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mochie85 · 5 months

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Blue Christmas

One-Shots Masterlist | Complete Masterlist | Secret Santa Masterlist

Summary: You ask Loki to give you something special for Christmas. A/N: This is a Secret Santa gift for @divine-knight-hand. I wanted to give you everything you requested, my love, but I already wrote something similar a while ago. For the sake of not sounding repetitive, I altered your request just a little bit. I hope you still like it. However, please check out the other story because it checks off all your points! And is Christmas-themed! Mayari: If You Let Me. Also, sorry for the cringy title. I couldn't think of anything else. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: Over 2.7k Warnings: Explicit. Smut. P in V. Jotunn Loki (yes, cuz he's a whole warning!)

You crossed your legs as the last rays of the sun were trickling down on your body. Your book was discarded on the ground as the condensation from your Pina Colada dripped down onto the side table.

Loki had surprised you and whisked you away to the Fiji Islands for Christmas— no more crowded New York streets. No more dirty ice falling onto you from the splash of an oncoming taxicab. And certainly, no more missions and assignments till the New Year.

It had been an exhaustive nineteen-hour flight. Especially since he didn’t tell you anything he was planning. When you came home to your room earlier that day, you were greeted by Loki with two suitcases on either side of him.

“Merry Yuletide, Darling,” he said as he rolled your luggage over to you and kissed you on your lips in greeting.

“Loki- what?”

“No time to explain, we need to leave now in order to catch our flight,” he said ushering you out the door by patting you on the bum. You jumped up with giddiness, planting a lipstick-stained kiss on his cheek. He was always surprising you with little trinkets and excursions.

“Thank you, sir,” you said in a deep voice.

“Ooh, you dangerous nymph. Go on. I need my wits about me till we get on the plane. I can’t have you distracting me.”

“Then, after?” you asked luring him to a sinful promise.

“After,” he promised in the same breathy tone.

That was two days ago. Loki had kept his promise, and then some- inducting you both into the mile-high club several times over.

Now, here you were in a private villa surrounded by an infinity pool that stretched towards the Pacific, watching your godly boyfriend come out of the water. He ran his hands through his hair, combing the droplets from his tresses. Beads fell down the defined lines of his muscles causing you to heat up in the already balmy weather.

The sight of Loki, wet and in nothing but short swim trunks, was enough to make you convulse. You were sure that if Michelangelo had a model for David, it would’ve been Loki. And knowing Loki, you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was him.

He came up to you, lounging on your chair, and shook his wet hair in front of you to tease you. “St-stop!” you laughed as you playfully pushed him before you got completely wet.

“Awe, come on, Darling. I thought you liked me wet?” he charmed as he sat next to you and leaned in for a kiss.

“I have to admit, it is kind of refreshing.” You said as your hands guided themselves around his slick body. “It’s so hot here. I might need something to cool me down,” you tempted.

There was a flash of understanding in his face. Nights of hedonistic pleasure and anticipation of his moods taught you how to read him. If you weren’t so attuned to him- so zealously infatuated with him and his praise over you, you would have missed it. But you didn’t.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Nothing. I just-” he paused for a second, trying to find the right words. “There was a reason why I chose Fiji.”

“You mean, the beautiful waters and sandy beaches weren’t enough of a reason?” you joked.

“It’s in the southern hemisphere. Which means that it’s summer here whilst still cold and winter back home.”

“Why would the season be an issue?”

“Contingency.”

“Contingency, for what?” you asked confused.

“It was about what you wanted for Christmas,” he answered slowly. Confusion still clouding your memory. Little bits and pieces of a long-forgotten conversation nipped at your mind as you tried to piece together what you had asked him to give you.

As if to remind you, Loki raised his hand and cupped your face. As he did so, his fingers turned a beautiful shade of blue. It was fair, yet sharp. It reminded you of the color of blue thistles on a cold afternoon.

As he touched your cheek, a shiver ran down your skin making you shudder for the first time since you arrived. Realization struck you as you remembered the conversation you two had a month ago.

