#maybe I need someone to beta this and give me a push

[filet-o-feelings]

okay, I opened the doc... what next?

(counting this as my inspiration Saturday... it's more of plea for inspiration but it's what I'm working with. Anyway, thanks for the tags @hippolotamus and @lemonlyman-dotcom 🥰)

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 35: Threads

Summary: Pack bonds are made up of delicate threads, small fibers webbing together the dynamics and relationships that make up each individual pack. The omega stands in the middle, holding the pieces together, keeping the pack from crumbling by clinging to those threads like a strongman holds pillars up with chains.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 11,740 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, angst, descriptions of physical pain, brief description of drowning, medical stuff, panic, crying, panic attacks, nightmares, PTSD, very heavy emotions, alcohol and brief mention of alcoholism, language, fighting (not physically), Kyle being the best boy, aftermath of trauma, brief mentions of the events of the previous chapter, guilt and shame, angst, and finally some comfort after the hurt (but not quite what you'd expect)

A/N: So I may have been slightly wrong, the angst isn't over, but it's not quite as intense as it has been. There are little tidbits of comfort in this one, though it's not like "okay it's over, let me wrap you in this blanket and everything is fine and happy now". It's...you'll see. If you're waiting for the fine and happy comfort then...you might want to wait a few chapters still. The comfort will come on slowly, but it has officially started.

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Screaming. 

Someone is screaming. 

It hurts your ears, high-pitched and ringing. Your hands cover them, but even that can’t block out the sound. 

It’s ringing in your own head. 

Your body hurts, every joint and muscle aching and throbbing. They’ve been locked in place too long, frozen in one position, a safe position. Safety. That’s what you’re seeking, that’s what you’re trying to find. That’s why you’re here. 

This isn’t a safe space anymore. 

The walls are crumbling, the darkness is fading. There’s light seeping in, threatening to pull you out, make you face whatever is waiting on the other side. It’s not a comforting light, it’s bright and piercing and threatening. You don’t want to leave the darkness. You don’t want to face the light. You want to stay there, stay frozen, stay safe. 

Your throat burns, raw and painful with every breath. 

It’s you. 

You’re screaming. 

Hands are flying, mouth open in a scream. It’s a horrible sound, grating and feral sounding. Your body twists and turns as they try to hold you down. No restraints. You’ll just hurt yourself more. 

Blood is flying, splattering on the gurney, the floor, the walls. Yours or someone else’s? It’s hard to tell. 

Simon. 

“Simon!” 

He snaps out of his daze, his eyes darting up to look at Dr. Keller across the gurney. Her hand is around his wrist, your elbow knocking against his forearm as you try to fight whatever it is you think you’re seeing. Maybe you’re seeing nothing at all. 

“I know.” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft despite the chaos of the moment. Her gaze is firm but comforting. She knows. “I need you to hold her still. She’s going to hurt herself further if she can’t calm down.” 

She’s going to hurt someone else too. 

The monitors are beeping and screaming. They managed to get a blood pressure cuff around your arm before you snapped out of the daze he’d put you in and started fighting. You’re like a wild animal, cornered and fighting for your life again with a renewed vigor. Renewed for now. If you don’t calm down again, something will give out. 

There won’t be any coming back from that. 

“Don’t be afraid if you hurt her.” Dr. Keller says, squeezing his wrist. “Bones can be fixed.” 

He catches your wrists in his hand, pinning them down against your chest. He uses his weight to his advantage, pushing his arm into you as he leans down so you’re face to face. You let out another scream, fighting against him but he has you beat. He’s bigger, stronger, calmer. 

“Look at me.” He says, his alpha rumbling low in his chest. It has even the beta nurses stopping in their tracks to look at him. The only one unaffected is Dr. Keller as she uses this moment to her advantage. 

You stop fighting him, breathing in heavy gasps as you stare right up into his eyes. Wild and untamed, pupils dilated in your aggressive state. Dilated out of aggression or dilated out of fear? Perhaps both. Beads of sweat slide down your face, your body hot under his. It mixes with the blood on your skin, blood from your own injuries and from the Shadows you killed. Your cheek is bruised, discolored from broken blood vessels. Your left eye will swell shut soon. He needs to get you calm before then. 

It’s almost cute, the way you bare your teeth up at him. He might have thought it cute in a different setting, if your life wasn’t dangling over a ledge right now. A low growl rumbles in your chest, a warning that has his own hackles raising. He bares his teeth back, an answering growl, deeper and angrier, rumbles in his own chest. The nurses take a step back. Even Dr. Keller pauses at the sound. 

Yet, despite the threat in his growl, it doesn’t deter you one bit. Your knee drives into his side, making him grunt from the impact, but he doesn’t let up. You’re fighting him again, trying to wiggle your way out of his hold. If he pushes any harder, he might break a rib. You’re going to break something if you don’t stop. 

You’re too far gone to recognize anything but fear and danger. You’re only going to fight, only going to attack anything you perceive as a threat. You won’t even recognise him. He has to get you to calm down before you have a heart attack. He considers getting one of the nurses to bring Johnny in, but there’s no guarantee that will work. You’ll just perceive him as another threat, another danger. More people in the room will only make you more aggressive...make your omega more aggressive. 

He’s not dealing with you. He’s dealing with your omega in her raw form, the animal deep underneath forced out of her hiding place. Whoever said omegas are weak never had to face one in this state. 

He stares down at you as you fight and scream, battering his side with your knees but he can hardly feel the pain. His arm is still throbbing where you bit him, but he can hardly see the blood streaked on his skin. 

He has to save you. 

He can’t let all of this go to waste. 

They’ll never recover if they lose you now. 

He moves almost seamlessly, time seeming to slow as he lets you go. He unclips his vest and rips it over his head in one movement, uncaring as it hits the floor with a heavy thud. You lunge up at him but he’s ready, catching you before your lower body can leave the gurney. It’s a risk. A huge risk, but it’s all he can think of doing. It’s hardly the worst place to be if things go wrong, if this fails. If he does fail, at least he’ll know he tried. 

He pushes his mask up to his chin, pressing your face right into his neck. 

Your nose pushes against his scent gland as he cups the back of your head, holding you there. He projects his scent as strong as he can, hoping it can reach some deep part of your mind, some glimmer of you that’s left in there. 

If this goes wrong, you’ll rip out skin and veins with your teeth. He’ll bleed out on the floor before they can even get him on a gurney. 

He wraps his other arm around you, holding you as still as he can. Tears prick his eyes as he holds you, shoving away the beeping machines, the panic still thrumming inside of him. Scruffing you was only round one of this fight. He should have held it longer, should have been brave enough to do it a second time. 

He can still feel it, your neck in his hand, the way you gave in so easily. You had no choice, he gave you none. It was necessary, it was vital that he did it. You wouldn’t have made it this far if he hadn’t. 

He should do it again. It would be easy, just slip his hand down and squeeze and you’ll be gone, lost in your head again and under his control. Maybe then he’d get you to calm down, get you out of this state and free from the danger looming closer and closer. 

Heart attack, stroke, organ failure. 

Why couldn’t Price be the one to go after you? Why couldn’t it be Price standing here making this decision. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispers before slipping his hand down, wrapping it around the back of your neck again. 

Pain. 

You’re in pain. 

You try to fade away again, try to push yourself back into the darkness to avoid the pain, but you can’t. 

There’s no escaping it. 

Your body hurts, every joint and muscle throbbing. Fire licks at your very cells, burning hot through your veins, scorching your skin. Safety. You want safety again. You want to retreat back into yourself, back into the comfort only the darkness can offer you. 

Nowhere is safe anymore. 

Tears are rolling down your cheeks, the light pressing closer and closer. It’s somewhere above you, shining down in offending shades of white. You can see it behind your eyelids no matter how hard you try to squeeze them together. There’s no escaping this light. There’s no retreating back into safety. There’s no safety anymore. 

You’re underwater, slowly rising to the surface. There’s sounds around you, muffled and dampened by the water. You need to breathe, you need to inhale precious oxygen but you can’t get to the surface fast enough. Lungs burning, your fingers claw at the water but you can’t reach it, you can’t swim fast enough. 

Your hands curl into soft fabric as you cough, choking on imaginary water. There’s warmth surrounding you, pressed in on all sides. You’re leaning against something, something hard and solid and warm. The sounds are louder now, mixing into a convoluted cocktail of constant noise. You hate it. 

Pain ripples through your throat as you let out a groan, the sound catching and cracking on the rough edges of your vocal chords. Another choked sound leaves your lips, pain rippling through your very nerves. The skin on your face is burning, simmering ashes being fanned by every tear sliding down your cheeks. 

You’re crying. 

There’s a deep sound coming from under you. It’s vibrating against your body, your pulsing ears focusing on that sound. It’s familiar. You’ve heard it before, somewhere back in the recesses of your mind. 

Your mind. 

It’s there. You can feel it beginning to take shape, thoughts beginning to form out of the fractured darkness. You’re not in your mind anymore, your mind is in you. You’re a being inside of a body, a body wracked with pain. The urge to retreat back is strong, but you can’t. That part of you has been closed off, sealed away by the light. 

Fingers and toes twitch, tingling and throbbing with the cold despite the fire blazing its way through your veins. It is cold, your hand pulling at the softness you’re clinging to. The low vibration begins again, rumbling through you, igniting something in the back of your mind. 

You know it. It’s familiar. 

Something tingles in the back of your mind, starting to come to life. Despite the agony there’s something in there, something warm and comforting. There’s no name for it, no thought flashing through the swirling mass of neurons slowly taking shape. It’s soft and warm and whispering to you. 

Wake up. 

Wake up. 

Wake up! 

Your eyes open before you can stop them. You’re immediately blinded, eyes throbbing from the bright white light above you, a high pitched whine leaving your lips. It rattles through your throat, broken and squeaking through your shredded trachea. You clench your eyes shut again, wincing away from the intrusive light, the movement sending a bolt of pain through your body like an electric shock. You let out another garbled sound, your fist tugging on the fabric it’s clenching. 

“I know, I’m sorry sweetie.” A voice says, the light disappearing before another takes its place, softer and lighter and less painful. 

Your eyes crack open again, still throbbing despite the light being removed. Your entire body is throbbing, pulsing like an exposed nerve. You feel like an exposed nerve, weak and vulnerable. It triggers something deep in your brain, the light starting to dim. Something is rising, something is coming. You want to lay back, let it take over, let it take control. You want to sink into the darkness again. The darkness is safe, the darkness is secure. 

The beeping is getting louder. Beeping, that’s what that sound is. There’s something beeping. It’s getting faster and faster. You’re starting to go numb, the tingling in your fingers and toes fading away. It’s not so cold anymore, the ache in your limbs fading into oblivion. You’re fading into oblivion. 

“Oi! None of that.” 

You’re awake. You let out a disgruntled sound as the warmth and comfort leaves you, deserting you in favor of retreating into the recesses of your mind again. A shiver runs down your spine, your very skin tingling with pinpricks of pain as it goes. 

“Open your eyes again for me, love.” 

Your body moves before you can tell it not to, your eyes fluttering open again. You’re squinting despite the bright light being gone. Any light is too much, your mind seeking out the comforting darkness once more. 

Darkness makes you vulnerable. 

In the dark, you’re blind to things that may be hiding there. 

No. 

No more darkness. 

You want the light. 

Scents flood your brain as your eyes fully open, slamming into you like a wave. It’s too much, nearly choking you again as you try to register everything. The burning scent of sterilizer, the soft scent of clean linens, the harsh scent of chemicals. There’s a soft scent mixing in with the others, something easing the turmoil in your mind just slightly. Above all else, though, is the intense smell of leather and something soft and fresh. It overpowers almost all of them, standing out distinctly. It makes your nose throb, something tickling in the back of your mind. You’re afraid of the scent, yet...there’s something else. Something...familiar. 

“Back with us yet?” The sound rumbles under you again. 

“Nearly there.” Another voice says. “Heart rate is coming down again. Still feverish, though.” 

You’re suddenly aware of your body again, the pains, the aches, the burning, the cold. You’re trembling, your skin prickling from how cold it is. You try to press forward against the warmth in front of you, but the movement has pain slashing through your very cells. Another pathetic whine tears through your throat, every movement sending stabbing pain through your very being. 

“C...C-Cold.” You manage to croak out, the word forming clumsily on your tongue. It feels heavy, like you’re relearning how to speak. 

“I know.” The softer voice says, something dragging across your skin. “We’re trying our best.” 

Something moves against your back, dragging against your skin. Whatever it is, it’s warm, but it’s rough. You push into it, something telling you to get closer, to wrap yourself in it and let it suffocate you. Somehow it’s comforting to you, somehow it’s familiar. 

Slowly thoughts and sensations begin to return to you, your mind dragging itself from the depths it had sunk into. 

It was purposeful. 

You did it to save yourself. 

You’re shaking for a different reason now, suddenly aware of the parts of your body that ache the most. Your shoulder, your cheek, your throat, your wrists. There’s a deep chill that has settled in your bones, sinking past the fever and the pain, past the memories beginning to resurface, past the hopelessness and the anger and the fear. 

“Simon?” You croak out, the name burning its way through your dry throat. You desperately want something to drink, anything to ease the burning desert in your mouth. 

“It’s me, love.” The sound rumbles under you again. 

Leather. Eucalyptus. Warmth. Alpha. 

You groan, trying to shift closer but the tensing of your muscles has pain screaming through your body. A shuddering breath leaves your lips, your body tensing until it passes. 

“Try not to move too much.” The other voice says, a hand coming to rest on your arm. You’re still clutching Simon’s sweatshirt in your hand like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to this earthly plane. 

It might be. 

“Dr. Keller?” You croak out, recognizing that voice. 

“I’m here too sweetie.” She says somewhere behind you. “Take it easy, you’ve had a rough go of it.” 

She’s not wrong. 

The memories are coming back slowly, each one playing through your head like an episode of some fucked up television show. Except, it isn’t a television show. It’s your life. 

You hate it. 

“John?” You ask, trying to get your tongue to work, but you desperately need water. 

“Probably yelling at every person who crosses his path.” Simon says. “He was blazing a path to hell and back earlier trying to get ahold of anyone he could yell at involved in this.” He rubs your back. “He’ll be here as soon as he’s calmed down. Kyle and Johnny are working overtime trying to help restrain him.” 

You'll always be a second thought. 

“You?” You ask, unable to form the whole question you want to ask. Why are you here and not with your pack? 

He's quiet for a moment. “We got here before John and Kyle did.” His hand stills against your back, palm pressing below your shoulder blades. “You wouldn't let anyone close to you. The doc said it's normal, coming out of that state. I had to help keep you calm so you could get patched up. Then you wouldn't let me leave.” 

Your fingers ache from how hard they're gripping his sweatshirt. He stayed. He's the one here with you, not your alpha. 

You let out a groan, the pain starting to intensify. There’s a throbbing in your calf, and a deep ache starting to pulse in your joints. You’re almost glad for it, the turmoil in your mind starting to twist and fog your thoughts pushed aside in favor of the pain screaming at the forefront of your brain. 

“Time for more pain medicine.” Dr. Keller says somewhere behind you. “You’ll probably get sleepy, but rest is what you need right now.” 

You let out another groan, pressing your face back against Simon’s chest. Despite the pain in your body, there’s an even deeper ache in your chest. It’s not a physical one. Your alpha isn’t here. He’s left you again, abandoned you in favor of something else, something he deems more important. 

Tears are brimming in your eyes as they slip closed, the exhaustion and the drowsiness from the pain medicine taking over. 

It’s not quite so cold when you wake up next. It’s brighter in the room, the light not quite so artificial as it had been the first time. There’s no body against yours, no warmth seeping into your skin or scent in your nose. Your fingers twitch, almost like they want to seek it out again. 

You’re alone. 

You let out a quiet breath, your brows furrowing. Your shoulder aches, throbbing in time with the beep of the heart monitor. It hurts less to move as you shift your arm to itch the other. It’s horribly itchy, but your fingers meet gauze instead. 

Right. Phil had cut you there. Not very deep, but still deep enough to hurt. Just another injury to add to the list. 

You try to lift your arm but burning pain shoots through your shoulder. You wince, letting out a quiet moan of pain as you drop it back into the bed. You breathe as the pain shoots through you, swirling through your veins before it begins to settle. 

“You shouldn’t try to move too much.” A voice cuts through the silence. 

Your head whips to the side, your arm shooting out to grip the side rail as pain burns through your body like lava. It seeps slowly from your left shoulder down to your toes and into your very hair follicles. You let out another groan of pain, your eyes squeezing closed as you wait for it to pass. 

“Sorry.” The voice says softly. “I suppose that didn’t help any.” 

You open your eyes, still breathing heavily as the pain begins to fade. Your hand is still wrapped around the side rail as you stare at John. He’s seated next to the bed, his elbows on his knees as he stares at you. He looks tired, eyes puffy with dark circles around them. He’s in a simple green shirt and cargo pants, yet he’s not quite as put together as he normally is. His hair is sticking up in different directions, his beard scruffier than normal. There’s a faint pink line of what was probably once a cut on his cheek. 

It’s the first time you’ve seen him in weeks. 

You should be happy. 

You should be ecstatic. 

You should be relieved. 

Yet, all you can feel is pain and anger and betrayal. 

“There’s nothing I can say that will make this better.” He says, his voice rougher than usual, even after returning from a deployment. His eyes shine with emotion. You hate it. “There’s nothing I can say that will undo what happened.” He runs a hand over his mouth, letting out a breath through his nose. “This shouldn’t have happened in the first place. We should have known better, we should have questioned it.” He shakes his head. “We put too much trust in those above us, and we were all fooled.” 

Tears blur your eyes as you stare at him. He’s not just talking about Shepherd and the initiative. He’s talking about you too. 

“I regret it more than any decision I’ve ever made. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life,” He continues. “You put your trust in me, and I failed you. I let this happen to you because I got too caught up thinking about the greater good of the pack and I ignored what was right in front of me. You’re here because of me, because of the decisions I made. I had one job, and now you’re paying for my failure.” 

He pauses for a moment, tears shining in his own eyes. You should feel surprise, sympathy, something. All you can feel is hatred. He doesn’t deserve to cry over you. He doesn’t deserve this chance to try and explain himself to you, to try and give excuses for his actions. He made his choice. He made it very clear where his loyalties lie, where they’ve always been, where that line was laid before he even claimed you. It was never about you. Nothing was ever about you. It was always the initiative, and then when the initiative turned out to be false, it was about the ‘greater good’. You should have been the greater good. You should have been their focus. Instead they all betrayed you. 

They betrayed you in the end. 

“I made a bad call.” He continues on. “I shouldn’t have left you there. I shouldn’t have made that decision. It never would have played out how I thought it would in my head at that moment. Now you’re here, like this, because I made a stupid mistake.” 

He stares at you for a long moment, as if he’s waiting for you to say something, as if you  should have something to say in response. He’s waiting for an acceptance to his half-assed apology, as if his words can somehow undo the pain, the burning in your wrists, the throbbing in your shoulder, the agony every time you simply move a limb. As if his half-assed apology can somehow undo the weeks of depression and anguish and the worry and the fear. As if his half-assed apology can make up for the way they all cut you off, treating you like a traitor before abandoning you. As if his half-assed apology can undo the hours and hours of torment and pain the man you once thought of as a family friend unleashed on you all because of them. 

The hatred burns almost as hot as the lava in your veins, so hot you’re surprised the tear that slides down your cheek doesn’t start steaming. Your heart rate is picking up again, the monitor beeping with the sound of the anger simmering inside of you. The blood pressure cuff squeezes around your arm, a grunt of pain cracking in your throat. 

“Yeah,” You say, your voice hardly more than a whisper. You turn your head away from him, wincing as an electric shock of pain jolts through you from the motion. You drop your hand from the side rail before he can touch you, tucking your arm back under the rough blanket. “You did.” 

You have nothing more to say to him. 

John enters the room solemnly, the silence nearly palpable as they all wait in anticipation. They’re all looking at him, waiting patiently for their captain, their alpha, to speak. They always look to him, they always rely on him, they always trust him and now look where he’s led them. So rarely does he make the wrong decision, so rarely does he lead them astray. 

What happened this time? 

Why did he so easily turn them away from you? Why did he so easily turn his back on you? 

What words are there to say? He knew his words would do little to calm the raging storm inside of you, the hurt and the pain and the betrayal they put you through all because of him. 

The rejection still hurts, but it should. They all rejected you as soon as they left you behind. 

It’s only a fraction of the pain you must be feeling. 

“How is she?” Kyle asks, breaking the tense silence. 

“Upset.” He sighs, sinking down in a chair. 

“Fuckin’ sure she is.” Johnny snaps, anger radiating off of him in steaming waves. He’s been on edge, they all have, since the four of them were reunited. He had been there, stuck in the hall as you screamed and fought. He thought the worst when your screams cut off until he was finally updated by one of the nurses leaving the room. “Of course she doesnae want to see any of us! We just fucking left her, just like that, and it was your fuckin’ fault!” 

Simon grabs his beta before he can throw a fist at John, holding him back. Johnny lets out a string of curses none of them understand, fighting against his alpha. Simon holds him tightly, the image of your bloody form fighting against him still at the forefront of his mind. He grips Johnny tightly, muscles straining. Johnny is bigger. Johnny is stronger. 

He has half a mind to let him go. 

John doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch as Johnny yells and rages. He’d welcome a good beating right now. He could use some physical pain to distract from the ache in his chest. 

“Calm down,” Kyle says, getting in Johnny’s face. “I said calm down!” Kyle yells, Johnny stilling for a moment. It’s not often Kyle raises his voice at one of them. “We’re not doing any good being upset with each other. We all made mistakes over these last few weeks, especially these past few days. None of us are guilt free in this. We all have our omega’s blood on our hands. Fighting amongst ourselves will only fray the bonds more than they already have been.” 

Johnny deflates with a sigh, standing there in Simon’s arms for a moment. Kyle is right. They all can feel it, the way their bonds are fraying. Their pack is resting on a dangerous ledge, tipping back and forth with every strong emotion, every argument, every sour feeling. They’re all holding onto that bond, trying to pull it back to keep it from falling into the abyss. As angry as they are with each other, just one of them letting go will be the end of the pack. 

“There’s nothing we can do to change what happened.” John says, looking up at the other three. “Kyle’s right. I led us all in the wrong direction, but we can’t go back and change it. We can’t undo what happened to us, we can’t undo what we did, we can’t undo what we...” He lets out a breath. “What I let happen to our omega.” 

“She won’t trust us again.” Simon says, his hands still shaking as he releases Johnny. They haven’t stopped shaking since he scruffed you a second time. 

“She won’t.” John affirms, no matter how badly it hurts him. “She won’t forgive us either. The best we can do is to give her what she needs, what she wants. Right now that’s space. Dr. Keller will keep us updated as things develop.” He pushes himself up to stand, looking at each member of his team, of his pack. They all share the same guilty look on their faces, they all hold the same anger at themselves deep inside. “This may be the hardest mission we’ve ever had. No matter what we feel...none of that matters anymore. What matters is keeping our pack together. What matters is that we keep those bonds from fraying. We lose ourselves, we lose everything.” 

“Still sore?”

You nod, wincing as it sends a bolt of pain through your body. 

“I know.” Dr. Keller says, adjusting the ice pack on your shoulder. “Hurts like a bitch, but luckily it won’t cause any lasting damage.” 

You blink at Dr. Keller, staring at her for a beat. You don’t think you’ve ever heard her curse before. You’re not sure she was ever capable of it. 

“What? I use swear words. Sometimes.” She says, almost like she can read your thoughts. “Sometimes expletives fit the moment better than any flouncy, sophisticated words do. This feels like the proper situation to use some.” She lets out a sigh. “Your shoulder will be the worst of the pain, at least physically. The mental pain...well, that’s not something I can treat with pain medicine. Shouldn’t, would be the proper wording there.” 

Some people do use it to numb the pain. 

“We all made a lot of bad decisions these last few days. Your support system, those you were supposed to be able to trust, failed you.” She stares down at you, emotion shining in her eyes. It’s a mirror of John’s own stare when he’d looked at you, but this time there’s no anger burning inside of you. Dr. Keller didn’t betray you. Dr. Keller will mean her apology, because you know that’s what’s coming. “I know you’ve probably heard this a lot over the last few hours, but I am sorry too. I shouldn’t have left you alone like that. I shouldn’t have fallen for that phone call...I should have been there.” 

You stare up at her, tears pooling in your eyes. If she had stayed, things would have been worse. It was almost better she left you. You can’t lose her. You need her now more than you ever did. 

Tears streak a flaming path down your face, a choked sob tearing its way through your trachea up through your lips. It burns your throat, no amount of water you’ve had in the last few hours has been able to ease the ache that’s taken up permanent residence there. 

Graves choked you. It’s the bruising from his hand squeezing your windpipe making you ache. Your voice may never recover, may never go back to normal. Crying hurts, hurts more than just your mind, your chest. It hurts your whole body, yet you can’t stop. 

“I know, I know.” She says, petting your hair as you sob. “I’m not going anywhere this time. We’ll get through this, okay? It’ll be a long road, but you won’t be walking it alone. You’ve got me, and you’ve got your pack.” 

Your gaze hardens at the mention of your pack, the sob in your throat coming out almost as an angry grunt. The thought of them makes your chest ache, the pain of their betrayal burning hot in you. “I don’t want them.” You whisper. 

“I don’t blame you.” Dr. Keller says, leaning against the side rail of your bed. “They let you down. The betrayed your trust in a lot of ways. They made you feel abandoned, and then abandoned you when you needed them most, even if they thought they were doing the right thing at the time. You have every right to be angry at them, upset with them. They hurt you in the worst way they could.” She pulls the blanket higher over you, tucking you in. “You’ve gone through a lot these last few days. Some very traumatic events, on top of being injured and your body going through extreme stress. You’re exhausted in every way you can be. Rest first. Worry about everything else later. Doctor’s orders.” 

“I did it to myself.” You say before she can walk away. 

She turns back to look at you. “What?” 

“I made myself distress.” You say. “I made my omega come out.” 

“That was very brave of you.” She says, giving you a soft smile. “Sometimes we have to take drastic measures even knowing the risks. You did what you had to in the moment and I think it was the right choice. You didn’t know what was going to happen, what was happening. Things worked out and you’re still here. That’s all that matters.” 

You think about her words for a moment. You did make it out. The fact you’re here means someone found you, someone saved you. Someone scruffed you. 

“It was Simon, wasn’t it?” You ask, even though you already know the answer to that. 

You wouldn’t let him leave. 

“You’ll have to ask him for the whole story, but yes. He’s the one that rescued you.” She adjusts the blanket around you again. “Get some rest.” She moves the call button closer. “I’m on the other end of that button if you need me.” 

You stare up at the ceiling after she leaves, counting the tiles above you. It looks like every other ceiling you’ve ever seen in a doctor's office or clinic or hospital. It’s not all that different from the ceiling in the med center on base. 

Base. 

You don’t ever want to see that place again. You don’t want to step foot in the barracks, you don’t even want to think about the clinical sterility of the buildings and the cold comfortless spaces meant for nothing more than to serve their purpose. Just like you. You served your purpose. You proved their point, even if it was never the true point of the initiative. Packs will get stronger with an omega, but it will come at the detriment of that omega. 

The job always comes first. 

There was a time you thought perhaps it wouldn’t. Maybe they could put it all behind them  and put themselves first, put you first. Then they proved they can’t. They won’t even put you first when you’re at the threat of being tortured. You were hurt because they wouldn’t put you first. You are hurt because they wouldn’t put you first. 

You don’t care about them. You don’t care about their excuses. You don’t care about the bonds or the claims or the emotions. 

You’d be happy if they left you here. Just a few days ago you were panicking about them leaving you, about them deciding you weren’t enough and abandoning you. 

Now you wish they would. 

“Has she said anything?” 

“Not much.” He sighs. “She won’t see any of us. I can hardly blame her.” 

“You made a choice, John.” Kate says, hands wrapped around her cup of coffee. “Choices have consequences.” 

“You were right. Then again, you usually are.” He sips at his tea. Bitter without milk, but then again, he’d prefer a glass of whiskey right now over tea. “I don’t know how to fix this.” 

“I don’t think you can.” Kate takes a sip of her coffee. “She’s going to decide when she wants you to fix this, if she wants you to fix it.” 

John lets out a sigh. “We’re her pack, it’s our job-” 

“You’ve failed at your job.” Kate says, her gaze hardening as she stares at him. “You’re good at being a soldier, you’re good at being a leader, you’re good at saving the world, but that’s not your only job. You have a responsibility to take care of your omega, and you failed. You made your choice, and you turned your back on her. She’s not a soldier, John. She’s never been tortured, she’s never been left for dead, she’s never taken a life before and here she’s been through all of that in the span of two days. You made a choice, John. You made a choice knowing damn well what the consequences would be.” 

He sits in silence, staring at Kate. It’s not often she gets mad at him, the frustration evident on her face. It’s a mirror of the anger and disappointment on the faces of his packmates. They’re all feeling the weight of his decision, of his mistakes. They’re all feeling the weight of their rapidly fraying bonds. 

“You have a choice to make now, John.” She stares at him pointedly. “You pick up the pieces from this, you all take the time to recover and heal. Then what? Things aren’t as simple as we thought they were, John. None of us knew what was going to happen. We were all so focused on the potential benefits that we all overlooked just how much of a detriment this would be. Your omega hasn’t had a choice in anything in her entire life. Every decision has been made for her, whether or not she wanted it. She has had no say in any of this. She’s been nothing more than a variable in an experiment, a statistic, a number, a list of pros and cons. She’s been reduced down to nothing more than an object.” 

John winces at her words, the weight on his shoulders growing heavier and heavier. He’s treated you as nothing more than an object, even if not directly. Leaving you so easily, yelling at you when you made an innocent mistake, letting you be tortured because he couldn’t get his head out of his own arse. 

“We all know she’s more than that. Far more than that. But she will never have any say in anything, unless you let her. Outside of your pack, she has nothing. In your pack? She should have the loudest voice.” Kate leans her arms on the table, shifting closer to him. “Right now she has no voice because you’ve proven where your loyalties lie, and they’re not with her. You have one more decision to make, John. Do you keep standing where you are, put the job first and wear your omega down until she’s nothing but an empty shell? Or, do you take this chance while you have it and finally put her first?” 

Kate pushes herself up to stand, grabbing her cup of coffee. John’s not used to feeling small. He’s used to being in charge, being the captain, being in control. People look to him, they listen to him, he’s the one everyone turns to when things go to shit to lead them out. 

He’s not even capable of doing that anymore. 

“Your life as you knew it ended as soon as she was placed in your pack. It’s up to you to decide how it continues.” Kate leaves with those heavy parting words, the door clicking shut behind her. 

John stares down at his cup of tea, the cup half full, or perhaps half empty depending on how one looks at it. It feels more than half empty now, spilling slowly through some microscopic hole in the side. It’ll only be so long before that hole will widen, worn down by the weak paper the cup is made of, the liquid eating away at the cup until there’s nothing but a puddle of tea on the table, slowly rolling towards the edge to dip onto the floor. 

That microscopic hole started as soon as they left you alone for the first time, and none of them were aware enough to even notice it. 

