#A bitch is fighting for her life lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

muniimyg · 4 months

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TO BE (yours) // KNJ

he'll give in... right?

oc has always had a crush on her bodyguard, nam joon. when her monthly family dinner goes to shit, she turns to him for comfort. tonight, it was different. tonight, he just might give her exactly what she wants

navi | m. list | ask me !

pairing: bodyguard nam joon + heiress oc

au/genre:

bodyguard au

one shot

porn with(out) plot

warnings: oc has some grandma issues, oc is insanely unhinged (oc makes nam joon watch as she pleasures herself), masturbation/fingering (oc makes him hold her hand while she fingers herself), nipple play, blow job (oc chokes), slapping (of face and ass) and riding... name calling (joon calls her a slut, whore, and bitch), cockwarming ?? making out,, yeah idk ! find the rest out for urself ;)

note: happy birthday @joonsjuice LMAO

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar

“I hate this fucking life!”

Before you can slam your bedroom door shut, a foot is placed to prevent you from doing so.

You huff, knowing exactly who is following you.

There was no point putting up a fight. Regardless of what you do, you know exactly how he would handle you. So, you move on. You focus on your feelings and the stress wrapped around it. As you take off your skirt and unbutton your blouse, he makes his way to his regular position.

Nam Joon stands beside the door, feet firmly planted on the ground, his hands placed in front, and his gaze straight ahead. If this was any other bodyguard, their presence would irritate you and ignite your anger even more… But this was Nam Joon.

It’s different.

Oddly enough, there's a sense of comfort when he's around. It feels like it's okay for you to be angry and throw a tantrum. He'd cover for you. He'd protect you. He'd deal with you.

Regardless, this is routine.

Once a month, you attend your infamous grandmother’s family dinner. There, you’d share your company’s progress and plans, and receive criticism.

No praise.

No empathy.

No encouragement.

It is never good enough for her. Even though you have a more successful business than your siblings and cousins—it meant nothing To your grandmother, it didn’t matter.

It always better.

To do better.

To be better.

After these horrendous dinners, you’d go home in tears. The pressure she’d put on you is often unnecessary, but you feel it. To your very core, you feel how intense the need to please her is.

Sometimes, you were angry. Often, you were sad.

For comfort, you’d typically contact your family friend, Jung Hoseok for some… Release. Sometimes, it was talking things through. Other times, it included fucking… But those nights were rare.

During those times, Nam Joon would wait outside the door. It made you wonder that night if he liked what he heard… Or if he felt jealous…

If he even gave it a second thought at all.

You see…

You’ve been unhinged since birth. By your grandmother’s orders, she hired a bodyguard service for you. To keep you in check or whatever (as if you’re this wild child that isn’t running the biggest company in your family). To keep you safe. To keep an eye on you. To keep you from doing bad things.

Sucks to suck because the only bad thing you want to do is your bodyguard.

Thank you, Grandma!

When Nam Joon came into your life, it felt like Christmas. He’s tall, handsome, smart, and funny in his own ways. If anything, he’s perfect for you. Aside it being his job, you really feel like he knows you. Your next moves and even your feelings—he’s good at predicting and protecting them.

It’s like not you could hide your intentions and attraction either. No, you take any and every chance to flirt with him.

Truth be told, you really need him to dick you down.

“Crazy how I’m literally changing in front of you and you would rather look at the wall,” you tease, as you unclip your bra and throw it at his head.

Nam Joon removes your bra from his head and continues to stay silent. Him ignoring you is something he does when he knows your emotions are high.

Rolling your eyes, you open your closet and grab your pajamas. You chose wisely, of course… You noticed Nam Joon’s eyes linger a little longer when you wear flimsy things. So, that’s exactly what you wear tonight.

A little ditzy floral pyjama set.

The fabric itself is thin and tight, making it easy for your nipples and the curve of your breast to be outlined. The shorts are practically panties… Guess you won’t be needing underwear either, right?

Once you put on the top, you bend down to take your underwear off. You throw it back, aiming for his head again. Perfectly, it lands just where you want it to.

“Oops! Sorry, I meant to get that in my laundry bin.” You explain, laughing as you put the shorts on.

You see Nam Joon’s shoulders rise and fall. He sighs, as he takes your underwear off of his head and places it in your laundry bin for you.

Cutely, you bump into him as you make your way to bed. Nam Joon purses his lips at you, almost feeling the need to choke when he sets his eyes on your pajamas.

You were doing this on purpose.

He knows it.

Tilting your head at him, you ask, “Do you like it?”

Nam Joon clears his throat as he stands to the side. Gestures at your bed, he ignores your question but replies with; “you’ve had a long day, Ms. ___. Please go to bed.”

“You know what else is long?”

“Ms. ___—”

“Oh, come on!” you whine, as you drop to your knees. “It’s not like this is the first time I’ve asked.”

“It’s also not the first time I’m saying no,” he chuckles. Then, he bends down, grabs you by the waist, and lifts you.

Your heart begins to race as he carries you.

He’s done this only a couple of times—more because you were having a temper-tantrum and he had to remove you from the environment. There was also this one time when you were crying so much at your grandmother’s dinner table that he swooped in like a knight in shining armour. That was probably the day you felt something for him…

A feeling beyond your wet pussy, that is.

Nam Joon sets you gently on your bed. As you lay, you reach for his hand. He turns to you and blinks.

“Joon…”

“Did you need something?”

“You.”

He squints his eyes at you.

“Go to sleep, Ms. ___.”

“Awh, come on!” you cry as he leaves your side. You miss your heart fluttering already. “You don’t even have to make me cum—”

With a warning tone, he interrupts you. “Goodnight, Ms. ___.”

Annoyed, you shift around your bed and attempt to make yourself comfortable. Unfortunately for you, all you can think about are your grandmother’s harsh words from tonight's dinner and the silence of your siblings and cousins whose lips did not even twitch to defend you.

Your grandmother’s invasive words begin to consume you. The feeling is… Horrible. It was rough, to say the least. Maybe, instead of distracting yourself… You could use Nam Joon for something else.

“Do you think my grandma hates me?” you ask with a weary tone.

Nam Joon reaches over to dim your bedroom lights and takes his time to walk back to his placement. As he does so, he thinks about it. This was also routine of you….

To hit on him, to get sad and look for comfort, and then finally go to sleep. It wasn’t every night—just the family dinner ones. On the regular, it would just be you making one or two flirtatious commentaries and then falling asleep as soon as possible.

Moments where you look for validation and comfort he thinks these are the purest moments of you. The fact that you’re about to rest, but can’t because you’re reflecting on the things that make you feel uneasy… Well, let’s just say that it’s on the list of reasons why he hasn’t quit his job. Aside from liking his profession, he also likes you.

There’s never a dull moment.

“I think she just wants you to be the best.” He answers plainly. “She just doesn’t express it well.”

You sigh. “So that means what I do right now isn’t the best? It’s not good enough? Is that it?”

“No,” Nam Joon shakes his head. “I think she expects more because you are more. The potential she wants from you is real because it lives in you. She’s impatient about seeing it, but business is all about growth and building. Ms. ___, you know you’re amazing, right? You’re perfect. Your grandmother could never hate you even though it may feel like it.”

Snickering, you cross your arms. “Are you just saying that because you’re on her payroll?”

“No,” he assures you. “I’m saying it because it’s the truth. Besides, you’re smart enough to know when I’m lying anyway.”

His words hit you.

Suddenly feel better. There’s no other way of explaining why. Sometimes, all you really need is a friend… But being friends with Nam Joon?

You hate that.

“... So, you think I’m amazing?”

Nam Joon doesn’t respond.

So, you try again.

“If I’m so amazing… Then, why don’t you want me? No one’s here, you know! It’s just you and me. Nothing bad is gonna happen… You don’t need to protect me—”

“Ms. ___—”

“I’ve wanted you for so long… You know it too! Come on, I know you just as well as you know me—“

“Highly doubt that, princess.”

“I want to know you… All of you,” you confess, quickly getting out of bed. You stand in front of him and look up at him. Batting your eyelashes, you try to sound as innocent as possible. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

Nam Joon feels a shiver.

He gulps as you place your hand on his chest, slowly moving it around to feel him. In an even slower motion, you begin to slide your hand down from his chest to his abdomen. He lowers his gaze at you as you give him pleading eyes. Gulping, he watches your hands make their way to his belt.

Then, he stops you.

Just as you’re about to unbuckle it, he grabs your wrists and pulls you up.

“I don’t want you.”

His words cut deep and his tone is harsh.

Too harsh.

There’s a look in his eyes that you’re well aware of. In that understanding, you don’t feel so awful anymore. So, you keep your head high. If he wants to play like this, then so be it.

Let’s play.

“Good thing I’m smart and I know when you’re lying.” You then place your hand on his cheeks and squish his lips together. Tiptoeing, you place a small kiss on his lips.

Nam Joon is caught off guard.

This never happened before! It never went this far…

He thought he was immune to you. In a cliché sense, he didn’t this would happen. He’d be an idiot to not recognize that sexual tension between you two since the very beginning—but he never pictured it like this.

He never pictured his dreams to come true.

Just as Nam Joon is about to give in, you pull away.

It’s then that he hates himself. He wishes he spent more time memorizing the way your lips felt against his. Who knows if you’d ever do this to him again, right? This was a once-in-a-million for him.

You’re his one.

“Since you want to stand there and watch… Fine. Stand there and watch.”

Without saying another word, you twirl his tie in your hand and gentle tug him to follow as you make your way back to your bed. Nam Joon doesn’t really move though. He stays still, only letting his head turn as you let go of his tie. He watches with lustful eyes as you crawl onto your bed. Positioning yourself, you lean your back against your headboard and sit up in a way where you can comfortably plant your feet. Nam Joon’s eyes almost fall out of his head the second you suck on your fingers, open your legs, and shove your lubed fingers inside your shorts.

Nam Joon feels stuck.

He should look away, right? For some reason, he can’t. He has looked the other way every time you changed or tried to kiss him… Tonight, was different.

Tonight, he was weak.

As you let out a breathy moan, you begin to rub yourself.

Feeling the way your soft pussy is against your fingers, you whimper at the thought of Nam Joon caving and taking his place in between your legs. You apply some pressure and rub circles on your clit. Doing this begins slowly, but as you stare at Nam Joon in his suit, you can’t help but feel sensations in your pelvis. You rub yourself faster, feeling your legs tighten as you do so.

You rub yourself for what feels like a good 5 minutes. Noticing how quiet it suddenly became and how he’s not making any comments, you take this opportunity to tease him.

With a small voice, you ask, “N-Nam Joon… A-are y-you watching?”

He doesn’t respond.

“Can y-you look at me, p-please?” you stutter through the sensation. “I’m touching my pussy for you… So you have to be watching, okay? This is for you.”

Expecting silence, Nam Joon surprises you with his words.

“I’m watching, princess.”

You feel a relief.

In an even softer tone, you whine, “Good. D-do you like it? Do you like what you see? Am I doing it right?”

“Yeah,” he confesses. “Doing so good, princess. Don’t stop.”

Biting your lip, you spread your legs out even more. As you rub yourself, you squirm from the feeling of this not being enough.

Meanwhile, Nam Joon feels like he’s stuck in a trance. He can’t keep his eyes off of you as you pleasure yourself. He wishes to do it for you… But not yet. A part of him is curious to see how far you can push yourself. How much can you take? How far will you go? He wants to know when he’s needed… He wants to wait it out and let you have this.

“My pussy is leaking through my shorts… Is it pretty?”

Nam Joon’s breath hitches. “Yeah. It’s pretty.”

“I’m glad you think so… I’m thinking of you. You made this mess.”

The truth is, he’s afraid when you give this to him… He won’t be able to quit. He’ll be selfish. He’ll have you any way he wants and ignore what you want. So, this is him being considerate. This is him being patient. This is him letting you have your fun.

“Should I stick my fingers inside?”

He utters a hiss... Yet, with a soft tone, he encourages you, “Do what you want.”

“I need help.”

Nam Joon huffs. “You can do it yourself. If you can start this, you can finish.”

You groan, throwing your head back. “A-arghh, fine… Can you hold my hand though?”

He raises a brow.

But he also picks up his feet and makes his way to you.

He stands on the side of your bed and offers you his hand. Gladly, you take it. With your other hand, you split your folds open. Tugging on his hand, you pout.

“Can you spit on it? I would do it but… Your spit would help me cum faster.”

Too stunned to speak, Nam Joon sucks his inner cheek, runs his tongue along his teeth, and gathers spit from the back of his throat. He then leans over and—

“Mhmm,” you moan, massaging his spit in your pussy. “Fuck, that got me so horny. Are you horny?”

Nam Joon glares at you.

“Hurry up and cum,” he hisses. “ I’m supposed to be watching—”

“You are, aren’t you?”

Nam Joon gets the feeling you’re alluding to something completely different from his job. It makes him sick to his stomach that he’s fucking into it. God, did you have to be this compelling? All he can do is push you away… At least, try to.

“This is getting ridiculous.”

You let a small laugh escape your lips. “Are you serious?”

He shrugs.

“Nam Joon, you’re holding my hand, spitting on my pussy, and about to watch me finger myself… Me asking you if you’re horny is where you’re deciding this is ridiculous—”

“___, just fucking cum already.”

Instantly, you roll your eyes at him.

The attitude.

He needs his dick sucked or something.

In response, you wiggle your fingers at him. He gives you a blank expression and turns away for a moment. You take that as your sign to start. With one finger, you insert it inside you. Your pussy clenches and your reaction extends to you squeezing Nam Joon’s hand. As you finger yourself, you try to focus on hitting your climax.

It’s much more frustrating than it is easy. The man whose cock you desperately want inside of you is just fucking standing there while your fingers do you no justice.

So, in the silence of your dimly lit bedroom, you shut your eyes and imagine him more intensely. You imagine Nam Joon’s fingers inside you. You imagine how his lips would feel against your skin. How his soft tongue would feel like giving your clit kitten licks. You moan at the very thought, and get excited over the fact that he’s actually here. Even though he’s not touching you the way you want right now, at least he was here.

He was watching.

Listening to every whimper.

Every breathy utter of his name.

Then, you feel the sensation in between your legs take over. You pump your fingers faster and lazily begin to rub yourself to finish off. You squirm, murmuring his name in between breaths.

Nam Joon can’t stop watching the way your pussy spreads and how tiny your fingers are. Every time you squeeze his hand, his eyes dart to the way your pussy gets more swollen. On top of that, he loves the way your chest rises. Your nipples are so fucking hard right now.

He’d kill to lick them.

To bite them.

To suck on them.

Fuck it.

Maybe he should fold.

So lost in thought, he misses it. In a blink of an eye, you cum and let out a lewd moan. As you catch your breath, you let go of his hand and massage your pussy.

“Are you finished?” Nam Joon asks.

You let out a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, I guess. It was fun but honestly? I’m still horny.”

“Not good enough?”

“You tell me,” you grab his hand and tug him to your pussy.

He didn’t expect it.

It’s too late for him. By the time he registered what you were doing, his fingers were already inbetween your folds. You hold his wrist and control the way he touches you. Dragging his hands up and down, you feel tingles begin again.

“See? I came, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Nam Joon stutters for the first time tonight. “So wet.”

You scoff. “I usually cum more than this… This is so weird! I don’t get what I did wrong. I thought of you as usual—”

“Princess…” He takes his hand away, signaling you that you’re crossing the line. Shrugging, you offer him an innocent look. “Don’t.”

“Taste me,” you suggest. “If you don’t like the way I taste then you can go back to your little spot over there and do whatever you want. You can keep listening and watching me pleasure myself… But just know, I won’t cum for a long time. I’m horny as fuck but I just can’t get off all by myself! It’s too hard… Deal?”

“Deal? You’re insane,” he grumbles. “Do you hear yourself?”

“I do…” you assure him. “Do you hear me? Because it doesn’t have to be like that. You can stand over there—hey, I’ll even let you jerk off—or you can do it yourself. Make me cum. Fuck me as hard as you can. Take what you want. Your choice.”

Nam Joon gulps as you sit up and wrap your arms around his neck. Tilting your head at him, you look into his eyes and wait for his decision.

Nam Joon waits for a second too long.

Your gaze softens as you take his silence as a no. That’s okay. You can just keep touching yourself and drag it out longer. It’d be fun for you anyway… This was his loss.

As you pull away, just as you’re about to lay down, Nam Joon cups your cheeks and crashes his lips against yours. He kisses you deep, slipping his tongue in. You waste no time, finding his tongue and sucking on it as he pull away for air. You smile against his kiss, and continue to make out with him. His hands travel from your cheeks to your breast and holy shit.

You’re so fucking happy.

He palms your breasts and pays special attention to your nipples. They’re so hard and sensitive. He knows it. So, he takes his time.

First, he pitches them lightly. You gasp and he laughs into the kiss. Mumbling, “sorry, sorry… my bad, princess,” into your kiss. He runs his thumb over your nipples, stimulating your drive evn more. He then twists them and earns another gasp from you. This time, a moan follows. Next, he cups your entire breast with his hands and squeezes them. Pulling away from the kiss, he scrunches your top over your breasts and dives in.

He licks your nipples, slaps your breasts, and bites them.

God, when he bites them—

“O-okay, okay,” you stop him, “gonna need you to start fucking me or else I’m gonna cum with you just doing this.”

“Like me that much?” he teases.

You glare at him. “Might lose interest after seeing your dick though.”

With that, Nam Joon folds.

He towers over you, as your hands instantly make their way to unbutton his shirt. Midway through, he kisses you. It’s deep and desperate—like he has wanted this for so long too.

When his shirt is off, you move on to unbuckle his belt. You do it as quickly as possible, ever so happy to finally be able to see his length. Taking his pants off, he tosses them aside.

You can’t believe it.

His cock is so perfect.

It’s chiseled like it’s meant to be art.

“Okay, y-yeah,” you choke. “I’m interested.”

Before he can even respond, Nam Joon throws his head back from the pleasure of you sucking his dick. Holy shit, you just went for it.

As your mouth wraps around his tip, you take in how he tastes. The precum that sat in the crease of his tip was a little salty. He tastes even better the more you suck. His cock in your mouth is so big. It’s full, girthy, and long. Without needing to try, his length hits the back of your throat multiple times. With teary eyes, you gag, choke, and slobber all of his fat cock.

Like a fucking dog.

Like a fucking bitch.

Like his fucking whore.

Nam Joon loves the sight.

He takes a handful of your hair and fucks himself deeper in your pretty mouth. This time, when his cock hits the back of your throat, he holds you still. You breathe in through your nose, sucking as much of him as you can. When you let out an intense gasp for air, he pulls away and feels his stomach twist as strings of your saliva drip.

Nam Joon repositions you.

He lays down on his back and places you on top of him. There, you let your hands roam his chest as he helps you take your shorts off. His pecks are large and rock-hard. You love the way they feel and as he takes heavy breaths in, you note the way his abs flex.

It’s such a beautiful sight.

“This is what you wanted, right?” Nam Joon scoffs, as he reaches for his dick. He pumps himself lazily before placing it at your entrance. “Want me so bad? Let’s see how much. Do you think you can last bouncing on my cock? You barely lasted 10 minutes fingering yourself. You were thinking about me too, right? Holding my hand and shit? Have you always been a fucking whore?”