“I think I know what I want for Christmas,” you lured him in. “And what is that, my Darling?” Loki said absentmindedly while looking through his mission briefing. “You." “You already have me,” he scoffed, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I meant…all of you…the other you…” you trailed silently. Loki looked at you bewildered. There were many nights he had dreamt of taking you in his other form, wondering how you would react to him. He’s postponed showing you this long because he was afraid of his feral nature. He would be at the mercy of his urges and base needs. Loki wasn’t quite sure how to ease you into that new situation. Would he be too much for you? Knowing your adventurous spirit, you wouldn’t mind having his beastly side take you. “Why, you little nymph. Now, why would you want to see that side of me, hmm?”

Excitement bubbled up inside you. “Loki, I-” you started, but he quickly put a finger to your lips to quiet you.

“I want this, Darling. And I want it with you. So, if at any point in time, you want to stop, you know our safe word.” You nodded your head enthusiastically and Loki chuckled. “But I should let you know, that…there was a reason why I’ve waited this long to show you. I become somewhat different when I change. Jotunns, in their very nature, are severe. Harsher. They have to be, to live in the climate they do, and survive.”

You sat there, fervently hanging onto every word Loki was saying. “We relied upon each other for strength, for warmth, basic needs…” Loki trailed off, tracing your lower lip with his cold finger. “You can imagine the creativity we had in finding ways to keep our blood warm and stave off the frigid climate.” You nodded solemnly at his words as if they were gospel.

“If we do this, I need you to be in control. Do you understand me, Darling?” he asked, inching closer to you. You felt a shiver run down your body. You focused on his eyes as his lips weaved a spell for you to follow. “I won’t know how much is too much. How rough is too rough.”

Loki grabbed your hips and sat you on his lap. The sudden move made you yelp into his arms. “Sorry, my dear. You see, I’m already too excited. My body is reacting to you.” He ran his nose up and down your neck. His cold hands encircled your back, caging you on top of him. “I’ve wanted to take you like this for so long.” His hands entwined themselves with your hair and pulled as his lips met yours in a crushing kiss.

You held on tightly, with your legs wrapped around his waist, as Loki stood up and walked both of you to the edge of your bed. When he broke the kiss, you heard him moan before he continued to suck a bruise onto your neck.

You felt his body change. The hairs atop your skin began to stand as the temperature began to drop. The once-sweltering heat that prickled your skin was replaced by the cool tingles of his touch. It surrounded you and enveloped you in a cold caress. You finally understood the need for a warmer climate. With a slight force, he released you from him, falling onto the soft mattress below.

That was when you had your first glimpse of his true self. The beautiful shade of blue you had seen earlier spread throughout his body. His form was somehow sharper, more jagged. Yet still soft and giving. He had markings defined by fine lines and grooves. They traced over his muscles and sinew, highlighting the best parts of himself. You followed them with your eyes as it led your stare down to his protruding cock. Your jaw went slack as you noticed how hard he was for you already.

Loki watched you appraise him. Your wanton eyes grew darker, and your breathing got quicker. His senses picked up every reaction that your body was going through. He was prepared to confront your fear or disgust, but he couldn’t see that in your face. Instead, he saw hunger and need. He could smell your desire growing for him and it made him feral. He wrapped his hands around his shaft, stroking himself to the sight of you, ready and waiting on his bed.

Loki felt ravenous as he knelt over you on top of the sheets. He spread your legs apart, seating himself in between the warmth of your thighs. His heavy cock resting atop your wet cunt. His hands eagerly tore up your swimsuit as they explored and venerated your body. His lip’s sole mission was to mark bruises where his hands had trailed, following the chill of his touch.

“…Loki…”

“Shh, Darling. I won’t hurt you. Unless you want me to,” he winked as he nipped the underside of your breast. Too many emotions. Too many thoughts. They were swirling at the forefront of his mind wanting to be said. His desire for you was overwhelming him.

In this form, he felt more primal. His emotions were stronger and almost frightening, but all he felt was fire. Everywhere. An all-consuming heat that wouldn’t dissipate until he had claimed you. His need for you was never as aggressive as it was right now. If he wasn’t careful, he knew he could easily hurt you. He needed you to be in control.

“Don’t stop,” you begged him.

“And what would you have me do my Darling?” he breathed onto your skin. “Tell me, and I will comply.” Loki was giving you the green light. The authority to take over because he wasn’t sure if he could be gentle enough not to harm you.