That hole is a gaping wound now. The contents inside turned acidic as soon as he cut you off in his disappointment, as soon as he started digging into the belly of the initiative. That acid has been eating away slowly at the fragile bonds that were in place. Fragile. They really were. No matter how strong they all thought those bonds were growing to be, they were built with fear and anxiety and uncertainty. Uncertainty of the future and what it may hold, anxiety towards a new pack and an entirely new shift in lifestyle, and fear of one day losing a pack member. 

Bonds built upon such frailty can hold no weight should one piece fall. 

How strong can bonds really be when you live with that knowledge, that constant fear that someone could die at any time? Someone in the pack, someone you’ve bonded with, someone you’ve grown a relationship with, might leave and never return because of the risks of their job. How strong can those bonds be? Was that the point of the experiments all along, the 141 and the initiative? Testing the limits a pack could be pushed to, testing if bonds could be formed in such a high stress environment and if so, how strong they’d be? What limits would they have gone to, to test that theory? Would they have gone to the point of sacrificing one of them to test those theories, had the truth not come out when it did? One wrong decision, one wrong step in the field and everything can crumble. Would they have gone to that length to test just how a bonded pack would react, if they could still function after everything? 

The sacrifice was you. 

Kate is right. You’re not part of their world. You’re not a soldier, you haven’t been conditioned to live with that fear, you can’t be conditioned to live with that fear. You shouldn’t have to be conditioned to live with that fear. You had no choice in this. None of it. From the moment you presented, nothing in your life would be yours. From the moment you presented, you would never make a choice for yourself again. 

The sacrifice was you. 

And he played right into their hands. 

The cup is blurring as he stares at it, his eyes blinking rapidly. 

They say an omega is the balance that holds a pack together. It’s a delicate bond, a single thread coiled around the structure of the pack. Wear that thread down until it snaps and everything crumbles. How long have you been fraying? How long have you been silently screaming for help, desperately trying to hold the pieces of the pack together like a strongman holds two pillars up by chains? You never had chains, you’ve been holding everything together with sewing thread, fighting desperately to keep the pieces from crumbling at the risk of being torn in half. 

How long have you been silently screaming? 

It’s all his fault. He’s been wearing you down, he’s been fraying that bond fiber by fiber. He’s been standing there watching you fight to hold the pack together while screaming at him to help, screaming at him to take one of those threads and hold at least half of the weight for you. 

That’s what he’s supposed to do. 

The threads have snapped. You were torn in half by the weight and those threads are gone. They’re crumbling, the bonds coming undone, unraveling minute by minute, second by second. They’re losing each other because they lost you. 

He covers his face with his hands, not even bothering to try and silence his sobs. 

Something has pulled you from the sweet arms of sleep. 

It’s dark in the room, the only light coming from the one behind the bed. The curtains are drawn over the window, keeping you hidden from the darkness outside the window. It’s late, or at least you think it is. You can’t quite see the clock in the darkness with your one good eye. It’s fuzzy in the darkness, too far away for you to truly find where the hands lie. 

Shadows fill the corners of the room, oppressive and claustrophobic. The longer you stare, the bigger they seem to grow as if they might suck the light right out of the room and swallow you in darkness. The longer you stare, the more it seems like there’s something there, something hidden in the darkness. 

Something is staring at you from the shadows. There’s eyes on you, your skin prickling from the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. The more you stare into the darkness, the more the shadows begin to take shape, forming monstrous beasts just being held at bay by the light. 

“Hi, darlin’.” 

No. No, no, no, no. 

“Miss me? It’s been a long time.” 

You shake your head, your heart monitor starting to beep rapidly as your heart pounds in your chest. “N-No.” 

Phil sits forward in the chair in the corner, his face coming into the light. It is him, blonde hair, blue eyes, that disarming grin on his face. He can’t be here...unless he escaped before your pack could catch him. Did they manage to catch him? You don’t know. You hadn’t even thought to ask about Phil or his whereabouts. No one informed you either. 

“No? You didn’t miss me?” He tilts his head, his eyes shining with faux hurt and disappointment. “That’s not very nice of you to say. I thought your father taught you your manners. Have you forgotten them in the time you’ve been away.” He tsks, shaking his head. “Those boys have been letting you get lazy.” 

Your breathing is picking up, panic starting to fill you as you stare at him. It’s impossible. He shouldn’t be here. He can’t be here. He couldn’t have just walked onto base and walked into the medical center, could he? Corporal McKinney fooled everyone for months and drove right off base with you in his car and no one said anything. How much would the guards at the front entrance of the base take as a bribe to let him in? 

Why isn’t your pack outside your door? Why would they let him in? 

They had to have put out a warning. Someone should have put Phil’s face everywhere, sent out a message, something. 

He lets out a sigh, pushing himself to stand. “I guess I’ll have to teach you some manners myself.” 

The glint of metal catches your eye, the icepick catching the light as he steps closer. 

“No, no,” You shake your head, your fingers scrambling for the call button.

Not again. Please, not again. 

Your fingers close around the call button, your thumb pushing it over and over and over again. Someone has to hear it. 

He lifts the ice pick, reaching out for you...

You’re being shaken. A scream tears from your lips as you struggle, trying to get away from whoever is holding you. Your body is alight with pain but you wait for more, for the ice pick to drive into your scent gland again, open the wound and light your body on fire once more. You expect it to come down again and again, filling your body with holes so you bleed out on the floor. 

Where is your pack?

“Easy, easy. You’re alright.” 

You know that voice. 

You’re sobbing, your brain slowly beginning to come back into consciousness. You had been asleep. You were dreaming. The light is on in the room, the harsh fluorescent a welcome presence for once. The shadows are gone, dissipated by the bright light overhead. Phil is gone, wiped away with the rest of the shadows. 

He’s nowhere to be seen because he wasn’t there in the first place. 

It was just a dream. It was just a nightmare. 

There’s a hand on yours, gently easing your fingers from the call button. You’re still trying to press it, your thumb moving almost automatically. You started pressing it in your sleep. 

“You’re okay. Breathe for me.” 

It’s Dr. Keller’s voice. It’s her arms wrapped around you, trying to stop you from moving as much. Your body is screaming in pain, but the panic flooding your body makes you almost numb to it. The pain in your chest is screaming with every rapid inhale, tightening and tightening the more until your fingers and toes start to go numb. 

“Deep breaths.” Dr. Keller says, her own breaths slow as she holds you. “In and out.” 

The inhale catches, the air shuddering into your lungs before you hold it, trying to force your body to calm down, just like the two of you practiced so many times. The heart monitor is beeping rapidly, another thing that must have translated in your state between wakefulness and sleep when Phil had shown up. Your heart is beating rapidly, thudding in your chest almost violently. It’s been through a lot these last few days. You wouldn’t be surprised if it just gave out suddenly. 

“Phil.” You gasp out, still trying to slow your breathing. “Phil was here.” 

“It was just a nightmare.” Dr. Keller says calmly, keeping her arms wrapped around you. “No one has come in or out of this room besides me. The guard outside won’t let anyone else in.” 

Guard. There’s someone outside the door. Your pack? No. She would have said so.

Where is your pack?

Phil was never here. It was just a nightmare. 

The last two thoughts repeat over and over in your head like a mantra as you start to cry, sobs wracking your body. You hate it, the fear, the terror, the anguish you felt as he lifted that ice pick, ready to stab you with it. 

“I hate it.” You croak out, voicing your thoughts for the first time in a few hours. 

“I know.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s normal to have nightmares after a traumatic event.” She adjusts her hold on you, tucking you against her chest. “It’s your brain trying to process what happened, trying to work its way through the trauma of the last few days. It’s cruel, but it’s a necessary part of healing.” 

Healing. 

Are you healing? Can you heal after everything? The pain is intense, not just outside but inside as well. The hurt, the anger, the fear, the anxiety, the panic, the depression, the rage, the betrayal. It’s too much. It’s so much all at once. You hate it. You hate that this happened in the first place. You hate that you have to go through this, have to heal, have to live through more nightmares. 

You hate your pack. That’s why they’re not here. 

For all you know they’ve left you. For all you know they’re on a plane back to the UK. 

Why would they want a broken, angry omega?

“I just want to be okay.” You sob, face pressed against her shoulder. 

“I know.” She says, cradling the back of your head, keeping you tight in her arms. “I'm so sorry this happened to you. I know words can't change that it happened, words can't make it all better, but we'll get you to where you're as okay as you can be again. I promise you I’ll do everything I can to get you there.” She leans her chin on the top of your head, squeezing you against her chest. “We'll get there, no matter how long it takes.” 

How long will it take? How long will your pain and suffering drag on for? Your body will heal eventually, but will your mind? Are you going to be this way for the rest of your life? Will you ever know peace again? But...have you ever really known peace? Your home growing up certainly wasn’t peaceful. Your presentation wasn’t peaceful, and neither was life at the institute. Being chosen by the FBI for this initiative that never existed in the first place certainly wasn’t peaceful. Despite how happy you became with your pack, even that life wasn’t peaceful. What little peace you thought you had was upended in the blink of an eye. 

How easily everything crumbled. 

Will it be possible to put it all back together again? 

Do you want to put it back together again? 

Alcohol is easy to find in a place like this. Soldiers gravitate towards whatever crutch they can find to erase the nightmares they live in. It numbs the pain and the brain and keeps one sane, or at least that’s what his father used to say. 

Of course his father would drink himself into a stupor every Friday night, and he’d wake Saturday morning still in his chair with a full breakfast waiting for him. 

Much like his father, John has lost track of how many times he’s filled his glass. 

It’s been a long time since he’s gotten this drunk. He shook that habit after a shameful morning over ten years ago. He’d just gotten back from a bad deployment, one that gets labeled as a “mission gone wrong.” It failed under his command. He lost a lot of lives, not just his fellow soldiers. He’d drunk himself past a stupor and woke up passed out in a bush covered in vomit outside the gate with a rather angry CO over him. 

He shook the habit after that, easing himself to just a glass every so often on those days he needs to take the edge off, on those days he needs to numb the aches. 

Then Kyle came along. Kyle, his sweet beta with his ethical moral compass. His sweet beta who deserved a better life than what he was pulled into. Dutiful, loyal, principled. A good soldier, but a better man than John could ever be. He could fall into Kyle, bury himself under those soft touches, the soothing whispers, the comfort Kyle could offer him. The screaming in his head became less and less as he allowed Kyle to do what he was meant to do at his core. 

Comfort. 

Then you came along. 

He found himself turning to the liquid medicine less and less because he could bury himself in you. He had an omega, he had someone he could lean on, someone who understood without having to be told. The bond between alpha and omega is something so sacred and special, something to be cherished. 

And he threw it all away. 

He downs another glass, staring at the almost empty bottle. It had been sealed when he got it, brand new and fresh. He can feel it, the fogginess of alcohol clouding his brain. The world is swirling, melting together. He can’t feel much of anything anymore, yet that pain lingers deep in his chest. 

The bond. 

It’s like an open wound, gaping and pulsing. Eventually it’ll slow, eventually it’ll give out. That bond will be cut and everything will crumble. 

It’s all his fault. 

He ended things, he ended the pack, he ended the bond, he ended you. 

Would Graves have killed you? Would Shepherd have given those orders if they pushed onward, if they caught up to him? Graves would have done it slowly, taken his time, reveled in it. They would have gotten a video of it, hours long as you were tortured to death, zoomed in on your face as the life left your eyes. 

The thought makes his stomach churn. He wants to vomit at the mental picture of you laying there, covered in blood, those lifeless eyes staring at him. Eyes that once shone with life and happiness. Despite everything you had been happy. Despite everything that spark inside you was never extinguished. A fiery little thing that would give what they gave right back to them. 

Now you’re not even smoldering. 

You’ve been reduced to ashes, and it’s all his fault. It’s all his doing. 

He skips the glass this time, drinking straight from the bottle.

“Have you seen John recently?” Kyle asks, standing in the doorway to their temporary living quarters. It’s a single room with two bunk beds. Far too tight of a space for their quickly souring dynamics. 

“No, not recently.” Johnny says, lifting his head up from his pillow. He’s been crying again. “You, LT?”

LT. They argued earlier...more like yelled in each others’ faces until they had to be separated at the risk of things getting physical. Kyle’s not even sure what they had been arguing about in the first place. Probably something miniscule and unimportant. Everything seems to be setting them off like grenades. Pull the pin and watch them explode. They’re all on edge, all of them feeling the distance growing wider and wider despite their best efforts to stop it. 

“No.” Simon says simply, staring up at the bottom of the bunk over him. He’s flat on his back, hands folded on his stomach. He looks like a corpse, might have been mistaken for one if it hadn’t been for the slow rise and fall of his chest. He’s still in his mask. He hasn’t taken it off since he arrived in the field. 

It’s late, but none of them can sleep. None of them have been able to get much sleep since they arrived nearly two days ago. Weeks without good, decent sleep wears on the brain too. 

“If he comes back here, text me.” Kyle says before closing the door, resuming his search for their missing captain. 

John has been beating himself up for nearly two days now. Kyle’s never seen his captain quite so distraught and lost. He’s blaming himself, which in all fairness, he should be doing. It is his fault. Kyle will be the first to point blame in this situation, but none of them are truly blameless. None of them questioned it, none of them even argued with him on that decision. They followed blindly as they were supposed to for the first time in a long time. They didn’t question their captain, their alpha, their leader. 

He hates himself for it. 

Why didn’t he question it? Why didn’t he argue? Why didn’t he voice his opinion, fight back against that decision? He trusted his alpha when he shouldn’t have, and you paid for it. 

He’s glad he didn’t have to see you. He’s glad he didn’t have to face down the state Johnny and Simon found you in. He’s glad he didn’t have to see what you looked like even after the blood had been cleaned off and the true horror was revealed. 

He hasn’t gone to see you at all. 

He’s not sure he could handle it. You won’t care either way from the sound of it. You’ve been reduced to a shell, silent and empty. You’ve barely said a word since this morning, instead just lying there and staring at the ceiling according to the doctor when she’d updated them this afternoon.

Your body will heal slowly, but your mind will remain a battleground. 

He leaves the barracks, looking up at the dark sky. It’s clear tonight. He’d probably see the stars if there wasn’t constant light pollution around the base. What do the stars look like here? He’s stared up at the stars constantly in the last few weeks in places there was little light pollution. His only comfort about being away from you so long was the knowledge that you were under the same sky. Be it day or night, the stars were overhead. You wouldn’t be able to see them either way, but they were shining for you too. 

Now you’re both under the same stars, but you’re both still so far away.

He lets out a sigh, lowering his gaze. He has a job to do, a captain to find. 

“Where are you John?” He breathes, looking in all directions, trying to decide which way to go next. He had stopped in at the med center already, but he wasn’t there. No one had seen him, even the doctor. He’s searched everywhere he could think to search, but his captain is nowhere to be found. 

John will kill him if he requests a base-wide search. 

He walks around the side of the barracks, hoping maybe he’ll run into John coming back this way. Usually he wouldn’t bother searching for him, but with his mind how it has been, Kyle can’t help but be worried. Even with the bonds fraying between them, he still has that instinctual need to make sure his alpha is okay. Instincts can’t be ignored. No matter how much bonds between packs fray, instincts will always remain the same. 

That’s why he still feels that urge to go and see you. 

John will kill him if he requests a base-wide search. 

He knows how self-destructive John can be despite how composed he makes himself appear. He’s only seen his alpha in that state once, and he has a feeling he’s about to a second time. 

He leans against the wall with a sigh when he reaches the other side of the barracks. Nothing. No sign of him. No texts from Johnny or Simon either. He’d asked Dr. Keller to let him know if he shows up in the med center too, but there’s been nothing. No word. No signs. 

Maybe he should just give up looking. John will find his way back to the barracks eventually. Or he won’t. 

That could be tomorrow’s problem. A distraction, a mission, something to give them purpose and force them to unite again. 

Find their missing captain. Find their missing alpha.

He turns back around to follow the sidewalk back to the front of the barracks when he hears shuffling footsteps dragging on the concrete. He turns, squinting into the darkness between lamps as a figure stumbles through the shadows, muttering under its breath. He knows that voice, he knows that figure. 

John. 

John stumbles forward, nearly falling but Kyle reaches out, catching him. His mind is racing, silently checking for any blood, any sign of injury, but there’s nothing. 

Maybe everything is finally getting to him. Maybe his body has finally been pushed to the limit and it’s giving out. He’s having a medical emergency. 

“Easy, sir.” He says, trying to calm his panic as he fights to keep John upright despite John’s body wanting to fall the rest of the way onto the ground. Kyle takes a breath in, catching the sour scent of alcohol wafting off his captain. 

Not a medical emergency, then. 

He sought out some liquid comfort instead. 

The thought makes Kyle’s chest twinge still. 

“’S all over.” John slurs, his weight getting heavier and heavier. “Everything is over.” He turns his head, blinking slowly. “Kyle?” 

“It’s me, sir. I’ve got you.” He slings John’s arm over his shoulders, making his weight easier to hold. 

“Kyle.” He slurs again, the two syllables blurring together. “Too good to me, Kyle.” John pulls his arm free, stumbling forward. 

Kyle just manages to lessen his fall onto the concrete, making sure John doesn’t smack the back of his head at least. He’ll have some scrapes and bruises tomorrow, though. Right now he probably can’t even feel it. If he was responsible, he’d take John to the med center, let him sleep off the alcohol on the safety of a gurney, but that would probably just cause more problems for everyone. 

John would be pissed when he woke up. 

He lets out a sigh as he stands there, staring down at his captain. John’s on his back, eyes up and focused on the sky, hiccuping every so often. He’s never seen his captain quite this drunk before, though he has heard stories of when John was younger. 

“I’ve killed her.” John mumbles. “I’ve killed all of us.” 

Kyle drops to a knee beside John. “You haven’t killed anyone.” 

“She’s fading away. Soon she’ll be gone.” He murmurs. “We’ll go too.” John pushes himself up to sit. “It’s all over. Everything is over.” 

Kyle grips John’s arms before he can fall back again, holding him in place. “Nothing is over yet, sir. We can still do something. It’ll just take time.” 

John turns to look at him, his eyes hazy and far away. “Kyle.” John says his name softly, reaching out to brush his fingers across Kyle’s cheek. “Pretty boy.” He slumps against Kyle’s chest, his weight nearly making both of them topple over. “Too good to me, Kyle.” 

“I care about you a lot, sir.” Kyle says, rubbing his back. “More than I think you realize.” He murmurs the last bit more to himself than anything. Not that John will likely remember any of this in the morning. “We should get you in bed. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.” 

They do. They have to decide what to do next. 

“Come on.” He says, hauling John to his feet carefully. John lets him, letting Kyle wrap his arm around his shoulders. 

It’s slow going, Kyle half dragging John back to the barracks. He’s quiet at least, only the occasional scuffle of his footsteps as he stumbles breaking the quiet night. He gets John back to their room fairly easily, easing him into the other bottom bunk across from Simon. The room is still and silent aside from the occasional sniffle from one of the top bunks. 

He grabs the blanket from his own bunk, draping it across John instead. Maybe in his drunk state, the scent will bring him some comfort, help ease that ache inside of him.

He’s hoping John’s scent will do the same for him. 

“It’ll be alright, sir.” He says, making sure his captain is comfortable. He stands up, staring down at his Captain. “Everything will be fine.” 

He’s not sure who he’s trying to convince. 

John stares down into his tea as they sit around a table. His head is throbbing, pulsing heavily behind his eyes. It’s his own damn fault, going out and getting drunk like that. He hasn’t done it in years, yet he couldn’t stand the pain gnawing away at his chest. Alcohol hadn’t fixed it. It’s still there, still pulsing away. The alcohol had only numbed it at least for a few hours, and if anything, it made it worse. 

“Kate left this morning back to DC.” He says, glancing up at the other three members of his team. “They're still working on cleanup and helping Alex and Farah track Shepherd. I spoke with Dr. Keller this morning. We’ll be able to fly out soon.” 

The words hang heavy in the air. He hadn’t mentioned you at all, but he’s not sure he could without breaking down. You are improving slowly, Christine had said, giving him a sympathetic look as he squinted in the harsh fluorescents. She knew. She could tell just by looking at him. She’s that good at her job. 

He’s glad they have her. He’s glad you have her.  

“Where are we going tae go?” Johnny asks. 

“We can’t go back to base.” Simon says. 

“You’re right. Going back to base is too risky.” John says. “Shepherd could have eyes there already. And with her mind where it is...” Taking you back would be too much too soon, even without the risk. One of their own had already betrayed them once. They can’t trust anyone anymore. “We need somewhere secluded and quiet. Somewhere no one will know we’re going where we can lay low for a while.” Both out of necessity for their safety, but also for your sake. 

It falls silent between them. Shepherd knows all of their possible safehouses, all of the places they mind go to stay hidden. Those only they know off the record are hard to get to, requiring miles of hiking. You wouldn't be up for that even without the physical injuries, and they doubt you'd let one of them carry you. If they had to get out quickly...

“My parents have a place,” Kyle says, glancing up at them from his own cup of tea. “Out in Cornwall. A cottage near the cliffs. It’s quiet, secluded. No one knows about it but us. Tourist season is over too. There won't be many out there poking around this time of year.” Anyone wandering around out there that close would be suspicious.

“It’s a good option.” Johnny shrugs. 

“It’s our only option.” Simon says. 

“It’s exactly what we need.” Kyle says. “Trying to rent this time of year will only draw attention, and we can't trust we won't be ratted out. Shepherd likely still has allies. We were betrayed by one of our own before.” Kyle says. 

“You're sure no one else knows about it?” John asks, looking at his beta. 

“Just my parents and my siblings. They wouldn’t ask any questions if I told them it was being used.” Kyle shrugs. “It might be our best option.”

John looks around at them. It is their best option for now. He knows Kyle's family is just like the rest of theirs. They know they can't know and they won't ask questions. 

“We had a conversation once, months ago.” John says. “She told me she wanted to live next to the sea someday. She wants to be close enough that she can smell it and see it.” 

He pauses thinking back months ago after Simon left, after you were so affected by his absence. That conversation when you asked if he’d ever leave for you, when he told you if your life was ever in danger because of them he’d leave in a heartbeat. He’s made a liar out of himself. He broke his promise, so many promises, made not just to you. Not just to the pack. 

He glances at the other three, fighting back the lump in his throat, the endless threat of tears that has been rising like the tide and threatening to drown him at any moment. He’s made his decision, he’s made up his mind. 

You have to come first. 

His priorities have changed. There’s no initiative to follow, no orders to be given out. Kate was right. This is their moment to change things, this is his moment to change things. His pack will follow. Despite everything, they’ll trust him to make the right decision. They won’t hesitate to challenge him anymore, but there’s still that deeply ingrained trust in their alpha and captain. 

The alpha comes first. 

No, the omega comes first. 

He takes a sip of his tea, bitter without any milk, but it’ll do. “She wanted to be close to the sea.” He looks back up at the other three having made his decision. “Taking her there might just be what she needs.” 

NEXT ->

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[bysaber]

weeping dragon

pairing: neuvillette x fem!reader

summary: neuvillette thinks he isn’t deserving of your love.

content: cliche !!!, reader trapped in his house bc of rain, lil antsy but happy ending

wc: 800

a/n: mm hii!! first fic here! I hope you enjoy it I kind of wrote it in twenty minutes and I’m just publishing it without beta reading bc (we die like men) I’m just too in love with neuv and I want to share it with the world lolol

Neuvillette couldn’t bring himself to even think about making a move.

He kept many secrets, and every time he faced your bright smile he would remember it was not his place to disturb your peace. After all, how could a young woman like you endure the dangerous claws of a dragon?

You had stopped by his house to discuss the latest trial and his emotions got the best of him, causing a rain to start pouring.

A storm was approaching; lighting was seen through the window and low thunders could be heard. Neuvillette plagued himself under his breath, hoping there would be a day where he could better control his feelings.

“Here,” he said as he handed you the cup of tea. You watched the lighting curiously, “I do not think the storm will pass for a few hours. You should stay. For the night, I mean.”

You took the cup of tea and averted your eyes from the window to Neuvillette’s face. You studied him with caution, as if it was the first time you ever saw the man — even though you worked together for many months.

“Are you okay?” you asked, ignoring completely his offer.

The words got stuck in his throat and, for a few seconds, he really thought he wouldn’t answer. The man sipped on his tea, his mind racing while trying to figure out why you would ask that all of the sudden. “May I ask why are you asking me such a question?”

It was a small gesture, but he saw it all the same; the way you flexed your hand. There was something you wanted to grab?

Something you wanted to hold?

“They say… It rains when the Hydro Dragon weeps. Yeah, that's what they say,” you murmured and once again looked out the window. To the storm. “The Hydro Dragon. That would be you, right?”

Neuvillette almost choked on his tea, every part of his body malfunctioning and leaving him with only one thing for sure: in his entire existence, this was the first time he was left completely and utterly speechless.

Your warm and comforting eyes turned to him, and you grabbed his cup of tea to put it alongside yours on the coffee table. “Neuvillette,” you spoke his name as if it was a piece of poetry you were yet to learn — eager to do so, “Talk to me.”

And then— your hands, so small and fragile if compared to his, touched him. Your fingers traced his, and you embraced his hand between yours. He could feel the warmth of your skin contrasting against his cold one, pulling him closer, closer, closer.

“When did you figure it out?” was the first thing he said, scared it may be recent. If so, there still is time for you to run, for you to escape. To turn your back and never see him again. It’s probably the best for you, he knows, but this little selfish part in him can’t stand the thought of seeing you gone.

“A month ago or so, it doesn't matter,” you’re quick to cut the subject. “I didn't mention it because I knew you didn't want me to. I’m just worried, that's all.”

Worried.

She is worried.

The realization clicks in Neuvillette’s mind, for the first time in so long acknowledging that maybe, just maybe, he was too, deserving of someone’s concern and care.

“You are saying it does not matter,” he repeats as if to confirm what he just heard.

I pushed you because I cared about you. I pushed you because you made me feel good and comfortable. I pushed you because I thought my true self would frighten you.

Yet, you’re here. And you’re telling me it doesn’t matter.

“It doesn’t. Never did,” you frown. “I just wanna know, no— I need to know why it is raining, Neuvillette. Why would you weep? I’m here with you, talk to me.”

Without giving it a second thought, Neuvillette’s right hand finds your lower back and in a split second you're pressed against his chest, the tightest hug you have ever been given. He’s much taller than you, and you can feel perfectly as he inhales your scent and hugs you tightly.

“Neuv—”

“I thought I had to restrain myself from you. I thought I was no good,” he finally speaks his mind, distancing himself enough for you to see his face; the weeping Dragon. Oh, the melancholy in his eyes.

The eyes of someone who almost lost something precious.

“Neuvillette,” you whispered. “There’s nothing better for me than you.”

And it was true; so you pulled on his hair just enough to have him connecting your lips, a sigh of relief escaping him as if there was nothing in this world he had anticipated more.

[sorchathered]

It would’ve been you

Pairing- Bob Floyd x female reader

Summary- you’d finally admitted your feelings to Bob, the only problem? He doesn’t remember any of it, and now he’s got a new girlfriend.

Warnings- angst, a little bit of smut, Bob being a dummy, reader also being a dummy.

A/N- Hey babies! Let’s celebrate me finally getting back to the states with a new fic I wrote (one of three) on my 14 hour flight last night, not beta read, fuck it we ball. 😂😂

———————————————————————

Bob’s new girlfriend was awful.

No really she was. Natasha had been sending you emails for weeks about how bad things had become, and until you’d stepped back on shore you had scarcely believed it yourself.

It had been twelve weeks since you left for your special detachment. Twelve weeks since you drunkenly fell into bed with your best friend Robert Floyd.

You’d had a party at you and your roommate Natasha’s, sort of a “good luck hope you don’t die” drunk fest as your front seater Jake Seresin liked to call it. Too many drinks were had and inhibitions were pretty much non existent by the end of the night, Bob offering to help you clean up which resulted in drunken confessions of love and hands roaming bodies until the early morning hours.

It has been perfect, messy, but perfect. You’d scarcely hoped he felt the same and had been holding a candle for him for an embarrassingly long time. When you woke that morning you were in a lavender haze of ooey gooey feels, sneaking out of your room to shower and pack your things as you thought about what might be in the future for the two of you when you made it back from the mission.

But when Bob woke up with the hangover of the century and didn’t remember a single bit of the night before? Everything went to shit. You were too embarrassed to tell him the truth, if he didn’t remember then maybe it didn’t mean what you thought it had meant, and maybe he hadn’t been ready to cross that line with you after all. So you bottled it all up, pushing forward with the mission and kept contact to a minimum. He never said it but he knew something was off, you never missed an email when he wrote and lately you’d all but ignored him entirely.

About 6 weeks into your deployment, Nat hit you with a bomb you never expected- Bob had started seeing someone. You let it all out in your bunk, cried until your tears could have floated the carrier you were on and then some. You should have said something, you knew that now, and it was too little too late.

When you made it back Nat was bursting at the seams to give you all the gossip, you weren’t ready to hear it but she was quite literally bouncing on her toes to give you the tea so you settled in after a shower and let her blab.

“She’s awful y/n!!! Some wannabe instagram influencer who is on her phone constantly and oh my god she is rude!! She puts on this sweet little angel vibe for Bob but as soon as he leaves the room she’s like Cruella de Vil with blonde hair. I’m totally convinced she only wants to be with him for the military girlfriend vibes, she posts all these pictures of them together and tags them with little stupid hashtags about how she’s a military girlfriend and blah blah blah.” She says with a scowl as she pretends to fake wretch and you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Is he happy with her?” You ask quietly, too afraid to look in her eyes, she’s too perceptive for her own good though; she’s known something changed between the two of you but hadn’t been able to place it.

“Honestly? He looks miserable, he hasn’t seemed like himself since you blew out of the house the morning of your deployment without so much as a goodbye. I don’t know what happened and I won’t ask, but I think you two need to talk. He misses you.” She took your hand in hers and gave you a kind smile, she was a bulldog in her field but she was the kindest soul you’d ever met. “I miss him too Natty, I really do.”

Bob had really liked Lauren in the beginning, she seemed like such a sweet girl, her socials full of pictures of her rescuing dogs and going on adventures, he could really see a future for them. But then she started only wanting to hang out when he was at the bar with his navy friends, always on her phone posting pictures of him in uniform, and bragging on her tiktok about being a Navy pilot’s girlfriend when that wasn’t even really what he did and she never seemed to listen enough to actually care about getting to know him for who he was. It had become exhausting, and he couldn’t talk to the person he wanted to the most because it felt like you’d completely ghosted him over the past few weeks. Bob was at a loss, he didn’t know what had changed between the two of you but as soon as Natasha announced to the group chat everyone was going to dinner to celebrate you and Hangman making it home he only had one thing on his mind- corner you and find out what the hell he’d done to piss you off.

When he got to the Hard Deck that night everyone was already in full party mode, drinks and pizzas littered the back wall of the bar as everyone danced along to Rooster’s rendition of “Benny and the Jets” on the piano, you perched right by his side singing the harmony and bursting into giggles as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. You were breathtaking, you always had been to Bob but he’d never had the courage to tell you how he felt, always burying it when the feelings bubbled up in his chest. He was glad he hadn’t brought Lauren with him, he couldn’t clear the air between the two of you with her around, and honestly he was still wondering if he even wanted to continue a relationship with her in the first place. He would unpack all of that later, the song had ended and you’d noticed he was staring at you, your skin flushing bright red at his gaze.