You pout, nodding. “Yeah. I am such a fucking whore for you… I’ve been so patient. Did I wait well?”

Without warning, Nam Joon slaps you in the face.

“This is about me,” he growls. “You want me. You have me. You get to fuck me. Get that? You waited, and you got the prize. Me. Shut the fuck up and do your fucking job, slut. I’ll praise you when I want. Don’t ask for it. Understand?”

You nod.

He slaps your face again.

“Answer me, bitch.”

You bite your bottom lip. “I understand.”

“Good,” Nam Joon says, satisfied. “Whenever you’re ready…”

You purse your lips, asking for one more kiss. He kisses you, and as he does so, you take his cock and try to put it in. For some reason, perhaps because of how wet you are, his cock keeps slipping or your hole is just too fucking small for him. When he realizes what’s going on, he sits up a little.

In a low tone, he offers, “Here, I’ll help you put it in.”

You look at him as he guides it in. You watch how soft his gaze turns the minute you sink into his member. You swear he feels the butterflies too. As you adjust to his size, you begin to move a little. Rolling your hips, you also add a little bounce. For stability, you place your hands on his chest.

“That’s it,” he moans, “my slut is such a good girl.”

“Mhmm,” you breathe, “s-so good. You fill me up so good, Joon.”

As you ride him, you begin to feel more and more desperate for his cock to fuck you. This entire time, you had been doing all the work and goddamn it’s fucking exhausting. You slam your pussy onto his dick visciously, picking up the pace and trying to catch your orgasm—but you get so fucking tired.

It’s so annoying.

“I—” you cry, “a-agghhh!”

“I got you.”

Suddenly, Nam Joon wraps his arms around your body and holds you tight. It’s like a hug, but as he does it, he drills his fucking cock into you. Like never before, you feel his length reach spots you missed as you rode him. Nam Joon drills like there’s no tomorrow. It’s so rough and intense, he slaps your ass while he’s at it. You’re constantly moaning, and at this point—

“You like it like this, little slut? Such a fucking whore for wanting it like this… Gonna take my cum? Gonna get so fucked up you can’t walk tomorrow?”

“Mhmmm,” you sob. “Yes, I want it like this. J-just like that! Fuck yes, yes, yes!”

“You think about this, huh? Always imagining how it’d be like for me to fuck you? Are you happy now? Are you fucking happy? Greedy little bitch always gets what she wants, huh?”

“So happy,” you gasp. “I love your cock. You’re so good to me, Joon.”

Something inside him flips. He loves the way you say his name. He loves the way this feels and is even more in love with the way that it’s with you. With that being said…

He fucks you harder.

Rough, sloppy, messy.

It’s so fucking good that you grip onto his hair and let out a few sobs. You murmur his name into his ear and your pussy clenches every time he kisses you. You bury your face in the crook of his neck and concentrate on how blissful this all is. After a few moments—

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god—”

You cum.

But it doesn’t stop there.

Even though you came, he didn’t.

Nam Joon continues to fuck you through your orgasm as he reaches his. Feeling the sensation, he curls his toes and digs his cock deep into you as he releases. Nam Joon stuffs his cum inside you, and pumps in and out a few more times.

Then, he leaves it inside.

As his cum spills, he keeps his cock inside you. Too tired to pull out, but also too in his head. He wants this to last longer than it has. He wants it again if possible… But that’s asking for too much. He knows it.

Without exchanging any words, you lift your face and lean in. You and Nam Joon make out, nice and slow. It’s so opposite from what you two were just doing… But it was nice. You even play with his hair as you two kiss. He likes it. You know he does because he smirks against your lips.

When you pull away, it’s like a wave of emotions hit Nam Joon.

What the fuck did he just do?

He isn’t sure what to say or to do… All he knows is that it was good. It was fun. He had wanted this moment for a while too. Is that something he should regret? Getting what he has wanted and waited for? He doesn’t know.

As you two lay beside one another, you reach for him and curl into his embrace. Quickly, you fall asleep. The entire thing tired you out. Nam Joon contemplates if he should get up and resume to his usual service… Or should he just lay here? Be with you?

Was that an option?

Either way, he knows one things for sure…

He’d be here in the morning.

To protect you.

To fuck you.

To be yours.

#bts one shot #nam joon smut #rm x yn #rm smut #rm bodyguard au #bts smut #bts scenario #nam joon scenario #nam joon fanfic #nam joon imagine #bts imagine #bts pwp #rm pwp

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sheisjoeschateau · 3 months

Text

"Oh, so we DO love Steve... | PART VII

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER VII WARNINGS/NOTES: t.w.'s - strong language, ruthless banter, mentions of death, injuries, end-of-the-world terror talk, newfound shared codependency (but like it's healthy imo also it's valid lmao) jealousy. 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this chapter is honestly a gahdamn MF feast. a favorite of mine NGL, for a multitude of reasons. Murray high key pops the fuck off like the boss bitch he is and takes us on a long lecture of a journey to visit the lordt of truth bombs. Eddie has zero chill. Robin is the bestest-best-fwend and platonic-with-a-capital-p soulmate to our boy. Dustin is a dingus. LUCAS BE SEEIN' THINGS. Hopper is Joppering. Nancy and Jonathan get a clue. Mama Steve and the kids are in full swing. We get a cutie cameo from Harrington's signature yellow sweater.

And our lovebirds finallyyyy......well.....say the magic word that they're feeling hehehe:)

ISSA LONG ONE. PROOFREAD UNTIL MY EYES BLED. IF THERE ARE STILL TYPOS, SORRY BOUT IT. 18+

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Steve knew he would have to face downstairs again at some point before the morning. Definitely before everyone else went to bed. But he couldn’t bring himself to. Not yet.

Because right now, you were fast asleep in his arms. Laid carefully on your back for the sake of your bad shoulder, with your head turned into his chest. Steve was propped up on an elbow, facing you with his other hand gliding his fingertips to trace your arm draped across your chest. He drew shapes up your arm, now adorned with his yellow crewneck, up to your jawline so that he could tuck your hair behind your ear.

And all the while, he just stared at your chest – comforted by the steady rise and fall. It kept him sane. It kept his eyes open. It kept him from letting the nightmare return. You slept so peacefully, he might never have known you’d been dead in his arms earlier that day.

“You are beautiful, Steve Harrington.”

Your words from last night ran through his mind on a loop, like a VHS tape on replay.

“I can’t stand you.”

You’d said it in the warmest voice Steve had ever heard in his life. Somehow, those words meant more to him than I love you. Because when he said it back, he realized it meant the same thing.

“I can’t stand you either.”

I love you too.

Steve carefully placed his forehead against your temple, eyes fluttering shut and breathing you in. Something danced inside of his stomach. It ached, it burned and it warned him of all the things he feared feeling the most for anyone except the girl downstairs who had made love seem lost. He never wanted those feelings to return again for anyone else but her – Nancy. And yet here he was: every one of those feelings rushed back tenfold, for the girl upstairs in his guest bedroom lying beside him. The girl who had ruined the chance at a life for him with Nancy Wheeler. The girl he swore was the reason he was robbed of all things good. Robbed of love. True love.

But he no longer loved Nancy Wheeler.

Steve Harrington loved you.

Downstairs, everyone is quiet but productive.

Joyce is organizing the last of the stashed supplies. The kids are eating some bowls of hot soup, served up by Murray. He had to stay busy and shake off the frayed nerves. Otherwise, he’d go berserk. Completely berserk. Joyce gently helped him but knew better than to baby him. She was surprised to find Erica walking over, offering to help serve up some glasses of water or sodas for everyone. To everyone’s surprise, they operated well. Like chef and sous-chef. What an unlikely duo.

Hopper and El were talking in the living room about the potential new plan, and Mike moved from the table where he sat with the kids and teens to join them.

Steve could hear them all down there, the ambience muffled on the other side of the closed door separating you both from the rest of the world outside of each other's arms. He could have fallen asleep right there with you if he let himself.

But a soft knock on the door made him crane his head to look towards the source of the noise. With one last look at you, he carefully slipped his arm out from underneath you. You never stirred, the rhythm of your breathing still intact and your mind lost in sleep.

Steve wasn’t sure who to expect on the other side of the door. But as he ran a hand through his hair, he found himself not caring.

Turns out, it was Murray. He stood with two bowls of hot soup, now staring into the eyes of Steve Harrington — who he begrudgingly noted still looked dashing, despite his towel-dried bedhead and tired eyes.

Seriously, no one should make a t-shirt and sweatpants look that good.

Your uncle cleared his throat. “Uhh, I made some soup.”

Steve gave him a timid but grateful nod, taking one of the bowls. Glancing back over his shoulder, Murray followed Harrington’s gaze — back at you, sleeping in bed.

“She’s still out,” Steve told him.

Murray nodded. “I’ll keep hers warm downstairs.” An awkward silence fell over Murray and Steve, but finally your uncle continued. “Listen, why not come down? Let her rest, get yourself some water or — a sandwich maybe, to go with the soup. Erica says she’ll make them but I'm reallllly not feeling confident about that.”

Steve allowed himself a soft chuckle at that, biting his lip and glancing back at you.

“She’s alright,” your uncle assured Steve. “Trust me. I keep having to remind myself that, too.”

Steve was glad that the two of them could relate on that — endlessly worrying about you. He was also glad that your uncle wasn’t giving him shit for it, and honestly Murray was extremely pleasant when he wasn’t being an ass. It took Steve by surprise. No wonder you two were related. With a reluctant sigh, Steve agreed to follow Murray downstairs for some more grub.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Steve’s eyes first landed on Nancy sitting with Robin and Joyce. She looked over at Steve with her big blue eyes, which danced with longing. Steve’s doe brown eyes didn’t return it, but he lightly smiled in her direction anyway. Robin immediately perked up, jogging over to Steve from her seated position on the floor. She grabbed him for a tight hug, and he made sure not to spill his bowl of soup.

“Sorry sorry, I’ve just — been worried sick.”

“S’okay, Robs,” Steve murmured, appreciating the comfort. She pulled back to look at him, giving him a sad smile. She wanted to ask him a million questions, but knew it best to save it for later.

“C’mon,” Robin told him, tilting her head towards the kitchen. “Let’s go grab some crackers or something to go with that soup, which you need to eat. Don’t even think about not eating, Steve. I’m serious, okay?”

Steve listened to her keep rambling on as they walked into the kitchen, where Erica and Lucas were bickering about PB&J’s, and Murray stepped in to take back his title as head chef. Eddie and Jonathan were sitting at the dining table, clearly in deep conversation but ceasing once they noticed them walking in. Jonathan gave him a pitying look, while Eddie flashed a dopey grin to try and hide whatever serious talk was just going down.

Dustin, Mike and Will all rounded the corner as Steve moved to sit at the bar. They all sat next to him happily. YAY, MOM’S HOME.

Steve ruffled Dustin’s hair absentmindedly as he sipped on his soup and stared down at his spoon. Erica was shoving a very haphazard looking sandwich in front of him while Lucas told him he’d spit it out after the first bite, which sent all the kids into a frenzy of bickering, lighthearted insults and witty comebacks. Steve sighed, content as he ate several mouthfuls of the sandwich while listening to his kids squabble.

Jonathan was shaking his head over in the corner, observing this. “Guy’s a hero to those kids,” he murmured, only loud enough for Eddie to hear.

“Babysitter turned full-time mom turned hero,” Eddie smirks, amused. “Dude’s a legend.”

Jonathan scoffs, amused but also not. “Wasn’t always...”

Eddie clocks what he means by that. He knew King Steve, too. But Eddie can see a twinge of something else in Joanthan’s eyes, surprised to see it. Jealousy. It’s subtle. Not toxic, or even remotely a threat.

That is, until Jonathan sees Nancy moving to take a sandwich from Erica — her eyes wandering over to Steve and the kids. She looks enchanted, melancholy. Is she sad? Why is she sad?

…why is she sad looking at Steve?

Jonathan’s brow furrows. Eddie decides he better speak up and interrupt whatever he’s thinking. Because he sees it too. Uh oh.

“Trust me, he was a dick. I know. Told him so myself.” Eddie tries to make light of it, grinning. “But I think sometimes…some folks just need a big thump on the head. Shit, I did. I used to run away from alllllll my problems. Hell, I…I’ve even had my share of making others feel small, just so I can feel big. Not in a bad way, though. Never mean. Just…immature. Y’know? Point is, I’ve been there too. Maybe not as big a dick as Harrington…” He snorted. “No pun intended.”

Jonathan whipped his head in Eddie’s direction. What did that mean?

Eddie quickly tried to cover up his reference to the Hawkins High heartthrob’s manhood. “I just mean, I just mean — like — we’ve all been dicks. You know? Big ones. Small ones. Medium…sized…ones.”

He counted at least 5 perplexed blinks from Jonathan. Eddie sighed, exasperated with himself. “The point, the point. We uhh…we live and we learn. Right?”

Jonathan finally let his tense shoulders loosen up at that, but he glanced back at Nancy – who was still watching Steve as she got herself a glass of water and letting Robin ramble to her. And Jonathan also watched Steve, who was now telling Dustin to share the box of crackers with everyone and not hog them from everybody.

It began to click for Jonathan. The longing stares. The unusually strained affection between him and Nancy, ever since he got back. He knew that was partially his fault, if not entirely his fault, given him pulling away from her after moving to California. But then he got back to Hawkins, and realized the second he saw her that he’d been a fool to think he would ever be better off without her, or convince himself that she could be better off without him. One look at her made it all go away. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and Jonathan was definitely aware of that now.

But had it made Nancy’s heart grow fonder, too? For Jonathan?

…or had distance made her heart grow fonder for someone else…

Someone else who she had distanced herself from once before, when she found love and comfort in Jonathan Byers’ arms. Harrington had been away from Nancy when she was around Byers, and then Byers was away from Nancy when the world went to shit again, putting her back around Harrington again. No Byers in sight.

…was this karma? Jonathan Byers was beginning to wonder that. Was this what he got for so confidently whisking Wheeler away from Steve back in high school? Is this what he got for thinking he was safe?

…maybe that is what Steve meant when screaming at him earlier, as they tried to pump you back to life.

“DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING STOP.” Jonathan would never forget the way that Steve’s sounded as he spewed at him. Broken, anguished and betrayed.

“IT’S NOT WORKING,” Jonathan had wept bitterly. “IT’S TOO LATE.”

When Nancy had chosen Jonathan, Steve never got mad. He never got mad at either of them. He told Nancy he got it; that it was okay. And he never said anything to Byers about it. Next time they ran into each other, it was just tense silence. Steve might have picked a fight with Jonathan once before, that damn morning in the alleyway when Will was still missing. But that was 2 years ago now, and it felt childish compared to everything that had happened since then. Steve’s anger then was so subdued to what it could have been, and he never explored anger towards Jonathan once he had successfully managed to take his girl.

But the way that Steve Harrington looked at Jonathan now, while you were dead beneath their hands, was fueled by anger. Red hot and flaming. He looked ready to finally unleash on Jonathan, ready to blame him for his existence and how it only brought Steve grief. For once, Steve Harrington looked rightfully angry with Jonathan Byers for being the source of his pain. Steve looked ready to punch him square in the jaw and beat him up the way he’d had his own face beat up by not just Byers, but also Billy Hargrove and the Russians.

“DON’T SAY THAT. NO ONE GAVE UP ON YOUR BROTHER, YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST GIVE UP ON US NOW? THINK ANY OF US WANTED TO STOP WHEN WE THOUGHT IT WAS TOO LATE? FUCK YOU, BYERS. FUCK YOU.”

Jonathan deserved it. He completely deserved it. All of it. It had been a long time coming, and while it was over 2 years past due…he took it. All of it. Even what was still left unsaid. Jonathan let Steve verbally rip him to shreds before Eddie took over and brought you back to life with Steve instead of him.

And that’s why now, as Jonathan watched Nancy catch him staring at her — looking caught as she tried to give him a smile — he let it happen. He just gave her a reluctant smile back, accepting his fate. Because now, after what he had seen today, he realized that Steve wasn’t even a threat. Maybe a month or so ago, he would have been. But that wasn’t the case now, which he only knew after seeing the way that Steve clung to you and sobbed uncontrollably over your lifeless body – then afterwards, when you were alive again.

Steve no longer pined for Nancy Wheeler. He pined for you.

Not for long, though. Honestly, it was as clear as day that whatever was going on between the two of you was mutual. The way you held Steve earlier, comforted him — assuring him that it was alright, you were alright — and how you stroked his leg in the living room before he helped you upstairs and disappeared for a couple of hours into your assigned guest room… Jonathan knew, along with Eddie, that Steve Harrington’s heart was in your hands, and yours was his.

It’s what Jonathan and Eddie had brought up at the table. Not the whole “why hasn’t Steve unleashed his anger on me until today” aspect of things. But the fact that you and Steve, who seemingly could not stand each other, now seemed like a pair.

Nancy moved to sit next to Jonathan, who awkwardly poked at his soup bowl and did his best to fake a smile. Eddie watched them, knowing. Man, he could really use one of his guitars right now to pluck out the tension…

Lucas was saying something about Max needing to be checked on upstairs, which made Steve quickly shove the last of his sandwich into his mouth so that he could come help him and Erica along with Will, El and Mike. They all made their way up, and Dustin stayed behind. He moved over to the big kids table, bringing the box of crackers over with him. He plopped down next to Eddie, who was grateful for the comic relief after the tense talk at the table. Robin moved to bring over fresh cups of coffee, sitting between everyone.

“So uhhh, we gonna talk about it?”

Dustin’s question made everyone freeze.

Robin cocked an eyebrow, leaning onto her elbows to sip her coffee. “About what…?”

“About Bauman and Steve, and how we all clearly did not see it coming.”

Robin choked on her coffee. Nancy stiffened next to Jonathan, which he didn’t miss — considering her hand was resting on his forearm. Eddie drummed the table awkwardly while nodding and staring straight ahead at absolutely nothing.

“Yeeeeeee-up, caught me off guard,” Eddie said. “I’m normally good at picking up on that shit.”

Robin was still working on clearing her throat. “Look, we don’t know anything yet —”

“He’s literally your best friend, Robin,” Dustin accused with an eye roll. “If any of us know, you do.”

“Well my strange, tiny friend,” Robin quipped wryly, “I’m afraid I’m just as in the dark on this as you are.” She sighed, leaning back in her seat with a flash of concern in her eyes. “I really should have seen it coming, though. I was so sure he was just gonna keep on hating her guts.”

“I still don’t understand why he hated her at all,” Dustin said, adorably naive.

Eddie smirked, uneasy. “Meh, not important.”

“Seriously, they got along just fine whenever we fought the demodogs,” Dustin continued, oblivious. “And at the snowball, but then after that he just – went at it with her all the time, even though they would both still hang out with us. Like an old married couple.”

Nancy listened intently, trying to keep up and put the pieces together. Because truly, she herself had been wondering what changed. But she had been so focused on her life, in her own world with Jonathan and their jobs, she really hadn’t paid much attention to the fact that you and Steve had gotten along at the start, then not at all, and now…well…

Robin puffed out a breath of air. “Maybe they’ve just…gotten closer. You know, found a way to get along. Murray’s an ass, and even though she’s not and I love her, Steve’s not exactly the easiest to get along with even though I love him —”

Dustin scoffed. “Robin. He kissed her.”