Oh, but the fire. The fire inside him wouldn’t relent. “Shall I force my cock down your throat till you gag for me to stop?” he suggested with a grin. You bit your lip and moaned as the image took hold in your mind. You moved your hips involuntarily, rubbing against his hefty shaft.

“Maybe I’ll edge you for the rest of our stay. Keep you here tied to our bed, my little slave, until I’ve properly bred you.” Loki seized your lips and held you down on the bed. His cold hands capture your wrist in an icy grip.

“S’cold,” you gritted.

“You can take it. You don’t mind a little bit of frostbite. Don’t you, my love?” He ground his hips as he bit into the soft flesh of your shoulder, leaving teeth marks in their wake. You felt his hard cock rub against your sensitive nub. It elicited the most erotic noise from your lips. Loki fought to keep his composure. With every moan you made, it got harder and harder for him to control his urges.

“I thought this was supposed to be my Christmas present,” you sighed, regaining some form of authority and clarity. You intertwined your fingers with his and signaled him to turn over with your hip. You pushed his shoulders down onto the bed as you straddled his waist.

Loki looked up at you in all your glory. Your beautiful face shining down with love and adoration was enough to heal the worry and anxiety he was feeling. “I want to admire my present,” you pouted as your eyes took all of him in.

His mischievous smile broke through as he raised his arms and placed his hands behind his head. “As you wish,” he hissed as the corded muscles in his biceps swelled.

You traced his beautiful blue markings down from his arms to his pecs. “You’re beautiful,” you whispered absent-mindedly, getting lost in the exploration of his body. Loki blushed at your words. He had never heard that word describe his Jotunn form before and it ignited a warm glow inside of him. Different than the fire, but still heated.

You leaned over him as your study led you to his neck and handsome face. You traced his dark lips as he opened them. His bright ruby eyes concentrated on you. “I love my present,” you whispered before you gently kissed him. “Thank you.”

Loki deepened the kiss, his tongue invading yours, as he wrapped his arms around you once again. His cold touch left a trail of goosebumps as he squeezed and grabbed your ass. He raised you slightly with one hand. And with the other, he guided himself into your entrance. The slick of your arousal coating the tip of his hard cock. “Are you ready for me?” he grunted. You nodded your head, keeping your lips on his, not wanting to break contact.

He thrust deep into your body. His heels held on against the mattress of the bed. He held your hips stable as he continued to drive upwards slowly- savoring how snug you were around him. Every pull of your tight pussy made him moan your name. “…yes…” he whined.

You sat up, holding onto his shoulders for support. “I need you, Loki,” you pleaded. Your nails dug into his dark skin as your hips took over his strokes. “…deeper…faster…”

“Take me then, Darling. Use me.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wanted to do this for you. To be good for you. With each push of your hips, he unraveled each time. Crowning to a tight knot in his abdomen.

You waited patiently for him to open his eyes and see the love and pride you had for him. When he did, you were met with an intense sparkle of carmine. Desire and vulnerability shone through, swirling in his gaze. His brows furrowed with pleasure as he bit his lip. “…oh, fuck…” he cried.

You moved faster. Your swollen clit rubbed against his dark curls adding to the already heightened pleasure you were building. You took his hands from your hips and guided them up your body. You placed them over your bouncing tits and he squeezed- rubbing your hardened nipple with his thumb.

“That’s my good little whore,” he gasped. “You like it rough don’t you?” You squeezed tighter around him in answer and Loki couldn’t stop the wolfish grin on his face.

He swallowed thickly watching you enjoy his touch. “Loki” you screamed. The only indication that you had reached your climax and was about to topple over. You trembled over his body screaming his name over and over as you came down from your bliss.

“Don’t stop, Darling.” He pushed harder into you. “Ride me,” he commanded. Loki watched as you clenched around his hard cock- disappearing into your wet folds. The sight was enough to make him tremble.

God, he was so much bigger in this form. You had to push hard to meet the hilt of his shaft. You raised your hips and dipped back down eliciting the deepest groan fleeing his lips. “That’s a good girl,” he whispered. “Fuckin’ good girl.” His head tilted back and the desire to claim you came back. He had to take you faster. Harder.