You knew he’d be here, but even after weeks away you weren’t sure you were ready to face him. Did he remember what happened? Did it change anything? It certainly had to you, how could it not? You’d admitted your deepest feelings for him and then had the best sex of your life, only for him to completely forget it ever happened. It was devastating, but there wasn’t any way to avoid him so better to just rip the bandaid off now and get it over with. You sat your empty beer down on a nearby table and made your way to where he was perched at the bar, ginger ale and peanuts occupying his hands as he looked you over with a nervous smile.

“Hey.” Oh god really? Hey? That’s all you could come up with? You cringed internally at the waver in your tone, you can be held responsible for millions of dollars of military tech but Bob Floyd is somehow the Achilles heel in your confidence? Jesus.

“Hi” he said softly and smiled back at you, “we’ve missed you around here, you didn’t answer any of my letters and I was starting to get worried about ya.” He fiddled with the top of the plastic cup holding the peanuts and tried to look anywhere but in your eyes, this was already the most awkward conversation he’d ever had and that was saying something for him.

“Look, Bob I don’t want to prolong this but I get it ok? We all do stupid things when we’re drunk and I won’t hold it against you. I heard you have a new girlfriend and I’ll respect that, I just…I need some time. I meant every word of what I said to you that night and if you just said it back to be kind-“

“Whoa hold on a minute, what are you talking about honey?” He thrust a hand out to catch yours and watched horror cross your face, what the hell had he done?!

“Oh-oh my god. You still don’t remember. Fuck, I- I’m sorry Bob I can’t do this right now.” You all but ran from him towards the back door and out into the night, you were fairly certain you were going to throw up or pass out. Maybe both.

Bob’s head was swimming, he stood up to follow you and had a moment flash behind his eyes. You beneath him, arms around his neck as the two of you ground into each other in your bed. He’d thought that had been a dream…it had been…right? The more he tried to think of it the more the memories came back, watching you come undone beneath him as you cried out your love for him, his hands tangled in your hair as he made the same confession. Natasha came up behind his rigid form to press a hand to his shoulder and he jerked back with a gasp, deep blue eyes wild and filled with panic. “Hey, whoah! Easy Bob, what’s going on?” She put both hands on his biceps as if to steady him but it couldn’t stop the room from spinning.

I-I’ve gotta get outta here Phoenix, did you see where y/n went? I royally screwed things up I have to see if I can fix it before it’s too late.”

She pointed towards the back door and he was bolting for it before she could say anything else, he couldn’t believe how much of a fool he’d been.

You were crouched in the sand a hundred feet or so from the bar, gasping in deep breaths as tears clouded your vision, head in your hands and body shaking. You should have just said something the morning after it happened, why didn’t you just tell him then? He still didn’t remember and if he didn’t remember then it must’ve not meant anything to him, now he was with someone else and your chance had all but evaporated. Had you completely lost him now? You didn’t know if you could bear not having him in your life, even if he wasn’t in love with you, losing your closest friend would be too much to bear.

“Y/n?” You heard him say softly behind you, he had always had an uncanny ability to sneak up on people and you supposed you should’ve known he’d come. He was the kindest person you knew, even if something made him uncomfortable he still worried about others. Selfless.

You swiped the tears away as best as you could before you stood and looked at him but it was no use, the second you locked eyes the tears were back.

“Robby, fuck I’m so sorry. I should’ve brought it up the morning after it happened but I-“

“I didn’t remember. And you thought it best to leave it be.”

“Y-yes” you said shakily, and you saw anger flash across his handsome features, a look you weren’t used to seeing from your beloved WSO.

“Damnit y/n! All that time wasted! If-if I’d’ve just known-“ he was shaking his head in frustration and you realized with a shock that he may not have remembered- but he meant what he said.

“Wait- wait, are you saying you meant it?” You said with a whisper, Bob looking at you incredulously like you’d grown three heads or something ridiculous.

“Is that what you’re worried about? That I didn’t… Jesus of course I meant it! How could I not? I think I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you and I feel cheated now! I’ve had you in my arms, kissed you, made love to you and I don’t remember it, but the worst part is knowing that you kept this from me. We could’ve been together this whole time! I’ve been pissing my time away with a girl who couldn’t give a rats ass about me and you’ve been right here all along.”

You were so sure he’d said it in a drunken mistake, braced for the worst that it wasn’t registering that he was telling you everything you wanted to hear, tears still spilling from your eyes as you blinked up at him, and a sound of frustration escaped his mouth as he yanked you into his arms, pressing kisses to your forehead and cheeks, and you melted into him as it finally settled in that this was real.

He took your face in his hands as he tipped your head up to look at him, swiping the tears away with his thumbs while you tried to bring yourself back down from the meltdown.

“Damnit girl it’s always been you, I don’t know how you could’ve thought otherwise.”

You laughed out at your stupidity and leaned up into him as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Now listen, I want to do this right, so before I let myself drown in you like I want I have something I need to do. Stay right here, wait for me.” He kissed you again and released you, already missing his warmth you let out a whine.

He chuckled and swiped a loose curl behind your ear, “in order to make love to you like I want, I have to speak to Lauren. I want a clean slate for us baby, give me a few minutes and I promise after this I’m yours until you’re sick of me.”

“Never gonna happen” you said with a grin and he mirrored you with a brilliant smile of his own.

He had a renewed confidence he hadn’t felt in months as he made his way back inside to get his phone, passing Hangman by the dart board with his arm braced against the wall and a very familiar blonde haired woman shamelessly flirting with him.

Doing a double take he confirmed with a laugh that is was in fact his girlfriend trying to shoot her shot with Jake Seresin and oddly enough it didn’t even surprise him.

“Hey Seresin, glad to see your back.” He said with a smack on the golden haired aviators back, Jake cocking his head to the side with a smirk.

“Baby on Board! Good to see ya, glad to be back home. This is- uhh I’m sorry sugar I don’t know that I got your name” he said gesturing towards the girl and she looked at Bob like a deer in headlights.

“Lauren, her name is Lauren. By the way, whatever was going on with you and me? It’s over sweet pea. I think you two will be very happy together, you like TikTok right Hangman? She’s real big into all that influencer shit. Anyways, you two have a good night, I’ve got somewhere else to be.” He said as he walked off winking at Natasha as she cackled from her perch near the group.

He bounded out into the sand to find you right where he let you, lighter than air as he looped an arm around your waist and pulled you in to kiss you like he’d wanted. You gasped into his mouth as he nipped at your bottom lip and slid his tongue into your mouth to taste you. It was perfect, all your little sweet noises as you grasped at his collar and rubbed your body against his.

“Robby” you gasped out as his lips drifted down your jaw and to your neck and he felt lightheaded over all of it. “What’s on your mind baby” he said as he smiled against your skin and you shivered in his arms. “Take me home? I think- I think we need a do over. Want you so bad.” He couldn’t think of anything better, tossing you over his shoulders as you shrieked and giggled he carried you to the parking lot and placed you gently in the passenger seat of his old beat up truck.

“Let’s get you home sugar, we’ve got a lot of time to make up for, hope you weren’t planning on sleepin’ tonight, I don’t know that I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself.”

You all but crawled into his lap in the bench seat as you ran your hands through his sandy blonde hair,

“I love you. Don’t you dare keep your hands to yourself, want you to love on me until we can’t move anymore, take me home and make me yours.”

And he did. Six months later when he put a ring on your finger it was a surprise to absolutely no one, he’d always pick on you for hiding the truth and you’d never let him live it down that he had forgotten making love to you in the first place. It seemed so silly now looking back on it, knowing you two were meant to be. He’d always been the one, and now he always would be.

———————————————————————

🏷️ tagging people who might be interested- @attapullman @bobfloydsbabe @bobgasm @roosterforme @seitmai @jessicab1991 @sebsxphia @fandom-princess-forevermore @nerdgirljen @lenafromthenordiccoven @sio-ina-bottle @sunsetsimpsblog @auroralightsthesky

If I missed anyone I’m sorry I’m running on three hours of sleep 😭

[hedwig221b]

Do you have any fic recs that involve chasing? Like Derek gives in to the urge to run after stiles and catch him?

I kind of didn't really understand what you were asking lol so here are a few types of "chase" fics:

Mating Run Fics:

Wants & Needs by MadcapRomantic

Derek Hale has been participating in the Beacon Hills Mating Run for a decade, each year coming up without a mate. His mother, convinced this is his lucky year, persuades him to run one last time.

Enter Stiles, a young Omega with an unwanted Alpha nipping at his heels.

Family or not, Peter is determined to have Stiles. But convinced they are True Mates, there isn't anything Derek won't do to keep Stiles safe.

The Cursed Wolf by SinQueen69

2023 Suggestion Anon Wanted: Feral alpha Derek, who has been cursed and got in that feral state. The only way to lift the curse is the "sacrifice" of a pure heart. And Virgin Omega Stiles is willing to help him but the ritual has to be a mating run.

When Things Go Right by SylvieW

Stiles is nervous for the mating run. What if his soulmate is disappointed? Scott’s convinced that Allison will catch him, but Stiles isn’t so sure of his best friend’s girl, and the results could be upsetting for everyone.

Angel Choirs and Magic by LadyDrace

Derek has been very, very patient, and has shown frankly incredible self-control in the face of brutal teasing and flirting for two months. But now it's time for the mating run, and he's about to get his reward.

Except for how maybe it's actually Stiles getting a treat. Win/win.

Stiles gets kidnapped and Derek gives a chase:

Out of Focus by exclamation

Stiles was taken prisoner by a coven of witches. Now his only chance of getting home is if he learns how to control his own magic… and stops blowing stuff up by accident. With surging power inside him that he can't restrain, Stiles must deal with memories of the nogitsune, and fears that he might end up hurting those he cares about.

Meanwhile, his family and friends don't even know if he's alive. His father desperately searches for answers, and Derek will do anything in his power to find Stiles, even if it means asking an Argent for help.

of gods & monsters by Dexterous_Sinistrous

“I’m not the best at conversation. I’ve been told I have no finesse for it.”

Stiles took a step closer to Derek, pushing the billowing silk out of the way. “And what would you say if you looked at me now?”

Derek looked up, startled for a moment when he realized he was now looking at Stiles’ unveiled face. He was silent for a beat, taking in Stiles’ features for the first time, convinced he would never see such beauty unveiled for him alone.

Stiles runs away and Derek catches his ass:

between the click of the light and the start of the dream by thepsychicclam

A twig snaps, and then Stiles hears breathing and the rustle of leaves. He strains to get a better glimpse into the darkness, but it’s pointless. There’s nothing but a black void.

It's Stiles' senior year, and he's trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he's being haunted by a hag. Great.

My Wolf by Dexterous_Sinistrous

“If he wants to mate Stiles, why not let him?” Jackson asked, ready to part with Stiles if need be.

“Because if I did that, I’d be demoting Lydia,” Alpha Stilinski replied.

“We don’t even know how good of a Beta he is,” Lydia countered, bristling some that her status was being challenged.

“That’s because he’s not a Beta,” Alpha Stilinski stated. “He’s an Alpha.”

If you wanted fics with their own chasing scenes, I am sorry to inform you that I have a memory of a goldfish, and do not remember any in particular, though I am sure they exist somewhere in the wild. If someone knows some, please, feel free to add!

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut | mafia

[navybrat817]

A Little Push

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky doesn't think he deserves to be with you, but gets a little push to speak up when he sees your ex. Word Count: Over 5.1k Warnings: E.S.C, unprotected (v)aginal (s)ex (wrap it before you tap it), shower (s)ex, jealousy, (f)lirting, insecurities, slight feels (it's me), idiotic Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?) and an ex. A/N: For @drabblewithfrannybarnes and the gym prompt. I hope you like it! ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly, banner by the lovely @sgt-seabass (and thank you!), and divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wondered some days if he made the right choice by working for S.H.I.E.L.D.. While he didn’t consider himself to be completely standoffish as he recovered, no matter how much Sam tried to joke about that, he still had a difficult time getting along with some of the agents. It wasn’t for lack of trying. He attempted to strike up conversations with a few, but that only led to forced interactions and awkward silences.

He didn’t try much after that.

Maybe they didn’t trust him because of his past, even with the work he had done with the Avengers, even though he had no choice in his past actions. He wouldn’t hold that against them. He was even ready to accept that his circle of friends would remain small, which he didn’t mind.

But he hadn’t expected you to come along.

“You can sit with me if you’d like.”

At first, he thought you were talking to someone else until he realized your gaze was on him. He didn’t recognize you, but he remembered Steve saying that they were getting a transfer from another division. He hoped he wasn’t glaring or giving you an awkward stare, but your beautiful smile threw him for a loop. Unless he was with Steve and the others, no one asked him to sit with them.

But you did.

It took another moment for him to respond, but he took you up on your offer and joined you. He also picked up on the stares right away from the other agents, like they were jealous that he managed to get your attention. He didn’t blame them for wanting it.

Especially since the next smile you gave him made him fall in love a little more.

Maybe love at first sight does exist.

“Do you go by Bucky or James? I can call you Sarge if you want, Sergeant.”

You explained over breakfast that you transferred because you needed a change and were excited to take on some new tasks. He didn’t pick up on any bad intentions as you spoke with him. He found it easy to talk to you. You even got a couple of smiles out of him.

“Thanks for sitting with me. Do you want to have breakfast with me again tomorrow?”

Bucky accepted.

As the two of you grew closer, it became routine to grab breakfast together in the breakroom and chat quietly between reps when you worked out. He even shifted his schedule around so the two of you could exercise together. He looked forward to it.

And naturally on his path to continue making amends, he had to punish himself by thinking he wasn’t good enough for you. Because why would he be? You became an agent to help others and how many had he destroyed? Not by choice, never his choice, but he was still waging that war in his mind and heart.

“Will today finally be the day, Barnes?” Natasha asked as she finished her stretches.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bucky grumbled, his eyes flickering to the clock on the wall as he waited for you to enter the onsite gym.

“Yes, you do and let it be today, please. I can’t have Rogers winning the pool.”

“You’re taking bets, Romanoff?” he asked with a cold stare, as if the Black Widow would cower under his gaze. “Un-fucking-believable.”

He told Steve in confidence that he liked being around you. So, naturally, Sam and Natasha found out not long after that. Steve said more than once that Bucky wouldn’t be breaking any bylaws by dating you. Natasha added in passing that mixing business with pleasure didn’t seem to bother you as you had dated another agent sometime back before your transfer. An amicable breakup from what Sam heard.

For living in a world of spies and soldiers, no one could seem to keep their mouths shut.

“I’ll split the winnings with you,” she offered unapologetically. “You can use it to take her on a date. You do have something nice to wear that isn’t a Henley, right?”

The smartass remark he had on the tip of his tongue died when you walked through the door. Clad in your normal black tank top and leggings with your bag on your shoulder, he found himself staring the way he always did as you glided along the floor with confidence and a smile. A few heads turned to get a glimpse as you walked by.

But you directed your gaze at him.

“Hey, handsome,” you smiled, setting your bag and water down. You didn’t call anyone handsome or any other sort of nickname, except for him.

“Hi?”

Why did that come out as a question?

“Hopeless,” Natasha muttered softly enough for him to hear. “Hey.”

“Hey, Nat. How’s it going?”

His cheeks warmed as you began your stretches and chatted with the redhead, wanting nothing more than to put his hands on your hips and guide your body. He wanted to believe that you liked him enough for him to make a move. Why else would you keep getting breakfast with him?

And why else were you bending over right in front of him in a pair of leggings that looked like a second skin?

Fuck.

“Oh, I have your book in my bag,” you said, looking at him from between your legs. “Thanks for lending it to me.”

Thank fuck I’m upside down from your angle so you don’t see me staring at your ass.

Guilt crept in as he blinked. You were nothing but kind and accepting and here he was oogling over you. Why couldn’t he get it through his head that he was your friend and nothing more?

On the other hand, why couldn’t he get it through his head that he had the right to be happy?

“Don’t mention it,” he said.

“Do you mind spotting me?” you asked once you finished warming up. “Unless you plan to help Nat. I can wait.”

“Oh, no. I’m just here for entertainment,” she joked.

“Thanks,” you smiled, heading to the first machine with Bucky in tow. “Any plans this weekend?” you asked, checking the weight on the bar before you took a seat.

“No plans,” he said, taking his spot at the end of the bench so he could spot you. “Kind of a boring old man.”

“You’re not boring,” you said, winking as you laid back. “But I’ll give you old.”

“Rude,” he smiled as you giggled. “What about you?”

“Nope. No plans,” you answered, giving him a glance as you set your hands on the bar. “No plans at all.”

Are you giving me an opening?

“That’s too bad,” is what he said.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” you said with quiet disappointment.

Sorry, Nat. Not winning the pool today because I’m a fucking idiot.

Bucky kept stealing glances at you as the two of you went through your normal workout routine, unable to figure out how you managed to look beautiful while lifting weights. The fact of the matter is you looked beautiful to him no matter what you did. He fluctuated between his heart stopping and losing his breath whenever he saw you. Especially when you smiled at him.

And he wouldn’t take that leap.

“You know what sounds really nice? A massage,” you said, setting the weight down to grab your water. He focused on your mouth as you brought the bottle to your lips, his fingers flexing as you swallowed once. Twice.

Are you giving me another opening?

Before Bucky could think of a suave reply, the door opened. A tall, dark haired agent he didn’t recognize walked in and did a slow sweep of the gym. From the quick assessment, he gathered that the guy was in shape. He didn’t necessarily walk through like he owned the place, but it bordered on cockiness.

I don’t even know him, so why do I want to punch his face in?

“Wait. Is that Nate?” you asked, your gaze following the man as Natasha silently walked over to join you. “What’s he doing here?”

Nate?

“You know him?” Bucky asked as the guy, Nate apparently, stopped to chat with someone by the mirrors.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, setting your water down and wiping your hands on your thighs as you avoided his gaze. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.”

Ex-boyfriend?

“You two worked in the same division, didn’t you? Before you transferred?” Natasha asked. You nodded in reply. “It didn’t work out with you two, huh?”

“No, but it wasn’t a dramatic breakup or anything. No hard feelings,” you explained.

Bucky remembered Sam saying it was amicable, but he still felt the need to shield you away from your ex. Even if he hadn’t spotted you yet. Maybe he was ignoring you. That couldn’t be it. No one could ignore you.

Did you want him to notice you?

“That’s a shame,” Natasha said, swinging her gaze toward Bucky. “He’s cute.”

Traitor. Thought you were my friend.

“Yeah, he is,” you agreed.

Bucky grabbed the nearest barbell to get his head back into why he was in the gym in the first place, gritting his teeth so hard he was shocked they didn’t crack.

“And there’s this thing he used to do with his tongue that just…” you trailed off with a sigh.

The metal hand gripped the barbell tighter. Nate was an ex, not a current boyfriend. It didn’t work out for a reason.

“You need a moment?” the redhead asked.

“No, I just need to get laid,” you said, glancing at Bucky out of the corner of your eye.

If you need to get laid, I can help you with that. Not Nate or some other prick. They’re not worthy of touching you. Neither am I, but that’s not the fucking point. I can do things with my tongue that’ll make you see stars.

“Bucky?” you asked gently. “Are you okay?”

Far fucking from it.

“Yeah, I’m good. Why?”

You pointed to the barbell in his hands. “Because you just bent that in half.”

Glancing down at his hands, he saw that the stainless steel was indeed bent in half and ignored Natasha’s snort as he tried to fix it. “I was just testing the durability. It’s terrible. A health and safety hazard, really.”

“I didn’t realize your job involved quality assurance,” you teased as he set the piece of equipment down.

“It’s kind of a new hobby,” he said, a weird look crossing his face.

A new hobby? Really?

“Okay, Sarge,” you giggled.

Your laughter seemed to catch Nate’s attention since he immediately looked behind him. A look of realization crossed his features before he smiled. The look on his face made Bucky’s heart drop as he excused himself from the agent he was speaking to and made a beeline toward you. The man may not be your boyfriend anymore, but he still felt something for you.

Either that or the look of longing was easily faked.

“Hey!" Nate smiled as he stopped in front of you, opening his arms as he leaned in. "Good to see you."

“You, too. And you don’t want to do that,” you said, gesturing to yourself. “I’m all sweaty.”

“Never bothered me before,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. He met Bucky’s gaze over your shoulder with the smallest of smirks. “Smell just as good as I remember.”

“Don’t,” Natasha whispered to Bucky when the hug lingered for a few more seconds.

Bucky wasn’t planning on doing anything. Not right now, at least. Committing murder wasn’t on his “to do” list when he woke up today, but he was seconds away from snapping. Would you forgive him if he broke one of Nate’s bones?

“You must be Bucky,” Nate said once he released you.

He had to stop himself from shoving you behind his back. “You must be the ex,” he said, not bothering with any attempt to be friendly. “Why are you here?”

Nate either didn’t intimidate easily or he didn’t care. “You talked about me?” he teased, nudging you with his elbow.

“No, not really,” you smiled a little, raising an eyebrow at Bucky.

He tried to keep a straight face because he wasn’t jealous. He had no reason to be jealous. That certainly wasn’t the reason why his fingers began to twitch. Wasn’t the reason he wanted to knock Nate’s teeth in.

Not at all.

“To anwer your question, I accepted a transfer and was getting a look around the place. I was also here to exercise, but now I think I want to catch up,” he smiled, turning his attention back to you.

“You transferred here?” you asked in disbelief.

You don’t sound thrilled, which is a good sign, right?

“Yeah, I got promoted,” he explained, angling his body to put distance between you and Bucky. “You doing anything after this?”

“Me,” Bucky said before his brain caught up with his mouth.

Maybe you didn't hear me.

Your eyebrows shot up as you leaned around Nate to stare at Bucky. "I'm doing you?" you asked.

Fuck, you heard me.

"Yeah, Barnes. Is she doing you?" Natasha asked without a hint of humor in her tone as Nate glared over his shoulder.

"I mean," he cleared his throat as he tried to think of an excuse, which wasn't easy with three pairs of eyes on him. "She's hanging out with me. Movie night."

"It's not even nighttime," Nate said skeptically.

"It's an early movie night," he grumbled.

"Yeah, an early movie night," you agreed slowly. Bucky almost sighed in relief before you looked at Nate. "But we can catch up later, okay? Think my workout is over for now."

Bucky's mouth fell open when you went to grab your things. "But-"

"Movie night. I know. Thanks for your help," you smiled, but it seemed forced. "I'll see you later, Nat. And Nate."

"Later," Nate said, his gaze lingering as you headed toward the locker room. "She really is something, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is," Bucky agreed, staring after you, too. He couldn't argue with that.

"It's really nice that you two are friends," Nate smiled, clapping Bucky on the shoulder as his blood boiled. "Enjoy your movie night."

Natasha stepped in front of Bucky before he could go after the prick. "Do not," she said as Nate headed toward another machine.

"I have to do something," Bucky said because he was close to losing it.

"You really want to do something?" she asked, tilting her head toward the locker room. "Go talk to her. Please."

"Fine. I will," Bucky said, stepping around Natasha as he made up his mind.

"I meant when she was done!" she called after him.

Bucky stalked toward the locker room and pushed the double doors open. He took a breath as he walked through the first row of lockers and spotted you sitting on the bench. Was he making a big mistake?

"You lost?" you asked, removing one of your shoes.

He crossed his arms and shook his head as you took off the other shoe. "You didn't do a cool down."

You met his eyes and smiled. "That's why you came in here?"

"Did you know Nate would be here?" he blurted out.

Smooth.

You blinked slowly at him before you removed your socks. "Nope. And why would it matter if I did? He still works for this organization. Besides, we broke up and moved on."

"If he moved on, why was he smiling at you like that?" he accused.

You stood up with a shrug. "Because we get along? He's a friendly guy. That's just how he is."

"I know how guys smile at girls they like," he said. He knew because he smiled at you that way. "He's still into you."

The frown you gave him made him want to kiss it away before you giggled. "He is not into me anymore."

"Are you two going to date again?" he asked, taking two steps forward. You were still out of his reach. "I know I don't have the right to ask, but I have to know."

Because you're not my girl.

“No, you don't," you confirmed, your gaze softening as you shook your head. "But no, I’m not going to date him again. He's my ex for a reason and that's that."

Bucky inhaled and exhaled slowly, able to breathe a little easier.

"Why? Would it bother you if I did? Because if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were jealous. Bending the bar? Your not-so-subtle excuse for me not to hang out with him? Following me in here?"

The words got stuck in his throat as you waited for an answer, an expectant look on your face. Why was it so hard to say that it would bother him? It shouldn't because if that made you happy, he'd respect that.

Was it wrong that he wanted you to be happy with him and not some other guy?

You hung your head for a split second before you turned back to your locker. "Look, are you done grilling me or are you sticking around?" you asked, pulling your top over your head. "Because I have to shower."

"You think I won't follow you and finish this conversation?"

Your bra came off next. He knew that because you tossed the garment at his face and he was too stunned to catch it. It took him a moment to realize that you were facing him again, your breasts on display as you placed your hands on your hips.

A gentleman would have looked away. A good man would have left. But he was something else entirely and he couldn't stop staring at the vision of perfection in front of him.

"You're free to do whatever you want," you said casually as you spun around and shimmied out of your leggings. His eyes followed the curves as your underwear came off next and it took everything in him not to throw you across the bench and fuck you until you screamed his name. "But I told you. I have to shower."

Bucky didn't speak as you grabbed your towel and shower bag. You didn't bother covering up as you sauntered away from him, like being naked around him was a perfectly normal thing. He wanted it to be a normal thing.

Was that an invitation? Should he take it? Or was it a test?

"Fuck it," he mumbled as he kicked off his shoes and stripped, leaving his clothes next to yours as he searched for you again. If you ended up screaming or punching him, he'd accept that punishment and beg your forgiveness later. He let this go on long enough.

He froze when he saw you under the spray of the water, his cock twitching with interest as he watched the droplets slide from your chest to the vee between your legs. You had your eyes closed and he wasn't sure if he should call out to get your attention. He didn't want to frighten you and make you fall.

You gasped when you opened your eyes, but didn't make a move to cover yourself. He imagined this is what some men saw when a siren lured them out to sea. Beauty that they weren't worthy of looking upon, but too far gone to care as the tide swept them away.

"I guess you really want to finish that conversation?" you asked, your gaze dropping from his face to his chest and a bit lower.

Under your gaze, he wasn't afraid of you looking upon his scars. "I was jealous. I am jealous. I hated seeing him touch you," he admitted.

He wanted to replace Nate's touch with his own.

"There's nothing to be jealous of," you said, swallowing as he moved forward.

"Can't help it," he said, not blinking as he moved closer. "You also said I could do whatever I wanted."

"I did," you nodded.

His wide shoulders blocked some of the spray as he stepped into the shower and backed you against the wall. "What if I said I wanted to do you?"

Very fucking eloquent.

"I'd say it's about fucking time since I've been trying to get your attention and it better not be a joke," you said, placing your hands on his shoulders as your gaze went to his chest again.

You actually want me. Fuck.

He grasped your chin and lifted your head. The corner of his mouth twitched like he wanted to smile and his heart raced as his lips ghosted over yours. "You like me? And you want me to fuck you?"

He needed to hear you say it.

"I was hinting for you to ask me out this weekend. I thought it was obvious?" you asked, a small, vulnerable crack in your voice. "I like you, okay? I'm crazy about you. I have been since you sat down and had breakfast with me that first day and I-"

"I'm a fucking idiot," he whispered before his lips met yours.

His head spun as he kissed you unashamedly, unleashing the want he kept pent up for too long and showing no mercy as he swallowed down the moan you let out. His hands slid down to grip your ass, capturing another small sound in his mouth as he slipped his thigh between your legs. Now that it was out in the open, that you wanted him, he couldn't stop himself.

Unless you told him to.

"So, you like me, too?" you breathed out as he pressed kisses along your neck, your nails digging into his shoulders as he thrust his knee against your wetness.

Gonna lose my fucking mind when I'm inside you.

"So much that I wanted to break Nate's fingers. Or his face," he told you, nipping over your pulse, but careful not to leave a mark. "Want you to forget all about that thing he does with his fucking tongue."

"You up for the challenge?" you teased before he growled.

"Up for it?" he asked as he slid a hand up to your chest, his thumb brushing over your nipple as you whimpered for him. "I'm gonna ruin you. That's a fucking promise."

"Do it. Please," you begged, bringing a hand down to brush your fingers along his thick cock. "Ruin me."

You already looked overwhelmed with pleasure, your eyes half lidded and mouth parted as Bucky moved his knee away and brought one of your legs around his hip. He wanted to fall to his knees and get a taste, but he'd claim you later with his tongue. "Not letting you go if I have you," he warned you, helping you stroke him.

"You better not," you said.

Bucky could've put his fingers under the water, but he brought them to his mouth to wet them before he slipped it between your legs. "You'll be mine," he said as he teased your hole.

"I'm already yours," you gasped as he carefully pushed a finger in and thrust slowly.

"Are you?" he asked, brushing his lips against your jaw as he slid a second finger in. "Fuck, you're tight. You may kill me."

"Yes, I'm yours. And I won't kill you, but I'll make you sorry if you don't fuck me," you huffed impatiently.

He chuckled as he removed his fingers, missing the heat of your body. He understood not wanting to wait any longer. He fucked his own hand enough nights as he thought of you to know that it wasn't enough.

"What if someone walks in?" he questioned, sucking his fingers clean with an obscene groan.

I can convince you to take a day off just to eat you out, right?

"I don't care!" you cried, your voice echoing in the stall as he moved the tip of his cock along your folds. You canted your hips as you tried to take him in and, fuck, if that didn't feed his ego. "If you don't fuck me, I swear I'll- AHH!"

He groaned as he slid home in one thrust, his eyes fluttering shut as your velvety walls gripped him like your life depended on it. He took a deep breath so he didn't lose it on the second thrust. Your perfect pussy was his new home. He never wanted to leave.

"Fuck, baby, you're so needy. I think you want everyone to see that you're mine now," he groaned as he caressed your thigh and drove in deep. Your cunt welcomed each slide as he kept your hips still with his other hand. "Gonna fuck you so hard you won't walk for a week. The way I should've from the start."

"Don't hold back," you moaned, clenching lightly around him. "I can take it."

Bucky couldn't remember ever fucking someone so possessively. "Pussy's even better than I imagined. Made for me. Made for me to wreck."

"Fuck, yes," you cried in response. "Touched myself thinking of you fucking me."

"You fucked your perfect pussy thinking of me?" he asked, imagining your fingers deep inside you. "Moaned my name?"

"Yes," you replied, biting your lip. "Fingers aren't as big as you."

Fuck. There's only so much a man can take.

"Look so beautiful taking my cock. Gonna be so good to you," he grunted, his wet hair falling in front of his eyes. If he had to guess, he probably looked unhinged. Feral. Out of control. "Not letting you go."

Instead of looking afraid, you reached up and lightly threaded your fingers through his hair as your leg shook against his hip. "I won't let you."