Eddie clicked his tongue, trying to think of Metallica lyrics and avoid looking in Nancy or Jonathan’s direction.

Robin stared. “What?”

“When?” Nancy’s voice startled the room, and Jonathan seemed to cringe at it.

“Dustin,” Jonathan sighed.

“Today,” Dustin kept talking. “Whenever we…brought her back. He — he kissed her. He literally bawled on top of her and wouldn’t let her go.”

Dustin’s eyes lost all of the annoyance, now looking sad as he thought back on it all. Robin stared at him along with Nancy, barely breathing. Even Eddie looked over at him.

“I’ve never…I’ve never seen him that upset,” Dustin murmured. “Steve’s never sad. Not like that. I’ve never even seen him cry. Not once. Robin, did he ever cry while you both got tortured in the Russian chambers?”

Robin thinks back on that, gnawing at her lip, deep in thought. She shook her head, realizing… “No. No, he didn’t. Just – panicked, but not…he didn’t cry.”

“Exactly,” Dustin says. “Because he’s awesome. He’s brave, and cool, and awesome. Steve doesn’t cry. Today? He bawled.”

“Seeing someone die in front of you does that, man,” Eddie pointed out, melancholy. “I know I did whenever Chrissy died… You cried today. I did. Byers did.”

“Not like that,” Dustin insisted, voice firm. It made everyone go quiet again. “Not like that,” he repeated. “That’s how I would have cried if…like, if Suzy died. Or how Lucas did when Max died before we got her back. How Hopper and Joyce would. How Jonathan and Nancy would.”

That made the present couple go stiff. But Jonathan nodded, eyes boring a hole into his coffee mug. “S’true,” he mumbled. “If that were you, I would.”

Nancy looked at him, eyes guilty. Of course, it was the same for her. But she couldn’t focus on that right now. Not now that her collective thoughts and observations were confirmed. Now that she knew for sure…

“It’s not a matter of if they’re into each other,” Dustin kept going, certain. “It’s a matter of when. When did it start and how were we blind?”

But no one could answer that. Robin couldn’t, and she was shocked that she couldn’t. She knew her best friend all too well. How had she not seen this coming? How could she not have sensed that his never ending hatred towards you was slowly developing into liking you? Maybe even loving you…?

Eddie had only started sensing it that day. Until then, he had been the one to encourage Steve to go after Nancy. To get her back, win her over. But that stopped whenever Jonathan came back into the picture, of course. He knew better than to cross that line. Still, he knew that Harrington loved her and pined for her. He also knew why Harrington couldn’t stand you, along with Robin. They adored you, hoping at some point that you both could just become friends who tolerated each other. Eddie never thought it would become more than that: a civilized friendship.

And Nancy felt something heavy sit on top of her chest that she really could not seem to accept yet: the truth. She lost Steve.

“Alright, guessing game is over.”

Murray’s voice rounding the corner made everyone jump, and he eyed down everyone at the table as he walked in with his empty soup bowl. He made for the sink, turning on the faucet with his eyes still glued to the five people seated at the dining table, who stared back awkwardly. Finally, he looked down as he washed his dish.

“Take it from the witchdoctor of love: those two had it coming.”

Eddie cocked an eyebrow, completely amused.

Jonathan, however, was not. This was so karma.

“...had what coming?” Dustin asked.

Robin shot him a look — bless his little naive heart.

“Psh, c’monnnn,” Murray said, rinsing the bowl. “The sexual tension. The incessant arguing. Harrington’s personal utmost disdain towards her.”

Nancy spoke up, unable to help herself. “But…why though? She didn’t do anything wrong. Why would he have disdain towards her…?”

Jonathan hated how irritated Nancy’s question made him feel towards her. It irked him deeply, but he just let it fester quietly as he sat there staring down at his cup of black coffee and having no choice but to listen.

Murray looked at Nancy with the most condescending expression, uncensored as fuck. “Honey…really?”

Off Nancy’s clueless expression, Murray rolled his eyes in the back of his skull as he slapped the faucet off before whirling to face them.

“Once upon a time, two years ago: you and Jonathan came over to my bunker — uninvited — waltzing your way into my business, along with my niece’s. Thankfully, to our benefit, you helped us crack the case and — not so much to our benefit — onboarded us into your mess. But rewinding back a few slides, you two stayed over because of the vodka coursing through all of our veins and tried to convince the two of us — AKA yourselves — that you two were just friends. Which was the biggest load of unbelievable bullshit you both could have told me, and that’s after you told me everything pertaining to the absurdity and pure insanity regarding the upside down. But really, it was a great belly laugh for me and my niece, so thank you. Thennnn, my niece offered to let you both take her bed — not buying a lick of it, and suggesting you both stop being in denial. On top of that, as a former student at Hawkins High, she knew King Steve very well. She knew how Wheeler and Harrington both started dating, and how much closer the two of you —” (he gestured between Jonathan and Nancy) “— had gotten since Will Byers went missing then got rescued. Because my niece isn’t stupid. She could’ve been class valedictorian if she’d wanted to, but — being like her cynical uncle — she didn’t wanna. She’s a street-smart annnnnd booksmart cookie. She knew you both were bound to let the trauma bond get you both together, and that genuine love had formed between the two of you way more than it had between her and Steve. So she called it out, after being fed a bunch of coo-coo-bananas nonsense from you guys in my casa about being 'platonic.' "

Eddie's jaw was practically touching the table. This was literally the best story he's ever heard, and it had just freaking started.

Robin felt like she was watching a movie in her mind, one in which her best friend was the main character and she was rooting for him like life depended on it.

"Fast forward to the lab, El’s grand return, Will’s exorcism, the demodogs, the Snowball, and our little house party that followed —” (he pointed at Dustin) “— you forgot that part — turns out, Jonathan Byers can’t take his liquor, so what does he do? He goes over to my niece, who’s standing in the kitchen — like so,” (he gestured to himself) “ — and starts profusely thanking her in a string of loud, slurred, drunken words, about how he was chosen one, and how he got the girl, alllllll thaaaaannnksss toooo myyyyyy niiiieeeeeccccce."

Nancy's blood ran cold. What?

"And because it was such a small house, no offense Henderson, unlike Casa Harrington — the king himself heard it all. Every lick of it. So of course, who’s he gonna hate with a fiery burning passion more than he ever could hate Jonathan Byers for stealing his girl? The person who told him to do it. Myyyyyy niece. Because he can’t hate Nancy Wheeler, never-ever-ever could he hate the girl he swore was the love of his life. And he couldn’t even hate Jonathan, because what had he done except be the victim of King Steve’s incessant bullying and his horrible posse of friends in high school while his brother was missing in another dimension? But Steve had to hate someone. To loathe someone, blame someone, more than himself. So he chose her. He chose my niece — and by extension me, but mainly her. Because she was a part of the gang now, and around way more than I ever have been around you kids. Which is to be expected. So blah-blah-blah, hate-hate-hate, fight-fight-fight — soooo muchhhh traaaauma.”

Murray paused for dramatic effect, soaking in everybody's faces, then continued.

“...and what happens when there is trauma?... bonding. Trauma bonding. Forced alliance. The need to put aside your differences, so that you all can just get along and survive. And that leads to talking…which leads to more fighting…eventually, tears. Lots of ugly words that can’t be taken back. And then…suddenly…” Murray snaps his fingers. “Common ground.”

No one has made a sound, hanging onto Murray’s every word.

“Vecna ends the world. At least, Hawkins. We all somehow manage to survive it. We all need somewhere to goooo…and we wind up here. In a house, all underneath the same roof. Forced to coexist. Therefore, newfound respect and understanding is acquired when in close quarters. Just as the two of you, Ms. Wheeler and Mr. Byers, found in my bunker. Steve and my niece found themselves forced to live with one another, the space between them closing in. Gap by gap, inch by inch…until…”

Murray made a gesture that looked like that of a magician, everyone’s eyes following. “Magic.” He walks closer, slowly. “Some small talk becomes bigger talk. Some childhood trauma that decorates the walls of Harrington’s house becomes the topic of conversation. My niece just so happens to be a really good listener, and Steve happens to be in need of one. They both discover they’re the only child in both their families. His parents are absent. Hers were barely ever present, before surrendering her to both mine and my mother’s care. But she doesn’t mention that yet, no — why? Because she’s listening. Relating. Understanding. Meanwhile, Steve feels heard. Seen. Relevant. Important. Like maybe whatever he has to say matters. Fast forward some more, blah-blah-blah…some more co-parenting later…which honestly, is the only reason those two maintained some sort of peace in the first place — aside from the inevitable perils that we all have had to face and be paid to keep our mouths shut about…”

Murray points to Dustin, who stares at him — agape.

“You kids are the damn glue holding those two doomed enemies-soon-to-be-lovers together. Not that you knew that. You’re kids, and you don’t know that shit yet. Which is good. And they love that. Steve might hate her, but he’s not gonna make you kids hate her. And she finds him infuriating, but she isn’t gonna let you all know that by persuading you to feel the same. Because he loves you rugrats, and you all love him…and you rugrats love her, as she loves you. Fast forward to a night when all the kiddos are fast asleep, and the adults get a night to themselves with some cups of chilled vodka that fuels everyone’s laughter and newfound liquid courage — but just enough to give a light buzz, rather than sloshed drunkenness — the enemies, who’ve now become somewhat of friends…realize that they feel more. Or at least, that’s what I observed. Grilled my niece about it, that night before bed — and next thing you know — she is the victim of Uncle Murray’s love-talk lectures. Just like you two were. She’s swearing up and down that she cannot stand Steve, and that he cannot stand her. She insists they are mortal enemies. That he hates her. Will forever hate her. And then…that rambling turns into truth. Admittance. Denial, still. But it’s enough to go off, allowing me to paint the picture and speak the truth into the world out loud: WE DO LOVE STEVE.”

Nancy freezes at that, eyes wide and heart blue. She swallows thickly, and Jonathan feels sick.

Murray's conductor waving hands settled down, ready for the grand finish.

“...someone had to love Steve. But it wasn’t you, Ms. Nancy Wheeler. Not forever, anyway. Not in the desperate, novel-esque ways we all read about or see in the cinemas. But it was her. You liked Steve, so that she could love Steve. And he loved you, so that he could hate her…only to realize that he loved her. Deeply...madly...and truly.”

Murray leaned back, letting his rant come to a full stop. The air was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Mouths agape, brains fried and heartbeats racing. They were stunned into shocked silence. With a sigh, Murray made for the fridge.

“Do me a favor…” He grabbed some juice, along with the vodka, pouring himself a cup. Then, with a severe look in his eye, he faced the group again.

“Don’t make a damn fuss about it yet, yeah? Not yet. Not to them. Wanna do it with each other, go ahead. But maybe lay off them for a bit, will you? Hmm?”

Everyone was surprised at the uncharacteristic parental tone in Murray’s voice and the look in his eyes. They felt parented now.

“Maybe let the shock of this newfound realization they both just came to accept barely before my niece stopped breathing today…I dunno…simmer down a bit, yeah?”

Dustin gulped, nodding. Robin did, too. Eddie had pretty much bitten his nails down to stubs at this point, and Jonathan had shrunk so far down into his chair he was practically on the floor now. Meanwhile, Nancy looked like a heartbroken child who’d just been told that Santa Claus wasn’t real. With that, Murray raised his glass of jungle juice and exited the kitchen — vanishing, leaving the group to sit there in their own unsettled energy.

So when Lucas, Erica and Steve all shuffled back down the stairs, it alarmed them. Robin stared at Steve and the kids, while Eddie rose to stand and grab the box of crackers from Dustin. Jonathan swigged his coffee. Nancy just stared at Steve helplessly.

“Alright, who needs more food before we all turn in for the night?” Steve asked as he moved to put away the sandwich fixings with Erica.

Nobody spoke, making Lucas look at them with a quizzical expression. Erica did the same, stopping as she went to put the sleeve of bologna back into the snack pan. Steve had been busy picking up discarded bowls and plates before he finally looked at everyone, too. He cocked an eyebrow, confused.

“You, uhhh…you guys okay…?”

Robin tried to speak, choking on air. Steve squinted at his best friend. Finally, she found her voice. “Sorry. Got the jitters. Too much coffee.”

She stood up hastily, collecting everyone else’s cups — even Jonathan’s, who was mid-sip. Robin avoided Steve’s gaze as she dumped them into the sink with a very fake, wide toothy-grin. She hummed while rinsing the cups, and Eddie clapped his hands together when rising to stand himself.

“Better, uhh, go re-dress my, uhh — dressings.”

“I got you,” Robin said, splashing the hot water and dropping the sponge so that she could hurriedly dry off her hands and follow Eddie out of the room – giving Steve a quick kiss on the head. He watched her go, curious.

But then he saw Jonathan and Nancy sitting over at the table still, along with Dustin — who was staring back at him sheepishly. The curly-haired kid stood up, clearing his throat and shuffling over with the now very-empty box of crackers. He whistled while tossing it into the garbage and moved to finish the dishes. That definitely made Steve raise an eyebrow. But he figured it was out of pity, so instead he just gave the kid a pat on the back and ruffled his hair before going back to tidying up the kitchen.

Nancy felt queasy. Really queasy. And looking at Steve was not helping, especially being seated next to Jonathan. She rose to stand, making him look at her back with queasiness of his own. He watched the back of his girlfriend as she started to turn to look back at him…and when she couldn’t, it made his heart sink. She walked towards the living room, disappearing behind the wall. But not before passing by Joyce, who made her way into the kitchen to give Steve a motherly touch on the arm.

“Dr. Owens will be here first thing in the morning,” she told him, reassuringly. “Real early. Probably 6AM. Hopper’s letting Murray know.”

Nancy refused to let herself cry that night about Steve Harrington and her newly unrequited love.

Jonathan watched his mom comfort Steve, and while it made him grateful it also made him sad. Steve sighed with relief as he thanked Mrs. Byers, and when his mother began to help him find some temporary pain medication that Dr. Owen’s instructed her to give you, he decided he couldn’t listen anymore and left.

“You don’t think there’s anything wrong with her, do you?” Dustin asked. “You know, heart-wise or anything…?”

“She’s gonna be fine,” Joyce told him sweetly, rubbing Steve’s back as he leaned against the kitchen counter with a tense back. “Her heart, her shoulder, her mind. Everything.”

Steve took deep breaths, and Erica would have hugged him if she weren’t so profusely against giving anyone any sort of physical affection.

Lucas, however, did move to squeeze Steve’s shoulder next to Joyce. After all the comfort he’d gotten from him after Max died, then got brought back…and still received, with her being in a coma…Lucas understood Steve’s pain.

No one knew it, but Lucas had secretly caught onto Steve’s feelings for you whenever he went to visit Max in her room one morning but heard you both sitting in there. Selfishly, he’d stayed behind the cracked door to listen in…and it made him freeze in place. They way you and Steve bonded, despite all the rivalry between you both. The way you both spoke to one another in Max’s presence, like she was keeping the storm at bay despite being asleep. Lucas felt as though he was listening to a conversation taking place between two fighting parents, who were finally finding common ground. He had secretly listened like a little kid, leaning against the wall, giddy and heartbroken at the same time. Lucas wasn’t sure why, but he knew. He just knew. You two were crazy for one another. Maybe because he and Max had their struggles, too. Maybe something about the way Steve pushed you, and you pushed Steve — maybe it reminded him of them, just as older teens. Steve was his hero, and you were Max’s. He would give anything to talk with her about it, to hear whatever she had to say about the two of you…the unlikely duo…

But he didn’t say anything about it. He felt it best not to push anything. Not yet. When Max woke up, he would. But maybe now, he wouldn’t have to. Because Steve had been faced with the possibility of losing you. And if he was gonna mess that up, then that's preposterous. Then Lucas would say something.

***

That night, Steve crawled back upstairs and ran into Robin coming out of his bedroom, having just discarded Eddie’s only wound dressings in the hallway bathroom and changing into her pajamas. She was staying in Steve’s room, per usual. And she wondered if she might have just caught him coming upstairs to sneak into your room and not his. At this rate, nothing was a surprise anymore. Thanks, Murray.

“Hey, dingus,” she grinned. Steve grinned back.

“You gonna finally get some sleep?” he asked her.

“Yeah,” she nodded, gesturing to the blankets in her hands. “Was just gonna go give Eds some fresh blankets.”

“Lemme know if you need help with that, seriously. His wounds, I mean. I’ll have Dr. Owens check on him tomorrow too, whenever he comes to check on Bauman.”

Robin nodded, biting her lip. God, she wanted to ask him so many questions. Hug him. Tell her best friend to spill the damn beans. Demand him to cry, to break down in front of her. To scream. To laugh. Anything.

“Robs, you good?”

“Steve, I love you,” Robin blurted. “Like – love you to death. Best friends forever. Just — just…” She bit her lip some more, trying really hard to think before she speaks. Steve waited patiently, a bit nervous. Robin sighed. “Just know that…I’m here. And I’m always gonna be here. Supporting you, with…whatever you need. Even if that’s to shut up and just help you with something and not ask you any questions. Alright…?”

Steve’s eyes sparkled, and he stitched up the distance between them to give her the tightest of hugs. His best friend of a soulmate. Platonic with a capital P. Robin hugged him back fiercely, dropping the blankets. She sagged with relief. Thank God.

“Don’t wait up for me,” Steve mumbled into her hair.

“Cool.”

“Bed’s all yours. Spread out. Starfish. Steal all the covers.”

Robin snorted into Steve’s shoulder, squeezing him tighter. “Okay. Cool, yay.”

Steve chuckled too, squeezing her to death. He really did have the best friend in the world. They swayed a bit like that for a moment, content and comforted in each others’ embrace. Then finally, Steve pulled back and Robin ruffled his hair. He rolled his eyes, swatting at her lightly as she grinned wide. Scooping down to pick up the blankets, he handed them back over to Robin. She smirked.

“Is she a cover hog, too?” Robin teased.

“Didn’t you say you wouldn’t ask questions?”

Robin saluted, making her way towards the stairs. “Sir, yes, sir.”

Steve could finally breathe for the first time all day, aside from whenever you were safely in his arms. Knowing that he had his best friend on his side without needing to have a full blown conversation about anything yet…that really helped lighten the load a bit. He exhaled deeply, letting the relief seep into his bones as he made his way to his bedroom door.

***

Once inside, Steve felt his heart swell. There you were, tucked in bed still, sleeping peacefully. Steve walked over to crouch over and kiss your forehead, gently stroking your hair. He noticed you seemed to still be in the same position. Almost like you hadn’t moved at all. He looked at the clock. It’s…been hours. Several hours. At least 4. He looked back down at you, seeing how still you were in the dark.

His heart stopped. Were you too still?

Steve placed a trembling hand underneath your nose, too shaky to be able to tell. But when he felt nothing, he frantically grabbed your wrist — yanking it off your chest to feel for a pulse —

You moved, stirring awake and looking at him groggily. Steve just about collapsed, clutching your hand and bringing it to his lips as he sunk down onto his knees.

“Jesus Christ,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand and another to your palm.

You groaned lightly, moving to turn towards Steve and yawning. He melted.