He dug his heels back into the mattress and slammed his hips upwards. The gasping air leaving your lungs, the wicked moans filling his ears. All of it coerced him to cum inside you- finally releasing his pent-up yearning. Loki couldn’t stop the moans or praises leaving his lips. Your name peppered in with teasing curses and praises. “You always know how to make me feel good, don’t you, pet?” he prized as he took a deep breath to steady his exhaustion.

“Mmm, yes sir.” You kissed him ardently, taking his breath away from his already spent lungs. You trailed your kisses down to his neck and onto his panting chest. Each kiss made your lips tingle and chilly.

“We should probably get ready for dinner. What say you, my love?”

“Hmm? Maybe in a while…I’m not done playing with my Christmas gift yet.” You responded as your lips traveled further down towards his already hardening cock.

Loki smiled as he closed his eyes, savoring the feel of your warm tongue on his cool skin. “In a while,” he repeated. “Fuck…in a while.”

🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @chrisevansmaindish ++

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Note

ooh im glad!!! so, expanding on that then..

how about price with a civvi wife/gf, and when they’re talking over the phone while he’s gone, she’s being kinda cagey and definitely omitting something, but he doesn’t know what. so when he gets back home she tells him she’s pregnant? really just a lot of fluff (and maybe angst? 👀 like about how his job is super dangerous and he might not come home, so he has fears about it?? bc your angst is so good it makes me sob violently /pos)

ive never sent a request before, so if this is too specific or something, feel free to whittle it down or toss it, i don’t wanna bug you lol

have a good day hal, love u!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Our Remains

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Synopsis: You disliked hiding things from John. Certainly something as big as this.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Pregnancy, allusions to breeding kink & unprotected seggsy time, morning sickness, angst, major fluff at the end

A/N: This was an adorable request, Anon!! Thanks so much for sending it in.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You disliked hiding things from John. It not only felt like a betrayal of his unlimited trust in you but also a slap in the face for what you had built with each other. The both of you were always honest to a fault when it came to your relationship—like how a bird was loyal to the sky. It was an unselfish principle; a promise of pure love and devotion that transcended touch or given gifts.

You told each other things. Everything. Down to how much you had spent on groceries that day just because it was something to talk about and share; something that made you closer to one another even when you were apart. You told the Brit what you planted in the back garden—what shirt you were wearing!

But now you hold the ringing phone in your hand and for the first time in your entire relationship, you consider lying.

Your eyes bore into the icon of John’s smiling face, head covered by a black beanie and beard tilted up softly. Affectionately, his name on the device had been changed to ‘Grumpy St. Bernard,’ but now the title made your lips go thin instead of the usual giggling reaction. No heat spreads over your cheeks; no excitement.

Just an overwhelming sense of dread.

The week had started just as the last three had. A special form of hell. At nearly six o’clock you would whip back the covers with all the fervor of a terrified rabbit being chased by a hawk; the taste of bile immediately snapping you to attention as the toilet acts as your commanding officer.

You imagined John would get a chuckle out of that comparison, but when you’re hurling up your guts in nothing more than a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers and a tank top it’s hard to think about all that. The taste of bile was still lickable from your lips as the bathroom tile digs into your knees, ringing phone still in your palm.

The idea of a pregnancy test slid into your subconscious in the first week of John’s two-month deployment, the tantalizing thought that was like a hook to a fish. You had pulled on the string, of course, and had instantly drowned in air. But you hadn’t taken one until now. Too nervous, perhaps. Hesitant.

In your other hand, opposite of the buzzing phone, you held three positive pregnancy tests in a shaking grip. Pink and white plastic mock you from the corner of your vision; two double lines.

John’s icon dims.

You press the green circle in your panic, mouth opening and closing yet no sounds escaping. Would you tell him now? Later? Was it right to tell him about this now—when he was halfway across the continent? Fear overtakes your heart for no apparent reason. You didn’t want him to act rashly, especially when John could act so stubborn when he wanted to.

He was always so concerned about you when he was away but you were concerned just the same. That man was the one who was getting shot at constantly, not you.

“Took you a while to answer. Trying to give me the slip, then, Sweetheart?” John’s gravelly voice helped slightly, making your heart still, even if for a short moment. You close your eyes and tilt your head down, lips quivering at the soft chuckle over the line.

God, you loved him so much.