He kissed you, almost delirious as the rush of pleasure began to take over. You took his hard, fast thrusts, the symphony of your cries and his moans adding to the sound of wet, slapping skin. Later, he'd make love to you, kiss over every square inch of your beautiful body. He'd tell how crazy he is about you. How you made him happy again.

For now, he needed you to scream his name for the whole gym to hear.

"I'm close, Bucky," you panted into his mouth. "Please."

He doubled his efforts, thrusting so hard he lost his breath with each snap of his hips. "If you're really mine, come. Come for me."

You nearly sobbed his name as you quivered around him, a wave of wetness coating his cock as he kept up his pace and fucked you through your orgasm. "Good girl," he praised as you went limp in his hold.

It was a beautiful sight. Your dazed expression, your cunt clenching with a fresh wave of wetness as you whined. A fucking vision.

"I'm gonna…" he warned, his muscles tensing up as he got closer to the edge.

"Come in me," you begged, tightening around him again. "Please, I need it."

Fuck.

Bucky spilled hot and thick inside you with a guttural moan as he let the ecstasy within him explode, relieved that you didn't make him leave the haven of your body. He was careful not to crush you against the wall as he tried to catch his breath and process that what just happened was real. It wasn't a dream or fantasy. He had you in his arms under the warm water.

Could've had this ages ago if I spoke up.

His lips found yours, his kiss softer than the previous ones. He wasn't sure how long he held you like that, but it was everything he dreamt of and everything he denied himself. He wouldn't do that again.

"You okay? Did I hurt you?"

"No," you smiled, your breathing still a bit tagged. "And I think I can still walk."

He growled playfully as he rolled his hips, thankful that he had the strength to keep holding you up. His stamina was good for some things. "Come to movie night and I'll make sure you don't walk. You did say you needed to get laid."

"I did say that," you smiled, nipping his bottom lip. "I'll do a movie night if you take me out on a real date."

"This weekend since neither of us have plans. I'd be a bad boyfriend if I didn't take care of you, right?" he asked, kissing the corner of your mouth to avoid your surprised gaze.

Pushed my luck this far. I can go a bit further.

"It's a date," you smiled.

Bucky smiled back as he reached over to shut the water off, wishing he could blame the warmth for the blush in his cheeks. "Sorry it took me so long to get my head out of my ass."

"I forgive you," you said, your nose nudging his.

"I just wanted you to have better," he whispered.

You deserve the best.

You blinked away the leftover pleasure that lingered in your eyes. "What? You're already the best guy I know, handsome. No one is better than you," you said, the sincerity in your eyes making his heart twist. "I know you'll be the best boyfriend for me."

Thank you.

"Well, as the best boyfriend, I think I owe you one more orgasm before we go," he smirked, his hands roaming your body. "If you're up for it."

"I'll take whatever you give me," you said before you smirked back. "But maybe I should thank Nate since he's the one who got your head out of your ass."

"Don't you fucking dare," he said, kissing you breathless before you could say his name again.

Bucky was your boyfriend now and the only name he wanted to tumble from your beautiful lips was his own. He'd do whatever he could to make that happen. And be the man you deserve.

Natasha watched from the corner of the gym as you and Bucky emerged from the locker room minutes later. You had stars in your eyes and Bucky looked over the moon. Your legs wobbled slightly and the soldier easily slid an arm around your waist to steady you and walk you out. He even threw Nate a smirk and a wink when he got a glimpse of the two of you.

The redhead messaged the group chat for the bet once the two of you were out of sight. "Locker room. I won."

"What? I was so close!" Steve messaged back.

"Cheater!" Sam sent. "I know you got her ex transferred here. Don't deny it."

"I did not get him transferred. I just knew and didn't tell them he'd be here today. I expect my payment at dinner tonight."

The redhead put her phone away as she tried not to smile. Bucky just needed a push and she wasn't afraid to play a little dirty. But she'd keep her word and split the winnings.

The two of you deserved a nice date, after all.

Oh, Bucky. Whatever will we do with you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[pimosworld]

Push

Pairing- Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary- Joel never gets pushed too far, except when it comes to you.

CW-18+,MDNI,NSFW, jackson era Joel, established relationship, Ellie is a menace, reader is a bad ass, canon typical violence, blood, wounds, minor character death, protective Joel, protective reader, Angst, Smut,unprotected piv,Joel needs a big ol hug, no description of reader, no use of y/n.

WC-3.5k

A/N- Joel has inspired me lately and I may be procrastinating too much with him but I just can’t help myself.

[Main Masterlist][Joel Miller Masterlist]

Not beta read

Maybe you should’ve pushed back a little when Ellie suggested you travel a little further to the pond just outside of the patrol area. Some small part of you was still trying to bond with the teenager despite you knowing how much she admired you. It was a little selfish to want to impress someone that knew next to nothing about what the world had been. 

  She was so persistent and just like Joel you couldn’t resist those eyes and her smile. 

  “Please I promise it will be quick.” Her face was fixed in a pout and you thought what harm could it be to let her live a little. 

  You’d spent months on this route, many times with Joel,Tommy or Ellie. You hadn’t seen a living soul out here in so long that you forgot what you were even patrolling for. 

  You feel a push in the direction down the tall grass path as the sweat drips down your back. The first really hot day you’ve had in a while and it makes you dizzy. Unable to form a coherent thought. All poor excuses for not being able to make the right decisions. 

  You suppose the horses need a break too as the pond comes into view like a mirage. Ellie trotting a little faster when she sees the ripple of the water calling her name. You can hear it faintly in the distance calling out to you as the shade from the willow casts a perfect shadow onto the landscape in front of you. The lush green, tiny leaves still flowing in the light breeze before the heat has them give way to yellow and orange. 

  She’s already off her horse, socks and shoes discarded as she steps boldly into the water up to her knees. Joel would kill her for being so careless with her clothes but you know he often forgot how impatient children could be. 

  He was equally as impatient with you when you’d return from a long day of not seeing him, not being able to run your fingers through his soft curls at the nape of his neck. Not wanting to waste another moment with your body pressed up against his. He’d take you in the hallway when Ellie was gone, practically tripping over himself to get to you. 

  You try not to think about that now as you strip your boots off next to the water. Unlike Ellie you don’t fancy wet pants so you take those off too, laying them gently along the horse's back. You try not to think about how nice it would be to dip into this pond with him, bare as you float with your legs wrapped around his waist while he holds you safely under so not to expose you to the elements or any prying eyes. 

  Perhaps the prying eyes you would’ve seen had Ellie not pushed you into the cold water. It takes your breath away at first. Despite the heat outside, the last remnants of snow seem to still linger in this private sanctuary. The water is colder than anything you’ve felt. You come up gasping for air as she stands before you keeled over in laughter and you can’t help but join her when you look down at your disheveled state. 

  “Wow you’re so clumsy.” She says as she feigns innocence. 

  “That was a dirty trick.” You splash her as she screams running back to the water's edge. “I’m gonna tell Joel you’re afraid of water.” You yell back at her as your body acclimates to the frigid temperature. The oversized shirt you borrowed from Joel clinging to your skin as your hands skim along the tops of the water. 

  “You wouldn’t dare loser. I’ll tell him this was your idea.” You know she would too, and he might’ve believed her had the circumstances been different. 

  Ellie’s already lacing up her boots when you hear it. A disturbance in the trees too loud over the sound of your heart beating faster. The hair standing up on the back of your neck as you turn around and lock eyes with two men on horseback. Two men who’ve never set foot in the little community you’ve built into a family. Two men who don’t look like they want to ask for directions. Two men sizing up the competition while you scramble for a way to get Ellie to safety because you know Joel would kill you if you contemplated any less. 

  “Well aren’t you just an angel in white.” The younger man says as he takes you in. Your shirt soaked through leaving nothing to the imagination and your damn pants draped neatly on your horse. 

  You can hear your name being called again as you turn to Ellie, wide eyed across the pond. 

  “Go!” 

  “What the fuck no, I’m not leaving you!” She yells back, the ever overconfident spit fire that she is. 

  A quick whistle behind you and you’re moving to the water line before they cut you both off. It’s save Ellie or none of you. 

  “Ellie so help me god, if you never listen to me another day in your life listen to me right now and go!” She starts to protest but the horse beside her is getting restless. “I promise I’ll be right behind you.” 

  Even if it’s not true you say it all the same. She mounts her horse with tears in her eyes as she takes off through the tall grass. 

  “We got a runner.” The man not much older than Joel juts his chin on Ellie’s direction. You’re grateful she’s far out of your eyesight with her horse that’s much faster than yours. 

  “Want me to go after her?” The other man snarls as if you’re not standing right there. Enough of a distraction to at least make it near your horse. 

  The last thing you want is to be stuck between these two desperate souls. Without pants…that’s not how you expected to die. Wading through this cool oasis only to be met by the devil. 

  “No loose ends.” He smirks at you as you retrieve your bow from the pack on your horse. You don’t suppose he knew those would be his last words, but he pushed you to this. 

  You raise your arm high, steadying the bow as you feel the tension of the string beneath your fingers. Joel always said you were a better shot with this than a revolver and he could never figure out how. 

  “Now what are you gonna do with that besides piss me —“ . It’s only the sound of the whoosh next to your ear before he’s clutching his hands around the arrow lodged in his throat. His partner's momentary shock buys you enough time to at least get half dressed before you mount your horse. 

  His dramatic fall to the ground causes his horse to skitter off as you give chase in the opposite direction of Ellie, the opposite direction of the safe town that you love so much that holds the man who loves you just as hard. Who will be cursing you for being the savior when you could’ve been selfish. 

  ****

  Joel hates these days. Bright, beautiful, sunny days. It’s days like these where things always seemed to go wrong. Like the universe knows to throw a little chaos into something otherwise so perfect. Nothing in this world is allowed to be that perfect. Except you. 

  You were the reason he started drifting away from the gloom and overcast and started to bask in the sun. Let the warmth of the rays wash over him like a golden flame bath. 

  When he’d catch you laying in the yard just glowing and he never wanted to disturb you but you always seemed to know when his presence loomed near. Maybe his scent or the magnetic pull you both had on each other as you pat the patch of grass next you. He’d grumble about his back and his knees later but in those moments he didn’t care. Not when you smile so sweet next to him as you block the sun with your hand. 

  “Where’s Ellie?” You already half know the answer. If she was anywhere near she’d have been out here grumbling just like Joel about you laying in the sun all while joining you in the activity. 

  “She’s at a friends…why’d ya-.” He can’t even get the words out before you’re up. Throwing one leg over his waist as you push him down. He grunts and lays back rolling his eyes at your theatrics. 

  He doesn’t really think you’re gonna do what it looks like you’re doing and he’s proved right when you scoot down just enough to settle onto his chest. The front of you all warm against him as you breathe in the smell of his flannel. Your arms come to rest on his shoulders as you wiggles your ass a little more to find the right spot. He just looks down at you curiously as you tilt your head to the side and sigh. Finally content with your position on top of him, listening to his steady heartbeat. 

  His heartbeat has picked up a little at the close proximity of you. A position you’ve been in much more compromising in your shared bedroom with much less clothes. He can see it now as he closes his eyes, your naked body on top of his as you take from him what you want. You chuckle as you feel his cock twitch beneath you as he lets his mind wander a little further. That earns you a pinch which makes you laugh even harder. 

  “Quit squirmin’ honey or I’m gonna have to do something’ about this.” His hands grip your waist as he pulls you in closer and a shudder runs through your body. 

  “M’ not squirmin’.” You mumble into his chest. 

  “Mhmm, ya comfortable enough?” His voice is low and slow like he’s drifting off to sleep. 

  “Ya Miller, I’m comfortable.” 

  ****

  The sun is still high in the sky, but he can tell it’s later than it should be. He stands with his arms crossed against the gate staring off into the open plains. You and Ellie were always punctual with morning patrol returns. Or maybe he should say you. The routine you grew to love when you were first assigned. It left you the day to do what you wanted. Take a nap, read a book, make dinner and visit with Maria. 

  He’s growing impatient as he watches the horizon for any signs of you. His eyes playing tricks on him when he thinks he can procure an image of the two of you laughing about something as you approach the town. He squints even more and he can hear your voice now telling him in another life he’d need an optometrist. 

  He pushes off the gate when another image threatens to make him think he’s lost his mind. He thinks he has when his heart drops into his stomach at the sight of Ellie on her horse. Kicking up dust and riding faster towards him than he’s ever seen in his life. The two of you aren’t racing or playing some sick joke on him. It’s just her coming into view, panicked eyes as she locks onto his. 

  He doesn’t wait for Tommy, doesn’t wait for backup that may slow him down anyways as he mounts his horse to meet her in the open. Not bothering to tell the patrol past the gate what he’s doing and where he’s going. 

  He can see the dry tears and the fresh ones too as he gets closer to her. “Where?” He doesn’t have time to worry about the what, why or how. 

  “The pond.” She chokes out as he curses under his breath. “It was all my fault…I just -.” 

  “Save it.” It’s said harsher than he intends but he still can’t help himself. Knowing whose idea it was to go beyond the chartered territory. Knowing you had a weak spot who happened to be named Ellie. His quick bite is enough of a punishment as he takes off in the same direction she came from. He knows she beat herself up enough on the way here and probably made up time with the way she pushed her horse. 

  He leaves her in the dust as the sound of hoofbeats pound the dry ground beneath him. His chest burns like he’s running as he grips the reins tighter with each passing second. The sweat drips down his back that aches with the pressure of not having ridden this hard in years. He got too comfortable in this town, too used to the mundane way of life. He hadn’t been reminded of what it felt like to have that dread creep in. To feel the rush of adrenaline that he grew so used to in his past life. 

  He’s gone soft. 

  The relaxed fall turned into a lazy winter with no murmurs of trouble or infected. Spring made it feel like some utopia that they’d stumbled upon and he’d let the universe pull the wool over his eyes. 

  You shouldn’t be here…a bright sunny day as it beats down on him. Taunting him with how beautiful the landscape is around him as he barrels through the trees into the undesignated area. 

  The one rule he told you never to break because trouble lurks near water. People, animals, monsters. 

  He comes to an abrupt stop at the edge of the water searching for any sign of you. There’s an unfamiliar horse next to an unrecognizable body. He does recognize one thing jutting out of the man’s throat. An arrow. A clean shot, cutting off his airway. He likely died slow as his throat filled with blood and he choked on it until he couldn’t breathe anymore. 

  He tears his eyes away from the nameless bastard and locks onto your boots. His chest tightens even more at the sight and he’s trying hard to fill his lungs with air. He’s suffocating much like the lifeless body next to him. 

  He hears your shriek of his name as he whips his head around and sees nothing. Just the trees blowing in the wind. He shouts for you as the weight piles on. The horse beneath him grows frantic as your cries echo in his mind. 

  This is quite possibly the worst time to be having a panic attack but that’s all he feels as he bellows your name. Each call a heavier weight on his chest until  no sound escapes at all. He clutches at his shirt trying to rip it free from his body, it’s too hot and clingy and he can’t get any air. 

  “Joel!” Nothing, just blackness behind his eyes. “Joel, honey, wake up!” 

  His hands are shaking as he blinks trying to figure out where you are. 

  “Honey, look at me.” You’re straddling his waist with your hands on his chest. Fresh tears rolling down your face with wide panicked eyes. 

  He pushes you off him so fast it startles you. You’ve switched positions now as he traps your body between his arms. You’re not entirely sure he’s fully aware of the situation and that scares you a little. The sweat dripping from his brow and the way his chest heaves with every breath. 

  He pulls your face back with his large palms and grips your chin in his hand. Frantically tossing it side to side. “Are you hurt?” His voice is wrecked from yelling for god knows how long. 

  “No Joel, I’m fine.” You say as a tear that’s not yours drops down onto your face. 

  “Did he hurt you?” It’s strained and shaky as he pulls up your shirt, his that he lets you borrow at night. Inspecting your body for any signs of damage. You just shake your head afraid of answering in a sob, the lump forming in your throat at the sight of him still so worried. 

  He breathes in deep through his nose and lets out a small sigh of relief. His head drops to the crook of your neck as he lets the full weight of him fall into you. You’re both exhausted for completely different reasons. It was starting to scare you not being able to pull him out of this nightmare. He just kept screaming your name as you tried to shake him awake. You didn’t want him to endure any longer what was plaguing his mind when he was supposed to be sleeping peacefully at your side. 

  It’s a moment before he speaks. You rubbing his back as you kiss him softly reassuring him that you were right where you needed to be. 

  “Don’t you ever do anything like that to me again.” He murmurs into your neck in all seriousness. “You come straight home next time.” 

  “Yes Miller, I’ll always come home to you.” Now’s not the time to tease so you just agree to never commit whatever atrocity it was that had him gripped with fear. Although you can take a wild guess that your name will be scratched from the patrol board for a few weeks. 

  He sits up a little to look down at you. His eyes are still red but a little more of your Joel in them. He plants a long kiss to your forehead as you place your hand over his heart. The steady thump under your palm much calmer than before. 

  “Where’s Ellie?” 

  “She’s at a friend's house, remember?” 

  Faintly he recalls her asking and you telling her yes, that must have been hours ago. All he knows now is that you’re alone and that he didn’t wake her. 

  You’re alone

  As his hands drift under the hem of the oversized shirt. Your soft skin raised with goosebumps as his fingers trail up higher until he reaches the underside of your breast. 

  “Joel.” You gently stop him and search his eyes in the dark room. “Are you sure?” 

  “Please baby, I need you.” Joel groans out, his plea much different at this hour. He needs to feel that you’re real, that you’re here. The strongest soul couldn’t resist Joel Miller begging for you like his life depends on it. 

  When you oblige it’s frantic, his hands pulling the shirt over your head while your foot hooks into his boxers dragging them down. His mouth is all over you, kissing and biting and breathing you in. He’s growling in your ear that he needs to be inside you and you know he’s desperate when he normally takes his sweet time with you. 

  This isn’t like one of those times and you don’t need it to be. You just need him, all of him all the time. 

  A groan leaves his lips as you grip the base of his cock, rubbing it between your folds. You’re so wet already at the sight of him above you, his arms bracing his weight so you can like him up. 

  It’s sinful the sound that leaves your mouth when he pushes in,burying himself to the hilt in one fluid motion. “Shit sweetheart, so tight.” His words are slurred as he braces his hand on the headboard behind you. His other hand gripping your thigh over his waist. 

  You don’t have a chance to respond. Only moans and whimpers of his name as he punches the air from your lungs with each thrust of his hips. The sound of skin on skin as you cling to his biceps and shoulders, anything to keep you from tipping over the edge too soon. 

  He’s babbling above you about how perfect you feel and you just clench around him at the praise. 

  He’s close and he can see just as much as feel how close you are by the way your eyes practically roll in the back of your head when he angles your hips up, hitting that spot deep inside that only he could seem to find. 

  He reaches between your sweat soaked bodies trailing his hands down but you stop him. He thinks he’s done something wrong briefly until you place his hand back on your thigh and that look of longing flashes in your eyes. “I want to come like this.”  

  He grits his teeth at the filthiest thing you’ve ever said. Fucking you with vigor as his hips begin the falter. 

  “Can I?”

  “Fuck yes Joel, come inside me please.” 

  The pressure boils over at your words. The way it comes out all rushed and desperate. You’re arching your back as you fall over the edge with him. You’re clinging to him like a life vest as he groans in your ear. The light flashing behind his eyes at the most mind blowing orgasm he’s ever had. 

  He pushes down that feeling that he almost lost you. The one that isn’t real because you’re right here beneath him, looking at him as you brush the hair back from his face like he hung the moon. He kisses the corner of your mouth and down your jaw as you sleepily humm to yourself. 

  “I’m sorry for wakin’ ya darlin.” 

  “It’s okay Joel, don’t have patrol for a couple days.” 

  Tommy can bitch all he wants, you’ll never have patrol again. 

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

[chiriwritesstuffnotifs]

The New Girl in Tinseltown - Chapter 1 - Ukiyo

A Dieter Bravo x Actress! Reader PR Marriage AU

Series Masterlist │ Next Chapter

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Summary: Tired of being pigeonholed into your good girl persona, you take a chance on a night out with Dieter Bravo, America's favorite Bad Boy. A drunken night leads to the two of you in Las Vegas...

Chapter Warnings and Tags: (Not So) meet cute, PR Relationships, what happens in Vegas ends up in the headlines, Dieter just does not give a FUCK, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, a look at the inner workings of Tinseltown and the sleaziness it comes with, Somnophilia, Slightly Dub-Con (but she's into it), cunnilingus, SLOW BURN WE DONT KNOW IT, this is unhinged, no use of y/n, No beta we die like men!

Word Count: 3.1 K

A/N: After the insistence of some of my readers wanting me to write a Dieter story, I finally bit the bullet! I will be honest - it's tough for me to watch 'The Bubble' in its entirety. Hence, I heavily relied on TikTok and its fabulous edits of Dieter to develop his characterization. This was really fun for me to write, and I hope you all enjoy the ride our favorite trash panda is about to take us on! Gird your loins and your panties, babies!

Ukiyo - living in the moment, detached from the things in life that bother us.

You feel like you're trapped in a surreal, fucked-up dream.

Memories from the night before flooding your mind as you gradually pull yourself back into consciousness. 

"It's nothing personal, Dollface, it's just business," the sleazy hot-shot producer whispers in your ear. His hands graze your lower back, and you force a smile amidst the swarm of paparazzi. "I'm not a miracle worker, baby. They want an Angelina, not a Jennifer. Casting America's sweetheart in an R-rated movie? It's a tough sell."

"I'm not exactly jailbait," you retort, turning toward the paparazzo bellowing your name, a practiced smile on your face. "I believe I'm ready to explore different roles-"

"Well, that 'no-nudity' clause is really messing you up, baby. Times are changing, and they want bold, daring, sexy actresses," he remarks, his tone oozing condescension. 

The producer's creepy breath tickles your ear, and his hands venture lower down your back. "I can help you with that," he whispers, and the suggestion feels like a toxic cloud hanging in the air, making your skin crawl.

You toss and turn in bed, gripping the silky sheets beneath you. The memory of his touch haunts your thoughts, leaving you uncomfortable and anxious. 

"Dieter Bravo," your publicist cautions with a smile, guiding you down the carpet, "is someone you want to avoid tonight, Doll. Save yourself the hassle, seriously."

You furrow your brow, glancing down the red carpet to where Dieter stands. His unruly curls frame his face as he grins widely for the photographers. It's as if he senses your gaze; suddenly, his eyes lock onto yours, eyebrows raised in surprise. A smirk plays on his lips, and he blows a kiss in your direction.

"He's nothing but trouble, I'm surprised they let him on the carpet after what happened last year," your publicist states matter-of-factly.

"Care to remind me?" you breathe, smiling at the cameras. "He seems like a riot."

Your publicist shoots you a look. "Well, I don't consider getting arrested for public intoxication, disorderly conduct, and lewd behavior as something amusing-"

"I don't know, seems like he would be a fun time," you muse, playfully pushing your breasts in Dieter's direction. "Maybe that's what my career needs – someone like Dieter Bravo corrupting America's Sweetheart." Dieter leers at the gesture, waggling his tongue and adjusting himself as he walks backward into the venue, a mischievous grin on his face. "... besides, he hasn't been shy about wanting to 'put his face in between my tits', maybe I should just let him have at it."

"Are you seriously considering tanking your career before it's even taken off?" your publicist groans, steering you into the venue and handing you a flute of champagne. "People like him are like a virus; he'll infect everything about you." He lets out a sigh. "I understand you want to break out of the girl-next-door mold, but getting involved with Dieter Bravo is not the answer."

You take a sip of your champagne as you continue to eye fuck Dieter from across the room. "I don't know, maybe it is."

You're suddenly gasping in pleasure as you're finally jolted awake, the feeling of someone's hot breath against your skin as you arch your back at the sudden intrusion. "Fuck-" you sigh, looking down at the mass of unruly curly hair in between your legs. Dieter licks and parts your folds as you lock eyes with his, a shit-eating grin on his face. You swear you hear an insistent ringing in your head.

"Dieter?" you moan, realizing that what you're hearing is your ringtone from across the hotel room that you don't remember being in. "What-"

"Shh, baby. Let your husband eat you for breakfast," he mumbles against your pussy, his teeth scraping at your clit. He grabs onto your breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple as he sticks his other finger into you, eating you out so thoroughly like a starved man. Your cellphone rings again and you're too overwhelmed to care, your head pounding from whatever you drank the night before.  

"Husband?" you ask confusedly as you feel yourself about to come. 

"That's right, Doll, fuck I feel you squeezing the shit out of my fingers, are you gonna come for your husband?" he pleads, and you realize that you're both stark naked and that you somehow ended up from LA to Las Vegas, getting eaten out by America's Bad Boy in a suite at the Cosmopolitan.  How in the fuck did we end up here? you ask yourself in a panic.  Why the fuck is Dieter Bravo calling himself my husband?!

You're on your fifth glass of whatever champagne the venue is serving when you suddenly feel someone's hot breath against your ear. "I can't help but notice that you've been eye fucking me the entire night," Dieter groans, taking a seat next to you. "I guess my little ploy of trying to get your attention with that Wired interview worked out in my favor-"

"You know, there are more normal ways to get a girl's attention-"

"Ah, but you're America's Sweetheart, and your pitbull of a publicist won't let me near you, I had to let my-" he gazes at your cleavage, "intentions very clearly known."

"Well, I don't know if it's clearly known," you whisper. "I think you're just going to have to spell it out for me."

He smiles, leaning back in the seat as he spreads his legs, caging you in. "Do you want to have sex with me, Dollface?"

Your phone ringing a third time snaps you out of your reverie as you simultaneously chase your impending orgasm that your husband? is working so damn hard trying to get you there. "Fuck Dieter, I need-"

"What do you need, baby?" he pants, the sound of your slick as he licks at your folds aggressively, the loud squelching echoing throughout the room. "My wife has such a pretty little pussy, my fucking GOD," he praises, "Fuck, if this is heaven, I'm begging to see what hell has in store for me-"

It's obscene.

"Do you need my cock? Didn't get enough of it yesterday, huh?"

"My phone-"

"Fuck your phone," he dismisses as he starts to pump another finger into you, "Do you want your hubby's cock or not, baby?"

"Ye-"

Your legs are suddenly pulled to the edge of the bed, Dieter entering you in one fluid stroke. "Good enough answer for me." He pulls himself back, grabbing one of your legs and wrapping it around his waist as he thrusts aggressively back into you, his balls slapping your asscheeks as he begins to pound into you with a brutal pace. "Fuck, only took me being inside of you the whole night for you to take me in so fucking well-"

You chuckle as he accelerates out of the venue's parking garage in his PA's Mustang convertible, cackling like a madman as he maneuvers through the dwindling streets of LA. "Are you hungry, Dollface?" he yells, almost running a red light, his eyes fixed on the glowing In and Out sign in the distance.

"I shouldn't, I have that screen test next week-"

"Fuck the screen test!" he shouts. "The night is young, and you are gorgeous. Let Dieter take care of you, baby... while I still have you in my grasp. I ain't gonna waste a moment I have you in my orbit!"

He pulls into the In and Out parking lot, cutting the engine, and pulls you into his lap, his face immediately diving into the valley between your breasts. "You can suffocate me with these tits and I would die a happy man," he mumbles against your skin, his growl reverberating throughout your entire body like wildfire. "What do you say, Doll? Would you do me the honors?"

"Fuck Dieter," you moan, tipping your head back in pleasure as his tongue teases the edge of your dress covering your breasts. "Grab my tits," you beg, grabbing his hands for good measure.  

"Dieter! My Man!" someone shouts in the distance. "What the fuck are you doing here?!"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he yells back, "I'm about to fuck this beautiful woman in an In and Out parking lot, what are you doing here?"

"Fuck, can I take a pic, man?" the fan shouts as he approaches the convertible.  

Dieter is railing you into oblivion when there's suddenly a heavy knock on the door. Your phone is ringing off the hook, and you can't help but desperately whine as Dieter wraps his arms around your neck, pulling you into a kiss.  "Fuck, can't I fuck my wife in peace?!" he growls at the door, his pace quickening as he urges you to come on his cock. "I ain't answering the fucking door until you milk me dry, baby girl, you gonna come for me?"

"Fuck Dieter, don't fucking stop, please-" 

The knocking on the door echoes throughout the room as Dieter suddenly arches his back, squeezing your thighs harshly as he explodes deep into your pussy, his fingers finding your clit as he desperately rubs circles, begging you to come. He slaps it for good measure, the sharp sudden pain making you arch off the bed as you grab ahold of him, screaming into his neck as you're suddenly blinded by a feeling of absolute fucking bliss that no one has ever been able to pull from your wrecked, shaking body.

"That's the fucking spirit, Doll, give me every-"

"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!" you suddenly hear. "I KNOW YOU'RE FUCKING IN THERE!" 

Dieter pulls himself out in a huff, not bothering to cover himself as he storms over to the hotel room door, opening it harshly for good measure. "What do you FUCKING WANT-" he growls to the intruder, only to be met with the widening eyes of your publicist, his PA, and the Hotel Manager. Your publisher harshly pushes himself through the threshold, pushing Dieter to the wall as he makes his way to the bedroom, and you hurriedly cover yourself as he bursts through the door.

A phone is thrust into your face, the image of you and Dieter in front of the Graceland Wedding Chapel in the background as you hold your hand up for the camera, Dieter kissing your cheek as the diamond ring on your finger winks back at you. You lift your hand to your face, your eyes widening at the ring on your finger as your publicist glares at you, his chest heaving.  

"Do you want to tell me what the fuck happened last night?"

"So how do we fix this?" your publicist groans, the wrinkle between his brows more pronounced. "Maybe we can get this sham of a marriage annulled-"

"I have an idea," Dieter's PA chirps in, "What if we lean into this?"

"Absolutely not!" you find yourself shouting, your hands reaching for the bottle of painkillers on your coffee table. "I'm America's fucking sweetheart, the gossip rags are already having a field day about me getting my tits groped by America's bad boy at a fucking In and Out-"

"If I can recall, Dollface, you put my hands on said tits-" Dieter snarks, pushing his sunglasses down on his face, leaning into your chaise. "Must have done something right, hell, you were practically begging me to marry you, jumped on my lap the moment we got into the convertible-"

"Are you always this vulgar?" you bite back, taking a big gulp of water, some of the liquid spilling down your neck, onto the valley between your breasts. You notice Dieter gulp at the sight, his gaze resting heavily on your chest. He takes a tentative lick on his lips, a small smile forming on the corner of his mouth.

"Only for you, Mrs. Bravo." He winks, smirking.

"Stop that." You quip, crossing your arms around your chest.  

"Stop what, Dollface?" he asks coyly, spreading out on the lounge.  

"Looking at me like the cat that got the cream," you reply, refusing to meet what you imagine to be his smoldering gaze.  

"Well," he breathes, a Cheshire grin on his face. "I most certainly got you to cream, several times-"

"I would think the feelings mutual," you seethe through your teeth. "I mean, I did get you to come in your pants just by sucking on your-"

“You want to land meatier, sexier roles, right? Break free from the rom-com stereotype,” Dieter's PA nervously interjects, “… and you certainly don’t want to face blacklisting in Hollywood due to your recent escapades,” he shoots a meaningful look at his boss. “I believe this marriage might actually be a strategic move. It could help you break out of the girl-next-door image and simultaneously soften Dieter's playboy persona.”