“How long have I been out…” you asked him sleepily.

“Hours,” he told you. “Which is good. You need sleep.”

You sighed, eyes fluttering tiredly. “M’hungry.”

That made Steve grin ear to ear. “I can fix that. Want me to bring it up here?”

A grin slowly made its way onto your face too, and you nodded gratefully. Steve squeezed your hand, leaning forward to peck your forehead and your nose and your lips before promising you he would return.

When he did, he came back with the bowl of hot soup that your uncle had kept warm for you along with water and some pain medication. You were sitting up now, leaning against Steve’s chest as he sat with his legs caging you in and leaned up against the headboard. You had just taken the medication a few minutes earlier, now sipping on the hot soup and a tall glass of water that Steve held onto for you.

The little bedside table lamp cast a soft glow in the Harrington’s upstairs guest bedroom, and the sound of light rain outside of the window filled the room along with the plink of your spoon against the soup bowl. Steve felt grounded as he kept his arms around your waist, circled around you as he held you close. His chin sat on top of your head, and the scent of his lavender shampoo in your hair filled his senses with peace.

“What’s your favorite color?”

Steve’s question surprised you as you slurped another spoonful of soup, but you swallowed and felt the corner of your lip twerk up into a little smile.

“Yellow.”

Steve felt himself smile at that, squeezing you a little tighter. “Guess this shirt was a good choice, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m glad you bought two. Rich kid perks ain’t so bad.”

There was lightheartedness to your tone that Steve found himself adoring. Craving, and yearning to hear more of – should time be on all of your side, in this godforsaken town.

“I wonder if Vecna’s rockin’ my other one down there.”

“Nah, the dogs are.”

Steve snorted, giving your hips a little squeeze and pressing a kiss to your temple. You sighed against him, sinking back and placing the bowl of soup onto your lap.

“What’s yours?” you asked him curiously, watching the shadow of the raindrops on the ceiling as they slid down the window.

“Blue. Sky blue.”

You hummed, placing one of your hands that sat on your stomach onto his and interlacing yours fingers. “Like a pretty, non-upside-down clear blue sky?”

“Schyeah, that.” Steve rested his chin back on top of your head as he glanced out the window, the black sky and rainfall sending a shiver down his spine. He wondered if the world would ever feel normal again…

Steve decided to ask you more normal questions, wanting to pretend that none of the dystopian reality just outside his house was real — just for one night. He asked you what your favorite movie was, shocked to find that you loved romcom’s. Especially Endless Love, Pretty in Pink and Working Girl. He wasn’t sure why he thought you’d say dark movies, or maybe sci-fi hits. Maybe Steve didn’t know what he expected you to say. But regardless, your answers fascinated him. He loved learning why you thought Sigourney Weaver’s character was misunderstood in Working Girl, which led to you both discussing women in the work force and how they should receive higher pay – equal to the men. Steve agreed with you, liking how passionate you were about it yet graceful and humble at the same time. You were smart, but somehow underestimated. It was strange. You were strange. Turns out, he loved ‘strange.’

And it also turns out, Steve liked not only action flicks — but dramas, too. Footloose and Baby Boom were on his list of guilty pleasure movies.

“Baby Boom??” you asked incredulously. But you weren’t mocking him, rather genuinely intrigued and amused.

“Hey, it’s adorable,” Steve defends himself with a fake scoff. “She adopts a damn baby and raises her as her own. Be nice.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, tilting your head back to look at him. “God…no wonder you love those kids so much. You’re a natural born mother.”

“Okay but seriously, since when did I become mom and not dad?”

“Apparently, I’m dad.”

“Again: since when?” Steve's tone made you chuckle deeply.

You and Steve talked until your tongues were tired, eventually having moved to lean back onto the pillows. He rested his head into his palm, propped up on an elbow and stroking up your side as you both enjoyed innocent pillow talk. Softly spoken voices, hushed just enough to hear one another. Real hearty laughter that you both muffled into your palms, or each others’ necks, so that you wouldn’t wake anyone. Sweet confessions about food preferences, least favorite holidays, questioning religion while wanting to believe in a god. How Steve thought that vodka was the kiss of death, while you found cigarettes to be disgusting. Steve craved strawberry ice cream, while you were a sucker for plain old vanilla. He loved diners, and you did too. He swore pancakes over waffles, and you made it very clear that French toast was the clear winner. It was a give and take conversation, and you both found it resulted in far more agreements than not. It was the loveliest conversation that either of you’d had in years. Maybe ever. Not just with each other…but with anyone at all.

“So…six kids and a Winnebago, huh?”

Steve’s eyes danced in the moonlight, looking at you with pure adoration. Shyly, he tucked your hair behind your ear, slowly nodding. “Heard that, huh?”

You gave him a little smirk. “It was a pretty small Winnebago.”

He shook his head fondly, then — “Yeah. Turns out being an only child gets to you.”

You nodded sadly. “Yeah. It does.”

Steve hated that you knew that same loneliness. But then again, was that what made you both see each other so clearly? Is that why you knew his deeply rooted longing and misery better than anyone else? Is that why maybe, just maybe…in telling Nancy to run off with Jonathan…you were protecting him? He wondered these things as he looked into your angel eyes, not knowing how in the world he could have not looked at them like this before…especially right when he met you.

You told Steve how you’d always wanted a dog growing up, which led to his immediately confessing he wanted a lab or golden retriever. You nodded eagerly. Yes. Those, or a border collie. A dog that felt like a true family member. Even a stray mutt who needed a home. You both laughed at the funny names you both wanted to name them as kids. Winston, Jeffery, Petunia, PeeWee, Pumpkin, Count Duku. When Steve suggested pancakes as a name, you had to literally turn your head into the pillow to keep your laughter from roaring through the room and waking the household. Even Steve felt like he’d pee himself from laughing so hard, watching you laugh so hard.

God, you were beautiful. You were so beautiful.

…when you smiled up at Steve, bashfully, he realized that he’d said it out loud. “So are you,” you breathed.

Steve shook his head. “I’m not, though.”

Your brow creased. “Yes, you are. You know you are…and if you don’t –”

“I don’t.”

“Well, you are,” you said simply.

Steve pressed his lips together, self-conscious. How had he felt so damn confident all those years in high school, even middle school, but not now? You reached up to push back some of his perfect hair, caressing his cheek.

“I haven’t been,” he confessed, almost in a whisper. “Not to you. I’ve been ugly. Really ugly.”

You looked into his guilty eyes, but Steve couldn’t find any anger or sadness in yours. Just understanding and forgiveness.

“I was, too,” you admitted.

“No,” Steve shook his head, adamantly. “Not like me.”

“Steve, I wrecked your life. Well, your love life. But still, I wrecked it.”

“No, you only wrecked it when you left it,” Steve confessed, bitter at the memory but not at you.

Never at you. Never again.

“Telling me I deserve better, and I…told you that you deserved…nothing.” He visibly winces at his own words. “God, I’m so sorry —”

“Steve,” you stopped him softly, cupping his cheeks. “Don’t. I’ve forgiven it. Really. You didn’t know. You were hurt.”

“Doesn’t make it right,” Steve whispered, looking at you with those beautiful doe eyes that shone in the moonlight. “I actively made a point to stop hurting people, and I did it again anyway. Worse. Way worse than my stupid King Steve days.”

You shrugged, trying to make him smile again. “King Steve was pretty amateur compared to the hard ass you became.”

Steve bit back a laugh, maybe even some tears. Still, he let the joke land. You crane your neck up to nuzzle his nose, making him sigh and return the eskimo kiss. Then you hissed in pain, letting out a little groan.

“What's wrong?” he asked worriedly, brow pinched.

“Stupid shoulder,” you muttered. “My ribs, too, damn…”

Steve looked down at your ribcage sadly, splaying his fingers there against your skin underneath his yellow crewneck. He sighed. “That’s because of me,” he confessed sadly. “Pounding on you nonstop today with the compressions.”

“Well in that case, I’ll take it. Pain’s good.”

You winked at him, and Steve tried to let that comfort him. It did, for the most part. Your oxygen intake really made it worth it, in the end. He leaned down to press his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as you did the same.

“I don’t know where we’re headed,” Steve whispered against you. “Hawkins. The country. The world.” He paused, breathing you in. “Just know I want you there. All the time.”

You smiled, eyes still closed, heart fluttering. “Good. You’re stuck with me, Harrington. Bothering the ever-living shit outta you.”

“Bother me till I go insane,” Steve breathed, nuzzling his nose against you and grinning like an idiot. He felt happy. Absurdly happy. Who thought that was possible?

“...Steve?”

He opened his eyes slightly, finding yours were already looking into his. He waited, pulling back nervously. Which is stupid, considering you’d just told him you felt the same way. That you wanted to stay by his side, no matter what happens. So why was he thinking that just changed within a 3-second timespan? Why was he suddenly worried that you —

“I love you so much.”

19 years flashed before Steve’s eyes at that moment. His childhood. His pre-teens, and all the teen years that followed. He thought back to every single I love you that had been spoken to him. It hadn’t been many. At least not many that meant anything to him. He could count on one hand the amount of I love you’s that meant something to him over the course of 19 years. But now, he could count on one finger the one that meant the very most to him.

“I love you so much, too,” Steve breathed, eyes glassy and mesmerized as they looked back into yours. “God, you’ve no idea, I…”

Steve felt overwhelmed. He scrunched his eyes shut, resting his forehead to yours again and caressing your cheeks. He pecked your face, every inch of it, slowly. Little kisses peppering your face. “I love you so much.”

He could have bawled on the spot if he weren’t so completely entranced, swept up in the tidal wave of joy that splashed across his heart, mind, body and soul. Steve could bawl about it later. Right now, he simply leaned into your touch and vowed to never let you go.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

bless Murray and his impeccably uncensored madness. about time he set everyone straight, damn.

as alwaysssss, thank u for reading :) this series is so much fun. please comment, it always makes my day.

TAG LIST [if I forgot u, pls lmk and pls forgive me]

@xprloki @erastourvip @get0ut0fmyr00m @Eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00 @poppet05 @wiltedflowersundertowers Originalthingparadise Pleuviors pumpkinonice Ihaveproblemsihaveproblems Brinleighsstuff Definitelynotherr sucker-4-angst @goosy-goose

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington one shot #stranger things fanfiction #enemies to lovers trope #joe keery #baron marmalade #jkeeryedit #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #mishas masterlists #Steve Harrington is a mother #mom steve

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captain039 · 9 months

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Wolf and bear

Halsin x shapeshifter!reader

Warnings: sexual, adult content, eventual smut, light swearing, mentions of dog fighting, first times.

Again! I don’t know Halsins character very well, nor have a played the game still lmao (3rd of the 9th ) well 5th cause that’s when I get paid lol.

Angry little wolf with her future bear husband lol

Kinda questionable xD

I cannot find Halsin smut and I need it

Also need Astarion smut

Challenging a bear probably wasn’t the smartest idea you had, but he was too close to your home. He smelt different though, not like normal wild bears that sometimes roam through. There was a scar down his eyes and his one of his lip. He was bigger than a normal bear also, then again you were a bigger than a normal wolf. Was he a shifter? He didn’t seem fazed by your warning growls and snaps, if a bear could looked amused he looked it. You huffed through your teeth and hoped he’d disappear. You headed back to your cottage, shifting back into your human form with a pained groan.

“Why’re you in pain?” you screamed at the deep voice behind you, body instantly going back into a wolf form due to reflexes. You smacked the ground with a groan before shifting back. Your body extra aching now, of course it bloody hurt your body literally changed into an animal! stupid idiot. You grabbed your robe quickly and covered yourself, you turned seeing an overly naked large man.

“Gods!” you covered your eyes praying he’d just leave.

“Do you have clothes?!” You yelled.

“I rather enjoy changing without them on, more comfortable” he said and you couldn’t argue with logic, but still. Sure if you were skilled enough in magic you’d keep your clothes on and not ruin them, every time you changed though they’d be torn and ruined.

“Why’re you here?” You asked keeping your hand over your eyes.

“It’s been a long time since I met another shifter, I was curious I suppose” he said and you sighed.

“Well I shift, the end, please leave” you probably sounded like a bitch, but you hadn’t had anyone here in years, people weren’t to found on a wolf in their villages, and life with other shifters was weird, constant need to bond with nature and a lot of nudity.

“Why have you not joined others?” He asked and you sighed.

“Because they are too much for me I like my quietness!” You pressed hoping he’d get the hint.

“You are against bonding with nature and being yourself?” He added and you groaned.

“Listen man, I don’t want your company or questions please leave!” You finally moved your hand to look at him, geez he was big. Big broad shoulders and wide torso, strong legs- oh gods. You flushed and looked back to his eyes seeing a small smirk. He had the same three scars over his eyes and the one on his lip, tribal markings down the right side of his face. Pointed ears and long brown hair half tied back.

“You didn’t answer my question” he stated and your mouth hung open slightly, did he not get a word you just said.

“I’m Halsin” he said.

“I don’t care!” You groaned getting up and going inside, slamming the door behind you.

You awoke the next morning ignoring the scenes

of last night, hopefully he’s gone back to his little nature loving pack. You went outside to tend to your garden only to freeze when you sensed someone to your left. You stared at the large man sitting by your table chewing on what looked like dried fruit. Is he serious? You walked back inside surely this was a dream, or an illusion.

“I’m real” he called and you walked back outside.

“What in the hell are you doing here?!” You snapped and he just smiled. He was clothed thankfully as he stood, woah he was much bigger than you.

“You intrigue me” he said.

“I don’t care, get off my property or-“ you stuttered what could you really do to a giant bear man? He smirked head tilted he knew you couldn’t do anything.

You ignored him as you went about your gardening. He didn’t say anything which annoyed you more, what did he want somewhere to hibernate?! Certainly wasn’t going to be in your comfortable bed.

“Excuse us” you frowned at the approaching men. The bear man stood on edge a frown on his face. You walked to them and wiped your hands.

“What is it?” You asked seeing a note in their hands.

“Have you seen or heard any bears around?” He asked and you froze.

“One with a scar on his face!” The man behind him piped up.

“No?” You said questioning.

“We believe it’s a demon” he said and you raised a slight eyebrow.

“Bear shifter” he added, so this man was a shifter hater.

“He caused a rampage in a dog fight arena” your stomach churned at the words, people still did that? Horrible beings.

“Was anyone hurt?” You asked trying to not sound suspicious.

“Just the owners, not dead, but all the dogs were let free” he answered and you felt relief flood you.

“This your husband?” He nodded to the bear man behind you.

“Uh-“ you faltered as he stood and came over with a smile.

“I am” he said and you froze as a hand went around your waist. You wanted to punch that smile off his face.

“Ah, have you heard or seen anything?” The man asked and your supposed husband shook his head.

“Can’t say I have” he said.

“Kinda got scars like you” the one behind said studying.

“Oh these I was attacked by a bear actually, got its head in our living room” he chuckled, but you felt how rigid his body went.

“Awesome!” The man behind said and you sighed.

“Well if you see or hear anything let us know, oh and if you see a dog or dogs let us know, we’re at the village council” the man said and left. The bear man growled and you tensed feeling the anger rolling off him. You rested a hand on his chest feeling his urge to murder those men.

“Killing them won’t solve anything” you said hushed and he stared down at you with big eyes. Now that he was close, you could feel his warmth, feel the muscles beneath your hand, smell his scent.

You closed your eyes for a moment taking him in before you realised what you were doing and stormed away embarrassed.

“What about those dogs?” You asked.

“They’re with good people now, away from that horrible place” he growled the last part and you couldn’t ignore the shivers and unwanted arousal it gave you.

“Good” you whispered as you went back to gardening.

Apparently this was his daily ritual, to greet you in the morning, ask some questions and just be around you. You really couldn’t deny how comforting it was to have his presence, but you also couldn’t ignore how weird it was. After a few days of not shifting your body began to ache, you hated it, hated having to change and run in the forest despite the freedom it gave you. You waited till night, waited till Halsin was gone. You went outside in a robe, shrugged it off and shifted. You took a moment to gather yourself before you took off into the woods. You rested by a lake and looked at the moon reflection rippling in the water. You heard heavy steps and stood, hackles up before you recognised the scent and scar on the big bear. You sat back down listening to him saunter over and sit by you. You enjoyed the cool breeze and took in a breath to smell the forest around you. Halsin bumped you suddenly and you looked to him seeing the bear smile. You huffed at him and looked away feeling him doing it again. You gave him a narrowed look feeling his playfulness. You pushed him back with your body watching him stumble. He roared playfully and you stood up tail wagging slightly. You bowed down slightly in a playful dog stance as he roared softly and began play fighting with you. If someone was to walk by the would be weirded out, but for some reason this felt natural. If you could laugh you would, it just came out a strange grunts and growls as you nipped playfully at Halsins paws. He was stronger though and knocked you into the water. You froze standing up quickly and shivering. You growled charging at him and trying tackle him into the water only to fail. You were pinned under him, paws in the air and you gave a huff. He shifted above you and you tilted your head.

“Shift” he said smiling and you did expecting pain. You frowned though as he waved his hand, yellow light coming from his hand.

“Was that better?” He asked softly and you nodded surprised.

“I’m a Druid” he said.

“Oh” you said glancing at your nakedness and his. You covered your breasts and looked away with cheeks flushed.

“Why do you hide?” He asked and you glanced to him, biting the inside of your cheek.

“This is- intimate” you muttered.

“I’ve never been intimate, nor has anyone seen me like this” you added embarrassed, you glanced to his face seeing his eyes darken slightly but remaining soft.

“May I kiss you?” He asked softly and you froze, but felt yourself nod. He smiled as he leant down, you closed your eyes as you felt him press his lips to yours. You made an embarrassing noise, but he just deepened the kiss. Your arms left covering your breasts and you gripped his forearms instead as he began to kiss down your jaw and to your neck. You felt him press his lower half to you, hips meeting yours, you gasped hand slapping over your mouth. You heard him chuckle lightly, his breath tickling your neck.

“I want to worship you” he said softly and heat ran straight through your body.

“I want to taste you” he pressed a kiss to a sensitive spot on your neck that made you squirm.

“Feel you” he muttered and you sealed your eyes close. You felt his hand rest on your ribs before sliding up your side and over your hip, before gripping your thigh. He gripped the flesh pulling it gently so your knee bent. He stopped kissing your neck and chuckled again as you opened your eyes and flushed, you moved your hand and he kissed you again.

“You’re not so feisty when you’re flustered” he grinned and you glared.

“I was wrong” he chuckled and you hated how you loved the sound. Hated how you loved the feeling of him against you. You were battling with yourself, you didn’t even realise he had slid down your body till lips pressed against your inner thigh. Your eyes went down to his, he smirked pushing your legs further apart before you felt his breath against your folds. Your breath hitched when a tongue darted out and ran through them, a groan leaving his lips as he began to lick. Your body squirmed and you closed your eyes leaning your head back fully. You had one hand on your stomach in a fist, the other at your side, he was skilful, gods you felt like you were in heaven, or hell. You felt his hand snake up your stomach and you opened your hand to hold it, which he gladly accepted. You moaned as he began to suck and prod his tongue against your entrance. You gripped his hand harshly but he didn’t seem to care, too busy working you up with his tongue. You felt fingers though, joining his tongue and sliding in heat. You moaned back arching as he began to slowly thrust his finger in and out. His fingers were much bigger than yours and much more delightful, you kept clenching his hand as you felt your stomach tighten with need and release. You moaned brokenly when he added a second finger, working you open for what was hopefully to come. His mouth paid extra attention to your clit while his fingers scissored and beckoned. You whined lowly muttering a please that you barely managed to get out. You felt him grin and wanted to slap the cockiness off his face, but was too caught in the pressure building. You felt the knot in your stomach come undone as you came with a moan. Your legs shuddered and you panted loudly as he continued riding out your high slowly. He sat back up, and crawled up your body again smiling down at you.