Blue eyes furrowed in confusion at the silence on the line, the chilled Switzerland air sneaking inside John’s compression shirt as he stood on the hotel balcony. The sounds of gentle conversation twitch his ears from inside the room—the voices of the One-Four-One a dull mumble behind the half-closed sliding door. They had been playing cards before the Captain had easily slipped away to check up on you.

He tried to call as often as he could.

John’s hips shift, one arm crossed over his chest as the other presses the phone harder to his ear. Lips pull to a frown, beard bristles going with them, before the lines on the Brit’s forehead grow larger.

“...Love?” Naturally, a sliver of concern wedges itself into his ribs but it subsides when your calming voice spreads honey over the call. John’s shoulders fall back down.

You breathe deeply, hands dropping the tests onto the bathroom counter with a small clack of plastic.

“John,” forcing away the hitch to your words, you stare at yourself in the mirror, free hand sliding up to lightly rest over your collarbone as a soothing method. Your eyes are so filled with shock that it throws you off. “I…I wasn’t expecting a call so soon.”

“Hm, been up since 0500.” the man grunts, looking out over the city and seeing the rising sun before asking softly with a deep-set brow. There was something about your tone…lids narrow at nothing. “Did I wake you?”

“No, no,” You force a chuckle, having to take a deep breath before ripping your sights from your own reflection. The disgust was settling at you trying to avoid this. But if your own brain could barely process this right now, what gave you the right to tell John when he wasn’t here? “I’ve been up for a few hours.”

Licking your lips, you run a hand over your hair, glancing out of the ajar door into the master bedroom, pushing out bland answers for only the fact that you couldn’t think clearly right now.

Jesus, this was actually happening.

You study the thrown covers from your morning rush to the bathroom, seeing the pictures on the nightstand and feeling the delicate atmosphere that was sparking—electricity between atoms. A silent moment of realization that everything down to the bare bones of your relationship was about to change. Blinking back to the tests, you dwell in the strange fuzz that took residence in the back of your mind.

“What’s been going on?” Your voice isn’t right. Too tight. Too…nervous. Why were you nervous? “Everyone good?”

The Brit frowns stiffly, shifting his feet again and sending a look back into the hotel. Hunching forward, John’s large fingers fix the position of the phone as his voice lowers, ignoring your question entirely. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but there were pros and cons to his line of work.

Above all, he knew when something was up with you.

“Are you alright over there, Sweetheart?” Blue eyes rove the street below, “Feelin’ okay? You sound a bit stuffed up.”

Your heart lurches, quickly stuttering through an explanation of, “O-oh, I think I just came down with something.” The irony wasn’t lost on you. “A stomach bug,” you cringe, “I’m sorry, was it that obvious?”

The laugh that exits is less convincing than you thought it would be, but it does the trick. John sighs in relief, chuckling as he shakes his head.

“No need to apologize, Love…anything bad, then? I can bring some meds from Base when I’m back if you need me to.” He was still concerned for you, but knowing that you’d never lied or withheld the truth from him before there was really no reason to believe that anything else was going on. John trusted you to the end of the earth.

The Captain rubbed at the back of his neck, cracking his spine as he bent back. It was still early and waking up on a hotel bed without you beside him was torture. John longed for home. Longed for you.

Back at the house, your face scrunches together.

Bad? You wonder, saying absentmindedly that some medication would be lovely. Was this…bad?

John had always wanted to have a kid—or, at least, he’d told you as much when he was above you, filling you to the brim and then doing it again a second and third time. Thighs quivering and eyes fighting to stay open through layered bliss as sharp pants rung in your ears.

“Gonna get you pregnant…watch you swell up…c’mon sweet thing, you can handle another one, can’t you? Need to watch it take.”

…But was that a true feeling or just a kink? You blank and realize you’d never asked him. More than that, though, was this what you wanted?

“When do you think you’ll be home, John?” You speak softly, palm flattening over your stomach as you exit the bathroom and sit on the end of the bed, gut swirling but not in a nauseous sort of way. “I…I really miss you, y’know? It would all be better if you were home.”

The brunette blinks softly, lids peeling back in shock for a moment before a thin thread of guilt worms its way into him.

“Kate said two months, Love,” John speaks slowly, the grumble in his voice trying to convey his unease at your strange behavior, “You know that.”