Dieter contemplates this, crossing his legs on the chaise lounge as he glances into the living room of the hotel suite. He smirks at the sight of you with your arms crossed around your chest, recalling the moments when you were pliant in his arms just a few hours ago, begging and whining as he licked and sucked every inch of your delectable skin. His dick twitches at the memory, hungry to be inside of you once more.  

Dieter leans back, his fingers tapping on the armrest as he assesses the situation. “A calculated scandal to redefine my image and give her career a new direction? I suppose there's a certain allure to that.”

Your publicist interjects, “It's a risky move, but it could work. Public opinion is volatile. We need to control the narrative, give them a story that captivates and eventually redeems.”

Dieter smirks, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you. “So, America’s sweetheart and I play the happy couple, the media eats it up, and we both get what we want.”

You scoff, “This is insane. I’m not entering into a fake marriage for the sake of our careers.”

Dieter raises an eyebrow, "But what if it's not entirely fake?"

You glare at him, a mixture of disbelief and annoyance crossing your face. "What do you mean, not entirely fake?"

Dieter leans forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We can keep the public guessing. A little ambiguity goes a long way in the celebrity world. We'll play the part when we need to, but in private, we keep things... interesting."

Your publicist looks skeptical, "That could be a recipe for disaster. What if it backfires? What if the public starts hating both of you?"

Dieter smirks, "Let them talk. Controversy sells, my dear. As long as we control the narrative, we can turn this into a win-win situation."

You cross your arms, feeling a headache coming on. The idea of navigating a fake-real marriage with Dieter is the last thing you want. Yet, there's a strange spark of curiosity. What if this insane plan could actually work?

As you contemplate the proposal, the room is filled with tension, waiting for your response. Dieter raises a curious eyebrow at you, a small smirk playing on his lips as he places his hand on them. He sees you gulp heavily at that, your legs crossing tentatively as you try to play coy.  Ah, yes, sweetheart. I see you. I caught you in my web, and I'm going to consume every fucking inch-

You take a deep breath, considering the options laid out in front of you. The publicist watches you with a mix of concern and caution, awaiting your decision.

"I don't like it," you finally say, your tone firm. "But if it helps me keep my career and get the roles I want, I'll play along. Just remember, Dieter, if this blows up in our faces, it's on you."

Dieter grins, satisfied with your response. "Trust me, darling, this is going to be a wild ride. We'll be the talk of the town."

Your publicist rubs his temples, clearly not thrilled with the plan but realizing the potential benefits. "Fine, let's go with it. But we need a strategy, a narrative that controls the story. And we must be careful not to let things spiral out of control."

Dieter nods, already plotting the next move. "Leave it to me. We'll craft a story that keeps them guessing and wanting more. Our little secret, darling."

"... and there will need to be some ground rules," you say firmly, uncrossing your legs as you adjust yourself in front of Dieter, presenting the fact that you still haven't put on underwear under your dress. You smirk as he tries to adjust himself, the sight of his spend still leaking out of your pussy leaving him groaning. "If we are going to do this, you have to be in it for real which means... no fucking little Miss Suzy and embarrassing me. You're going to worship me in public, and make an honest wife out of me."

Dieter leans forward as he locks his darkened eyes at you, licking his lips in anticipation. "Oh baby, I'll show you how I'll make an honest wife of you, several times... maybe as soon as all the suits leave-"

"You love this, don't you?" you breathe, toying with the hem of your top, exposing your lace bralette in his direction. "Thinking you have me all riled up, thinking I'll beg for you-"

"Guys-" Dieter's PA attempts to diffuse the tension in the room, looking nervously at your publicist for backup. "Just think about it, okay? I'll have your lawyers draft up a contract for the both of you to look over."

"Why don't you all just get the fuck out and let me fuck my wife in peace?" he retorts, pulling his robe off for good measure, not a care in the world as his dick stands proudly erect. "You're wasting good light, and I intend to fuck her on every surface of this goddamn suite-"

"Lovely," you sigh into the couch, groaning as you pinch the space in between your eyes. "You're a real class act, you know that?"

"Well, I'll just-" His PA stutters, grabbing his messenger bag. "Let's leave them alone, call us when you get back to LA," he murmurs, motioning for your Publicist to follow him.  

"We're not done with this conversation, Dollface," he chides, slinging his bag on his shoulder. "I expect to see you on Monday for the screen test?"

"Yes, yes, I'll be there," you dismiss him with a wave. "I'm sorry, for all of this," you say softly, refusing to look him in the eyes.  

"Not as sorry as you're going to feel once you see the headlines," he warns. "Brace yourself, Dollface. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Taglist: @yxtkiwiyxt @skysmiller @picketniffler @readingiskeepingmegoing @islacharlotte @drewharrisonwriter

[totaldrama-showdowns]

FAVORITE RIVALRY SHOWDOWN FINALE

Propaganda

Heather v Leshawna: The og

Do i need to say it

Arguably the og td rivalry and what a rivalry it is

literally the start of it all. the rivalry of all rivalries even.

the girls are fighting!!!!! they coulda been bffs

NO DUH... it's the first biggest rivalry of our beloved TV show so of COURSEEE i am going to submit them!! look at them insulting each other, pushing each other off cliffs, beating each other up, gazing into each other's eyes, longing to feel the other's lips with her own- oh i said too much. anyways VOTE LESHEATHER BEST RIVALRY 2024

Her throwing Heather off the cliff is iconic

LESHEATHER SWEEP FIRE EMOJI TIMES THREE

gay as fuck to constantly fight someone and then give them your wig as a parting gift

They genuinely had one of the best rivalries in Gen 1. In Action when they came to an agreement was good as well! (THEY SHOULD HAVE STAYED ALLIANCE MEMBERS AT THE VERY LEAST)

Unfortunately tdwt forgot that these two sort of became friends in tda

IDK they are just the more iconic.

This is so iconic honestly!! ONE of the better rivals. (Glad they got along during Action though..)

They’re just so awesome. Two absolute powerhouse queens pitted against each other OMGG dude I love them. Leshawna giving Heather a beta version of her hair loss and so many other moments they had so much beef in all of the main gen1 seasons!! Also the sheer tension idk man maybe (definitely) they should kiss

Jo v Brick: Do I even need to explain? Jo and Brick are the best rivalry in the whole series. Unstopable duo

He ran backwards with earplugs just to one up her U_U

See the exchange from the beginning of Episode 2

The Best part of RotI

They're so funny together oml. Wish they had even more time together as frenemies

what does propaganda mean

that whole scene when they’re arguing about who had the better run changed my brain chemistry

When even the official compliation of Jo vs Lightning moments just gives us more Jo vs Brick ones...

The roti rivalry

They were super funny in roti and I love them with all of my heart

save me jock

JOCK!!!!! JOCK NATION RISE UP 🙌

[chunksworld]

Behind Closed Doors

IVE Yujin x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut) | fuckbuddy!Yujin

A/N 1: I am down astronomically bad for her. Thank you @kaedespicelatte as always for beta reading this piece.

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

“Come on, let’s go out tonight! Drinks are on me.”

You should’ve turned her down then, when all she had in her system was a glass of champagne from the after party, when she still isn’t as possessive as she is right now—arms wrapped tightly around yours as she tries, and fails, to make her way back to the dorms. You should have remembered just how much of a lightweight Ahn Yujin is, and how it could spell trouble for you for the rest of this lovely night. Another rookie of the year award bagged, another round of partying, and another night spent with her. It truly is the most wonderful time of the year.

“Hmm you look good today.”

Even just a drop of alcohol turns her into the most dangerous woman on the planet—and with the dress she’s wearing that hugs her curves tightly, it takes every ounce of self-control not to make any moves that could jeopardize your friendship with her. Not even when she presents those inviting lips that makes you just want to drag her to a narrow alley and fuck her senseless. Not even when that intoxicating scent of hers makes her even more alluring than she already is. 

Are you even just friends? The countless sexual encounters with her proves otherwise—from quickies in the practice room to full-on sexual escapades in her bedroom, you two have done it all.

A partnership forged by her desire to alleviate the stress that comes with being the leader of the most popular group in the nation has led to quite an interesting relationship with her, a relationship that you didn’t even think would exist.

“Y-Yah why are we walking so slowly!” 

In fear of being recognized, you opted to walk her home instead of taking a cab; which might have been a bad idea considering her dorm is two miles away and carrying an albeit light woman who is constantly trying to grind up on you is not exactly what you need—maybe you should have just accepted Wonyoung’s assistance. And considering that you’re just as shitfaced at this very moment, your fuse is infinitesimally small. “Can you just stay still, Yujinnie?”

There’s no use arguing when she’s breathing down your neck, sending chills down your spine as you attempt to give her a piggyback ride. You grab onto her thighs as she wraps her arms around your neck  and the moan she releases into your ears is only urging you throw all decorum away—not that you had any in the first place. If everyone just knew how much she bends to your will during every encounter, if only they knew just how lucky you are to have such an experience with her.

Sensing your distress, she laughs; a sultry laugh that only makes it that much harder to maintain composure. God, she really knows how to manipulate you. “Ohhh looks like someone is angry.” Then you feel her lips hovering near your ears; those damn, tempting lips. “Had a little bit too much to drink tonight, sweetie?” Look who’s talking. You shiver as you feel her softly nibble on your earlobe, wandering hands exploring your body as she tightens her hold around you. It’s a battle of who can keep their cool the longest and she’s clearly on the winning side.

“Can’t wait for you to fuck me hard once when we get back.” Maybe it’s the fact that this whole friends-with-benefits ordeal with her has been going on for a year now, but she sure knows how to push your buttons. But you’re not exactly doing anything to stop her, in fact you love it. Who else can say that they get to have sex with Ahn Yujin regularly? “I know I’ll definitely be screaming for that cock of yours.”

“Yujin…..”

She dismisses your words like the wind, a hand slowly creeping down towards your pants. How pathetic, you already have a bulge and you haven’t even fucked her yet. “What position are we gonna try this time? Missionary? That’s boring. Doggy style? That’s too basic. Maybe you eat my pussy while I suck your dick, hmm?”

You almost stumble forward but you fortunately save yourself in time before you end up faceplanting on the sidewalk. The imagery Yujin places inside your brain is enough to cause it to go haywire. But you must remain firm, any advantage given to her will only boost her already inflated ego. “Just shut the fuck up, will you?”

“The only way that happens is if you stuff my mouth full of that dick. Look how hard you are for me.” She doesn’t stop fondling your clothed length, as if the fact that other people can clearly see the sinful things she’s doing urges her even more. “I can already imagine it hitting the back of my throat. Or hitting my cervix while you pound me from behind.” A groan as she gives your clothed bulge a squeeze. “God, you’re so big.”

You grit your teeth, knowing that any words that come out of your mouth will encourage her even more. But your silence doesn’t stop her, continuing to whisper the dirtiest things right into your ear as you make the treacherous walk back to the dorms. Nothing she did made the trip easy nor the fact that you became more and more drunk as time passed by—almost falling to the side multiple times as she just laughed at you. Are you really going to endure such things just to get in her pants?

The obvious answer is yes. Otherwise you would have just called a cab like you should’ve and dropped her off before making your way home. But instead here you are, struggling to press the combination to her dorms as she somehow made herself heavier. Your legs are aching and trembling, your dick has been painfully trapped inside your pants for the past hour; at this point you’d want nothing but to vent out your frustration.

Forget the fact that all of the other members are deep in their slumber, crash your lips into hers as soon as the door is shut. The taste of whatever alcoholic concoction she consumed lingers on her lips, those plump lips that have been teasing you for the past few hours. Thankfully you’ve memorized the outline of her dorm to be able to maneuver the two of you to her bedroom in complete darkness—though not without bumping into some furniture in the way.

Thank goodness Yujin’s bedroom walls are soundproof because she releases a moan so loudly that the other members definitely would’ve heard by now. But it’s not like the two of you would’ve cared anyways—she’ll loudly proclaim to anyone how good you fuck her. She pulls you immediately into another kiss as soon as you enter the room, this time it’s filled with even more passion and lust. Fuck, you can’t get enough of her and tonight, you’re going to have your fill of her. And based on the look on her eyes, she’s dying to do the same.

She grabs onto the collars of your dress shirt while your hands fumble with the zipper on the back of her dress, trying your hardest to focus on the task while she moves down to your neck and proceeds to leave kisses there. “Shit, we’re gonna have such a good time tonight.” You’re definitely sure that she left hickeys that will definitely have to be covered by tomorrow but you don’t care at the moment. Not when you’ve finally undressed her, leaving her in black lingerie as the flimsy dress pools at her feet. Your eyes immediately scan her body, from her plentiful cleavage; her toned abs; her thick thighs; and her ridiculously long legs that you just want wrapped around your body.

A knowing smile from her as she can see your yearning eyes scanning her perfectly sculpted body—she’s got you right where she wants you to be. She knows that it only takes one little thing to piss you off and for you to end up right here inside her bedroom once again. “My eyes are up here, oppa.” But you are far in too deep, her intense aura captivating you to no end and with nowhere else to go. 

A devilish smirk from Yujin, then a lip bite as she works on unbuttoning your dress shirt while you work on taking off the rest of your clothing—soon you are only left in your boxers but before she could take it off, you push her onto the bed. With how much teasing she’s done to you tonight, it’s time for you to get a little revenge. And perhaps, a taste of her.

You urge her to move further up the bed before diving in towards those lips again. This time swirling your tongue around hers as you give her clothed breasts a gentle squeeze. Whimpers and moans vibrate in your mouth as you move your hands further down from her tight stomach down to her heavenly thighs. Eventually, you have to pull away from the kiss to recover your breath. “I’ve had it enough with you. I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t walk.”

“Good, then you’re gonna have to explain to Gaeul unnie and the rest of the girls why I’ll be stuck in my room all day. How’s that?” She cups your length through your boxers and it makes you jump. Then that moment of vulnerability allows her to pull down your boxers and you shiver as cold air meets your fully erect cock, precum already dripping out. “I don’t think either one of us wants that to happen. Right, oppa?”

She leaves you speechless. Either because she looks absolutely stunning under the warm lights of her bedroom or the fact that the alcohol has completely taken over your system. But as she slowly wraps her dainty fingers around your cock, the only thing you can do is groan in pleasure. You need her more than anything else, an addiction that you’ll gladly suffer from for the rest of your life.

“Y-Yujin, shit…”

“Hmm, what was that? I can’t hear what you’re saying.” Then she begins to stroke your length at a delicately slow pace, causing you to fall back on the bed and for her to be the one on top now. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The sensory overload she provides leaves you breathless and scrambling. “You’re gonna have to speak louder, oppa.”

As if to punish you, she begins to stroke you faster, even spitting on your cock to lubricate her hand. But it’s hard to focus on anything other than just how stunning she looks in her bra and panties—even more so without them. A body seemingly sculpted by the gods and only yours to see. Fuck, you can’t wait to explore more of her.

Just the thought makes your cock throb in her hand and she could feel it, making her stroke you even faster. “Yujin, please!”

“Please what?” She then begins to move her face towards your length and the angle allows you to get a glimpse of her breasts and it’s causing your brain to go haywire even further. “You’ve gotta tell me what you want, oppa.”

And as much as you hate giving in to what she wants, you have no choice but to swallow your pride and oblige. It’s not like this was going to end any other way. You take a deep breath before giving her a pleading look. How truly pathetic. “Just suck my cock, please.”

Then she flashes that signature, bright smile of hers and for a split second you see the idol side of her. Though that mirage only last for a fleeting moment as you are quickly reminded of how much she changes during sex. “Good. I’ve been wanting to taste this dick the entire night. How could you make me wait, hmm?” She strokes your length for a few more times before hastily taking your cock inside her mouth. No time to get used to it, this isn’t her first rodeo and neither is it yours. Lean your head back in pleasure as uncontrolled moans and groans escape your mouth.

Yujin’s trained gag reflex along with the added lubrication allows her to take you all the way in easily, switching back and forth between sucking you off and jerking you off. Sometimes she would swipe her tongue on your slit, licking all of the precum coming out of you. Or sometimes she would fondle your balls as the lewd sound of her going to town on your dick reverberates throughout her room. Can the other members not really hear anything?

She pauses to wipe the drool coming out of the sides of her mouth and the sight of her ravaging your cock turns you on even more. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you? You better return the favor later, oppa.”

You’re supposed to be the one taking over and yet you melt into putty under her expert touch, the combination of her hands and mouth working their magic on your cock only serves to grow the familiar tension building up in your stomach. The events of this night are causing you to last much shorter than usual but you don’t mind, you want to stuff that mouth of hers full of cum. 

“Of course, I-I am.” You pant, finding it hard to even speak. “I wanna paint that pretty face of yours, Yujinnie.”

Apparently that’s not the right answer because a disappointed look spreads across her face as she stops pleasuring you. “Listen, I didn’t make you come all the way here just to have that huge load wasted on my face okay?” Is she pouting? “I need your cum to fill my pussy, breed me.” In a flash, she strips herself off of her undergarments—now she’s completely naked like you are.

As expected, she’s already wet—her juices dripping down her lovely thighs as she sits back on her bed and spreads her legs wide. She licks her fingers before using them to spread her lips wide open, showing you just how ready she is to be stuffed full of your dick. “Come on now, oppa. I’m all yours.” Yujin winks, then another lip bite as she presents herself to you.

That only sends more blood rushing towards your blue-balled cock. “Fucking hell, Yujinnie.” You immediately follow her towards the top of the bed and crash your lips with hers once again. No more foreplay, no more games. You insert your cock inside her awaiting pussy and the familiar warmth invites you to start pounding her and breed her like she begged you to.

“A-Ah wait!” Yujin then wraps her toned legs around you as you vent out all of your frustrations on her, fingers leaving scratches all over your shoulders and back as she holds on to you for dear life while you piston your hips at an unrelenting pace. 

You then bury your face on the crook of her neck as you roughly knead her breasts, continuing to stuff her full of your cock. “You like that, huh? Is this what you wanted?” For the first time tonight she’s the one rendered speechless, only giving you a curt nod as her guttural moans go straight into your ears. But you’re not exactly giving her the opportunity to talk, your thrusts only becoming more hurried and desperate as you trail your lips down to her left nipple and begin to suck on it harshly.

“Shit! Shit! Keep sucking on my tits please….”

You can feel her walls tighten around you as a response, such a simple action leading her that much closer to her orgasm. Her desperate cries of pleasure only increase in volume as you switch your target to her right nipple, sucking on it just as harshly while your fingers sneak in between where your crotches meet to rub on her clit. Meanwhile her own fingers are either clutching the bedsheets tightly or leaving more scratch marks all over your back, the continuous loud moaning of your name is the only sound that can be heard aside from the lewd sound of your cock giving her the pounding that she wanted. “That’s right, shout my name. Let everyone know just how much Ahn Yujin likes this dick deep inside her pussy.”

And as if it’s only the two of you in the dorms, she does exactly that. After a particularly hard thrust, she arches her back off the bed, her saliva-drenched breasts pressing against your chest as she experiences a strong orgasm. She squirts so violently that it forces your length out of her pussy, leaving her inner thighs a drenched mess very much like her silk bedsheets underneath. At this point, you two are both soaking in sweat but that just makes Yujin look even more ethereal. Her tanned skin glowing beautifully as you give her a passionate kiss while she comes down from her orgasm. 

“Fuck–” Yujin pants heavily, laughing at the mess she made. “You never fail to make me cum hard. You should stick around more.” She wipes the excess drool on her lips with the back of her hand, taking a couple more deep breaths as she slowly calms down from her high. You brush loose strands of her hair aside, diving in once again to capture those lips as your other arm rests on the mattress to make sure not to crush her with your weight.

After the brief makeout session, she then lightly pushes herself off of you and returns to her original position twenty minutes ago: legs spread wide open as she sits near the top of her bed—this time she looks more messy with her disheveled hair, bruised lips, and her pussy still dripping with her juices. 

“Now it’s your turn to cum, oppa. Take me how you want.”

That is all that you needed to hear from her as you gave her a quick kiss before grabbing her by  the waist and flipping her over on her stomach, causing her to squeal. Take this moment to appreciate her curves, her wide hips, that ass that never fails to make you hard when you watch her perform. And to think that this is only for you to see still blows your mind to this day.

“What are you waiting for? Fuck me already!”

Right. It’s time for you to fill her up and considering how intense this night has gotten, it will certainly not take you long to reach your own climactic end. You proceed to grab her wide hips with one hand while guiding your cock–still drenched with her juices–inside her waiting pussy. Soon, she’s moaning your name again as you quickly settle into a nice and steady pace. Her buttcheeks jiggling with every thrust is a sight that you will never get tired of. But there’s no better feeling than having her tight body pressed against yours so you grab onto her shoulders with one hand to pull her in an upright position, using your other free hand to fondle her breasts as you resume your pounding.

The lewd position allows you to leave kisses on her neck as she reaches behind her to wrap an arm around you. Her alluring scent only drives you crazy as you continue to slam yourself into her pussy, her orgasm making it easy for your length to slide in and out. It didn’t take that long for you to near your end, to explode into a supernova of pleasure that can only be provided by the woman writhing underneath—you could only handle so much pleasure and you received plenty of it tonight.

“Shit! I’m so fucking close, Yujinnie.” 

Hearing this, Yujin begins to bounce on your length with authority—her buttcheeks continuing to jiggle as the air in the room begins to grow hotter. “Fill me please! I want that thick cum inside me.” She then pulls you in for another deep, passionate kiss while she works hard to help you with your impending orgasm. “I want it flowing out of my pussy, I want it dripping down my thighs—”

“FUCK!”

It only takes her dirty words for you to reach your peak, vision going white as you begin to shoot ribbons upon ribbons of thick semen inside her tight, velvety walls—seemingly trying to milk your balls out of all the cum it has. Your cock throbs violently as you fill her to the brim much like she begged you to. You can’t count how many shots of semen you’ve left inside her but you know it’s enough as it immediately begins to drip out of her freshly fucked pussy the moment you pull out. You crash beside her right on the bed and you think that your night ends here but Yujin seems to have an infinite reserve of energy as she stands up from the bed just mere minutes later, your heavy load staining her thick thighs beautifully. She takes this moment to fix her hair once again for a few moments before reaching a hand out to you:

“Round three in the shower?”

[ladamedusoif]

El Mar (The Sea)

Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader - Part of the Summer Lovin' 24 Fic Event

Prompt: By The Sea #1

Word count: 6.4k (this got out of hand)

Content Notes and Warnings: Explicit; 18+ MDNI; set after the events of TUWOMT; we can assume things just didn’t work out with Gabriela because in this house we love her; no physical description of Reader beyond her clothes; references to implied infidelity (not involving Javi or Reader); references to alcohol consumption; Reader understands at least some Spanish; Reader can swim; likely errors about yachts and how they work because I have never been on one; some angst but so much softness; friends to lovers; oral sex (f receiving); mutual masturbation; safe PiV sex; did I mention the softness

A/N: For @pedgito, @amanitacowboy, and @chaotic-mystery's wonderful Summer Lovin’ fic challenge event, with love and SO MANY apologies for how goddamned late this is. (This is what happens when you are an overthinker and a perfectionist).

And huge love and thanks to @doscharolastras for being such a supportive beta for this, and for everything.

(header by @pedgito and divider by @cafekitsune)

“You’re a great guy, Javi, truly.” Etta hastily rolls up a couple of her light slip dresses and pushes them into her Longchamp weekend bag. “But it’s over. I hope you find someone who’ll make you happy, who’ll love what you love, who’ll love you for you. I mean that.”

Her eyes scan the room for any belongings she might have left behind, but purposefully avoid the perplexed face of her boyfriend of almost a year. Javi Gutierrez is still struggling to make sense of it all. One minute he was kissing Etta on the cheek, leaving her on a sunlounger by the hotel pool while he went for a stroll along the Croisette, keen to soak up the atmosphere of the Cannes Film Festival. The next, he was standing in their comfortable hotel suite, watching his girlfriend packing her bags.

”Etta, amor, please wait. Please. We…we are going on the yacht tomorrow, remember? A week on the Mediterranean, just you and me.” He wrings his hands, helpless. “Maybe it is just what we need, no? Time together, time to see how we can save what we have.” Javi’s dark brown eyes sparkle with a mixture of hope and heartbreak. 

She exhales and zips her bag, slipping it over the handle of her large suitcase. “Is this even worth saving, Javi? Seriously?”

Javi, blindsided, is lost for words. All he can do is repeat her name, over and over, pleading, disbelieving, as Etta gives him a chaste little kiss on the cheek and leaves the room.

Later, lying on the bed in the dark, staring at the ceiling, Javi realises that in all her hasty explanations and excuses, she never once looked him in the eye.

You smiled when you opened the file with details of the client for the next week. Javi Gutierrez was a regular, usually hiring a yacht at least once a summer for a week or two of sailing around the Med. You took a certain satisfaction in the fact that he always requested that you be his chief stew (short for chief steward; in non-yacht speak, the person responsible for managing everything from dinners to room requests to on-board entertainment). 

He told you why, once. “You are…what is the term? Unbothered? It does not matter who is on the yacht, how famous or not, you are wonderful to everyone.”

You chuckled. “People are people. My job is to make sure you all have a perfect holiday.”

You suspected that Javi was thinking of the time when, on his first trip, you had somehow managed to transform a stateroom into a dojo at very short notice - and had not batted an eyelid when it became clear that it was a special request for Nicolas Cage. 

You knew you were nursing a little crush on him, there was no doubt. But that’s all it was - a little crush, harmless, inconsequential. After all, anyone would end up with a little crush on Javi Gutierrez if they met him. 

This year, Javi had hired a yacht and plotted an itinerary that would pick him up in Cannes, after the film festival, and travel across the Mediterranean to its final destination: his home in Majorca, docking in Palma. The reservation was for two guests. You arched an eyebrow, swiping down to the section of the form marked “Special Requests”.

”Mr Gutierrez and his guest (Etta Balbay, actor, model) will be celebrating their first anniversary as a couple on this trip. Please arrange for flowers and champagne in the stateroom, and intimate meals and atmosphere.”

Javi generally kept the details of his personal life close to his chest, though you knew that it had been a while since he’d had a serious relationship. You smiled as you opened up your go-to contact list for florists in Cannes, heart gladdened that this kind, funny man had finally found someone to love.

***

Javi can’t remember how long he’s been lying on the bed, fully clothed. He must have slept for a while, he thinks - the light creeping through the drapes is bright and fresh, suggesting early morning. He reaches for his phone. Seven AM. 

He had tried calling Etta a few times in the hours after she left, but the calls went unanswered. Eventually, he got a voice note from her.

“Javi, sweetheart, I think it’s best for both of us if we just do no contact for a while. I’ll make arrangements with your people to get my things from your place in LA.”

He listens to it again and flops back onto the bed. 

He’s woken the next time by the hotel room phone, ringing furiously. He looks at his wristwatch, this time. 

Eight thirty. 

“Hola, hello?” Javi’s voice is heavy and groggy.

“Javi?” Pablo, his assistant, sounds frantic on the other end of the line. “I’ve been trying to reach you! Did you two forget about the early departure?”

Javi rubs his face and runs his fingers through his curls. “Early departure?”

“The yacht, Javi. You’d arranged to leave at eight, remember?”

The fucking yacht. He’d completely forgotten. 

Pablo’s impatience hangs in the air. “What do you want me to do, Javi? I’m at the marina now, they called me when you didn’t show up.”

Javi would really rather curl up under his duvet and sleep for a thousand years. But he also really wants to go home. And maybe a week at sea will clear his head.

“Uh, tell them I am very sorry, I overslept… I will be there in half an hour, okay?”

Pablo sighs. “Sure.”

In Javi’s frantic state, he neglects to tell Pablo he is travelling solo. And his frazzled assistant doesn’t notice that his boss has used first person singular “I”, not “we”.

At the marina, Pablo exhales and slips his phone in his pocket. “He’s really sorry, he overslept, but he’s en route. That okay with you guys?”

You nod. “I’ll let the captain know, as he might want to replot the course depending on weather, but that’ll be fine. Mr Gutierrez knows where we are?”

Pablo sighs, again, and whips out his phone, tapping rapidly. “He does now.”

***

You smile and straighten your blouse when you see the black car pulling up at the end of the jetty, waiting for the familiar figure to emerge. Javi, typically, insists on helping the driver with his luggage as he makes his way to the boat. 

“Mr. Gutierrez, welcome back! A pleasure to host you, as always, and I’m looking forward to meeting Ms Balbay, of course…” You scan the jetty, wondering where Javi’s guest is. 

Javi’s face falls and he takes off his wayfarer sunglasses. “I am afraid that Etta…Ms Balbay will not be joining me on this trip, after all. We are no longer together.”

His eyes, usually so bright and warm, are filled with sadness. He looks exhausted. 

“Oh, well… that’s absolutely fine, Mr Gutierrez. Let me take your bag, please.” You turn on your best, brightest smile. Professional, always, to the last. 

He offers a slight smile in reply and follows you on board the yacht. “If you do not mind, please call me Javi? I know you like to be professional, but…we know each other so well now, no?”

You gesture towards the main living area and Javi enters, taking a seat on one of the large, comfortable couches built into the room. 

“Of course, Mr Gut- I mean, of course, Javi. I’ll bring this to your stateroom - would you like some refreshments? Coffee, maybe?”

He nods, slowly, and you head towards the staterooms, making a mental note to tell the on-board chef that he would be cooking for one, not two, and that -

Oh, shit. 

The stateroom has, per Javi’s original request, been decorated with a beautiful, tasteful floral arrangement. You had freshly opened a bottle of Perrier-Jouet champagne just prior to Javi’s scheduled arrival time, and it stands in an ice bucket alongside two vintage champagne coupes. And in front, an elegant, hand-written card wishes the now-defunct couple a happy anniversary. 

Shit. At least you’d got here first. Swiftly, you move to remove any trace of the special additions before he sees them, hoping to spare his feelings. Frantically, you search for the champagne cork - a futile exercise, seeing as you’d never manage to squish it back into the neck of the bottle, but you keep trying to find it.

”If I could at least save this…”, you mutter to yourself, holding the dark green bottle as your eyes scan the stateroom.

”Is it even worth saving?”

Javi stands just inside the door, a sad half-smile on his face. 

“Oh, Javi, I’m sorry, I was just -“

He shakes his head, his curls noticeably mussed and unattended to this morning. “Please, no apologies necessary. You were not to know. But thank you for thinking to tidy…this away.” He points at the champagne. “Please. You take it.”

He won’t hear your protestations, your insistence that you cannot drink on duty and won’t have enough time to enjoy the vintage champagne either way. When he finally accepts the bottle, he has one condition.

”You must come and have a glass with me on the deck this evening. Please? We can talk about the festival. You like film, don’t you?”

“Like” was an understatement. You adore cinema. And, as you nod your head, you think to yourself how nice it was that Javi remembered your passion for it. 

“Well…okay. But one glass and one glass only for me. I have a ship to run, after all. And now, Javi, I’ll leave you to get unpacked while I check with chef about lunch.”