“Beautiful” he whispered and you flushed looking away. You waited for him to move, but he didn’t and you looked back ready to huff at him. He had a playful look and you groaned quietly with a huff, why was he teasing?

“Why’re you teasing?” You asked.

“Because it gets you worked up” he smirked and you glared with a huff, you crossed your arms over your chest too, looking away till he kissed down your neck and you felt his hips shift. You tensed a bit as you felt the tip of his cock resting by your entrance. He grabbed one of your hands and pressed it above your head, clenching it before he thrusted in. You moaned while he groaned in your ear, you held your breath before panting. You clenched his hand, gods you felt full. He let you adjust before slowly skipping out and back in, your eyes slipped shut as you felt the sting.

“Gods” you muttered.

“I’ve got you” he whispered giving your hand a gentle squeeze. You whined in response as he set a slow pace, the sting slowly fading. His hand left yours as he rested on it instead and you wrapped your arms around him. His pace quickened slowly and you were struggling to keep in your moans.

“Only I can hear you” he whispered lifting his head which made you open your eyes. He kissed you gently and you moaned into his mouth as he began to quicken again. He was getting close, his pants became uneven and his hips were moving more desperately. You closed your eyes tightly again, back arching as he sped up to chase his release. You gripped his arms in your hands as his hips stuttered and he came with a groan. His head was in your neck panting harshly as you lifted your hands to run them up and down his back.

“I’m sorry” he suddenly said and you frowned.

“Why?” You asked as he lifted his head.

“I didn’t bring you to your release again” he said looking guilty and you smiled shaking your head pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Another time” you whispered and his eyes widened slightly but smiled as he kissed you once more.

#Halsin #Halsin x reader #x reader #bg3 #shifters

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libraryofgage · 9 months

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SpiderPool Steddie Part One

So, this is definitely gonna have multiple parts lmao

It's been bouncing around my brain for a while like the Addams Family Steddie AU lol

Anyway, lemme know if you'd like to be tagged for future parts ^_^

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Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Girls is, at best, a dive bar. At worst, it's a cesspit in which the scummiest people in the city gather to bask in each other's scumminess. To Steve, however, it's the perfect place to collapse after a long patrol, splayed out like a starfish on the roof as the music playing inside vibrates the building itself.

Steve takes a deep breath, setting his bat down next to him before pushing his mask to the bridge of his nose. He then lies down on the roof, wishing not for the first time that the city's light pollution wasn't so bad. Seeing the stars and hunting for constellations would really help him ignore the cracked ribs screaming inside his chest and threatening to break if he even breathes wrong.

All things considered, though, it could be worse. Steve doesn't have any morning classes, Vecna didn't beat him up nearly as bad as he usually does during their fight earlier, and his accelerated healing means Steve will be able to breathe normally by morning. Robin would tell him he has a very low bar when it comes to judging how shitty his life currently is, but she isn't here, so her opinion doesn't matter. Dustin would tell him he should try not getting his ass whooped in the future. Thankfully, he also isn't here, making his opinion as meaningful as Robin's.

Steve closes his eyes, letting his shoulders relax and trying not to think about anything. It sort of works until his entire body suddenly tenses, every nerve on edge and goosebumps shooting across his arms. He shoots up, ignoring the harsh twinge in his ribs as he turns in a crouch and grabs his bat. Steve clenches his jaw, breathing harshly through his nose to keep from groaning in pain, and feels relieved he didn't completely remove his mask completely.

Over by the door leading to a staircase is a guy with ripped jeans, a worn-out shirt with "HELLFIRE CLUB" across the chest, a jean vest covered in patches and pins, and hair pulled back out of his face with a few wavy strands stubbornly escaping his hair tie. He's breathing a little heavily, his face flushed like he's just climbed a few flights of stairs. Actually, he probably has.

"Woah," the guy says, his voice soft enough that Steve would have missed it if not for the enhanced hearing. The guy clears his throat and holds up both hands, showing off a bottle of Jack Daniels in one and a bag with a grease-stained bottom in the other. "Uh, I come in peace. I didn't realize the rooftop was taken."

Steve has no clue what possesses him, but he forces himself to relax and set the bat down. "No, it's okay. I can head out," he says, staying seated despite his words. He's really hoping the guy will insist he doesn't need to; his ribs are still aching like a bitch.

Thankfully, the guy flashes a grin and slowly lowers his hands. "Nah, you're all good. Not every day I get to eat next to a hero. Want some fries?" he asks, walking over and sitting a good two feet away so there's plenty of room between them.

He tears open the bag to create an impromptu plate and puts it between them, the smell of greasy and undoubtedly delicious fries tempting enough that Steve picks up a smaller one and pops it into his mouth. "Thanks. Where are these from?" Steve asks, glancing over as the guy twists the cap of his bottle and takes a swig.

"A burger joint two streets down and one street over. On the corner."

Steve nods, making a mental note of the directions so he can get a burger before swinging home. He's got just enough in his pocket to afford one. "So, got a name?" Steve asks, figuring he's already eating the guy's fries and they're about to spend some time together on this roof. He should know the guy's name.

The guy's grin returns, and he sets the bottle down between them as well. It's tempting, but Steve doesn't trust his alcohol tolerance to hold up while his body is busy fixing his ribs. "Eddie. Do I get to know your name, too?"

Steve snorts and leans away slightly, putting a bit more distance between Eddie and his entirely too-grabbable mask. "Nice try," he says.

"Worth a shot," Eddie says, shrugging as he picks up a few fries. "So, Spider-Man, what brings you to Sister Margaret's? You enjoy the gay metal scene?"

"What's the difference between gay and regular metal?"

"Our hair is better," Eddie explains, dramatically flipping the few strands of hair escaping his tie.

Steve has to hold back a second snort, taking another fry and chewing on it before saying, "I like resting here after patrol. The whole building shakes with the music."

Eddie lights up, his eyes brightening and his back straightening some. "So, you're a fan of Corroded Coffin," he says, taking another swig of the Jack Daniels. It's only now that Steve realizes it's already a quarter of the way gone, and he wonders if Eddie's liver can handle that much alcohol all at once.

"Is that the name of the band?"

"Yep. They play here almost every night."

"I'm guessing you like them, too, then?"

Eddie hums, amusement dancing across his expression now, giving Steve the distinct feeling that there's some secret he simply isn't in on. "They're the best band I've ever heard. Their music is incredible. They really push the boundaries of the genre. And their lyrics? Amazingly layered with at least three meanings per line. I highly recommend actually coming in for a listen one of these days," Eddie says, leaning a little closer to Steve.

A beat of silence passes in which Steve holds Eddie's gaze. Or, he holds the gaze on his end; he's sure Eddie can't actually tell with the mask covering his eyes. "You're in the band," Steve says.

"Lead guitarist and singer, yes. I also write the songs."

"You're incredibly critical of yourself, really grounded in reality."

Eddie barks out a laugh. "I just happen to know my worth incredibly well."

"You have all the confidence of a mediocre white man on a job hunt."

Eddie gasps, placing a hand on his chest as he looks at Steve. "How dare you call me mediocre. I am revolutionary at worst and the second coming at best."

"You know the second coming involves, like, an apocalypse or something, right?"

"I'm Jewish, why would I bother with the fine details?" Well, Steve will give him that. "By the way," Eddie says, gesturing to Steve's bat as he continues, "do those nails actually see any use? Or are they just there to act as a threat?"

Steve looks down at his bat, considering it for a moment before carefully holding the middle and offering the handle to Eddie. Now that he's giving them a few moments of attention, he's realizing the nails embedded in the end are a little rusty and definitely need cleaning. "I try not to be deadly with it, but Vecna's got these lab-grown demon dogs and bats that always manage to break through my webs," Steve explains.

He watches as Eddie takes the bat, weighing it in his hands before shoving his palm into the nails. Steve jerks, a wordless shout escaping his throat as he launches himself over the fries and in front of Eddie. "Are you okay?!" he asks, grabbing Eddie's hand and shakily inspecting the nails sticking through it. Fuck, those are going to be a bitch to get out, and he'll probably have to swing Eddie to the hospital for a tetanus shot.

Being angry doesn't even register in his brain as Eddie laughs. "Don't worry about it, Spidey," he says, pulling his hand off the nails with a slight wince. He wiggles his fingers, letting Steve have a front-row seat to the injuries closing. "See, good as new."

And he's right. The injuries are good as new. In fact, there isn't even any scarring, and Steve almost rips his mask off to take a closer look but stops himself at the last minute. Instead, he grabs Eddie's hand and yanks it closer, turning it over to check his palm, too. "What the fuck?" he asks, looking up at Eddie, still gripping his hand tight.

"Super healing," Eddie explains. "Like, super duper. If I ever get decapitated, just hold my head to my neck, and I'll be right as rain."

"I'd rather not put that claim to the test," Steve says, frowning slightly as he runs his fingers over Eddie's palms, just to make sure the injuries aren't somehow hidden from sight.

"You know, I kissed the last guy who touched my palm like that," Eddie says, leaning in again with that grin.

Suddenly all Steve can think about is how Eddie's lips do look soft. And it has been a while since Steve actually kissed anyone. And he does think Eddie is funny. And he does find himself wondering if his smile will taste like the Jack Daniels and fries. And...and...

And Steve needs to go before he does anything he shouldn't be doing as Spider-Man.

He jerks back, dropping Eddie's hand like it burns, and ignores the ache in his ribs as he grabs his bat and stands. "I, uh, I need to get going. Thanks for the fries, Eddie," he says, hurrying over to the edge of the roof.

"Woah, just gonna eat and run on me, big boy?" Eddie asks, scrambling to his feet and over to where Steve is climbing onto the edge of the roof. "That's not very hero-like of you. You haven't even left me your name or number. How are you gonna pay me back $2.50 for the fries?"

"I had five," Steve says, turning to look at Eddie as he webs his bat to his back and pulls his mask down over his chin.

"The economy sucks, man."

Okay, he's got Steve there. Again. "Nice try, Eddie."

"Can you blame a guy? Your ass looks great in that spandex."

Steve is suddenly relieved his mask is back down, covering the furious blush spreading across his cheeks. He'd think it was just a joke, but the sincere and somewhat goofy smile tugging at Eddie's lips tells him it's more genuine than anything else. "Thanks," Steve says, giving Eddie a two-finger salute before taking a step back off the roof.

He shoots a web at the edge of the building, using the momentum to swing around the corner. His ribs are killing him with the movement, but he still manages to throw a, "See you later, Eds!" over his shoulder before he's completely out of earshot.

Later, Steve will wonder how Eddie got his super healing, if he's that flirtatious with every guy he meets on the roof of Sister Margaret's, and if he'll be there the next time Steve swings by. But that's for later. For now, he's just enjoying the breeze rushing over him and thinking about Eddie's eyes and his smile and his long fingers.

#Steddie #Spiderpool Steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #spiderman steve harrington #deadpool eddie munson #it'll make sense i promise #also Eddie goes back into the bar and immediately starts bragging about flirting with spider-man #everyone immediately knows he's about to become Annoying (TM)#and resign themselves to their fate #Robin does the exact same when Steve gets home and tells her about Eddie #RIP everyone who has to live with these two gushing about each other

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sailoryooons · 10 months

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okay, Yoongi rec time. I am prepared for you to ruin my life, lessgo~~~

Gimme feelings and vibes, babe!!!! These two understand each other, they are the safe space for one another, their quiet compatibility is god tier.

Premise: Yoongi is 'the one that got away' to you. When you're unexpectedly thrown into each other's worlds again, every old feeling you had takes over like he never left - and it's clear that it's mutual. Problem... Yoongi has a girlfriend.

(Prefer no infidelity, just Yoongi having to make a hard choice, realizing the depth of what he had/and could have again now with reader is more substantial. And reader not being completely sure (maybe from miscommunication or lack of it) what his choice will be.)

honestly idc how smutty you make it, if you want to throw me a bone (huhuhu) and have some spice you know i'm not complaining :)

❀ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

❀ Summary: Unresolved feelings lead to nothing but heartache when you run into Yoongi at a wedding five years after breaking up. Especially when you realize that despite Yoongi have feelings for you, there is still another woman on his arm.

❀ Word Count: 3,641

❀ Genre: Angst, exes to lovers, smut

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: STUPID PINNING!!!! LIKE JUST TWO IDIOTS WHO NEED TO GET OVER THEIR PRIDE AND GET BACK TOGETHER!!!!!! Angst, a lot of internal pondering on relationships and life, Yoongi is honestly a terrible boyfriend to his current girlfriend (he is in love with reader and it’s very obvious) bickering about relationships, Hyori seems like a bitch but tbh she is in the worst situation lmao, depiction of a breakup, a lot of aching and being wistfully sad, explicit language, sexua content including vaginal fingering, light nipple play, unprotected vaginal sex, some cum and fluids idk they’re sweaty, this is more of an emotional/prosey smut scene than filth, FeElInGs

❀ Published: August 1, 2023

❀ A/N: JO IT TOOK ME A YEAR TO FILL THIS REQUEST FOR YOU BUT GOD DAMMIT I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE THIS REQUEST. I HOPE THAT THIS FITS THE VIBE OF WHAT YOU WERE THINKING AFTER WAITING FOR ME TO FUCKING WRITE IT FOR LITERALLY 365 DAYS. I LOVE YOU SO SO SO MUCH AND THIS IS UNEDITED OKAY. HERE'S TO HALI'S HAPPY AGUST'S FIRST REQUEST DROP!

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Song Inspiration | Hali's Happy Agust

“Is that her?” Yoongi doesn’t have to turn to look at who Hyori is talking about. Her tone, tightening grip on his arm, and the way she stiffens says all that he needs to know. “Well? Is it?”

Yoongi doesn’t want to turn around and look. His back and shoulders hurt from sleeping on the hotel couch, his eyes burn from being unable to sleep after staying up most of the night fighting with Hyori, and he knows that Hyori knows what you look like. As if she has not spent hours scrutinizing every part of your life on social media.

Perhaps it’s Yoongi’s fault. He thinks of all the things he’s done for the last two years. Or better - he thinks of all the things that he hasn’t done that have landed him here at this wedding with Hyori seething at your very presence in the same room.

It’s only partially Hyori’s fault. Yoongi could have done better to make her feel secure, to ensure that she felt like he was in this relationship without thoughts of you, to make her feel like he would always be about her and not you.

Yoongi loves quietly, though. Too quietly for a bright, burning star like Hyori, who has turned into a flaring nova over the last year, burning Yoongi when he dares to get too close but freezing him out when he gets too far.

He doesn’t know what to do, so Yoongi does what Hyori wants him to do. He turns and looks over his shoulder, eyes scanning the entrance to the garden that Seokjin and his fiance have selected for their reception.

When he sees you, Yoongi swears he could die. His heart squeezes, his stomach flips. He keeps his features schooled as much as he can, knowing that his girlfriend is watching his every movement, waiting for another reason to dig her nails in deeper, waiting to say I told you so.

“Yeah,” he mumbles and turns back around without looking back again. “That’s her.”

Hyori hums, seemingly satisfied with Yoongi’s lack of interest in you. Her grip softens and she melts into him a little. He fights the urge to lean away, the sudden sight of you making him want to put distance between himself and Hyori.

She did tell me so, he thinks when he realizes that his first instinct of being in the same room with you again is to be away from anyone else. Fuck.

“I don’t like her dress.”

Yoongi hums in agreement, but he couldn’t disagree more. He thinks you look stunning in your silk, sky blue gown. It glows against your skin and Yoongi already knows you’ll smell like vanilla with a hint of cherries, a scent that used to drive him wild. He knows you taste as sweet as you smell, skin warm and soft and-

“Are you listening?” Hyori asks, voice ringing with annoyance.

He wasn’t. “Sorry, I was wondering how many people they invited.”

“Looks like a hundred or so. Did you see who Taehyung brought?”

Hyori launches into assessing the dates brought to the wedding as people are seated for the ceremony. Yoongi hums and nods when appropriate, but his thoughts are miles away from petty conversations with his girlfriend.

Instead, he’s focused on you. Three rows up and on the other side of the aisle, sitting next to Hoseok. You laugh and Yoongi begins to bleed at the seams, all of his wounds that he’s spent the last five years trying to heal opening up for him to drip with pain.

It’s stupid, this endless longing for you. You’d broke it off with him because it was getting too complicated and because Yoongi had missed every opportunity to give you reasons to stay. He knows that you’re happy and he loves seeing you happy, knows that you have no ill will toward him. You wish each other happy birthday, and he texted you when a mutual friend passed away.

So why is it so painful? Yoongi was happy with Hyori at first. She is everything he is not: bright, outspoken, full of energy, adventurous and social. He liked the way that she compliments him, where she makes up for where he lacks. But now, all of those differences have become obstacles, and what they had once admired one another for has become irritations.

When the ceremony starts, Yoongi knows he’s supposed to look back at the bride and watch her enter. Knows that she will be beautiful and it is her day and she is owed all of the attention in the world. But it’s you he watches, waiting with his breath held as you turn, eyes sweeping to watch the bride enter.

And then you’re looking at him and Yoongi breaks. A single look in five years and he knows with sudden, lightning-strike clarity that he cannot do this anymore. The stab of longing is far greater than looking at you from a distance, the weight of your gaze crushing.

Yoongi realizes that there is nothing worse than watching two people proclaim their love in front of their family and friends while the love of his life is sitting three rows, and an aisle away.

Letting out a shaky breath, you bring the flute of champagne to your lips, knocking back the entire thing. It burns on the way down and the carbonation fluxes, making you cough as a sudden burning sensation singes your nose, making you choke.

You set the glass down quickly, coughing your way through swallowing the alcohol the wrong way. Hoseok appears, patting your back and asking, “Shit, you okay?”

“Wrong pipe.”

“Maybe don’t chug your champagne like you’re using a beer bong in college.”

“Well maybe I need stronger champagne,” you shoot back. You immediately wince at your tone, Hoseok raising his brows. “Sorry. Very on edge. I knew seeing him would suck but I didn’t expect to feel like my rib cage would crack open.”

“By the looks of it, you’re not the only one.”

Gritting your teeth, you follow Hoseok’s gaze, glancing over your shoulder toward the far end of the reception room. Yoongi is leaning back in his seat, slouched slightly in his chair and staring off into the distance unseeing. Next to him, his girlfriend Hyori giggles with the woman next to her at their table, either unaware of her boyfriend disassociating or over it.

The worst part about Hoseok’s comment is that it’s true. Seeing Yoongi’s face during the ceremony was all you needed to see to know that it isn’t just you being burned by the fire. You aren’t alone in your pain, but you're not the one in a committed relationship. You’re not the one who has sat passively and let the world and love pass you by.