He’d explained his job when you both had gotten serious, how he would be gone for long periods of time, and the somewhat uncomfortable situations you’d be put in because of it. You’d agreed and never brought it up when John would have to leave in the small hours of the morning and disappear for months on end. It shocked him, really, with how well you adjusted but that was just how you were. One of a kind.

There was no one else with whom John could see himself building a life—being buried beside in some nice meadow grave plot and turning to dust together. Growing a family with.

John cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly before pulling himself back to the present.

“It’s bothering you that much, eh?” His brows furrow, “Are you sure you’re alright? I can call hospital and—”

“No!” You slap a hand to your mouth, halting your outburst as blue eyes go somewhat wide, jaw slackening. Taking a breath over the shocked silence over the line, you dig your fingers into your cheek before letting your limb drop. “No, John…I-I’m sorry I just…”

Your voice quivers.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…

Eyes burning and nose twitching, you breathe heavily, mouth closing shut because you knew that if you say another word you’ll explode. You were shivering with cold sweat, scared and confused, and wanting John to hold you in his arms; whispering that it would all be okay into the shell of your ear.

You force through a sob, “I’m just really scared.”

John tenses, one hand going to grasp the balcony with white knuckles. His mind goes into overdrive. “Scared?” the Brit prods, muscles going stiff and mind running, “What in the hell is going on?”

Authority leaks into his tone, serious and deep. It made him nervous that he couldn’t see you right now—couldn’t stop the sounds coming from your mouth. Why were you crying? Has something horrible happened to you? Were you in trouble but were unable to tell him? John runs over your conversation again, every word and sound, as his heart races. He was wound up like a spring.

From behind him, the conversation in the hotel room halts.

You force your eyes closed, now up on your feet and pacing. Tears lightly patter to the floor.

“John, I can’t tell you over the phone,” you admit, shaking, “that wouldn’t be…wouldn’t be fair to you.” Swiping at your eyes, you spread the salty liquid away from your lashes, sniffling; praying that he would understand. “But I really need you home as soon as you’re able. I don’t want to break up what's going on over there, it’s just really important. I don’t think I can wait two months by myself. You know I would never ask this if I didn’t need to.”

John’s jaw clenches, legs unable to stay still as your anxiety leaks to him. He’s nodding before he realizes you can’t see him, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs.

“...I’ll see what I can do, then.” The brunette runs his hand over his beard pulling at the strands aggressively. What was so crucial that you can’t tell him over the phone? It was a secure line, John always made sure it was; yet, at the same time, that fact didn’t matter at all. If you needed him home so fervently—then he was coming home. That was that. “How long can you wait for me, Love?” He spares a glance inside. “There are a few loose ends that need to be taken care of here. Might complicate things.”

You blink around the bedroom, hand wrapped around your middle and trying to run soothing circles into your skin.

“I…I don’t…” John’s face softens, closing his eyes.

“Breathe, Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m comin’ home to you. We’ll get whatever this is sorted, yeah? I need you to be brave for me until then.”

Listening, you let the words calm you down, sniffling one last time like a kid who had fallen off the monkey bars before you let out a chuckle. John instantly follows his own advice when that sound wafts over the line. His shoulders fall back once more, silent sigh exiting.

“You said that exact same thing to me when I ended up burning that loaf of bread I was making—two years ago, was it? ‘Breathe, Sweetheart.’” Blue glimmers with love, cheeky tone growing.

“Hm, nearly set the kitchen on fire, didn’t you? So much smoke I swore someone had set off a charge in the oven.” John doesn’t push you to answer him, though he’s more questions than anything else at this point. You’d said you would tell him when he’s home and he believes you. “Please, Love, at least promise me you didn’t burn the bloody house down, yeah?”

A laugh strikes his chest, and he’s chuckling slowly in retaliation.

“I promise, John.”

“Good.” You’re smiling for the first in what seems like ages, tears drying as the flood down your chin stops. You lick away the water stuck in the corner of your mouth when John grunts lowly, “I’ll tell the boys and inform Laswell. But I can’t say it’ll be less than two weeks.”

Nodding to yourself, you say, quietly, “Okay.” Your eyes fall to the framed picture on the nightstand—the image of John and you smiling brightly on your third anniversary. You’d gone hiking, both sweaty and dirt marks on your cheeks, but happy…always happy. Your veins pump blood faster. “I love you, John.”