Javi offers a sweet, semi-formal little bow as you leave the room.

***

You held fast to your limit of one glass of champagne. Javi did not. 

As he retired to the stateroom that night, a little the worse for wear, he thought about Etta, about whether there had been signs that something was wrong, whether he had misread the extent of her commitment to him. 

She had seemed…different, the last few months. Nothing major, just - a little distant. She put it down to work, juggling some minor acting gigs with modelling, and with the strain of spending most of her time many thousands of miles from Javi. That’s why he’d invited her to Cannes, planned the yacht trip. Time together, away from the demands of their careers. 

He’s haunted by her words, her wish that he would find someone who “loved you for you.” What did that mean?

He’d started to speak to you about her, sitting in comfortable seats on the deck as the sun set, his tongue loosened by the champagne. You were typically comforting, kindly suggesting that maybe Etta might just need space, that this might not be the end. 

It would be tempting to believe that, Javi muses, as he brushes his teeth. He spits out his toothpaste and reaches for the mouthwash, studying his features in the bathroom mirror. He searches his eyes, as if seeking some hint that hope was an option, that something could be salvaged from the wreckage.

Try as Javi might, he saw only exhaustion. Deep down, even if he didn’t want to admit it to himself, he knew that Etta was never coming back.

***

After a couple of days at sea, Javi seemed a little brighter. He read, he sunbathed, he wandered amiably around the yacht chatting to you and the other two members of the tiny crew: Tony, the taciturn chef who was desperately homesick for his wife and new baby and spent every free moment on video calls with them; Andres, the ship’s engineer; and Vico, the captain. He asks you, shyly, if you would mind sharing lunch and dinner with him. 

“For company,” he explains. “And you are such good company.” 

Technically, you probably shouldn’t do it. But he’s on his own, and his girlfriend has left him, and so you take your main meals together each day. You talk about cinema, about travel; you tell him about the history of some of the places you can see from the deck of the yacht; he thanks you every time for being so kind and generous with your time.

”All part of the service,” you say. But in truth, he’s very good company too.

You see him deep in conversation with Vico one morning, over a simple breakfast of tostadas with sliced tomato and olive oil. He beams when he sees you approaching. A couple of days of sun and sea air has deepened his tan, brought his freckles to the fore, and picked out lighter strands in his hair. The loose blue linen shirt and white pants he’s wearing enhance his golden aura.

”We are going to make a little stop today, to swim,” he explains, glancing up at the bright sky. “It’s so beautiful, but oof, I need to cool down.” He mimes fanning himself, eyes rolling dramatically, and you laugh.

”Perfect. Let me know a likely time and I can reschedule lunch or dinner.”

As you walk back into the bowels of the yacht, you hear Javi calling you and turn to see him trying to catch up with you. 

“Everything okay?”

”Sí, sí.” He catches his breath and smiles that bright smile again. 

Yep, you still have a little crush on him.

”I was going to ask… would you like to join me? You have been working so hard, and it’s so hot, think of the cool water!”

He gestures with his broad hand towards the glittering blue of the Mediterranean, like a salesman making his pitch. 

It is tempting. You are somewhat used to the summers on the boat, but you still find your blouse damp and clinging to you by the end of the day, your body crying out for a cool shower. 

But he is a guest, and you are the chief stew.

”I’m not sure if I can, unfortunately - I am at work, after all…”

Javi looks crestfallen, dark eyes at their most puppyish. “Could it be a break? You break for lunch, no?”

Javi Gutierrez, you’re a hard man to say no to.

”Yes, I do, but…”

Those puppy eyes work their magic. A couple of hours later, you find yourself in the dark green swimsuit you had packed for this job, just in case it was needed, standing on the deck beside Javi. You realise, with a jolt, that you’ve been checking him out - though it’s hard not to. He’s still wearing his blue shirt, but a couple more buttons are undone now, exposing the breadth of his tanned chest. The white pants have been replaced by a pair of tight navy swim shorts that highlight his strong legs and leave very little to the imagination.

You avert your eyes and blame the heat in your face on the bright sun.

He peels off his shirt and you feel yourself heating up even more. “Ready?”

“Javi, you go first. I’m… I need to get up the courage.”

He raises his eyebrows and extends a hand towards you. It takes you a moment to realise he means for you to take it. 

“Come. We will jump together, sí?”

“If I drown, this is your fault.”

He laughs, then turns somber. “I will take care of you.” 

He means that. 

You grip Javi’s big, strong hand securely. 

“Okay. Uno, dos, tres…”

You shriek with joy as you leap into the unknown, Javi still holding your hand. The cool water of the Mediterranean shocks your system as the two of you are submerged, rapidly rising again to the surface. 

His smile is as bright and warm as the sun itself when he reappears from under the water, hair slicked back by the waves. Javi looks born to the sea, confidently treading water as you compose yourself. 

“Es bueno, sí?”

You nod, still working through the shock of the cooler water, and a huge smile creeps across your face. “It’s incredible. I didn’t realise how much I needed that.”

He laughs and lies back on the water, languidly kicking about to maintain his position, before turning smoothly round and starting to swim. Javi cuts through the water with ease, long arms and broad torso moving smoothly, sun glittering off the droplets that cover his shoulders. 

He dips down into the water in a seal-like dive, feet kicking above the surface before he reappears and grins in your direction. 

It is, you realise, the first moment on this trip that he has really seemed like himself.

***

He does not emerge after he goes to his stateroom to shower and change. When he doesn’t appear for dinner, you knock on his door.

”Javi? Dinner’s ready, if you are hungry?”

No reply.

”Javi?”

His voice comes through, low and sad. 

“I will take dinner in my room this evening, if that is okay.”

”Of course. I’ll prepare a tray.”

You eat with Tony and Vico that night, enjoying the tagine Tony has had simmering away for most of the day but wondering what, exactly, had served to put an end to Javi’s sunny mood. Was it you, too familiar, too comfortable with the guest? Had you unsettled him? 

The logical part of your brain would remind you that it was Javi who asked you to come swimming with him, who had sought your company throughout. But in your panicked state, you could only think that you had crossed some unseen line and upset him.

As you nestle into your little bunk that night, you spend a few minutes scrolling mindlessly on Instagram. A suggested post from a celebrity gossip page catches your eye. 

ETTA BALBAY AND JON MARCUSO: LOVE ON SET

Your stomach lurched as you swiped through the pictures. There was Etta Balbay, walking hand in hand in New York with her co-star on her most recent movie when she was supposed to have been here, on this yacht, with Javi. Her boyfriend.

”Oh, fuck.” 

***

The tagine was delicious, but Javi’s appetite was not up to much and his portion went largely untouched. He felt a little guilty, and made a mental note to apologise to Tony tomorrow.

He had been curled up in bed for most of the evening, ever since he’d checked his phone after the swimming pit stop and seen the pictures. Etta, looking very cosy with the lead guy from a film she’d had a minor role in. Etta, casually kissing that guy’s cheek in public, like she hadn’t just walked out on a relationship of almost a year. Etta, laughing a little too uproariously to be natural, hand resting on Jon Marcuso’s arm, in the middle of Manhattan.

”You are a fool, Javi Gutierrez.” He turns over and presses his face into the pillow, emitting a low, pained whine.

Another knock at the door. He swears under his breath and tries to decide whether to ignore it. He’d left his dinner tray at the door; you couldn’t possibly need anything else. 

There’s no second knock, just the sound of paper slipping under his stateroom door and soft footsteps receding. Javi allows a couple of minutes to pass before he climbs out of bed and gingerly picks up the note. He recognises your handwriting.

In case you wanted a late night snack. I have arranged with Tony for breakfast to be brought to your room at the usual time tomorrow. Good night, Javi.

He opens the door. A small, round tray sits on the plush carpet, bearing a small jug of tinto de verano, some cold cuts and slices of cheese, and a little plate of old-fashioned cookies. He shakes his head as he remembers a voyage a couple of years before, when he’d made up some of the beverage - a cooling mixture of Spanish red wine and cloudy lemonade - for his guests and the entire crew, you included.

He picks up the tray and carries it into his room, placing it on his bed and taking a deep draught of the summer wine. It feels like comfort itself, refreshing and sweet and kind. 

It was exactly what he needed. And you had remembered.

***

Javi reemerges just before lunch the next day, making a beeline for you as you oversee preparations with Tony. He gestures for you to join him outside on deck.

”I would like to apologise. For yesterday. And to thank you, of course. You… obviously worked out what was wrong.”

You swat away his apology and his thanks, reassuring him that it was all part of the service. “I did see the, um, photos from New York. I’m so sorry, Javi.”

He shrugs. “I feel like a fool. But at least I know for sure, now.”

”The only foolish one is her.” You clap your palm over your mouth, aware you might have gone too far. “Oh, I’m sorry, Javi, I shouldn’t have said that.”

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “It’s good to know someone thinks that highly of me. And that they remember how to make tinto de verano.” With a wink, he pops on his sunglasses and heads with his book in the direction of a deckchair.

***

”Need anything from the shops?”

On the morning of the penultimate day on board, Tony stands at the door to your tiny office, dressed in his street clothes and holding a couple of cotton tote bags. You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

”Shops?”

He nods. “Javi and me are going to take the motorboat and call into that little fishing village near the cove, get a few things for tonight’s barbecue. I keep telling him we’ve got supplies but he seems dead set on making stuff for us, as a thank you.” 

A final night barbecue on the beach was a typical feature of the itineraries offered by the company you worked for, the yacht dropping anchor near a quiet cove and guests ferried to the shore in the on-board motorboat. You usually stayed on the yacht for these events, helping to sort out the food and supplies but leaving the guests and their chef to enjoy the evening. 

Javi, however, wanted the party to be as much for the crew as for himself. As evening falls over the Mediterranean he stands commandingly over the grill set up on the white sands, his red and green-patterned shirt standing out against the blue of the sky and sea. He refuses to let Tony do any work, shooing him back to his deckchair with a cold beer whenever he threatens to help out. Instead, you act as his sous-chef, setting out large bowls of salad and platters of cheeses and slicing impossibly fresh, crusty bread. 

“They smell incredible, Javi.” 

He smiles proudly as he turns the enormous langoustines on the grill. “I wanted to cook for you all, as a thank you. You have been so kind to me this week.” He shifts his attention to the potatoes baking on the coals, then looks up at you, eyes soft. “But then, you are always so very kind to me, when we travel together.”

You take a sip of your mug of tinto de verano and hope it will cool the ardour burning in your face. “It’s easy when you are travelling with your favourite guest.”

Javi flushes a little and looks down at the grill. “I mean it. This week, especially… it has been just what I needed, and you…”

”EVERYONE SAY HI!”

The moment is interrupted by Tony, running in your direction with his phone in hand. His wife and tiny baby are visible on the screen, albeit somewhat pixelated. You and Javi wave enthusiastically as Tony holds the phone at arm’s length, attempting to get everyone in shot. Even Vico cracks a little smile as he takes a swig from his beer.

”I’ve never met anyone so homesick. Tony might need to rethink his career and stick to dry land.”

Javi lifts the fish from the grill and fills a large platter with the beautifully-charred food. “It must be wonderful to have someone to be so homesick for, no?”

***

It was a perfect night. The food, the drink, the company, the setting: all picture-perfect. Javi toasted the crew ten times over, Vico revealed a surprisingly strong singing voice as he performed mournful Sicilian melodies, and Tony began a makeshift disco with music blaring from his phone’s tinny speaker. Everyone danced together in turn, and you fell into Javi’s arms just as the song changed to Françoise Hardy’s “Le temps de l’amour”. 

On the ride back to the yacht, you wondered why, exactly, the world seemed to fall away when he spun you on the sand, pulled you to him in hold, swayed with you to the music, as if you were the only two people on earth. It’s just a crush, you reminded yourself. You’ve been together for a week, it’s natural to feel close. And he’s just had his heart broken.

Tony and Vico head to their bunks as soon as you get on board, keen to get a solid night in before the next day’s final stage to Palma. You walk with Javi down the narrow corridor that leads to your small cabin and his stateroom, talking companionably about the evening and joking about Tony’s dance moves, until you reach the door to your cabin.

”Well, this is me. Thank you, so much. It was magical. And you need to give me that recipe for the langoustines!”

He smiles that half smile, soft curls falling over his brow and eyes the colour of melted chocolate glittering in the low lighting. His voice is warm and low. “I meant what I said. I did not know how much I needed this time, how special you would make it for me.”

Before you can respond, Javi leans in and kisses you, soft and slow. A gasp of surprise catches in your throat but you cannot help but kiss him back, hands winding through his hair as he pulls you tight to him. He tastes of beer and wine and salt and sun, of the sea, of summer.

You moan as he pushes you against the wall, but force yourself to break the embrace. “Javi… I’m sorry. I can’t. We can’t, not with guests, not - oh god, I’m so sorry.”

He tries to disguise his hurt, but his eyes give him away. “No, no. It’s okay, I should not have done that.”

Yes, you should have. But you keep quiet.

You lean in and take his hand. “And maybe this is just a rebound thing, you know? You’ll probably wake tomorrow and be glad it stopped here, that you didn’t go any further with me.”

For a moment, Javi looks like he is about to speak. But he just nods and kisses you on the cheek, wishes you goodnight, and quietly enters his room.

***

The crew line up on the jetty in Palma the next day, ready to give Javi the traditional goodbye. He has changed into more formal attire, a light blue jacket and cream pants with a light coloured shirt, and his driver quickly carries his luggage to the waiting car as Javi embraces each of you in turn. He hands Tony a little Paddington Bear toy, a gift for the baby waiting for him at home.

You are the last in the lineup, and he kisses your cheeks before pulling you in for a slightly nervous hug. “I meant it,” he whispers in your ear. “Thank you.”

You watch with uncertain feelings as Javi waves a final goodbye. You make a quick return to your quarters to collect your things, call a cab, and get off the yacht. Two weeks of long-overdue leave lay ahead, and you would spend it in a tiny apartment near Palma’s cathedral, exploring the city and enjoying the nearby beaches. It would, you tell yourself as you wait for the taxi, clear your head: of Javi, of those sad, beautiful eyes, and of the memory of a perfect kiss that is replaying on a loop in your mind’s eye.

***

A voice calls your name, the sound cutting through the crowds meandering through the city’s narrow streets that sunny evening, about a week after you’d left the yacht. At first, you think you must be imagining it - until you turn and see Javi Gutierrez moving towards you through the crowds, somehow looking even more handsome than you remembered in his dark green suit. His eyes widen as he reaches you and takes you in, before kissing you on the cheek.

”Hermosa.” He almost breathes the word as he surveys your long sundress and espadrilles, newly purchased in Palma as a much-needed respite from your usual wardrobe. 

“You are too kind, Javi,” you respond, suddenly conscious of his gaze. “And you are looking rather guapo.”

He grins and nods shyly. “I have been having meetings in the city the last couple of days, staying at our little apartment here.” He gestures to the perfectly-cut suit. “So, I must dress to impress.”

You feel a smile creep across your face, an unconscious sign of how happy just being in his company makes you. 

Javi places a hand on your arm, gently. “Are you free? We could have a drink, perhaps - some food? Unless you do not want to, perhaps you have plans. No, you probably have plans, of course, what am I -“

“Javi? I would love to have a drink with you. Lead the way.”

***

Over some ice-cold glasses of local vermouth with orange slices, he regales you with stories about his future projects, seeking your thoughts and opinions on the various concepts and scripts he is working on. You talk about the city, about your plans for the rest of your time there, your next voyages.

He orders a second round, as well as a platter of cheese and olives, and you broach the subject. 

“So… how are you doing? After, well, everything.”

Javi pops a green olive in his mouth and chews thoughtfully before spitting out the stone discreetly. “I am okay, I think. Still shocked, perhaps, but a week at sea, then being alone the last few days… Well. It gave me time to reflect, to think about what I want.”

You sip your drink, not wanting to interrupt, and he continues.

”Perhaps I should have noticed that it was not going as well as I thought it was, that we were perhaps not as connected as I believed.” He shrugs. “She told me that she hoped I would find someone who ‘loved me for me’. It seems that she did not love me for me, no?”

His expression is so open, so genuine, that it makes your heart ache as you struggle to imagine how anyone could not love this man for who he was. 

“You deserve that, Javi,” you say quietly, emboldened by the vermouth. “And I don’t think there’s anyone in the world who couldn’t want you for who you are.”

He looks at you with a wry smile, eyes twinkling. “Except for Etta Balbay, of course.” 

You chuckle. “You’ve got me there.” 

He sips his drink before turning back to you, studying your features in silence before speaking a little hesitantly. “I have to tell you something. When I kissed you on the boat - it was not a ‘rebound’ thing, like you said. I…care too much about you for that.”

Your eyes widen as they meet his, warm and earnest. Fuck. He means it. 

Gingerly, you reach to tuck an errant strand of Javi’s honey-brown locks behind his ear, fingers gently caressing the side of his face as you test the waters. He smiles softly, leaning into your touch. 

“I care about you too, Javi. And not just because you’re my favourite guest.”

You lean in before you can second-guess yourself. His lips are as soft and enticing as you remember, the slight bristle of his moustache against your mouth making you sigh happily as you deepen the embrace. He cups your face in his hands as he kisses you, full of want and desire, right there on the café terrace. He leaves you panting when he breaks away, a confused look on his face.

“What about the rule? Not with guests?”

“I’m on holiday, and you’re not a guest now.” You smile knowingly, before leaning in for another kiss. “Would you…like to get out of here? My rented flat is five minutes away.”

He grins, and signals for the bill while you disappear to powder your nose.

***

You give in to a shared, surprisingly intense desire as soon as the door of the apartment closes behind you. Javi knows exactly how to handle you, guiding you against the wall of the tiny flat and kissing you deeply as he fumbles to undo the buttons on the front of your sundress while you tug off his jacket and unbutton his shirt. He pauses for a moment in the half-light to admire your breasts, cupped by the red lace of your bra, before bringing his mouth to your nipples, sucking each one in turn through the delicate fabric. He moans against you when you unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, slipping your hand inside his black boxer briefs to feel the stiff length of his cock.

“Good?”

He closes his eyes and sighs with pleasure. “Sí. So, so good. Keep going.”

He pulls down the fabric of the bra to expose your tits, grunting and muttering sweet nothings in a hybrid tongue of English and Spanish as he grinds against your palm. With your free hand you reach for his, guiding it under the skirt of your dress and to the apex of your thighs. You gaze into each other’s eyes as he roughly pulls down your panties and slips two thick fingers between your folds, fingertips expertly working your clit. 

“God, I want you, Javi.” You whine with pleasure as you ride his fingers, still stroking his cock. “Want you, want to fuck you so much.”

He groans with need and pulls you to the little bedroom, laying you down on the edge of the bed as he gets to his knees and drags off your red panties before tossing them behind him. His pinky ring glints against your thigh as he parts your legs and looks up at you, admiring your pussy as he prepares to worship. 

“I want you too - so much. Eres tan hermosa,” he murmurs, peppering the delicate skin of your inner thighs with kisses before he places his lips over your wet cunt. He has you bucking and moaning within seconds, sucking your clit over and over, working it with the perfect line of his nose, before slipping his tongue in and out of you until you come, loudly, against his face.

As you ride out your orgasm, you sit up a little and beckon him to you, opening your legs a little wider to accommodate his beautiful body. 

“C’mere, Javi.” You take one of the condoms you bought in the café bathroom out of your purse before pulling down his pants and boxers. It’s difficult not to exclaim in anticipation at the sight of him, so hard and ready for you. 

He’s already nudging against your entrance as you pull the rubber carefully over his cock and line him up to take you. The stretch is slow and intense as Javi pushes inside you, your walls already clenching around him. He squeezes his eyes as he adjusts to the feeling before he starts to rock against your hips.

“Feel good?” You wrap your arms around his broad back as he fucks you, wanting to feel every inch of him inside you. Javi pants and whines with pleasure.

“Incredible. So good, so tight for me.” He picks up the pace a little as he learns what you like and what you can take, hooking an arm under one of your thighs and pressing into the flesh as he fucks you ever deeper and ever harder. “You’re delicious, amor, so perfect - fuck!”

He grunts loudly when he sees you slip your hand between your warm bodies, massaging your swollen clit until you come again, clenching around him. When you open your eyes, he’s gazing down at you, handsome face full of pleasure and desire and a kind of wonder.

“Hi.” He slows the roll of his hips a little, taking you at a more languid pace, and leans in to kiss you. It’s soft and tender, a perfect accompaniment to the more heated passion that led you to the bed and a delicious sensation as you come down from your orgasm.

You savour the taste of yourself on his lips and smile at how utterly gorgeous this man is, hair mussed and falling forward, eyes warm and pussy-drunk and a little grin dancing around his full lips. God, he’s beautiful. 

“Hi, you.”

“Es bueno?”

“Mmmm, sí. So, so good, Javi.” With a gentle nudge of your thighs, you move together to shift positions, riding him slowly and steadily as his broad hands grip your thighs. You arch an eyebrow when he almost seems to giggle at one point, embarrassment immediately flushing over his face. You slow down and pause.

“What’s funny?”

He smiles and shakes his head, cheeks pink. “I - I don’t know. You are so beautiful, this is so good, I feel…”

You lean forward and kiss him, feeling his smile spread against your lips. “You feel…happy?”

He nods, unable to say anything more as you begin to fuck him again with a slow, deep roll of your hips and a huge smile on your face.

***

He wakes you with tender kisses after a night that involved very little sleep, beard bristling against the bare skin of your neck, your arms, your breasts. The smile that greets you as you blink awake is like your own personal ray of sunshine.

“I hope you don’t mind waking up to me in your bed.” 

You giggle. “Not in the least. I love waking up to you in my bed.”

He grins, rolls over, and spoons you, holding you to him with those strong, tanned arms. He nods to the little side table, where a tray with two cups of coffee sits, before nuzzling against your neck.

“Good! I love waking up in your bed too. And I made coffee.” He stops nuzzling for a moment. “I hope I remembered the way you like it.”

You wriggle over and turn to face him, tracing the outline of his features with the tip of your finger and kissing him gently. “I’m sure you did.”

He smiles. “I meant it yesterday, when I said I care about you. I think I have cared about you for a long time, but…I did not know if you cared about me.”

“I cared - I care - about you, Javi. More than I think I realised. Do you know now?”

Javi nods and kisses your forehead. “Sí.”

Further A/N: My choice of the late, legendary Francoise Hardy's "Le temps de l'amour" for Javi and Reader's dance on the beach was directly inspired by this scene from Wes Anderson's Moonrise Kingdom, which I just adore. Please enjoy, it's so sweet. (Pedro in an Anderson movie when?!)

[tragedybunny]

Absolution

༺Summary༻

Astarion and Serafina have an argument and Astarion does what he thinks is necessary to keep her with him. Set before his Act 2 confession.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav/OC)

༺Warnings༻ PiV sex, oral sex, all occurring while Astarion disassociates.

༺Word Count༻ 2441

༺A/N༻ Although most of my reader fics are based my Tav, Serafina, and my experience playing the game as her, this is the first fic I've written featuring her as a named character. And it's my first BG3 fic in 3rd person. I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks to @satanicspinosaurus for the wonderful beta.

The scene from earlier plays over and over in his mind. 

“You don't know anything about me, Astarion! So just leave it be.” Sera, sweet, kind, gentle, patient Serafina, had yelled at him. Not once since they'd met on that beach had their erstwhile leader even raised her voice slightly at him. And today she shouted at him. All because she couldn't read Elvish and he'd reacted with the same humor she’d claimed to enjoy. Turning it on him as though he’d been the one in the wrong. 

They'd been seated around the fire while Wyll took his turn “cooking”, going through some papers and books they'd found in the wake of a goblin attack. They were looking for any clues into the cult's movements or plans. Sera had plucked a small, neatly bound journal from the pile and turned it over in her hands. It was a thing clearly well-made and cared for. She'd opened it gently, respectful of the fine binding holding it all together. 

Her brilliant blue eyes had scanned a few pages before she gave out a frustrated sigh. “Elvish,” she muttered, snapping it shut violently and thrusting it at Astarion. “You'll probably have better luck with that.”

He wasn't sure why he did it. The half-elf’s reaction was disproportionate to simply encountering a foreign language, that was obvious. Maybe it was because he’d become too used to teasing her since they’d started their “relationship.” Their easy back and forth banter giving him the foreign feeling of acceptance. 

 Or maybe it was his own way of trying to deny those irritatingly tender feelings that had started to creep in whenever he caught her glancing his way or their hands touched, or she laughed at one of his jokes. The need to push back against them, sharpening his tongue and drawing out ancient bias. 

Whatever caused it, he should’ve thought before opening his mouth. “Can’t read Espruar? Someone got forgotten by one parent. Is that why you threw a tantrum and ran-”

“Shut up!” Sera leapt up from the log she’d been seated on and glared at him. “You don’t know anything about me, Astarion! So just leave it be.” 

With that, she’d stormed off and left him silently stunned, as though awaiting a reprisal that didn’t come. Around him, their companions pretended to look away and he caught a few whispers on the air. “What are you all looking at? It’s not my fault she suddenly can’t take a joke.” He’d sulked off to his own tent, waiting until her tantrum had passed and everyone forgot his misstep. He’d assumed Sera would cool down and come out for dinner, but instead she’d remained stubbornly locked away. Karlach had brought her a bowl of what they were generously calling stew. 

Everyone had eaten and retired for the evening and she was still pouting. Which brought him to now, slinking his way across camp toward her tent. He had to do something, he couldn't watch his hard won protection slip away. It absolutely had nothing to do with the fact that Sera gave him a little kiss and wished him goodnight every other night lately and it had been noticeably withheld tonight. 

The way the moonlight filtered through the trees, one solid beam pointing down on her tent, a poet might say that Selune was guiding him. Poets were idiots. Parting the flap just the smallest amount, he starts to slip inside, intent on waking her to settle things if he needed to, when a sound stopped him. A strangled cry, was it directed at him? He froze, half inside, the errant moonbeam that slipped around him haloing her with soft illumination. 

Another wordless cry. Only a nightmare, nothing to be concerned with. Stepping in, he lets the tent shut, plunging them both back into darkness. With a predator’s stealth, he approaches her bedroll, kneeling down, eyes subconsciously glancing at the healing puncture wounds on her neck. 

“Let me out.” Her sudden words startle him. 

Stumbling backwards, he nearly loses his balance to go sprawling across the floor. His skin suddenly heated, as though the breath that carried those words could burn him. 

Another sob comes as she thrashes around a bit. “Please, I won't run,” unintelligible sounds follow the small plea. “Let me out.” 

Locked up. She'd been locked up too. Regaining himself, he crept toward her again, as she shook and cried. Someone had hurt her. But who would want to do that?

She was Sera, unfailingly kind; who aided refugees, saved children, fought monsters, and foolishly fed manipulative vampires.  

The sobbing becomes frantic and without thinking he reaches out to gently grasp her shoulder. “Sera,” she struggles against his touch with a whimper. Growling in frustration, he shakes her a little more roughly. “Serafina!” 

Eyes snap open to behold him with wide pupils as her chest heaves. “A-Astarion?” Sitting quickly, she pulls away from him, and he feels a sudden sting in his chest. “What are you doing here?” She hisses, apparently still angry with him. 

“You were having a nightmare.” He replies, trying to soften his voice, to be the lover she had come to expect. 

“Hmm,” her eyes focus across the tent to an empty lantern, “fiat lux.” Small little motes of light appear in the lantern, swirling gently in their prison, as Sera draws her knees up to her chest. “Well, I'm awake now, you can go.”

The forlorn gaze and empty voice were nothing like the Serafina he'd come to know and the unsettled sensation in the back of his mind grows. He cleares his throat, trying to get the words moving. “I didn’t come just to wake you up, I wanted to…apologize. For earlier. I’m sorry, the joke was in poor taste.” 

Turning her head, she glances his way from where it rested on her knees. She looks so small like this, so far from the fierce woman who’d led them from the moment of the crash. “Apology accepted, I probably took it too personally.” 

It didn’t quite ring true, but he plows on anyway, hoping maybe those blue eyes would light back up for him. “The truth is, I’m actually a bit rusty with Espruar myself. But maybe I could teach you and it would be good practice for me.” He affects the warmest smile he could, sure the gesture would win her over.

Instead, she shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t actually matter all that much. Thanks for the thought though. You can go, I’m not still mad at you. I’ll see you in the morning.”

That was not his Serafina. He has to do something, to fix this. To keep her on his side. Reaching out, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her into his lap, lips closing over hers. “What’s this about?” She huffs as her skin began to flush a pretty pink. 

“Pleading my apology some more,” his voice drops to the low sultry tone that made her pulse jump in a way he could hear. 

“I said you were forgiven.” Despite her protest, her arms encircle his neck, pulling him closer. 

“Your words said that, but your eyes spoke differently.” His lips trace a line of kisses from her lips to the lobe of her ear, making her sigh. 

This was what he could do for her, what he did best. It was a skill honed by two hundred years of unwilling practice, and like so many before, a skill she was willing to make use of. At least it was easy enough with Sera, she was sweet and gentle, and he knew she'd never harm him. And it wasn't as though a part of him didn't want her, she was a pretty little thing. That part was just bound up with all the other parts that hated what his body had been used for. If he had to open his pants for anyone, he supposes he was glad it was her. 

“I meant it, but- gods Astarion!” He runs his tongue along the point of her ear, less sensitive than his, but still enough to start driving her mad. 

“In that case, we'll call it making up for my behavior earlier.” Guiding her to face him, legs straddling his, her warm core settles against his hips. He kisses his way back down to her throat, already feeling his mind growing distant from his actions. 

Lips linger near the marks on her neck, and she squirms in his lap. “Do you want to?” 

He could never say no to that offer. Without hesitation, his fangs sink into her flesh, and succulent liquid pours into his throat. It adds to what little pleasure he’s able to wring from what he was about to do. Sera whimpers and writhes in his lap, grinding down on his growing erection. She hadn’t started out allowing him to feed on her as some form of pleasure, but she had given him her neck as often as the rest of her body, and the two had become inextricably tied together. 

Just a sip for tonight, after everything that had happened, he couldn’t ask too much. Too soon he pulls his fangs away to lap at the remainders and kiss the wounds. Blood and a distant mind, this was good as it would be for him. “Let's get this out of the way.” Fingers grip the hem of her shirt and guide it over her head. 

She shivers as the night air caresses her skin and leans into him. It was almost enough to make him laugh, there was nothing about him that could provide any warmth. Instead he continues kissing his way down her chest, nipping lightly until her back arches into him and she makes a needy noise. 

“Patience,” he chides her, releasing his grip on her to remove his own shirt. 

Hands encircle her waist in an iron grip, holding her firmly in place while tongue and teeth tease her rosebud nipples. Fingers trace his back as she pants, trying to contain all the noises that could wake the camp. Her nails ghost along his flesh, and he senses she longs to dig them in.. She hadn’t even attempted to ask about it. Why did she afford him such gentleness, was she wary that it would be too much on his scarred flesh?

Lips leave off her hardened peaks to capture hers again, and she grinds against him even harder. No doubt her small clothes were soaked. “You drive me mad,” she whispers, lost in desire. 