It’s knowing that hurts so much, you think. Knowing that you love Yoongi more than anyone else in the room. Knowing that maybe walking away because you were too young to understand his love language or how he could do better for you was a mistake.

Five years has given you a lot to think about. You don’t move through the world the same way, and you have a better understanding of the way that people pour love into relationships. You can’t help but wonder what it would be like now that distance has made you understand Yoongi more. You cannot help but ache over imagining that he has fixed all the things about himself you struggled with for another.

“He loves her,” Hoseok murmurs, speaking your thoughts. “But not… like he loves you.”

“Well, that’s his problem.” You pick at a stray hair on your dress. “I admit I was immature and impatient and didn’t give him the chances to be what I needed, but… if he wants me and won’t take me, isn’t that why I left in the first place?”

Hoseok hums his agreement with an undercurrent of sadness. “Come on, let’s dance. Weddings are for celebrating love, not watching it die.”

Hand in Hoseok’s, you let him lead you out onto the floor, spinning you wildly until you’re crashing into Jungkook and Taehyung’s arms, laughing and letting the music sweep you up and away from the hurt. The pain of knowing Yoongi is right there dulls a little.

Being with your friends helps. It takes your thoughts away from thinking of all the things that you did wrong, like ignoring the ways Yoongi was silently telling you that he loved you, like getting mad for not seeing what he was saying in his own, quiet way.

Yoongi isn’t faultless but neither are you blameless, which is perhaps why it hurts so much when you catch glances of him on the other side of the room. His hair is longer than it’s ever been and you wonder if it’s just as soft as it used to be. His face is just as round and soft, and yet he looks older somehow, more mature.

It’s hard not to wonder what it would be like if you’d just given him the chance to be better for you. What it would be like if you had been more patient and understanding of him.

Yoongi does not love loud. He does not exist brightly splashed across paper the way that you do. He loves gently, with your cup of coffee waiting and ready for you every morning, and the oil in your car changed, and the broken shelf in your library mended. He is a soft shadow, the gentle hand on your back at an art gallery you wanted to visit and a held hand at a show he didn’t like but you did.

Sweat lines your forehead and sticks to your arms from dancing. You excuse yourself to take a break and freshen up in the bathroom, the cool air of the venu making you shiver as you wend through candle-lit tables filled with sleeping elders and children stealing wedding cake.

In the hall, you teeter toward the bathroom. After being plied with champagne and some tequila from Taehyung to loosen you up, you feel a little too loose, like you might melt on the floor if you don’t get some water and a seat somewhere underneath an air vent.

“Fuck you,” someone hisses, their voice loud enough to stop you from turning the corner of where the bathrooms are. This section of the hotel is empty, reserved only for events and Seokjin’s wedding is the only event for the evening. “Why did you fucking bring me, then? I told you it would be just like this.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You will be. I have tried, Yoongi. I have tried for a year now, and nothing I do matters. No matter how hard I love you, you still love her. It isn’t fair and it’s cruel.”

Your heart speeds up when you realize it’s Hyori’s hissing voice you hear and Yoongi’s soft baritone. You chew your bottom lip, turning to look at the empty hall behind you. There’s no one around, the wedding working into the late hours of the evening. There doesn’t seem to be another set of bathrooms, and you can’t imagine trying to walk past Hyori and Yoongi in the middle of this.

“You’re right,” Yoongi sighs. You know that sound. Defeated. Sad.

“That’s all you have to say? That I’m right?”

“I don’t know what else to say. You are right. You don’t deserve the effort that I’ve given you, I have been incredibly unfair, and though I love you, it doesn’t erase what I feel for her. It is the worst kind of cruelty I can think of, and I thought I’d get over it. I didn’t.”

“You are the worst kind of person.”

Before you can get yourself together at the sound of Hyori’s clicking heels, she’s turning the corner and nearly slamming into you. She takes a few steps back, eyes wide and blinking in surprise. When she realizes it's you, her face twists into something cruel and venomous.

Instead of saying anything, Hyori rushes by you, shoulder smacking yours. You teeter but don’t stumble, staring at the empty space where she was moments ago. You’re not sure you deserve her wrath, but you understand it. You don’t blame her for it. There is no happiness at her pain, no twist of pride at winning. Knowing that her pain is because it’s still about you. Always has been.

Licking your lips, you take a shaky breath and peek around the corner. Yoongi is standing in the empty hall with his head tilted back toward the ceiling, eyes closed. His long hair falls to his shoulders around him. He looks so beautiful in a suit and bowtie, a picture perfect groom if you thought about it long enough.

Tears sparkle in the corner of his eyes before tracking down his face. His pain is tangible, and before you know what it is you’re doing, you’re walking toward him. He either doesn’t hear you coming or doesn’t care that there is someone to see him cry, because he doesn’t look down at you until your hand is in his and you’re squeezing.

Warmth blooms between your palms. His are rough and calloused like you remember, all from playing guitar and taking the woodshop classes he loves so much. He still smells like cedar and sage, hypnotizing and dark in a way that makes you want to fall into him each time you inhale.

Yoongi’s eyes open, lined in silver-tears. He looks so in pain and so beautiful, this soft boy who is now a man. Different but familiar. A burn and a balm.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, quick to speak first. Your hand squeezes his more as Yoongi opens up in front of you on command. As if he only has a moment to correct all of his mistakes in a single breath. “I get it now,” he whispers, voice cracking. “I do, and I’m sorry. And you look beautiful, and happy and I am so happy for you.”

“I know.” You feel a burn in your eyes and realize there are tears threatening to break free. “I- me too. Can we just?”

You don’t have to say what you mean. Yoongi gets it - has always gotten it. From the beginning, to the end. Even when he’s confused, he figures it out. Knows how to put the pieces of your puzzle together for the full image.

Just a tiny exchange leads you to a twist of muttered words, spilled tears and Yoongi’s mouth on yours. You don’t know when he kisses you first or if it was you, but you know that his mouth is on yours and he is warm warm warm and his mouth tastes like whiskey. You breathe him in, fingers pulling at the lapels of his jacket. You want more more more - you always do with him.

Yoongi is a giver. He never takes. He lets you take from him. He crushes you with the weight of his love on the bed, hands feverish and hungry as he pulls your legs up to wrap around his waist. You moan as his rough palms skate up your exposed thigh, lighting a fight as he strokes your skin.

It feels like you might suffocate. The air between you is static as Yoongi sucks your tongue into his mouth, making you shiver. Kissing him has always been your greatest weakness and you forget the way he breaks you apart with gentle swipes of his tongue, the soft nibbling of your bottom lip between his teeth.

You feel like an exposed wire, sparking under Yoongi’s touch. He pulls the dress from your overwhelmed skin, your nipples pebbling in the cold air as his mouth moves from your tips, to your jaw, to your throat. Your pulse beats wildly under the careful touch of his teeth against your skin, the sting of his bites soothed by a swipe of his tongue.

Trembling and panting, you pull at his pants. Yoongi’s skin is hot to the touch, firm in places you don’t remember and soft in places that you do. Your fingers trace his lines and curves, remembering, discovering. You want to learn all of the new things about him and recall the things you already knew.

“Fuck,” you gasp as Yoongi’s wet mouth wraps around a pert nipple. He hums and gives a vicious suck, making your back arch off of the bed. His tongue flicks across your hardened bud a few times, making you twitch under him. “Yoongi.”

He lets go with a pop, a string of spit connecting his mouth and your skin. “Say it again,” he whispers, voice ragged. “Missed hearing you say it.”

“Yoongi,” you say again.

You don’t stop saying his name - can’t stop saying his name. Not when he slides his hands between your legs, fingers trailing through your soaking cunt. Not when he circles those nimble fingers around your clit, sparking pleasure deep inside of you.

It feels like you’re on the edge of madness. Years of want and hurt and desire come bursting to the surface all at once. Your hands slide through Yoongi’s hair, just as soft as you remember it being. You tug hard on the locks, making him moan deeply into your shoulder. His breath is hot against your skin as he teases you, fingers tracing your entrance but doing nothing.

“Please,” you whisper. “Don’t.”

“Just wanted to see if you still get all worked up.” His laugh turns into a groan when you pull his hair harder. You feel his cock straining against your thigh, sticky tip tacky against your skin. “You still do.”

“You have some nerve saying that like your cocks not drooling on my thigh, Yoongi.”

“Fuck, I know.” He slowly slides a finger into your dripping heat. You curse, arching up into him. It isn’t enough. “Could bust just fingering this tight fucking pussy.”

“More.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi inserts another finger and you feel fuller, better. You nod, eyes fluttering shut as he sets a gentle pace, fucking his fingers into you at an angle to press up against that soft spot inside of you that makes you whine. “I still got it.”

“Shut up.”

Yoongi has a right to be smug. It feels like you’re going to shatter, your hips coming off the bed to meet his thrusting hand. Your mouths smash together, teeth and tongues colliding. It’s messy and wet but Yoongi is yours again - maybe not forever, but he is in this moment and it's all you want. All that matters.

Dizzy and drunk on him, you let him work you toward your high, the wet-smack of his fingers between your thighs bracketing the high-pitched sounds escaping you. He attaches his mouth to the sensitive spot beneath your ear, licking and sucking until you’re trembling under him, hands shooting to his arms and legs squeezing his hips as you come apart around his fingers, walls squeezing him tight.

Curses drip from his mouth as he shifts forward, pressing you further into the mattress, thrusting his fingers harder. Your orgasm reaches a peak and your mind is near breaking, ears ringing as he drags it out. You try to move away from him but pull him with you, reaching over stimulation but wanting more.

Yoongi drives you mad. Has always driven you mad. You crave him even more as he pulls his fingers from your fluttering cunt, smearing your slick down your thigh as he gets up on his knees. Your legs fall open for him, butterflied as he strokes his heavy cock in his hand, watching you catch your breath.

Sweat sticks to your skin, the sheets clinging to you. Your thighs protest as Yoongi presses you open and slides his cock along your sticky folds. You twitch when his tip catches your clit, little shockwaves pulsing through you from the stimulation.

Biting his bottom lip, Yoongi angles his hips to push in on his next teasing upstroke and you gasp. The stretch is painful and good, the pressure mounting as he pries you open. You feel yourself drift a little, lost in the feeling as he presses into the hilt, stopping to let your walls flutter around him.

“So fucking tight,” he mutters, falling forward to cage you in with his arms. “Fuck.”

“So fucking big,” you shoot back. “Not my fucking fauuult.”

Your words turn into a mewl as he pulls out and slams back in, hips smacking with bruising force against yours. Yoongi’s laughter is dark against your mouth as he presses his lips to yours. You breathe hard against one another, sharing breath as he fucks you hard and deep.

Sliding your hands along his back, you grab him and pull him closer. Press your fingers into his shoulder blades, grip sliding with the sweat on his back. He works you so easily that within a few moments you’re delirious, babbling under him and near tears that finally - finally - you have him again. Something you’d never thought you’d get.

Apologies spill from his mouth. Yoongi tells you everything he always meant to say. Everything you always wanted from him. You mutter it back, pull sweet words from his tongue, claw him open and make him shudder at your touch.

Forehead pressed to yours, dark eyes burning, Yoongi brings you back to the precipice again. This time when you come, it’s together, your body squeezing tight, muscles spasming. Yoongi kisses you then, shaking above you as you ride it out together, unable to think of anything else but Yoongi.

Later, when he’s asleep next to you and you’re wreathed in the warm cage of his arms, you think never again. Never again will you risk this heartache and let him go.

#yoongi smut #suga smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #bts suga #bts fanfic #minors do not interact #minors dni #bts suga smut #yoongi angst #halis happy agust

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theerurishipper · 7 months

Text

Part 2 of my Paris special commentary (Part 1 here) because Tumblr is an ass and has a word limit.

Disclaimer: This is long asf.

Marinette here playing 5D chess, queen shit.

The most important thing the special confirmed is that Gabe added the word "dark" to his transformation phrase on purpose cause he's a dramatic bitch.

I am here for Claw Noir mocking Gabe. Go off, king.

"Oh nO, iT WAs aN IlLusIon!" That giggle is adorable. She's so cute.

Ladyfly is an ass name, but she looks so great.

Not Gabe getting annoyed at Claw Noir's teasing. See, now this is why we stan Claw Noir on this blog.

Gabe's plan isn't half bad, actually.

Symbolism? In my children's cartoon? It's more likely than you think.

They're having a pun-off.

RIP Chat Noir's ear.

Gabe got feathered lmao

Monarch dipped like a little bitch.

A mirror, I called it. It'll make for some nice symbolism.

"Let alone a calm and gentle mom" I wonder what Sabine is like in their world to make Emonette feel like she's so alone.

I like how they handled the villains tbh. I wasn't a fan of making it seem like Marinette was one step away from becoming a supervillain at all times, but it seems less like that's the case and more like The Supreme took advantage of her suffering and vulnerability at her lowest moments.

It's also nice that they established that Shady and Claw weren't the actual big bads and are just hurt kids who got recruited into a fight they weren't ready for. Their motivation isn't some rehash of Gabriel's, they are literally trying to survive under the rule of someone who will kill them if they don't do his bidding, and because of whom they're dying. Their life is literally full of suffering and they're trying to find something that'll give them a way out. Shady wants Marinette's life, and Claw Noir wants his mother back.

Like, it doesn't excuse their actions, but it does add a more humane element to them that lends itself better to the kind of redemption Miraculous likes to do, which is to fix things with a speech. That's why this redemption works, and Gabe's doesn't.

Anyway.

The back and forth between Chat Noir and Claw Noir was pretty funny ngl.

And we discover that Claw Noir wants his mother back. Of course.

MY POOR BABY

When Marinette was talking about how she was also angry and hurt, but chose to love herself and the world around her and chose to try and fix it... that hit hard. Honestly, it did. It's everything I love about Marinette in one speech. I love it.

And then onto my personal favorite scene in the entire special, possibly in the entire show.

That whole conversation was powerful. "I'm as well as I can be anyway," that's so profound. Like, of course you aren't going to be 100% okay after losing someone you love, but Adrien wants to move on and be happy like his mother would have wanted him to. This scene really showcases Adrien's empathy and his strength, when he acknowledges that having no friends can make it harder for Claw Noir to move on, and then he tells him that only he can make the choice to stop being alone. And that's really true. This scene really showcases everything amazing about Adrien, his hope and optimism, his empathy and his strength. How he finds the strength to keep going by choosing to not be alone. It's beautiful.

Like, it could have been so easy for both Marinette and Adrien to give into their darkest impulses, and Shadybug and Claw Noir really are just representations of how letting your hurt overpower you can lead you down a dark path, and it really highlights their strength, that they choose to make the right choices everyday, despite everything. It really highlights their characters and their arcs. And they're able to take everything they've learned, and look at what they could have been in the eyes and help them change too. It's so poetic.

It would have been a little more impactful if the show had spent more than 10 minutes out of 5 seasons focusing on Adrien's grief and how it has impacted him, but whatever.

Anyway, it also had some Adrien and Nino friendship crumbs, and I'll be darned if I didn't gobble it up like a starved animal. Also, we have confirmation that "Space Mutants vs. Ghost Shark" is Nino's favorite movie, so Nino stans please say "thank you Paris special."

And they are REDEEMED.

Shadybug fixes everything with her Lucky Charm after spending the whole special making destructive ones. My heart.

Shadybug and Claw Noir stop being evil and immediately go from hating each other's guts to flirting shamelessly. They just speedran enemies to lovers in a matter of seconds. They literally just defaulted to flirting. Truly, the natural state of Ladynoir in any universe. We stan.

Gotta be honest, I'm not a fan of the new designs. Wish they had kept the old ones. I'm one of those people whose toxic trait is liking Claw Noir's design, so I'm a little unhappy with it, but hey, it's a sweet scene.

Also, Claw Noir's hair went from the color of rotten bananas to ripe bananas. If that was intentional, I applaud the writers for being both profound and funny as hell.

Aaaaaaand Gabe is back, because we can't have nice things.

The montage going through different realities was great, it was small but I enjoyed it.

They're literally so cute omg. Couple behaviors fr. I'm so obsessed with them.

HUGS

POUND IT

They're holding hands... already... like they're in love... I'm so emotional... I WILL NEVER GET OVER THIS

And they're gone. But their adventures will continue forever in my mind and in my fanfics. And in other people's art that I will ravenously consume.

Cute Alya and Marinette scene. This is really sweet, I love the exploration of the impact Alya has had on Marinette's life.

And now, I'm not an Alyanette shipper, but I think they should kis- oh, wait, never mind, they did it.

And thus, the endless night comes to an end (it happened a while ago but that's just semantics).

Final thoughts

I really loved this so much. Sure, there were some exposition dumps that probably should have happened in the actual series, but that's not the fault of this special. This is probably my bias talking but this is the best special and it's literally perfect, no I will not take any constructive criticism on that. This, this special and everything in it, this is what Miraculous is all about. This is exactly what I wanted, this is what I signed up for. It's literally the best thing ever to come out of this entire show.

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whyse7vn · 8 months

Text

BREAKING POINT -

[ ot7 x reader ]

this is like super short pls forgive me tan twitter tl for context

tan on twitter!!!

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

tae: yoongi pls unblock me on twitter

yoongi: kill yourself

tae: i tried guys why doesn’t he love me 💔

y/n: that was a pathetic try

tae: guess what

y/n: what?

tae: ligma man..

y/n: ligma??

jimin: no way 😭

jk: baby…

namjoon: really

y/n: WHAT???

jin: i’m with her

wtf you guys on about??

hobi: this is a sad day

tae: LIGMA FUCKING BALLS BITCH

y/n: drown

jimin: ur fault tbh

hobi: real

y/n: leave me alone

jin: look you made her upset idiots

y/n: IM NOT UPSET

hobi: cheer up baby ❤️

namjoon: it’s okay tae upsets me all the time

y/n: im fine

hobi: bts song

jk: i know bts

tae: me 2

y/n: i want to stab you with a pencil

tae: watch out namjoon

namjoon: she is definitely talking to you

tae: proof?

hobi: bts?

jimin: i’m gonna bts outta you shut the fuck up

hobi: aw man :/

jk: bts?

jin: beat the shit

tae: beat MY shit

jk: woah

yoongi: he actually needs to kill himself wow

tae: @y/n u 2

y/n: LEAVE ME ALONE

jimin: she’s mad

y/n: I’M NOT MAD

jin: y/n are you still with that scoups guy?

namjoon: didn’t we just find out they we’re together like a week ago?

jk: WE DID????

jin: she moves on fast tho so idk

y/n: NO I DONT????

jimin: yoongi mingyu jk scoups mark wonho minho san all of us

there’s more hold on i’m thinking

hobi: all of us?

jk: say sike…

y/n: ARE YOU FUCKING SICK???????

jin: woah major slut alertttttt

namjoon: shut up

y/n: ONLY LIKE 4 OF THOSE NAMES ARE RIGHT

jk: what

y/n: AND IVE ONLY FUCKED 2 OF THEM SO KILL YOURSELF LEAVE ME ALONE

yoongi: she’s a grown woman

y/n: RIGHT

sorry i’m hot as fuck and pull bitches it’s not my fault

jin: u mid

y/n: ur 30

jin: ok please leave me alone i’m sorry

tae: my body count is also 2

jimin: -2

tae: ummmm?

jk: i’ve killed no one

i could of but don’t worry

namjoon: ??

hobi: fyi she did not deny being with scoups

jimin: TRUE

jk: NO

y/n: i deny it

jimin: too late we know

jin: SLUT

sorry

pls i’m sorry i didn’t mean it pls don’t be mean to me

please oh my god i’m sorry it slipped out

love u

please

y/n: THIS IS NOT FEMINISM

namjoon: it’s okay if ur with him

jk: NO ITS NOT STOP SAYING THAT WHATS UR FUCKING ISSUE STUPID STUPID STUPID

y/n: IM NOT

tae: who have you fucked

yoongi: are you stupid?

tae: no i’m curious

hobi: OH IM CURIOUS YEAH

wow i love shinee

y/n can you please start talking to minho again and then get married to him so i can be at his wedding and we can be forever connected

jk: SHUT UR MOUTH

y/n: you guys know so much about my relationship life it actually makes me want to throw up

jimin: ur easy to stalk

hobi: she’s fucked jk and yoongi

tae: and me

jin: in dreams doesn’t count

yoongi: lol

tae: LOL AWAY FROM ME YOU NASTY BITCH

U THINK UR WINNING BUT UR FUCKING NOT

WHEN ME AND Y/N GET MARRIED IT WILL BE ME KIM TAEHYUNG WHO LOLS IN UR FUCKING FACE

YOU RAT

yoongi: L

tae: no

yoongi: O

tae: YOU FUCKING STOP RIGJT NOW MIN YOONGI

yoongi: L

tae: 6pm seoul south korea apartment block C floor 7 door number 279 a ak47 a man a mask and a fucking dream

namjoon: wow ok that’s great!!

nice vogue shoot btw jungkook!

jk: I WILL NOT FUCK U GO AWAY

namjoon: oh my fucking god

hobi: scottish pride!!

jimin: ???

hobi: was he not wearing a kilt?

jimin: a what?

hobi: killing myself

jin: why they put you in that dirty ass bathroom omg?

tae: dirty shoot for a dirty man

jin: ?

tae: what?

jin: just a bit crazy coming from u

y/n: tae you need to shower

tae: you in love

fucking bitch

jin: do you fuck her or fight her damn?

jimin: right he’s pissing me off

tae: can you leave me alone i’m going through a lot rn

jk: dick

tae: ??

jk: a lot of dick

yoongi: lmao

namjoon: he likes men?

hobi: ewwwwwwwwwwww

jimin: homophobia?????????

jk: yes so he’s going through them

cuz he does not like y/n

yoongi: you say this like every 2 weeks

jk: because it is true

y/n: thank god

jk: no thank men

hobi: thx men

jin: so it’s not jimin?

jimin: what??

tae: i’ve never touched another man let alone sleep with one

hobi: amen

y/n: now that is just not true

namjoon: who cares

tae: I DO

hobi: no one will ever say those words to you

jin: i will

tae: fr 🥲?

jin: LOL

tae: ok kys

and fuck that bitch y/n

yoongi: have

tae left “tan on twitter”

hobi: cuteness overload ^_^

y/n: what crawled up his ass today tf

jk: hi do you need me do you want me do you love me

namjoon: can we just talk about life or like

jin: let me guess trees?

jimin: weed?

jk: OH MY GOD NAMJOON WANTS TO TALK ABOUT WEED

hobi: life is a downward spiral noting matters we are all slowly dying the government hates us money is worthless drugs are all around our water is running out

jk: where is it running out of

let’s catch it

y/n: tae was being super weird right?

hobi: super shy

namjoom: what’s new

hobi: new hair

namjoon: stop

hobi: forgive me master

namjoon: i’m at my breaking point

jimin: breaking bad

jin: drugs?

jimin: it all links back to namjoon…

jk: omgggggg namjoon is this true……..

namjoon: LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE

—-

pls lmk if you like the twitter concept idk if i’m feeling her yet but if you guys are i will do more idk trying to be different 🙈

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anundyingfidelity · 1 month

Text

I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part VIII)

Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 5.1k.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Warnings on this chapter: irresponsable parent, one suicide thought, nudity, implied bisexual reader, misoginist thoughts, Homelander (!!!!), SMUT, hate/rough sex, unprotected sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, dirty talking, some degrading, slight choking, bitchy reader.

Notes: i might wrote more than intended here lmao but the smut is here finally you sinners, give this reader a trophy for the strongest bitch ever to resist soldier boy, well deserved!! hope you like it lol, and thanks for reading as always!!

this fic tags: @k-slla @syrma-sensei @mostlymarvelgirl @cheynovak @drasticemotions @soldirboy @deans-spinster-witch @girlsforpjm @artemys-ackles

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

get yourself in the taglist!

GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!

Part VIII: Tamed

2009

"Baby, how was your audition today?" your mother asked once you entered the kitchen.

Your suit was long gone along with the great smile you put on before leaving early that day. But she was different. She was all honey and candy, putting on the happiest face ever. And you knew it wasn't because of you.

"I'm not doing that shit," you spit harshly. This was your way of delivering the news now.

Her eyes widened as she closed the distance between both. You looked down to your feet, not wanting to see her disgusting face. You felt her hands on your shoulders and your body tensed under her touch.

"Why?! This is your dream, honey! You have to do it!"

You quickly pulled away from her.

"No! Mom, you did this to me!" your voice came out loud and shouting. "I just wanted to be normal! But you always influenced me to do this and go after Vought, I don't fucking want that! Those supes are fucking assholes and everything around them is a damn lie!"

She was startled, you could tell that from the way her eyes widened and her mouth fell open as she placed her hand on top of her heart, pretending to be hurted. It was the first time you talked back to her like that.

Since you were a child, you did everything she asked you to. You never complained, never stood up for yourself. You didn't have a choice, nor an opinion that mattered. Your mother picked everything for you. Your clothes, your behavior, your food, your studies, your dreams... Today, you decided it was over. She was over controlling your life.

Your mother scoffed, a sly smile on her lips as she tried to touch your arm softly. Giving a step back, you shook your head saying 'no'. She sighed.

"Honey, this isn't you. And Vought, this is your dream. The Seven are your dream. Now, why don't you go back and-"

"I said no."

You cut off her stupid words with a straight voice. Her smile dropped in a second and you saw her eyes darkening.

"Y/N, this is not what your father wanted for you. We didn't raise you like this," she hissed through her teeth.

"Don't talk about dad. You don't care about him, you never did. Fuck, you don't care about me!" you raised your voice, fighting the tears in your eyes and the knot on your throat.

You were so sick of being weak. She raised you to be like it. Soft, fragile, compassionate, cute, playing the dumb rich girl with no brain and forcing you to not show your intelligence to others... It was all a façade. It was easier for her to manipulate you if you pretended to be stupid. Since her pregnancy, all you were for her was a cashback. Your father already had an heir, and what could be better if that heir was also part of The Seven, the most powerful supes of the planet. Of course, Vought shares would be higher than ever and your mother would be even more disgustingly rich. And you would be giving everything away for free. It wasn't fair for your selfish mother to suck your life away like this. But in the end, she didn't care.

"I'm not staying here. I'm leaving," you continued, crossing your arms on your chest. "I want my part of dad's inheritance, and I'm gonna be a fucking doctor and show off my brain after decades of hiding it, I've had enough of you stopping me."

"No, no, baby, you can't do this to me–"

"If you don't, I'll sue you and expose you, Vought and Homelander on a fucking trial."

She scoffed. You could see the tears forming on her eyes, but you weren't sure if they were because of you leaving or because you were threatening her money.

"You won't do that. They'll kill you."

"I don't care, I already tried to kill myself. They'd be doing me a favor."

At your confession, her jaw clenched and she tightened her fists.

"Fucking brat. Someday, when you regret running away from me, don't come back. You're just a disappointment for me, ever since you were a stupid child. Everything you are is useless and worthless, and I regret ever putting you in my womb."

Your brows furrowed when she spilled those harsh words, and you fought the urge of hitting her until she passed out.

"Don't think I ever told you, but yeah, you weren't a natural conceive. Yeah, we used his sperm and everything. The point is- I didn't want fucking kids, but your dad, ugh god, he did. And I gave you to him. All I get to say is, I was better without you. Probably if I should've waited just a little, my child wouldn't be a fucking ungrateful piece of shit standing right here," she gave you a grin. A sick one, as her fingers ran through your hair like she used to when you were a little girl.

You wanted to knock her off and run. But you just stood there, biting the inside of your cheek and tasting your own blood as she finally revealed herself to you, her daughter. It was clear you meant nothing to her. And you just wished your dad would be alive. He wouldn't force you into that stupid audition anyway.

"I pity you," she mocked. "But if that's what you wanna do, then leave. And don't you dare to come back."

A loud knock on his door woke him up from a deep slumber. Ben rubbed his eyes, groaning at the stupid sound of your voice calling him from the other side over and over. This was becoming a fucking routine he was starting to hate.

"Fucking shit," he mumbled, removing the blankets off his bare body when the door finally opened and you walked inside, stopping by his side of the bed.

"C'mon, Soldier Boy, get your ass up. You didn't wash the dishes last night."

Ben rolled on the bed and looked at the clock in the nightstand. He grunted. "It's fucking 6 A.M."

"Yes, and I have shit to do before I leave grocery shopping," you said, looking around his room. There were clothes everywhere you knew needed a good wash, an open bag with weed on top of the desk, joints and cigarettes, and a bunch of toilet paper littered on the floor you didn't want to know about. "One of them is watching you to make sure you clean the cave you live in."

Ben groaned, cursing under his breath, but stood up from the mattress with a wide grin. He noticed you always did your best to keep your eyes upon his face. Even if it wasn't the first time you had to see him like this, he enjoyed the way your body and face reacted to his naked form. So he got used to sleeping with no clothes on, knowing you'd always come to get him for breakfast. He could get used to it. Except for the part where he had to clean shit. That's why you were there. It was your fucking task to clean everything. Women's duties. But he had to endure the fucking times.

He got to complain to you every single day, every morning, and it was becoming already part of his routine too. But you somehow forced him to clean shit up and then he had to wait for his food, for his weed, lube and more clothes and shit you brought every time you were out. At some point, he thought he could be used to you feeding him up, but he still had a mission and it didn't matter how many times he had been sneaking into every room in your place, checking inside your office, how many times he had been searching through your bedroom on the drawers and smelling your lingerie, he still found nothing. He was pretty sure there was something else he wasn't really seeing yet. And Homelander on the TV along with those fuckers Victoria and Dakota Bob wasn't making his personal mission any easier, nor having no clue of where this kid Ryan was.

"Put some pants on," you said, interrupting his daydream.

"Whatever," Ben rolled his eyes and walked past you, taking a pair of pants from the carpeted floor.

"God, you're so fucking stoned," you mumbled watching as he dressed himself. "Get this mess cleaned after the dishes, I don't want to greet this shithole every morning."

"And what's in it for me, doll?" he asked, passing by your side and getting inside the bathroom.

He never bothered to shut the door closed while taking a piss, and this was, also, something you got used to seeing and hearing. When he finished, he came back with a smirk, stopping his tracks right in front of you.

"Nothing. There's nothing for you, stop acting like a dog begging for a bone."

"Yeah, well I'd like your pretty bones better.”

He gave you a wink and walked out the bedroom. God, he was so damn annoying. You followed him quickly and climbed down the stairs just to make sure he would start washing the dirty dishes from the last dinner you had.

“Make sure to scrub them correctly,” you said as you looked at how he turned on the sink.

Ben grunted in frustration, looking at you from the corner of his eye. It was always the fucking same with you, giving him directions he already knew the whole time.

“Fuck, woman, you’re so fucking annoying. I’m no damn pussy, I can do this without your ass here.”

The way he answered made you grin, getting closer to him until your arm was pressed against his own. “Yeah, I know you’re not stupid. I’m just making sure I’m taming you well.”

Ben’s eyes widened a little, clearly surprised by your boldness but not too much. Because the one who should be taming who, was him towards you. His macho self wouldn’t let a woman treat him like that. It didn’t matter he was hitting on you since the moment he met you in the facility, like doctor and patient. Ben was pretty sure that, besides his own personal payback, you would fall for him eventually. And once you do, because he was pretty sure it’d happen sooner or later, he would give you the best fuck ever. He turned his gaze to you as you looked at him with innocent eyes.

“I’d shut my mouth if I were you, sweetheart,” Ben warned in a low voice, taking in your figure standing so close to him that your warmth could be felt all along his body. “I don’t wanna screw you yet.”

“I take that as a challenge.”

The sun was almost setting down as you drove back home. It took you more than expected to complete the second shopping trip of the week and you were getting tired and spent. Sleep was becoming a privilege at this point. The past nights you had confined yourself to the lab down the bunker, and just now, you felt the cure was ready. Almost ready. The most important component was missing and you were still considering things you might regret later.

The low sound of the radio accompanied your thoughts as you traveled on the road, and the ways you’d like to tell Soldier Boy about all the mess you were getting into under Grace’s supervision, who had just called two fucking times in days. But part of you was afraid Ben wouldn’t understand the importance of a cure. He was a supe, and without his powers, he was fucking nothing. Just like Homelander. Even if he had made it clear that he hated his own son, you doubted to trust him and you felt the same hateful feeling towards you coming from him. At this point, you knew you were just putting up a stupid act.

And you started wondering if it should’ve been easier if you just let him between your legs and take what he wanted. He was a simple man; he saw a fuckable female, he wanted her. Surely you also knew when a man, woman, or anyone was attractive, but you just didn’t want that. You didn’t want him to feel like he won this battle. It was too fucking much, and you stopped sleeping around with strangers a couple of years back. The problem was, Ben wasn’t a stranger anymore, not to you.

Suddenly, a figure landed a few feet away from you on the highway. You hit the brake of your car as fast as your reflexes allowed you to, seeing red, blue and white. Once your car stopped completely, you met with the last person you’d ever wanted to see. Homelander smiled widely as you locked eyes with him through the windshield. He surrounded the car until he came by your side, standing outside your door. You turned on the flashing lights of the car and turned the engine off, it wasn't like you could escape anyway.

“Nice to see you around, doc,” he greeted.

“Why are you following me?”

“I told you before; I have eyes on you.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing tightly the wheel between your hands. “I don't know what you want me to do.”

“Don’t be stupid. That cure won’t see the light, I’m making sure of that,” Homelander leaned on your open window and your head moved away slightly as he studied the insides of your car. “You’re welcome by the way.”

“For what? For trying to kill me? For taking my father’s money for your stupid circus? For touching me?” you hissed.

He chuckled, straightening himself again. “For taking you out, silly.”

A long sigh escaped your lips. “So this is your plan in the end.”

“It always has been. I know every move you make, the stores you go each week, I even know where you’re living right now and how you work your ass off that stupid experiment of yours,” his words made you visibly tense and he noticed, like every little reaction coming from you. “How’s the old man doing by the way?” he asked, as if it was just another chat between friends.

“You make me sick.”

“Oh, no. I want you healthy,” Homelander placed a hand on your wrist. “Please eat well and rest enough. Don’t burn yourself out, honey, it's useless.”

You started shaking your head, confusion fogging your mind at the way he talked like he had something prepared for you. “You’re fucked, Homelander,” you whispered.

You were trying to convince yourself more than him, scared of what he would do to you, forcing you into this twisted mouse and cat game. He just smiled widely at your words, laughing under his breath.

“Once I have you under my mercy,” you continued, holding his gaze. “You’re gonna be fucking nothing. I promise you that.”

His hand wrapped around your neck and for a moment you thought he would kill you right there. “I can’t wait to see you try and fail miserably, I’ll enjoy that show. Might become my favorite.”

Homelander let go of his grip roughly, allowing you to breathe again.

“Fuck you,” you spat back.

He chuckled, straightening himself and walking away from your car, giving you a last glance. “Not yet, doctor. Not yet.”

Once back in the spot where he landed, he flew away and you were left alone on the road. No cars, nor people walking could be seen, but it was better that way. Forcing your hands to stop shaking, you turned the engine on again and started to drive back home. Taking your phone out, you made a call, waiting for the other line to answer. You had to act fast and track that motherfucker down, not caring if you were already regretting what you’d do next.

“So, what’s your story?”

His question surprised you more than you could tell. After dinner nights like this were becoming a really weird habit of him talking shit about this stupid century, how things were better back then and how people got dumber with time. But you never thought Soldier Boy would insist on your past, not since the first night you ate together at the same table. You finished your glass of whisky, not sure if answering his question or not.

You shrugged. “I’m not that interesting.”

Ben drank his own liquor down before asking again. “Let me rephrase that: why do you hate Vought so much?”

“Who says I hate them?”

He studied your face for a moment. The look in your eyes told nothing, but your heart rate and your breathing was always enough for him to know you were fucking lying about it. Ben had started to think of many other things you were hiding from him. But even with all that stupid mask covering you, he wanted to have you. Countless times he tried, he wasn’t going anywhere now. Nobody could resist him, you were just another game to play and he was kind of enjoying it.

“All of you. You scream inside that you want to fuck them up,” he answered. “Believe me, I want nothing more than that.”

“Didn’t you have your own payback some months ago?”

“Yes, but you already know that from my file. I’m asking about you now.”

His intense green eyes and the grit on his words caused you to think exactly what to say. You couldn’t hide it anymore, not everything at least.

“My mom. Vought experimented on her when she was pregnant, that’s why I have powers,” you said, dry and straight to the point.

“How?”

You breathed out, closing your eyes for a moment, not believing he would force you to remember the memories you had been fighting to erase.

“She was paid a huge amount of money. And she hoped her daughter would join Vought someday; she was so wrong about that,” you gave a bittersweet chuckle. “On my eighth birthday, I finally discovered my powers. There was this huge party and a lot of my parent’s rich friends and their kids, whom I didn’t know because I had no friends, were there. And then, I just remember I got overwhelmed by all these people and the attention. I always hated that. And then, my mother couldn’t find me when it was cake time. I was in my room but she couldn’t see me there. Turned out I was invisible… It was the first and the only time I could make my clothes and my shoes disappear with me.”

Ben listened attentively, much to your surprise, as he spoke once again, locking his eyes with yours. “So your powers come from your inner wish of disappearing from your mother’s sight.”

You hummed and nodded your head. “I think that’s a great way of putting it, but yes.”

“Well, I'll take it back. They fucked your life too, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, and they’re still after you anyway.”

He scoffed. “Those fucking cocksuckers. Also, where the fuck is Grace anyway? All the CIA bullshit?” he asked, quickly changing the topic abruptly, his eyes narrowing as he demanded an answer.

“No news from her apparently, nor any agents.”

“Bullshit, your last call with her was a couple of days ago and you said nothing.”

“Why are you so invested in her? You like her?” you mocked, noticing how his resemblance switched from calm to visibly annoyed. There was no fucking way you’d tell him where she was right now.

“Y’know what I’d like? A fucking reasonable answer from you, that’d be perfect,” he snarled, and you knew he was back being stubborn and childish asking the same fucking shit all the time.

“I don’t know, but when I do I’ll tell you,” you responded after remaining silent under his angry stare.