Just as he’d wanted, Serafina, hurt feelings and nightmares forgotten. “You enjoy it.” He captured her lip between his teeth for a second and nibbles. “Stand up, take your pants off for me.” He awaits her on his knees, as a penitent seeking their absolution. 

She’s so occupied, she doesn’t notice as his gaze finds the dancing lights in the lantern, and watches them swirl aimlessly until she’s naked before him. Gripping her thighs, he pulls her in, holding them apart so his tongue can swipe along her sex, as soaked as he predicted. Sera’s not a bard, but she sings for him anyway. Fingers grip into his curls, not too tightly. Sometimes he wishes she wouldn’t be so damn gentle, that she'd be like everyone else, someone easy to use, instead of, whatever all this was. 

“Astarion,” she keens as he slips two fingers inside her, tongue running over her clit. 

He laps and suckles at it almost as fiercely as he does the wounds he leaves in her neck. The fingers inside her find the spot that causes her knees to buckle and another cry to leave her. She’s close, just a little more, and he could leave it for the night.  

“I want you inside me.” He stiffens, inhaling deeply. 

“Do you now, my sweet?” He nips her thigh playfully with his fangs while his stomach drops. “Then come down here.” 

As soon she hits her knees, he's positioning her on all fours, he can’t look her in the eyes right now. He tears his pants open, eyes finding the lights again, concentrating on them as he pushes inside her. She’s warm and wet as she pushes back against him, eager to have all of him. Because she chooses him. No matter how many of his rough edges and dark corners she finds, she wants him. Would she still want him if she saw it all?

Forget it, he tells himself, pushing that thought away. He clears his mind until there’s only the moment, the sensation left, hips slapping against hers, the way her body clenches around his cock, how she eagerly sucks the fingers he puts in her mouth so she has something to absorb the moans. 

It’s almost enough to completely lose himself, his cock twitches. It’s spectacular, the way she meets every thrust and takes everything he has to give. “Touch yourself,” he urges, eager for her to come undone. 

Her own fingers slide between her folds, working feverishly. It’s not long before the noises muffled by his fingers become frantic and she tightens around him. 

“That’s it, my darling, let go.” With another deep thrust, he allows himself a release. “Sera,” he gasps, knowing it will please her to hear her name on his lips. 

They collapse next to one another on the bedroll, Sera quick to snuggle up in his arms. It takes longer than it should to embrace her, his body wanting to run. “Is everything alright?” She asks, innocently, from where she lays, head on his chest. Maybe there are merciful gods, she can’t see his face. 

“Of course, love. I think I may have worn myself out after all the walking today.” Softly, he kisses her head, he can’t let her suspect. 

“Well don’t complain tomorrow, Lae’zel will blame me for sure. I don’t think I was very discreet.” She laughs, sounding like sleep is already returning to her. 

“But you are to blame. If you weren’t so irresistible.” He tries to laugh as well. This stupid, sweet girl, why does she lay in a monster’s arms and giggle? 

With a yawn, she gives him an out. “You should probably go, I’m going to fall asleep soon and don’t want to trap you here.” 

One more kiss, even as his mind insists on fleeing. “Goodnight my love, rest well, and I’m sorry again.”

“For what?”

“For earlier.” For everything. 

Tag list:

@micropoe10  @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin

@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird

@darlingxdragon @wanderingisobel @astarionsbeloved

@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @volotramp @misscrissfemmefatale @bg3obsessedsideblog @captainaceofspades @wickedwitchofthewilds @asterordinary

[staytinyville]

OUTLAW (40)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: none

A/N BETA READ (@mariana-mmtz). YOU GUYS! I have a permanent taglist in my main masterlist if you wish to be added to my imagines. Taglist for my fics are currently not available though. It is currently closed for this story and my Stay Alive one. However if you wish to read my imagines (I have a couple coming out soon) Please be sure you check it out!

Staytinyville Permanent Taglist

You were placed at the back of the group as the boys gathered all the needed materials to break into city hall through a window. You were trying to calm your breathing, wiping your sweaty hands along the material of your trousers.

You could hear the crickets chirping in the grass and the lanterns lit up through the thick fog that was casting over the town. It was a bit past midnight, the boys wanted to make sure all the occupants of city hall were asleep as well as most of the citizens. Fewer witnesses as they said.

“Hey, look at me.” Hongjoong spoke up, pulling your chin. “You can back out and we won't be upset.” He told you.

You turned back to the other boys, seeing Yeosang and Wooyoung ready at the window that was pried open. “It's not that.” You shook your head. “I'll get over it. Promise.” You gave him a reassuring smile, moving forward to the three boys who would help you.

“Get ready, Sweetheart!” Wooyoung grinned, grabbing your hand and leading you to the window. “Ladies first.” He told you, allowing you room to crawl in.

As you lifted yourself up, you got caught on the sill at your waist so you had to wiggle some to get over it. However, as you were wiggling around, someone’s palms were quick to grip onto your cheeks to help push you into the room. When you fell with a thud, you quickly composed yourself to see who the culprit was.

“Wooyoung!” You whisper-shouted, looking at the grinning boy who was climbing in.

“Sorry.” He laughed, stepping into the room. “I couldn't resist.”

Before you were able to get the chance to retort something back, Yeosang had made his way through, shushing both of you. With a quick nod back outside the window, he led you and Wooyoung out of the office you broke into and to the hallway.

“Which way?” Wooyoung asked.

“This way.” You explained, having known most of the layout for the building.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough for one to have trouble finding what they needed. It was only two stories, but the vault was placed directly in the middle of the first floor behind the front desk. When you made it to the large silver doors, Yeosang quickly walked up to it and moved the lock dial around for a bit before turning back.

“Wooyoung.” He called the boy.

“Going!” Wooyoung singsonged.

You watched as he placed his ear to the door, moving the dials a certain way and very slowly. As he heard clicks behind the metal, a grin began to make its way onto his face the moment the last click sounded.

“Got it.” He called, shoving the large door open.

You took in a deep breath as the sight of piles of money seemed to come into view. You slowly walked in behind the two boys, eyes on the paper. Your shoulders suddenly dropped as you thought about all of this going to the wrong kind of people.

All of this could be used to help out the orphanage or the fishermen at the docks or the farmers who supplied the city with food. But yet, here they were taking the money in an illegal manner to give to them yourselves. You knew this money belonged to the people who worked here, but the taxes were in place for a reason. Maybe they didn’t need to be so high, but it was too late now to return it all to the right people.

“Let's get this show on the road.” Wooyoung clapped his hands together, dropping multiple bags onto the floor.

You snapped out of your stupor before quickly moving to fill the bags full of bills that you had never even had the chance of seeing in person. Who knows how someone was able to get that kind of money. But you still moved along with Wooyoung and Yeosang, filling bag after bag.

In total, you got a good amount of bags as you all tried to carry four at a time back to the window.

“Watch it!” Jongho whispered-yelled at Wooyoung who poked his head out.

“Then move!” Wooyoung replied. “You see me throwing bags full of coins—obviously it's going to hurt.” He crawled out of the window as he threw the last of the bags out.

“Shut up, you two.” Yunho glared, flicking both of them on the forehead. “Let's go.” He instructed, each of the boys trying to take as many bags as they could.

“Here's the list of people who deserve the money. We'll meet back at the camp in an hour.” Hongjoong told everyone, allowing them to pass the list around

They each spoke who it was they would be giving it to so that they didn’t come across the same person. San told you he would go with you to the orphanage, followed by your family's hotel as you were going back to the camp. Hongjoong assured you it was alright for you to separate money for them. At least just enough to help them get through the winter months, just in case.

You sat behind San on his horse as he made his way towards the orphanage/church that was stationed near the hotel. You could remember always going out to play with the children as a child. Back when, things weren’t so tough in making new friends. However, as they grew up and you started to have a mouth on you, the nuns seemed to have a problem.

But you still cared for the children who were dropped off. Still came to help the nuns with some of the babies, even if they did hold some kind of harsh feelings for how you acted. But they weren’t about to reject free help.

You got off the horse the moment San came to a stop, pulling on some bags to reach the porch of the church. They had a confession box outside, so you thought it was best to place the money there. You hid it under the bench just in case, looking up as the wooden cross stared down at you.

You started to feel sick to your stomach. You were never a religious person–only going along with what your family had to say at church. In fact, this was the same church you came to every Sunday. You weren’t forced into the religion, and your parents didn’t care if you were or not. The only reason they ever made you go to church was because they didn’t want people to talk bad about you.

But that still didn’t mean you never listened in during the session. So when you finished putting the money in its safe spot, you bowed your head. Rushing back to San, the boy gave you a kind smile, helping you back onto his horse.

You did the same thing at your family's hotel, dropping off the money into the mailbox before taking off to the camp to meet up with the others.

“Alright, phase one is done.” Hongjoong told everyone once they arrived. “Now we wait for tomorrow.”

“How was it, Darling? Your first heist!” Seonghwa laughed, pulling you into a hug from behind.

The others began to crowd you, watching you with a smile as they waited for your response. “It was scary but exhilarating.” You told them. “I wish I could see the faces of the kids when they wake up.”

“We always wish that.” Hongjoong spoke up. “Let's get to bed, have a tough day starting in the morning.”

And so the next morning, you and Yeosang had been walking hand-in-hand in the town square, waiting for something that would tell you both that they had found the money. And the moment you saw all the policemen rushing towards city hall and heard people gossiping around the area, you knew it was the perfect time for others to move along.

“So it begins.” You told Yeosang.

“Let's get the others.” He told you, giving you a nod of his head.

Yeosang was quick to get the rest of the boys as they all gathered together at the edge of the town. They had split up into their groups, telling you to go with Hongjoong, Mingi, and Seonghwa just in case things got ugly at Quaid’s house.

You were placed on watch duty outside in the front of the estate. You made sure to keep a distance, just in case someone asked you why you were waiting at the mayor's house. However, from what you were able to notice, people seemed to be in a rush towards city hall. You kept glancing around, trying to seem as though you were occupied with the gossip rather than waiting for someone to show up.

Your face quickly turned into worry though as you saw Quaid’s carriage pass by. And while the mayor wasn’t going to be with him, you knew the judge was heading towards his house. Running to the back of the large house, you shouted out to Hongjoong, who was in Klein’s office.

“Captain! Quaid is going back to his home.” You told him.

He had some papers in his arms, but he quickly snapped his head to look at you. “I’ll get the others. You try to delay him.”

With a nod of your head, you took off towards one of the boy’s horses. Coming up with some kind of solution quickly on the way, you took off in the direction of the man’s carriage. He had been close to reaching his house before you pulled the horse to cross his path in a hurry, making it seem as though the horse was spooked with something.

“Hey! It’s okay! You’re okay!” You tried to calm down the horse, actually startling it from almost colliding with the horses pulling the carriage.

“What’s going on?” Quiad asked as he looked over the driver’s shoulder.

“Sorry, you honor!” You yelled over to him. “My horse was spooked by something and seemed to have gotten in the way.”

Your eyes moved to the side, watching as the captain and the boys trotted along the path, minding their own business. Seognhwa gave you a subtle nod when he passed you, causing you to do the same. Turning back to the judge, you watched as he seemed to have waved you off and went back to clenching his jaw.

When the boys began to push their horses into a run, you gave the judge one last smile before following along with them. You just hoped Wooyoung had enough time to see them pass and warn the others.

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki , @mismatchfluffysocks , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3 , @popcatx0 , @blue1amory , @mommahwa1117 , @sunnyhokyu , @cloudieclair , @puppyminnnie

[robinsno1lesbian]

𝐈'𝐌 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 - 𝐍.𝐖.

nancy wheeler x female! reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a trip to murray's cabing changes everything between you and nancy. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6226

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content! (MDNI), mention of alcohol, fingering, soft dom!nancy, oral, thigh riding, finger sucking, praise kink, use of petnames, dirty talk (let me know if i missed anything!) 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: we need more nancy wheeler x reader content on tumbrl!!! no beta read because who needs that anyway? (i definitely do but...you know?) also the ending is kind of rushed because i had to leave lmao

he raises his brow in surprise as you friendly decline the offer of sleeping in one bed with nancy.

"oh" you say. "oh no- we aren't- we aren't that- i mean...we're friends"

he huffs, leaning forward in his armchair, his elbows resting on his knees.

"now this is interesting..." he glares from you over to nancy, then back at you.

"you're telling me there isn't some secret thing going on between the two of you?"

you watch nancy from the corner of your eye, the question seemingly catching her by surprise.

before either of you can give an answer, he leans back again.

"well Y/N Y/L/N you are quite easy to read...always present, yet somehow you never fit in. some might say it is because you're insecure or...whatever girls your age might be. but I don't think that's the whole truth, or is it?"

you open your mouth, then close it again like a fish on land.

"you, Y/N, are different from all the others and you know it. you know you won’t fit it. you know you won't ever like a boy the way your girlfriends might, don't you? and this is why you keep a distance from everyone else in this world because, god forbid, what if someone finds out?"

you can hear nancy inhale sharply right next to you, but you are too focused on his words to care.

"you, however,” he turns to face nancy. "you are harder to read…" he nods slowly.

"but i think....i think I figured you out too...nancy wheeler you aren't that different from our lovely Y/N here, you know? well, you have been with boys, haven't you? but here is my theory-"

he inhales.

"you have been running your entire life. when things get messy, nancy wheeler is the first to run. but it's not just with others, you do it to yourself too. you run away from your own feelings, desperately trying to push them away. as if they'd vanish into nothingness as long as you just keep running"

you shoot a glare at nancy.

her eyes are wide, her nostrils flaring in the dim light of the room.

"you seek the comfort of some boy, am i right? thinking that the salvation of his arms will eventually drown out all of the other things that your heart is longing for. i just know there is one, i just need a name...what's his name, come on. what's his name?!"

"steve" you say. the name alone is enough to make your blood boil. "his name is steve"

"steve! you seek steve's comfort, love and maybe even validation because it might make it all go away. but nancy wheeler, it won't. and you see this is the difference between the two of you. Y/N is keeping her distance because she knows what she's feeling and she's scared other people will know it too but you...my god you just run away from it until your whole body is sore"

your heart is beating a mile a minute, thundering within your chest.

could he be right? he certainly was when it came to his assumptions about you.

"so..." he spreads his arms. "how was i?"

nancy jumps up from the couch fast -too fast.

"whatever you think you know" she nearly snaps, close to losing her temper.

"it's wrong. i will gladly take the couch. y/n can have the bed. now if you would just...leave us?"

you swallow the spark of hope that you've felt about the thought of nancy, secretly being just like you, and get up.

"where is the bedroom?" you ask, trying to ease the tension.

-

"nancy and girls" you sigh, as you sit down on the bed. "as if!"

you scoff, trying to push the thought away for another time, and lay down in the bed that is supposed to be yours for the night. 

you very much know you'd be lying if you said the thought of it wasn't thrilling. you know you've liked nancy for a long time now -longer than you'd care to admit. 

though you've always thought she was straight, well, until this very moment. 

your desperate attempt of trying to escape the thoughts turns out to be unsuccessful as you find yourself tossing and turning relentlessly.

eventually, you sit up again. 

you feel the urge to explain it all to nancy. to at least clear out whatever has gotten into her. 

and even though you have no idea how to start, you move towards the door. 

when you open it, the darkness of the night immediately spilling into your room, you are surprised to see another silhouette making its way through the living room -one you would recognize out of a million others. 

'nancy?' you whisper, your fingers searching for the light switch. 

once it's found, light floods the room, allowing you to see more of her than just a shadow. 

her hair is put up messily and she's wearing her pajamas already. her arms are hugging her own body tight as if that would make the uncomfortable autumn cold go away. 

'hey..' 

'hi,' she replies, awkwardly stepping closer to you. 

'look, y/n, about what he said earlier...i don't even know where to start but...'

'he's totally drunk' you interrupt, your face growing hot. 'that's all!' 

she looks up, and something within her eyes, her big blue doe eyes, is different. you just can't place it yet.

regardless of that, she nods, a brief smile flashing over her face. 

'yeah right? i mean he is so drunk...'

you quickly nod, fighting back the urge to bite your lower lip, as you always do when telling a lie. 

he might have been drunk, but that isn't what this is about. it isn't the reason why he said all of those things.

'he totally was...' the silence that follows is nearly unbearable.

'i am...i am gonna go to bed now' you finally speak, your words cutting through the night like a knife. 

'oh- yes sure' 

'good night, nance' 

you turn on your heel, not really waiting for an answer, to go back to bed. 

'what the fuck y/n' you whisper to yourself once you have reached the safety of being behind closed doors.

you shake your head slightly before laying down again. 

frustrated you turn off the light on your nightstand, a gesture that is supposed to be final. 

just a couple of seconds later you switch it back on. 

how is one to even think of sleep like this? and why did this guy, murray, have to bring this stuff up? 

your head is spinning, filled with questions that need to be answered.

for the second time, you throw the thick blanket aside to sit up. 

you feel so stupid, but the uncertainty is even worse. there is a bit of worry, too, because something, though you aren't entirely sure what it is, is clearly wrong with nancy. 

the cold floor beneath your feet makes you shiver as you walk through the room.

once you’ve made your way to the door, your hand reaches for the doorknobs.

as you try to walk out of it, you notice that the lights are still turned on.

yet before you have the chance to focus on that, you crash into nancy, who is standing just a couple of inches away from your door. 

her sudden presence takes you by surprise, yet the fact that she is standing as close to you as she currently is, causes your mind to go completely blank.

your eyes meet hers and the glance that is exchanged tells you more than a thousand words.

her pupils are blown wide, leaving little of the blue in her eyes. there is something else in her gaze, something you have never seen in her before. 

almost a hunger for something and...

oh. 

oh. 

before you can question what exactly is going on, you feel nancy's lips on your own. 

plump and pink, they're pressed against your skin and you can't help but return the kiss.

and as unsure and delicate as it might be, it rouses all the feelings you've tried to oppress. 

the stolen moments of loving nancy in silence threaten to spill out all at once, all of that just because of a simple kiss.

you wonder what else nancy could do if this results from nothing but her lips on yours.

unfortunately, the sensation goes just as fast as it has come.

nancy takes a step back and stares up at you apologetically.

she's pounding and shocked by her own actions and all you can do is stare right back at her, surprised by the unsaid confession she has made. 

she brings her hand up to her chest in what seems like an attempt to stop her heart from racing.

she stumbles backward too, as if in fear.

it is painful to watch her like this. as if you’d judge her -or even worse hate her- for kissing you.

too painful, you quickly decide. 

so you go after her, follow her, and within two big steps, your chest bumps into hers. 

carefully, you place a hand on her cheek, taking in the heat that's radiating from her skin. 

'nance' you choke out. 

then your lips are pressed against hers again and everything falls into place. you move quicker than your brain can comprehend but none of it matters. 

her hands are in your hair and on your waist and her lips, god, her lips are the only thing you can focus on. 

every inch of your skin is on fire at the feeling and the more your lips move together, the more confident you grow. 

eventually, her tongue slips past your lips and the last bits of ice are broken into nothingness. 

she nearly throws her body towards you, catching you by surprise as you manage some shaky steps back until hitting the door behind you.

nancy's lips never leave yours as she cups your face with both of her hands, the kiss growing more and more intense with every second that goes by. 

you can feel the pad of nancy's thumb, gently caressing your cheek. you can feel the same breath the two of you are sharing, coming hot and heavy from her lips.

at the first small noise that erupts from the back of her throat, you nearly cry out, as you've been dying to hear such sweet noises coming from nancy's lips. 

she must have noticed, as a steady flow of light moans and gasps escapes her lips. 

eventually, you have to break the kiss, trying to catch your breath as you stare at her. 

you are mesmerized, her lips puffy from the kisses you have shared. 

'nance...' you whine, hating yourself for how desperate you sound.

'god nancy...'

she takes the hint, pushing you into the room and closing the door on your way in. 

she takes advantage of your foggy state of mind and guides the two of you through the room, until the back of your knees hit the bed. 

you gladly allow her to push you down onto the mattress but she eagerly follows, crawling over your body until her face lingers above yours. 

her lips are slightly parted and shine in the dim light of the room. her chest rises and falls as her breaths come in short puffs.

you’re thankful that she has decided to take control over the situation. it’s pleasant but not surprising: nancy has always liked to be in control of things.

you reach out and brush the hair out of her face -a gesture to calm down both her and your own nerves. 

your heart is beating a mile a minute and your mind is struggling to keep up with everything that is happening. 

"what do you want nancy?" you whisper and bite your lower lip. she looks gorgeous, towering over you with a determined look on her face. 

"i want you. all of you" she licks her lips. "if that's okay?" 

"more than okay" you reply, nodding eagerly. 

she leans back. "sit up" 

you do as you're told, all of your limbs listening to nancy's command.

you sit up slowly, leaning against the headboard for support as you watch nancy straddle your lap. 

you can immediately feel the heat coming from underneath her thin shorts. you mutter curses under your breath at the new feeling.

she takes your head in her hands, her thumbs massaging your cheeks.

"we don't have to do this okay? i don't want you to feel pressured or-"

"nance" you cut her off sharply. "i do want this"

you emphasize your point by placing your hands on top of hers. 

"i want this so bad" your voice turns into a whine that you can't find the strength to feel embarrassed about. but if anything, it spurs nancy on. 

she kisses you again, passionately and with purpose. 

you fight back the urge to roam her entire body with your hands and choose to place them on her waist, giving her an encouraging squeeze. 

the moment you part your lips, nancy's tongue slips past them again.

you moan into her mouth at the feeling. 

you doubt that you would ever get tired of kissing nancy but she isn't done with you yet. 

she yanks your head back and attacks your neck with kisses. 

you can feel her sucking on your skin, right below your jaw, and that feeling alone is enough to let you see stars. 

"oh god" you mutter. 

nancy looks up at you to make sure what she's doing is alright.

"take off my clothes" you murmur, lost in the blue of her hungry eyes. 

"gladly" she replies, already fumbling with the hem of your shirt. 

you lift your arms, giving her easier access as she strips off the item and throws is across the room. you are not wearing a bra and, with the clothing gone, you find yourself topless underneath nancy wheeler.

she takes a moment to admire your body, her eyes looking at you in awe. 

"you're beautiful" she finally speaks, all while unbuttoning her own shirt as well.

she's a tease, pushing each button through its hole slowly while never breaking eye contact. 

"god nance" you groan with anticipation that makes her giggle. 

the shirt falls loosely around her slender shoulders and she pushes it off of her body in a smooth motion. 

it pools around her hips and you are face to face with nancy’s tits. she is, without a doubt, gorgeous and it takes everything within you not to put your hands all over her. 

"you are stunning, nancy" you tell her, your fingertips ghosting over her back, moving downwards. 

goosebumps start to rise beneath them and she shivers. 

"touch me" nancy mumbles. her eyelids flutter close when your touch becomes firm on her back. 

you allow your hands to wander for a bit before moving them to her chest. 

you inhale sharply as your palms cup her breasts. 

nancy lets out a breathy laugh at your reaction. 

"like what you see?" 

you nod, your mouth falling slightly open while you run your thumbs over her nipples. 

nancy sucks in a breath, her back arching further into your touch. 

"f-fuck" she mumbles and you smile.

if this is a dream, you find yourself thinking, please let me stay here forever. fortunately, it is not a dream. nancy is there, on top of you, impatiently straddling your lap. 

without giving it any further consideration, you lean forward and put your mouth on her. 

nancy shudders beneath your lips. her hands are immediately curling up in your hair in an attempt to pull you closer. 

you place gentle kisses on her skin before wrapping your lips around her nipple, sucking carefully. 

you’ve never done this before but nancy’s reaction confirms that she seems to like what you’re doing to her:

her head falls back and you watch her through thick lashes. she is completely blissed out, experiencing this much pleasure from nothing but your lips.

“oh” she breathes shakily.

your fingers dance over her ribcage, slowly moving further down, all while your lips never leave her chest.

but just when you reach the elastic of her shorts, she grabs your wrists and stops you. 

you immediately release her nipple with a wet pop and lean back. 

nancy's pupils are blown, giving her a dark look. it sends another heatwave straight to your center and you nearly moan at the sight of it. 

"wait" she whispers. 

"are you okay?" 

she nods slowly. "don't worry, i just-" 

blush creeps up her cheeks and you grin sheepishly. "it's okay" you reassure. "whatever you want" 

"need you like this" she slurs. 

you raise your brows at her. "like what?" 

but she's already shifting her body, leaving her straddling just one of your thighs. 

you can feel her hot center against your exposed skin, her heat soaking through the thin layer of fabric. 

"i want to ride you" she admits in one shaky breath. "is that okay?" 

god, you know you want nothing more than for nancy wheeler to make a mess on your thigh. 

"yes please" you place your hands on her hips. "you can do whatever you want to me nance" 

the confession slips past your lips before you can comprehend your words. but nancy doesn't seem to mind: it even turns her on further. 

"yeah?" she mumbles against your lips and, to test the waters, rolls her hips against you for the first time.  her center creates a delicious kind of friction that runs through your entire body. 

your fingers tighten around her hips which she takes as a sign to move faster. 

"fuck" nancy groans “you’re so good for letting me ride you like this” she presses her lips against yours. 

the kiss is uncoordinated, all tongue and teeth while nancy never stops rutting against you. 

she reaches out to grab the headboard behind you for support, caging you in between her arms. you wouldn’t mind dying like this, suffocated by the magic that is nancy wheeler.

the friction between your bodies gets more fiery as the seconds pass by and you can’t stop your hips from bucking upward im sync with nancy’s slow rolling.

you stare up at her. her eyes are shut tightly and her head has fallen back. her lips are parted and a steady stream of quiet moans is coming out of them. she looks like a mess.

a beautiful fucking mess, all because of you.

"yeah" you encourage her and her eyes fly open to look at you. "just like that nance" 

feeling especially bold, you ground her against yourself, once, twice. 

her eyes roll back and the loudest moan so far leaves her mouth. 

god, more of that, please. 

as she gets off on your thigh, an idea occurs to you: her tits are bouncing right in front of your eyes, her nipples still glistening from your previous actions.

you kiss the valley between her breasts before working on her left breast. you flick your tongue over the hardened nipple harshly and nancy moans again. 

"fuck y/n- feels so good! you’re doing such a good job” her voice sounds breathless and high pitched but there is something firm about it. like she’s still the one in charge.

nancy’s praise goes straight to your center.

your hands cup her other breast and give it a squeeze. 

"god" she keens. "god, fuck- please don't stop"

you would not dare to stop. not when you can feel her cunt throbbing against you through her pants. not when she's holding onto that creaking headboard for dear life. not when this whole sight is making you wetter than you've ever been all your life.

so, naturally, you just keep going. after a couple of minutes, the only noise that is filling the room is the one coming from between nancy's legs. the delicious sounds of her arousal, being dragged over your thigh by the force of her hips. her eyes have fallen shut again but she's closing them tightly now. squeezing them together with a concentrated look written over her face.

you can tell, right then and there, that she is close. her breath is becoming shorter with every exhale and her movements are faster than they have been before. 

"'m close" she mutters through gritted teeth. "y/n please, so close-" the headboard gives another concerning creak.

the sensation and heat of the moment are becoming too much and not nearly enough.

nancy reaches for the back of your head with one of her hands and yanks you back, away from her sensitive breasts. your gaze instantly meets hers.

“kiss me” she groans.

you follow her order immediately, pressing your lips to hers. you drink every noise that comes from nancy’s throat, take in every moan and whine that she can’t oppress.

you can feel her on your leg and you don’t even have to look at it to know that she’s incredibly wet. your teeth graze her lower lip at the same time you flex your muscle against her at and that is all it takes.

"gonna cum, gonna cum" she cries out. 

her movements stutter and you take the opportunity to move her against you by the hips. 

nancy throws her head back, her curls framing her face perfectly. her mouth has fallen open and her eyes have rolled back. 

her body goes completely rigid as her orgasm washes over her. 

"fuck" she cries out loudly, not stopping her movements just yet. you let go of her, allowing her to ride you mercilessly but at her own pace.

the room felt cold before, but that seems to be long gone. you can feel a thin layer of sweat of your forehead and hot puffs of nancy’s breath on your skin.

nancy, who is still cumming on top of you. her orgasm ripples through her in waves and she’s grinding down desperately.

“y/n” she manages. “look at me”

your eyes meet hers. her mouth hangs open, her chest heaving rapidly. you can’t help but take pride in that. you are the one who made her look like this.

she slows down, her clit too sensitive for any further stimulation.

once she has ridden out her orgasm, her limbs begin shaking against you. 

"hey nance" you spread your arms and she immediately understands. with her body slack, she drops against you, but you gladly let her. 

you wrap your arms around her and she places her head on your chest. 

her hand finds yours and she reaches for it in an instant. you smile at the feeling of her fingers linked with yours. 

there is no place in this world you would rather be right now.

"thank you" she murmurs hazily.

you press your lips to her temple. 

"do you need something? water? a blanket?" 

she shakes her head. "just you. for now." 

you nod because you know she's right. nancy wheeler is all you ever needed in life.

after a while, nancy untangles herself from your sweet embrace. you raise your brows at her but she just smiles, takes you by the shoulders, and pushes you down into the pillow. 

"woah nance" you laugh. "we don't have to-" 

she cuts you off. "i want to. if that's okay?" 

you don't need to be asked twice. of course you want nancy, considering the wetness that's still pooling between your legs, you actually need her. desperately. 

"it's more than okay" you lean up to meet her lips halfway. 

you moan against her lips as she parts them for you. she takes her time kissing you, exploring every inch of your mouth as her hands pin you down. 

making out with nancy is pure bliss but, by the way your hips buck up involuntarily, you know you need more than that.

nancy hums against your wet and plump lips. "what do you need?" 

"please" it's barely a whisper. "touch me" 

her hand moves down your body, all the way down to the hemline of your pants. 

your whole body shivers at the contact and your hips buck into her hands.  

"shhh" she whispers. "don't worry. I'll take care of you”

you nod and she strokes your cheek gently before leaning in to kiss your earlobe. 

the sensation of her breath against your skin sends shivers down your spine.

her lips are right next to your ear as she whispers: "take your pants off”

you moan and nancy chuckles. "so needy for me?"

you can't help but nod enthusiastically. 

"you sound so pretty when you moan" she continues. "i wanna hear more" 

you flick the buttons of your pants and pull them down your legs before kicking them off the bed, leaving you in nothing but your panties. 

nancy's hand returns to your lower half and she lets her trimmed nails slightly scratch down your belly. she watches you with careful eyes, taking in each one of your reactions. 

then, finally, she reaches your panties. 

"are you sure this is okay?" 

"yes" you breathe. "yes, yes. just please touch me already" 

she grins and her fingers finally crawl below the waistband of your underwear. 

your eyes flutter when you feel her hand cupping your core. her palm is warm against you.  her lips part and she gasps when she moves a single, delicate finger down to your entrance. 

"you're so wet for me" she mumbles, her voice sounding genuinely surprised.

she collects some of your wetness on her digit and brings it up to your clit, drawing small circles around it. 

"fuck" your legs violently shake underneath her body and you nearly choke on a moan. "fuck nancy" 

"does it feel good?" she asks with a smirk plastered over her face. 

of course it feels good. how couldn’t it?

"y-yeah" you mutter. 