“You’ve been saying the same shit over and over—”

“Okay, so tell me what you want. You want Homelander. Good, and then what?”

He held your stare, you noticed he was trying to keep himself down. “The kid.”

“Ryan?”

“Yes, the fucking brat.”

His hard eyes were not lying and you argued back on it.

“You can’t do that, there has to be another way.”

“Fucking tell me where it is. ‘Cause I see nothing!” he shouted, his voice booming all over the room. “That fucking pussy and his fucking team, they all had him right there. And in a second, Butcher just backed up! I could’ve done it already and we wouldn’t be here, playing dollhouse.”

Spilling the truth was no option right now. He was stupidly pissed right now. But you knew it was cruel to hunt a kid down just because his father had put him into the spotlight thanks to his powers. Ben, on the other hand, was blinded by his hatred towards Homelander, and you knew he was a man of his word. He was more than able to kill Homelander and the boy for a deal, one that was broken because of a weak moment coming from Butcher. Even for your morally gray head, killing Ryan was not an option. At least not now. You hated Homelander, but you probably understood Butcher more than you’d like to admit. Soon, you would think about a plan; where to put the kid after injecting the anti V.

“Let me give you a lead when I can,” you said.

“Tell me why should I trust you.”

“It’s your choice, honestly. Probably you shouldn’t, but I may give you something sooner or later.”

Without waiting for his response, you took the empty dishes to the sink, and Ben followed you with his eyes, taking in the softness of your exposed skin through the short summer dress. He liked the way the fabric hugged your curves and how it fell over your legs, inviting him to have a taste. Ben noticed you putting on shorts and dresses more often the last few days, and he was thankful for the hot weather to be able to see you like this. The past nights, he had jerked off with you in mind, wondering when he’d be the man to put you in place. Perhaps he just needed to try again.

He got on his feet as you talked, but none of the things coming out of your mouth were important as he put his weight behind your body, his hands roaming over your arms before you got to start washing the dirty plates.

“Do you not get tired of trying?” you breathed out.

You felt his rough hands caressing your arms, before moving down your waist, pressing your ass against the bulge growing on his pants. He smiled to himself once he heard the loud gasp coming from your mouth.

“Just tell me you haven’t thought about it,” he whispered, placing his lips down your neck, nipping softly at your sensitive skin, as he massaged your flesh, going to the curve of your ass.

“And when you get this, what?” you asked, turning around to meet his dark eyes. He was practically devouring you with his stare. You’d be lying if you didn’t find him hot, looking at you like that, as if you were the last and only meal that could end his greedy hunger.

He smiled, and whispered cockily against your lips. “You can always ask me for a second round.”

Fuck it.

You captured his lips in an impatient kiss, nibbling at his bottom lip with urgency as you tasted the whisky from his mouth, your breaths mixing and panting as he lifted you up without further effort. Ben walked towards the countertop in the middle of your kitchen, placing you on the surface as he spread your legs. You welcomed him closer, feeling his hands traveling freely under the thin fabric of your dress, feeling the softness of your legs, your inner thighs, until he rubbed over your panties. You let out a moan against his mouth when his fingers found your folds and you held tightly against the corner of the countertop.

“You’re dripping, sweetheart,” he growled, breaking the kiss.

“It’s been a while, ohfuck!”

A shiver ran down your spine as he stretched your pussy with one thick finger, his lips trailed down your neck to your collarbone, sucking and nipping on your skin. Your walls fluttered as he pumped in and out, and your hips set a move on its own. He hissed against your skin as he worked you open and ready for his hard cock, growing excitedly in his pants. A second finger slipped in and you clenched.

Ben smirked and you felt the burning feeling of his beard as he kissed your shoulder. You wondered how he’d feel between your legs, bruising your inner thighs with his big hands and the burning of his facial hair. The frantic fucking from his fingers pushed you to the edge, moaning and panting for air as his thumb played with your clit. You gripped on his forearms, looking for something to hold on tight as you reached that sweet high.

“Fuck, you did so well,” he praised, pulling his fingers out of your pussy, leaving you empty. He brought his wet fingers to your lips and you complied, opening your mouth. You licked his fingers, locking your eyes with his. “Wonder what twirls your pretty mouth has for me,” Ben pushed his fingers further, making you gag for a bit. “I’ve been thinking of hundreds of ways of finally holding your tongue with my cock.”

His other hand wrapped your neck, as he forced you to suck his fingers harder, hitting your gag reflex over and over. He discovered he loved hearing your breathy sounds and the dirty look in your eyes while you sucked his digits. When he pulled out his fingers from your mouth, you took in a deep breath, but the grip on your neck grew tighter as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“You’ll have to go down on me first if you want my mouth,” you whispered against his lips.

Ben could hear your heart racing, and he was sure you got all dizzy and bothered just by his hand. “Oh, is that so?” he rasped.

You rolled your eyes, growing impatient. “Why don’t you shut up and fuck me hard?”

And there it was. They’d always beg for him in the end. He smiled down at you, loosening the grip around your throat. “With pleasure.”

His hands wasted no time in getting rid of your dress, discarding your panties and your bra ripping them in half. You moaned when his palms groped on your tits, playing with your nipples and squeezing them harshly. God, you were getting wet again just by the feeling of his mouth biting on your soft buds. Quickly, you reached for his pants, touching his hard cock over the fabric. Ben growled, feeling the softness of your palm stroking him gently. Good choice not wearing anything underneath. Your other hand tugged at his shirt until it was discarded over the floor, his pants following after.

He got you off the countertop so your feet were on the ground, and turned you swiftly, laying you down on your chest on the cold surface. He massaged the sides of your hips, running down his palms over your ass with a hiss.

“Now this is quite a view.”

You moaned as his fingers played with your entrance. “Fuck, Ben, just do it already.”

“Shit, doll, I love when you beg.”

He stroked his cock with your juices before aligning with your pussy, slowly sliding in your wet heat. He stretched you out inch by inch, and you became a whimpering mess. After a moment of staying still balls deep in your wet core, he snapped his hips against your ass, setting a brutal pace. Loud moans and screams escaped your throat. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You knew your fingers stopped being enough each time you needed sweet release, and probably you would regret him fucking you later, but right now you didn’t care. His fingers inside your cunt, the way he would handle your body like a feather just for his disposition and to get off with, and now his cock filling you up was becoming too much. But you loved it.

Soldier Boy felt too good inside you, fucking your brains over and over. His hands bruising your hips, groping the flesh of your ass and breasts, as he pounded into you, everything was like heaven and you were sure you’d be spent once it was over. His dark, lusty eyes memorized every inch of your body and the way your pussy engulfed his dick with each thrust. The kitchen was filled with your whimpers and his animalistic growls, mixed with the sound of his skin hitting against your own. He hit on that sweet spot repeatedly, making your walls clench around his cock.

“Jesus, you’re coming pretty quickly today,” Ben teased under his breath, his fingers tangling in your hair pulling your back against his muscular chest. “Wait for me, doll,” he whispered in your ear, satisfied on how fucked out and desperate you were underneath.

“Do it fast, you asshole! Fuck!”

Your pussy fluttered and clenched on his cock as he hit your spot again. With a loud moan, you finally reached the climax you longed for so long, and took his deep, rough thrusts as he fucked you through bliss. His name escaped your throat countless times, coming down from your high. Ben growled, your orgasm and the spasms of your cunt triggered his own, and he finally released himself inside your tight pussy.

And how good it felt to finally have you there, begging and crying for his cock. It was so much better than his own imagination, and he took in great pleasure on fucking the brat out of you. He continued bucking his hips until his white seed started leaking down your thighs, and finally stopped. The only sound in the room being your tired breaths.

“Oh, shit,” you gasped, feeling his grip on your scalp softening.

He sucked on your neck one last time with a cocky grin on his lips. “I told you I’d be a great fuck, sweetheart.”

“I wish you could shut up for once,” you answered back, looking at him from your side, and feeling his cock softening inside you. “I might have my methods.”

He bucked his hips one more time. A whimper escaped past your lips as he pulled you back against his chest in a swift motion, his fingers traced your neckline. “So do I, doll.”

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy imagines #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys soldier boy #the boys amazon prime #the boys tv #jensen ackles fanfiction #soldier boy/ben #jensen ackles the boys

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ultralightpoe · 1 year

Text

Tiktok Trouble Pt 2- Jake Seresin

Authors Note: LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO SEE MORE

Word Count: 2253

Warnings: Allusions to smexy times

Description: You love pranking your husband, and tiktok loves it too

Authors Plea: Hey guys! I love likes and reblogs and I thank you all so so much. BUT I LIVE FOR COMMENTS! I really enjoy when you guys tell me what you like and dislike and what you want to see more of, so I beg for more comments. LOVE YOU ALL!

Enjoy!

The morning of your errands had started off salty with Jake, who content with bitching about everything, and you had gotten just as snippy with him considering you had been in such a good mood when you both left the house. But he had worn you down, now you were sitting in the car with your thighs sticking to his leather seats like crazy (he hated air conditioning and the heat was just clinging to you) while he ran in and grabbed what he needed from this store.

Normally Jake would take you in with him, but today he made a snippy comment about not wanting to be in there forever so you rolled your eyes and turned the music up as he got out, cracking the windows like you were a dog.

It’s here you got the idea.

You had taken a break from posting pranks on tiktok, your guys’ sink had actually busted (Jake was so happy he watched the videos) and one of his old navy brothers had lost their lives so you both had flown out for the funeral. After that everything just seemed to be too busy, and Jakes mood was ever so cranky as of late. But today seemed like a good day to try and lighten the mood. So you set up your phone and waited, once you saw him come out of the store you began fighting something in the backseat.

Jake, as first, seems to think you are looking for something and when he gets into the car he slaps your thigh lightly. “What’d you lose?”

“NOTHING! BUT THIS BITCH HAS LOST HER MIND!” You snap and start swinging at an imaginary figure in the back. Jake stops and stares at you, leaning against his door as he tries to figure out what is going on while you act out a very angry fight.

“What. Is. Happening?”

“Bubs, she’s running her fucking mouth to me right now- seriously? No YOUR MOM-” You are about to swing at the air again and he catches your hand, pulling you back and reaching to feel your forehead.

“We should get you some water-”

“Mind your fucking business!” You shout to the back and your husband nods aggressively and turns to the back to snap out a ‘bitch’ before turning to you and moving to buckle you in.

“You tell her. You tell that….bitch?” He really doesn’t seem to know what to do, so he simply buckles you and reaches for the water bottle he brought, that’s when he sees your phone. “Oh for the love of-”

You’re laughing your ass off and he’s covering his face as you turn off the video. “Really?! I was so confused!”

“I’m sorry. You were being such a sourpuss this morning and I HAD TO!” You laugh, kissing his elbow as he continues rubbing his face. “Love you bubs.”

“I love you too. Even when I think you’re batshit crazy.”

—------------------------

COMMENTS:

“The thigh slap- PLEASE LORD I’LL BE GOOD-”

“LMAO, when he finally just gives in and helps”

“SNSJKSJJANNX X I WANT THEM BOTH! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!”

“Y/n has now proven she can fight anyone that tries to take her man”

—-----------------------

“Sugar?!” Jake calls from the bottom of the stairs, tapping his foot a little impatiently as he waits for your response. You, being the perfect wife who would never do anything wrong in her life ever, closed out the webpage of adoptable dogs that your husband specifically said no to and ran to the stairs.

“Yeah bubs? What’s up?” You smile, watching his face morph into suspicion.

“Didn’t like that one bit- but I need to run to the store and figure out what pipes match our sink. You’ll be okay here?”

“Will I be okay in the air conditioned house with my handsome husband out going to get stuff for our sink? All lonely and sad and ever so hor-”

“Okay okay, just gimme a kiss.” He laughs, waiting for you to run down the stairs and kiss him before you get an idea and run back up the stairs as he leaves.

You snatch your phone and film a quick video of him getting into the car before screen recording yourself texting him ‘Come over he just left’ once you are sure he’s down the block. Then you wait, until you hear a sharp screech and see his car zooming into the driveway. You set up your phone to record on his dresser and run to your shared bathroom as he books it up the stairs.

“Y/n?” He asks when he reaches the bedroom, looking nothing less of pissed.

“Yeah bubs? I thought you were going out?” You call from the bathroom, fixing your hair as you waited.

“I decided that you broke the sink and should come with me.” He says sternly, crossing his arms and leaning on your dresser, the camera catching his jaw flex perfectly. You swing the door open with wide eyes looking nothing less than excited.

“Can we stop for pops?” You know he loves when you say pops instead of soda, and he tries not to smile.

“As soon as you tell me what dumbass you were trying to sleep with in OUR BED.” He snaps, giving you a tight lipped smile with his arms still crossed.

“Ohhhh yeah…. About that….” You smile, pointing to the camera and watching his face relax instantly. “Say hi to your fans bubs-”

“Are you trying to kill me?” He laughs, pulling you in to kiss you before standing up and walking to the door. “Grab your phone and purse. You’re still coming with me.”

—--------------------

COMMENTS:

“Girl, he’s MILITARY. Are you trying to get hit?”

– “STFU, that man does not hit woman unless they ask. Watch their other vids”

“The way his arms flex when he crosses them. I see now why she likes pissing him off.”

“They f***ed in the car. FOR SURE”

—--------------------

Before Jake got home from work you had hot glued the olive jar while taping it, then started cooking dinner while you waited. When you heard the sound of his keys in the door you started filming, leaving your phone on the table as you moved back to the stove.

“Evenin’ Sugar.” He smiles, moving to you and kissing your shoulder as you move a cheek to him so he can kiss that as well. “Whatcha makin’?”

“Your in a good mood, that southern drawl comes out when you are.” You smile, watching him set his keys on the counter and reach across you to steal a green bean.

“Watched Rooster do 100 pushups.” He laughs before wrapping his arms around you. “What time do your parents get here?”

“About an hour- can you open that jar for me?” You ask sweetly pointing to the jar of olives you had glued.

“What do I get out of it?” He teases, already snatching the jar. He tugs on it once, twice, then he gets frustrated and puts all his strength into it, face pinching up as he grunts out. “You’re kidding me..”

“Can’t get it?” You ask, moving closer as he tries again, grunting and turning red. “How about you go get changed and try again when you come back?”

He nods, setting it down with a face of disbelief and allowing you to kiss his cheek before running off to change. You snatch the jar and take it to the fridge, replacing it with the jar you hadn’t glued, setting it up. When you know he is within eyepoint you grab the fresh jar and pop it open with ease.

“WOAH BABY!” He laughs, picking you up and spinning you around. “I married she hulk.”

“It wasn’t that hard.”

“Now you’re just hurtin my feeling- HEY GOTCHA!” He spots the camera, keeping you lifted in one arm while he points at it. “You tried messing with me and I busted ya-”

“Okay okay- put me down.” You laugh, gripping his shoulder to not fall. “Bubs-”

“Nope!” He laughs, reaching for the sink hose and dousing you with it making you squeal.

—--------------

COMMENTS:

“I think he is finally catching on”

“Making us all wet- oop”

—---------------

The next prank a whole two weeks, both of you getting busy with work and not having much time together besides sleeping, but you finally had a day off….which meant torturing your husband obviously.

You had woken up before him and gotten ready, doing your hair and makeup just the way he liked whilst picking an outfit you knew he loved before walking downstairs and putting a little heart over the date on the calendar just to fool him a little more.

He trudged downstairs while you were on the phone with your parents, taking a second to lean on the counter and admire you while drinking the coffee you already prepared for him, wiggling his eyebrows when you turned to him while talking.

What he didn’t know was that you were talking on a fake phone whilst yours was hidden on a shelf filming him. “Yes! I’m very excited for tonight, I think Jake is gonna try to surprise me.”

His eyebrows stop wiggling and pinch together in confusion as he pulls the cup away from his lips, mouthing a ‘what’ as you point to the calendar and then leave the room to keep ‘talking to your parents’.

Your husband looks at the calendar and sees the heart, head snapping to the side as he tries to think about what today was supposed to be. “Crap crap crap-”

The only problem came when your phone actually started ringing, drawing his attention to where it was hidden to film. “AHA!”

You laugh from the other room, knowing you were busted and the prank had failed, walking in to watch him flip the camera off and turn it off. “You haven’t been on your a game , lovely wife. I expect better.”

“Bring it on then.” You smile, enjoying the cocky smile that fills his face.

—------------

So you upped your game, you bought a couple cameras to hide around and you thought of some great ideas. Jake Seresin was gonna regret marrying you.

The first day he was gone on a mission you decided that instead of worrying about your husbands safety you would rather learn the WAP dance to piss him off when he gets back. The day after his return he is laying on the couch with his eyes closed (you made him tired after a long night in his defense) and you decide that you want to show him a tiktok dance.

“Okay I’m gonna set up the phone here,” You explain, leaning it against your tv before taking a couple steps back for dancing room.

“Oh so I know where the camera is this time?” He teases, you snort and try not to look where the mini camera is hidden by his game console.

“Just watch-” You laugh, playing the song. His eyes widen when it starts playing and then you start dancing and he is shooting up. By the time the song got to the actual WAP part he is dashing to snatch you up of the floor.

“No ma’am.” He laughs, hanging you in the air like a dog that just got busted.

“WAIT! THERE IS MORE!” You laugh as he goes to turn the phone off.

“Sorry Sugar but I really don’t need the squad seeing my gorgeous wife dancin’ like a stripper all over the internet. Save it for the bedroom.” He sets you down and smacks your ass harshly while laughing before he leaves the room thinking you hadn’t gotten any of that on film….sucker.

—---------------

COMMENTS:

“THE LAUGH AFTER HE SPANKED HER! STFU FNJENFJDBSB”

“LET HER FINISH THE DANCE! NOOOOO-”

—----------------

“JAKE SERESIN!” You shout, winking to the camera that was hidden in the kitchen and wait. The second you shouted with an angry tone you heard his phone drop and the sound of his feet hitting the stairs to rush to you. Once you were sure he could see you, you pretend to be angry.

You have your arms crossed and a harsh glare as he comes into the kitchen looking like a little puppy.

“Yes Sugar?”

“You got something you wanna tell me?” You ask, taking a step back when he takes a step for you. His eyes flash hurt and for a second you wanna tell him it’s a prank, but you double down and wait.

“I….I uhm- well…..I forgot our anniversary?” He guesses, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. “No! Wait! I missed your families monthly dinner- no w-”

“Final answer?”

“Wait, Y/n baby, just tell me what I did. No gimme a hint.” He rushes, falling to his knees. THE MAN ACTUALLY FELL TO HIS KNEES, and grabbed at your thighs. You break then, laughing and grabbing his jaw softly.

“Just a prank babe.” You smile, kissing his temple and he whips back to glare.

“You know what?”

“What?”

“I’m gonna make a tiktik and start pranking you!” He seethes and you crack up, but he shakes his head. “You’re laughing now, but you just started a war sugar.”

“Bring it on Bubs.”

“Oh I will.” He flips off your phone which makes you laugh harder already knowing that the phone wasn’t recording and he kisses your cheek before walking off.

“See you soon…..”

—--------------

COMMENTS:

H_ngman: You have been warned!

Mrs.Bagman: Bring it on!!!

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