"good" she whispers and removes her fingers. 

"nancy-" you whine at the loss.

but the brunette leans back and brings up her hand in front of your face. 

her fingers are glistering in the dim light of the room. you can see a string of your own arousal between her middle and ring finger as she experimentally spreads them apart. 

"you made such a mess" she bites her lip. "such a pretty fucking mess. and i didn’t even touch you yet…”

her dirty talking does things to you that you have never experienced before. if she talks for long enough, you fear you might actually come undone. 

 "can you clean it up for me?" she questions, her clean hand moving under your chin to lift your gaze. 

nancy stares down at you expecting an answer and you feel like putty in her hands. 

"y-yeah" you rasp. 

"good girl" she murmurs and you clench around absolutely nothing. 

"fucking hell, nancy" 

"too much?" she asks, sudden worry written all over her face. 

you shake your head immediately. "god no. it's perfect. you're perfect" 

she smiles, then brings up her fingers and moves them along your lower lip. 

“open up” she murmurs.

you don’t need to be told twice.

you’ve never tasted yourself before, the thought has never even occurred to you before. but now, with your wetness coating nancy’s beautiful fingers, there is nothing holding you back.

you can feel your own wetness coating them, but you can't bring up the willpower to be disgusted by it. not in the slightest. you want this more than ever. 

your lips part and nancy inhales sharply as you take her fingers into your mouth. 

you taste salty, with an edge of sweetness and something that is entirely your own. it makes you moan around her.

the brunette watches you through half lidded eyes. she can tell you’re enjoying this by the way your eyes roll back as she explores your mouth.

your legs tremble when nancy pushes them further into your mouth.

"god" she groans as she watches you. "fuck, y/n, you look so pretty like this" 

you swirl your tongue around her fingers, sucking off the last bits of your arousal. but it doesn’t end here.

nancy crooks her finger inside of your mouth, hooks them right behind your front bottom teeth and pulls your mouth open slightly.

all you can really focus on is the way she’s pressing down on your tongue.

you hum around a mouthful of wetness, licking her digits clean. to give her an extra show, you move your head as you lick over them. 

nancy strokes your hair out of your face to get a better look at you and smiles. 

eventually, she removes her fingers from your mouth. 

"i need to taste you" she mumbles absentminded as she stars at her wet hand. "are you okay with that?" 

the thought of nancy's head between your thighs is dizzying. you never had someone going down on you before but, secretly, you always wondered what it would feel like to get fucked mindlessly by someone else's tongue. 

just that until this moment, no one ever offered to actually do it. 

"please do" you whisper. 

that's all nancy needs. she pushes you down and starts kissing your torso. 

she's taking her time to give your breasts equal treatment to what you have given her before: sucking your soft skin into her mouth and leaving a generous amount of marks before swirling her tongue around your nipples.

when her lips begin to move lower, you instinctively open your legs for her, bending them at the knees. 

you lean your head back in anticipation and look up at the ceiling above. 

so this is actually happening.

your cheeks flush when nancy hooks her thumbs under the waistband of your panties. the thought of her actually seeing all of you makes you nervous.

but when she tilts her head you give her a firm nod. 

she pulls them down slowly, giving you time to stop her in case you'd change your mind. 

and then they're gone. 

you are in bed, completely naked and with nancy wheeler towering above you.

you can't help but feel the slightest bit exposed and close your legs. 

but nancy places her palms on top of your knees. 

"don't" she whispers. "don't hide from me. you're gorgeous" 

you allow her to push your legs apart again, her eyes grazing downward as she does so. 

you don’t miss the way she licks her lips when her stare reaches your pussy.

"keep your legs open for me, okay?" 

you nod and she moves to lay in between them, her face just inches away from your pussy. 

"god" she groans. "fuck y/n, you’re so fucking wet for me" 

your eyes roll back in your head as her breath hits your exposed clit. 

nancy notices and raises her brows, surprised at how badly you seem to need her. 

"please" you mouth, unable to form a proper sentence. 

and who is nancy to deny a pretty girl like you? 

her head dips in between your thighs and just a second later you feel her tongue on you. a shuddered breath escapes your lips as she licks through you, collecting your wetness on her tongue. 

the feeling is different from anything you’ve ever known. it’s so much better. her velvet tongue moves through you as if she knows exactly what to do and where to touch you.

nancy herself lets out an obscene moan at the very first taste of you. 

“you taste so good” her dark tone is almost unrecognizable.

she then licks upward, moving the arousal she has gathered up to your clit. 

she kitten licks over your bundle of nerves, her palms pressing against the soft flesh of your thighs to spread you open for her.

you grip the sheets beneath you. the feeling of nancy's tongue on you is enough to make you cum right then and there and for a second you're afraid that might actually happen. 

"nancy" you moan. her name falls from your lips like a prayer, over and over again. “nancy, fuck-“

her tongue circles your clit, right before her lips wrap around it. your hips jerk into her face over and over and not even nancy's hands on your waist can steady you. 

“oh my god” you gasp.

the sheets beneath you are no longer enough. your hands reach for nancy’s curls and you pull her closer to you. she hisses at the sharp tug you give her hair but the noise turns into a pleased hum when she notices what you’re doing.

you already know you won't last long like this, but when nancy begins stroking through you with her middle finger, you’re genuinely afraid that this might just be your very end.

your back arches off the mattress im a beautiful bend while she carefully works a single finger into your throbbing cunt. she barely meets any resistance at all, with how wet you are.

feeling her inside you takes things to a whole new level: her fingers are longer than yours and she’s buried knuckle deep inside of your pussy, reaching depths you were never able to reach on your own.

she keeps it still and leans back to make sure this is not taking it too far.

“please” you plead. “fuck me with your fingers already”

the sob that erupts from you the second she moves inside of you for the first time is hardly human anymore.

the sensation of her fingers thrusting into you and her lips around your clit has you seeing stars.

it’s so much, so good and not nearly enough.

“more” you beg. “please nancy, more- i need more”

you roll your hips with every thrust of her finger and you can feel a second one toying your entrance.

you don't mind at all, far too blissed out to care. in fact, this is exactly what you wanted.

the delicious feeling of being stretched out only turns you on further when her ring finger pushes into you.

she slowly pumps them in and out of you, drawing obscene noises from the in between if your legs.

you squirm wildly on the bed, your knuckles turning white from the strong grasp you have on her hair.

you briefly register the flutter of your walls around nancy’s fingers, the way it’s getting harder for you to keep your legs open.

"nancy, nance, I'm close" you whine, feeling the build-up of your orgasm in your lower abdomen. 

she growls against you, determined to make you cum.

she pumps her finger into you, the base of her knuckles pounding against your skin and her tongue not once stops flicking over your clit. 

your breath hitches as she hits the spot inside of your that makes you scream, moving both of them in a “come hither” motion against you.

"nance" you say. it is somewhat of a warning. "nance, god, yeah just like that-"

your cunt squelching against nancy's fingers and your eyes roll back as she pushes you over the edge. 

"you're gonna make me cum- nancy you’re gonna-“ you moan, right before your climax washes over you. 

and then you cum. hard. 

the orgasm completely shatters your body and all nancy can do is flatten out her tongue so you can ride it out. 

your hands on her are the only thing grounding you to this earth.

your hips buck into her face uncontrollably and you bring up a hand over your mouth to hold back the scandalous moans. 

nancy continues to fuck you through your climax, and you can feel your arousal flowing out of you.

your muscles twitch and your hips slow down. you wince at the overstimulation over her tongue lapping over you.

“‘s so much” you slur and all stimulation stops at once.

you look down to find nancy already looking up at you. her face is ruined. 

your arousal is dripping down her chin and her hair is a mess. she has a smile on her lips nonetheless.

"god y/n you're so beautiful" nancy whispers.

you let out an airy laugh, the aftershocks of your orgasm rippling through you.

“i’m gonna remove my fingers now, okay?” she asks, her voice impossibly gentle.

you nod and she slowly pulls them out of you. you sob at the loss of being filled by her.  

“shhh” she hushes you. “it’s okay, i’m here y/n.”

she moves up to you, careful not to accidentally put her weight onto your shaking body. 

"are you okay? was this okay?" 

you nod, unable to form a proper sentence yet.

“i’m gonna get water for us” she informs you but you stop her.

“stay” you whine. “just…for a little bit”

a sweet smile creeps up her cheeks and she gently carcasses your neck.

“of course” she speaks calmly. “of course. i’m staying here”

you try to sit up and she immediately reaches out to help you.

you love this and you might just love nancy too. you know you can’t tell her that, not yet at least. but when she lays you down on her chest and wraps her arms around you, you know you want to stay like this forever.

“promise me you’ll stay?” you mumble sleepily.

nancy smiles.

“i promise”

[yourfatherlucifer]

If I killed someone for you (Yunho)

Yandere!Psycho!Jeong Yunho x Reader

Summary:

He was an amazing man in the relationship, but he had..tendencies..tendencies to do things someone normal wouldn’t do. Like he’s over obsessive. In the beginning he was perfect, flawless even. However, it’s your school reunion, everyone was there, including your old group of friends, which had a few guys in it. Yunho didn’t like it..no..he hates it, he loathes it, the way they touch you when they laugh. Sure, they’re just your friends, but they’re men, men that could steal you away from him. He didn’t want that, he couldn’t have that. Maybe it’s time for his mind to finally break, and give in to his urges. He needs you for himself. What will he do?

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of death, overall yandere behavior, possessive behavior, killer behavior, mentions of torture methods, swearing, this whole one shot is a red flag.

(There are several different song lyrics hidden, and I based the high school on the high school I graduated from. And a thank you to @starillusion13 for editing and being my beta reader. I appreciate it so much.)

——

My brown doe-eyed boyfriend was different, he’s perfect in my eyes, he’s everything I ever wanted. He had a sense about him, it was strange, but I thought nothing of it. He'd usually shower me with gifts, took care of my every need, so there obviously couldn't be anything wrong with him. He was the one I always wanted. He was a perfect one except for his possessiveness. I'm not complaining about this but sometimes it goes out of hand and it gets on my nerves. Maybe I'm thinking too much or he is just too caring to which, am just overreacting.

 My mind could just be wrong about him. He's just a little possessive. Right?

“Yunho? Why did you leave your dirty clothes just left in the middle of the floor?” I yelled over his headphones, my tall and lean, and puppy eyed boyfriend sat in his gaming chair.

I assumed he was playing with friends, but this was ridiculous.

I guess he didn’t hear me since he clearly didn’t answer me. How annoying!

Huffing, I kicked his clothes across the room, boring a glare into the back of his head. Jackass.

Whatever, I have better things to do, than clean up after a grown man.

I left our shared room with a slam of the door.

I was getting too frustrated, I should just relax, ignore my boyfriend's asshole self for the time being.

Plus, I have to get ready for a school reunion. I received the text last week and honestly, I didn’t even think anyone from my high school would invite me. I was a loner then, still am.

I suppose I had a couple friends then, not sure they’d remember me though.

-

“What are you wearing?” I heard a voice approach me from behind. The voice had a sharp undertone in it.

“Yunho! Don’t do that, you scared me.” I placed a hand over my chest. Turning around to see him already staring at me with a dark look on his facial.

“I asked you a question. You should answer it.” Why was he always so authoritative to me?

I rolled my eyes at him, “Seriously? So, now I’m not even allowed to dress how I’d like?”

Yunho's eyes glossed over with anger, "Do not back talk to me, why are you dressed all fancy?" That's it. I've had enough of his damn behavior.

"Fuck you, Yunho, you've been nothing but a dick to me lately,always being so possessive. I am going out, I have a high school reunion. If you don't trust me, even though you should. Then come with me. I don't need or expect this from you." I stood my ground, I wasn't gonna take anymore of his bull crap.

He stared me down for a precise moment before he left the room, to our shared bedroom.

About five minutes later, he'd come out wearing a dark blue long-sleeve button up and jeans. The sleeves of his dress shirt were pushed up to his elbows.

When he dressed like this, he was overly attractive, if only he wasn't a dick sometimes.

Rolling my eyes once more, "Oh, so you do want to come with me. Fine, but please, enough with the possessive behavior."

-

When we had arrived at my old school, my gaze was all over the place, it was smaller than I remembered. Still looked fancy in the front. The football field behind the school was visible slightly around the corner and that was where the event had been organized.

 The front banner said, ‘Welcome back, home of the pirates, class of (XXXX)!’

I looked at Yunho, his grip on the steering wheel had turned his knuckles white, "Um..it said the reunion is on the football field, so just head behind the school." With a nod from him, he pulled the car around the large building.

I don't know why, but I felt this looming sense of danger in the air. I really hope nothing bad happens, especially with the way my lover is.

-

"Y/N!"

Who called me? I don't..

I turned my head to the sound of whoever just called my name out, Yunho trailing extremely close behind me.

"Changkyun?" It was my best friend from freshman year, even though he was in a higher grade. I even had a crush on him then, but of course, I couldn't let Yunho know. Who knows what he'd do.

"Hi, dude, it's been awhile." Changkyun had wrapped his arms around me. I could just feel my lover's glare. This wasn't good. So I pulled away as fast as I could from my former friend.

"Yeah, it has, um, this is my boyfriend, Yunho." I turned around, but stepped back as soon as I saw his face. Yunho looked pissed. Like, it was honestly terrifying. I had never seen this look on him. His demeanor radiating a wave of danger to the cold environment of the late evening.

I mean, it was kind of hot, but something about it also didn't sit right with me.

Changkyun looked up, "Damn, you are tall. I'm Im Changkyun, I was Y/N's friend back in school." He held his hand out, but Yunho just stared at him down. Almost like he was threatened by his presence.

I could feel the tension in the air, maybe I should pull him away from this conversation. Yeah that's the best idea.

I grabbed the taller male's hand, "It was nice talking to you, Kyun, but I think we need to go." I chuckled nervously, pulling my lover away.

-

I stared up at him, "What was that, Yunho? Why were you glaring at him? He didn't do anything to you."

"Yes he did."

"What?"

I can't believe him. Was he serious? He did not just blame your friend for welcoming you there. If he continues being such an overbearing person, you might lose your mind before him.

"He touched what is mine, not his, mine."

There was that sense of dread again. MINE. You loved hearing him calling you his but sometimes that made you uncomfortable as if he was referring to some costly property which he wanted to lock it.

"How about this, what if I killed someone for you, Y/N? Would you love me more? Would that get inside your pretty little head, to show you and remind you that you are mine?" All of the sudden, he was leaning down, he had grabbed my wrist.

Oh my god, his grip was so tight, it felt like my wrist was gonna snap right off, "Stop it, Yunho! You're acting crazy! Let go of me, it hurts." I tried pulling away.

He wasn't letting go, and that killer look in his eyes was back.

"I don't care, what do you not understand?"

He was dragging me to the car, "You know, Y/N, I really cannot decide whether you should live or die. I mean, really. You come here dressed like you're going on a date, you let another man touch what is mine." He was laughing like a maniac.

Was he really going to kill me? No, no, he's just upset with me, that's all. I did nothing wrong though!

"Please, Yunho, stop! I love you! I didn't mean to do this, I didn't know he was gonna touch me." At this point, I was a sobbing mess, there was nobody around to save me.

An evil smirk was etched onto his face, after pushing me into the car, he locked the doors. Trapping me in with a psychopath.

As he sped down the road, the radio was almost blasting, he turned to me. "Maybe I should just crash the car, kill both of us! Or maybe, I could bury you alive, pour acid down your throat."

Why was he doing this? I don't want to die!

"Maybe I should just kidnap your little friend, keep him locked up in our basement. I could torture him for days, I could break him. You can watch!"

"Yunho, stop! I am sorry! I won't talk to him again! Please slow down, you're going to kill us." He was ignoring my pleas. The killer look in his eyes wasn't going to fade anytime soon.

"Oh, are you really? You are mine! Not some fucking tiny ass man can give you what I give you!"

He reached over, unbuckled my seat belt. The car sped up faster, this is it. I'm going to die. "Yunho!"

He was approaching a brick wall at top speed, but just three feet from it, he slammed on the brakes. My head smashed into the dashboard, knocking me out.

-

Cold water splashed onto my face, "Wake up, dear."

"Yun..?"

I had a pounding headache, why did my head hurt so bad? Why can't I move?

With my eyes fluttering open, I discovered I was restrained to a chair. My surroundings were definitely very familiar, it was our basement, but why was I down here?

"What's going on, Yun? Why am I tied up?"

The tall frame of my boyfriend was kneeled in front of me.

"Bad girls don't get to have freedom."

"What are you..oh," I remember now, I remember everything, "I told you I was sorry, why are you still doing this to me?"

"Because. I don't forgive you. Until you realize you're mine and stay away from other men, then I will be the perfect boyfriend again."

I shuddered with fear. I was never going to escape this, was I? I will never truly be free from him. I put myself unknowingly into a toxic relationship with a psychopath.

He gripped my jaw to look at him, "Everyday and night, I’m gon’ chase you. I love you, you should only love me."

I wanted to spit on his face, but I just don't know what he is capable of.

Tears were streaming down my face again, "Please, Yunho! I don't want anybody else, I want you! I only want you. I won't look at anyone else!"

He loosened his grip on my now bruised jaw, "That's a good girl, that's what I want to hear." Yunho chuckled, trailing a finger down my cheek.

"Are you gonna be a good girl for me?"

I shook my head up and down so fast, I swore my head would fall off.

'Yes, yes! I'll be your good girl, Yunho! I promise!"

The killer glint in his eyes faded just as fast as I blinked, "Good."

After untying me, he pulled me into a hug, rubbing the back of my head, before leaning next to my ear, "Because you will never escape me."

Oh no..

[queerponcho]

Transfixed | part 2

previous part | part 3

collage made by me with pictures from pinterest

moonknight!system x female!reader

a/n: Thank you, for all the lovely interactions I got with my first chapter! I'm glad you like it as much as I do and I hope this 2nd chapter meets your expectations&lt;;33

Warnings: no use of Y/N, fluff, NOT beta read, gushing about the moonboys, flustered awkward dorks, plot-twists, Jake being a menace, (eventual smut, the chapters will be marked individually), inaccurate depictions of DID, egyptian mythology and religion (although I did extensive research I took liberty in changing some things to adhere to my plot...), if I missed anything or made any spelling mistakes pls don't hesitate to tell me!

Summary: You haven't seen Jake for a while and are sure you won't ever meet him again. In fact you've convinced yourself to be unbothered by that theory and are planning to live with it. In typical Jake fashion, those plans are to be disrupted with a surprise visit to his new, favourite part of town...

2,700 words

Two weeks later

You continue working on your latest hyperfixated studies in the library and try your best to forget about him. You knew it was probable that you weren't going to see him again. So you quickly went back to drawing the library kitten, when you weren't working at the shelter or studying. You tried your best to stick to the cat and really focus on her cute paws and the green spots in her honey coloured eyes…but even those somehow remind you of him. This of course brings back the feeling of you pressed between the bookshelf and his front. His thumb on your chin and his crooked nose so close to brushing yours…how in the hell were you supposed to forget? Him and his advances rivalled many good romances you had read about. The library was starting to feel stuffy so you decided to take a break from sketching and to go get a coffee in the cute place next door. 

Giving the kitty one last treat before stepping out the door, you turn around to wave the cat goodbye ‘byeee barry! See you again soo-’ you stumble backwards over the sidewalk landing on someone. You’re about to apologise when-

‘we really gotta stop meetin’ like this, nena’ Like in any bad romance you meet him again by literally falling into Jake's lap. You look over your shoulder and see him smirking while resting his chin on your shoulder, making his face be much closer than you had expected. You scramble to your feet and dust off your sweater. Leaving him sitting on the floor. ‘Not even gonna help me up?? ay…que mala’ he tutted. He stands up swiftly, looking very pleased with himself. 

‘Hello to you too Jake, i-if you could excuse me I really need to go get my coffee’ you say while you push past him, walking two steps but stopping when he stands in your way looking almost panicked.

‘W-wait wait darling, let me buy you a coffee…please?’ 

You almost make a comment about the very british nickname but are taken aback by his uncharacteristic pleading eyes. It seemed very unlike him but you weren't about to refuse the pretty man you’ve been pining over. ‘Alright- Sure Jake, let's get coffee’ you say smiling but feeling like something's off. You walk slightly ahead, leading him to the nearby cafe. You can see Jake in your peripheral vision, he looked really nervous, seemed to be twitching weirdly and muttering some intelligible things. Maybe he was just in his head about something...you didnt wanna pay it any mind. You entered the „Moonbean “ café. It was this cute and cosy place with lots of natural light and many plants. After you get your ice coffee and Jake (to your surprise) buys himself a black tea with oat milk and honey, you sit down at a corner booth.

‘Ssso, ahem Jake. Is there anything you wanted to tell me or..?’ you ask, trying to make this situation seem like a normal sircumstance. ‘um yes! Or well no…it's kinda hard to explain but I need to know how you know…well- me..?’ he says while glancing into your eyes intently. ‘...okay, Jake I don't follow..’ you laugh awkwardly. ‘Okay so here's the deal' he rubs his hand over his face distressedly, 'I have DID, also known as dissociative identity disorder a-and we are two people in this system. Marc and Steven- well me! Steven' he takes a deep breath and keeps going. 'So, I wanted to have a coffee with you because we have been feeling like there might be a third consciousness, sharing our body that we don't know about...’ Steven says just a smidge too fast ‘...okay…Steven…what makes you think I have got any information on this third consciousness?’ you ask genuinely curious. You have read about DID but you have never actually talked to anybody that lived with it. 

‘Well…you did call me Jake about five times which leads me to think that erm- you might know a thing or two about him.’ just now you noticed how his entire presence was completely different from Jakes. Jake led with his chest and had a confident smirk practically glued on his face. Steven on the other hand looked tired and like he wanted to hide from any discomfort around him. His shoulders were rounded and his eyes looked like those of a lost puppy in need of a hug, which you were very inclined to give him. Unfortunately for you, his lack of confidence did not make him any less attractive. Which meant you still couldn't tear your eyes away from his features and had to work hard on not embarrassing yourself like last time. Remembering you had to answer him you perked up ‘right, well- I only know him in passing. How come you knew he was at the library?’ you say trying to redirect his attention away from your potentially…strange connection to Jake, don’t really wanna out yourself as a stalker…‘Funny story actually- erm I found this wood-panel in my floor that had a burner phone, gloves, a flat-cap and a small notebook with a folded piece of paper hidden inside. These items confirmed mine and Marc's belief that there might be a third. What surprised us more tho, is what we saw when we unfolded the paper…let me..’ he clears his throat and reaches into his satchel, he hands you the paper but looks to the side, avoiding eye-contact. You unfold it…and immediately want to die. ’oh fuck me- so um- w-what made you think it had anything todo with the- um, library?’ You try to keep your composure but it's very hard when the drawing was of course the sketch he’d taken from your collection two weeks ago. Naturally, he’d gotten his hands on one of the more "racey" drawings you’d drawn of him, you weren't entirely surprised that stalking a handsome stranger could ever come back to haunt you. 

‘So the paper has a footnote printed on it with an address…see? Right here a-above my- well Jakes bound wrists- ahem well yes so then w-we came here and bumped into you…’ his sentence died out and he shyly looked away while blushing. Steven was an adorable man, you were finding it hard to really focus on this serious conversation when all you could think about was how his hair was so unruly this time and his curls were bouncing above his eyebrows, making him look even prettier. How he wears his clothes two sizes too big, hiding his broad shoulders beneath 4 different layers of fabric. You snap out of it ‘so um- any idea who drew it?’ you ask while feeling a warm sensation crawl up your back and your heart-beat increasing ever so slightly. ‘Well- since it’s more…intimate in nature we assume he is perhaps seeing someone..?’ Inhaling sharply you try to stay calm. You really didn't want to tell them that you, a stranger, drew this but seeing Steven so exhausted and distressed convinced you to do the right thing. ‘ um- so..ahhh well…I drew that…’ You closed your eyes and squinted, opening one eye to see Stevens reaction. He was frozen, you swallow strenuously ‘um- Steven..? Everything okay…?’ you ask reluctantly.

 He stares into your eyes and is blushing intensely, looking like a red traffic-light. He's so cute. ‘Yes! I am fine- sorry love, I-I just did not exp-’

 ‘not expect that a total stranger would draw a lewd picture of you? Well, yes I definitely understand that notion’ you laugh. Funnily enough, Steven's nervousness was helping you calm down a bit and not feel as awkward. But something tells you that having this conversation with Jake would've absolutely killed you. ‘Yeah, I also did not expect to immediately run into the artist behind our one and only clue about…Jake, is his name?’

 ‘Y-yes his name is Jake..’ even just saying his name made you feel flustered. Steven noticed your change of demeanour and found it pretty interesting, choosing to interrogate a bit further. ‘Darling- you were saying you know Jake in passing. Would you mind telling us more about the times you saw him? ’

 Were all of this man's personalities into giving you heart-melting nicknames? Maybe someday you’d get to meet Marc well enough to find out… you can’t stop your mind from conjuring up a rom-com-like sequence with them…baking together and going grocery shopping, getting caught making out in your paradise library and going home to keep climbing him like- a hand waving in front of your face interrupts your intriguing daydream. 'Are you okay, love? I know this is a lot to process- if you need a break just tell me, yeah?’

 ‘oh! Yes! I mean no- I am fine. Sure Steven, I'll tell you about Jake.’ You sit up in your chair and begin to tell him about seeing Jake for the first time. He puts his elbows on the table leaning in, not wanting to miss a single detail of your story. 

‘-so yeah then he walked out with this thick leather bound book. It had some Moons carved onto it's cover, that's all I can remember. Then I didn't see him for about a month, until he came back last week to return the book.’ You notice Steven's eyes light up at your mention of the moon-details.

‘he didn't buy the book?’ 

‘he couldn't, the book is a unique scripture and can only be loaned for a maximum of 30 days.’  

‘okay…but something still confuses me. When did you meet him, if he only came back to return the book- and how did he even get the drawing you made of him?’  God, you really didnt wanna talk about this. Maybe you could find a way around actually telling him about what happened, to avoid the embarrassment. ‘Well- he came in and gave back the book. Then he went to look around …and we accidentally bumped into each other. I dropped all my things and he picked up the drawing and kept it without me knowing. We introduced ourselves to each other aand…that's it! Then he left!’ 

‘huh…are you sure that's all that happened?’ He says, his eyes turning darker. you were starting to sweat. You never were a very good liar, especially if attractive people were the ones asking the questions. ‘Mhm! Yeah. That's all’ you haven’t been looking him in the eyes. Jake might have intense and hooded eyes but Steven had impossibly earnest and rounded eyes. You could never lie while looking into such an adorable face. only you hadn’t noticed that the man before you wasn't Steven anymore- ‘hola hermosa. You miss me?’ your head whips back towards him at the familiar nickname. In the short amount of time he had somehow, slid over to your side of the booth. ‘Chiquita…why don't you wanna tell him the truth, ah? You scared he might leave when you tell him about your...stalkerish tendencies? Steven is a smart man, he won't leave such a gorgeous woman behind...’ he winks at you moving closer so your thighs touch.

‘Jake- what is going on. Why aren't you talking to Steven? He’s saying he doesn't know anything about you- fuck me this is all too much’ You say exasperated. You jolt up feeling his breath on your neck. ‘mmh querida i’d love too but I think this cafe might not be the best place for such…improper activities…’ by now he's long moved into your personal space and started caressing you right above your knee, still breathig over your neck. ‘Jake- i-i am being serious I-’ His hand moves up your thigh gingerly and he starts grazing his nose over the spot under your ear. You’ve already forgotten what you were even talking about and why you were even in this coffee-shop to begin with. Your eyes were fluttering and you were breathing deeply trying to stay calm, feeling his hot breath fan over your neck. Once again, trapped between his chest and wooden furniture. He smelled so good, like dark coffee and vanilla, mirroring the bitter sweet smell of Stevens black tea perfectly. If you could buy his smell as a laundry detergent you would douse your linens in it. He circles his arm around your back and waist and lets it rest on your hip. You expose your neck further to him, inviting him in to keep going. You hear him chuckle and wait for him to start kissing your neck. Just as his lips are about to touch you, you feel his hand twitch on your hip, causing your eyes to snap open. You were surprised to see a pair of round and frantic eyes staring right back at yours. 

‘Oh Jesus christ! I am SO sorry, love. I don't know what came over me! P-please I promise. I really can’t contro-’ you cut in before he could continue his panicked rambling. 

‘Steven, it's okay! Don't worry, I-I understand this isn't really something you can control. No need to panic.’ you give him a warm smile which he returns with a blush. Putting your hand on his shoulder trying to reassure him with your gentle touch. His rather dreamy expression gets interrupted by a tense and pensive one. He shakes his head, seemingly shaking off his serious expression. You let go of his shoulder, placing your hand back in your lap.

‘so- just- just based on observations I-I just feel like you might be closer to Jake than you first led us to believe…?’ It wasn't as much a question as it was a statement. You really needed to come clean, even though this would most probably leave you a blubbering, flustered mess.

‘Alright, yes. But it’s not what you think- we never actually did anything intimate…we-we just came a bit close to it like twice or something…’

‘close to what exactly? Darling, i-i don't mean to be rude but we are still talking about things that happened with my body here, so I’d really like to know what happened...?’ You understand why he is getting frustrated but this was really hard to tell someone. Especially because this someone looked exactly like the person who you were just pressed against mere moments ago-

he interrupted your train of thought by calling out your name ‘sweetheart- please. I'm begging you to just tell me what happened’ he takes your hands in his making your arms tingle ‘yes! sorry Steven- this is just a lot to process. Okay i’ll tell you…’ You finally told him about the second “meet-cute”, when you dropped your things because you bumped into Jake after being too focused on his features and had lost sight of him. How he got closer and closer to you and you were trapped between him and the bookshelf. How you, just as before, brushed noses and almost kissed before being forced out of your bubble. After relaying the past events between you and Jake, you looked up from your twiddling fingers and were greeted by a glowing red Steven. He was tugging on the loose skin around his fingernails and had his hands barely peeking out of his too-long sweater, looking right past you. He had a sheen covering his face and couldn’t stop fidgeting. 

‘Steven i am really sorry if i made you feel uncomfortable, if I’d known…I just- I- I don’t think you understand-’ 

Now he refocused his gaze on your eyes and looked even more stunned than before. ‘Sorry to be so forward but- ugh just look at you! How the hell was I not supposed to study you?! You are every artist's dream, with those angular facial features and the inky black curls adorning your head I just can't believe you are this unaware of the effect you have on a room. I know I sound like an absolute cree-’ before you can keep going he cuts you off ‘Would you like to go on a date with me?’

You stopped talking, mouth open without a sound coming out of it. Did he just ask you out?

‘I- if you don’t want too I unde-‘

‘NOno! I mean YES- yes I’d love to go on a date with you, Steven…’ you bit your lip, trying to contain your grin and saw that Steven was doing the same.

You gave him your number and left him alone in the coffee shop. After turning around to wave goodbye one last time you cross the street and walk home. ‘Oh my god’ you giggle to yourself and make your way home.

a/n: I am so happy you guys liked the first chapter of this fic and hope you like this one aswell!! more chapters are comin' with more tension and plot-twists aaand maybe even a certain marc...

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