The final comment is tender; the words are more silk and soft furs than vibrating vocal cords.

He blinks away the blush that lights his pale cheeks. John huffs, an infectious smile flickering over his face as his chest wells with affection. Acting like a bird preening itself, he smirks and says, “Well, you’re lucky then…I love you too, Sweetheart.” An exhalation echoes over the call as his tone drops, “Keep safe for me, eh? I’ll call to update tomorrow.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

When the phone is set down on the bed, tossed down carefully, you try to think over this situation more rationally. You wouldn’t say you were against this—building a family with John. In fact, if not him, then you don’t believe it would be anyone else.

The Brit was the only man for you. You both knew the risks of having unprotected sex and in reality, you think neither one of you cared about the consequences.

Nodding to yourself, you wonder how to explain this to him when he comes home as you get to fixing the sheets, one hand always drifting back to your stomach with a growing appreciation.

—

John jogged to his car in the underground parking garage, unlocking it with his fob as his bags are slung over his shoulders. He wastes no time chucking his belongings into the back seat, swiftly sliding into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut as the engine starts. His dog tags bounce on his chest, but he’s half convinced they move from the rate that his heart is going alone.

All through traffic his fingers are tapping against the wheel, grunting stiffly at red lights and shifting his hips.

It had been three and a half weeks of fixing loose ends.

“Fuckin’ hell, c’mon,” John huffs, one elbow on the car frame as his hand flattens over his lower jaw. The light slowly snaps back to green after a long minute.

Pressing on the gas, the vehicle moves forward and continues until the familiar home comes into view on that quiet street nearly twenty minutes later.

John barely parks the car before he hops out, leaving his bags in the back, and rushes to the door. Taking the key from under the doormat, his mind is focused on only you. He had been unable to stop his worry about you and your unnamed fear, watching the phone with every free instance he could. It had only grown as the days got longer, and no matter how much you assured him that you would be okay until he got back, deep-seated apprehension grew. He didn’t like living under a shroud, especially when it came to your health.

The key in his hand was inserted with a firm wrist and twisted, shoving open the door with a heavy shoulder like there was a cloud over his head.

“Love?!” He calls, not bothering to shuck off his boots before looking around the visible living room and foyer. “Where are you?”

Long legs move swiftly as an utterance calls from the kitchen, barely taking the time to close the door behind him in his anxiety, “John?”

The Brit immediately backtracks, skidding to a stop and turning with blinking eyes. His ears twitch at the sounds of dishes being dropped back into water, as his heart steadily slows at the sound of your beautiful voice calling his name.

He rushes around the doorframe, feet stomping and hand catching the wall as you come into view, staring wide-eyed.

Your digits are around the fabric of a dish towel, fingers dripping as John finally presents himself to you. You hadn’t heard him until he had called out, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to hear the lock click.

But now it was like every worry you had was wiped clean at the sight of that gruff face; the hitch in his large chest. A smile slashes your lips after a moment of shocked silence.

“John!” You laugh, rushing forward, and the man lets his face soften—bringing you close to him as you draw near and trapping you in his arms.

His breath spread out over the top of your head in a great sigh, grumbled chuckles accented by the way John’s great hands wrap around your shoulders. Fingers press you into a solid chest, digging through hair to let your ear twitch at the sound of his heartbeat.

John doesn't speak until he has held you in his arms for at least three minutes, just pressing his face into your scalp and feeling your warmth against him. You don’t pull away either, breathing in his musk as it instinctually leads to your muscles loosening.

Minutes later, the Brit pulls back slowly, gripping you by the shoulders and looking down into your eyes. His gaze filters over yours, taking you in before his lips meet yours in a brief yet deep kiss. You melt into it, hands going to grip his cheeks and spread throughout his beard hair, soft strands leaving you shivering when John’s thumbs rub circles into your flesh.

He pulls back and you fight the tears in your eyes as he connects his forehead with yours. His optics shine with love, bleeding out like trapped stars; silver flecks of devotion and a blue the color of sea storms.

“What’s going on, Love?” John whispers, concern alight and raving as his grip goes to your waist, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m here. Tell me.”

You blink slowly, lips going thin with tight brows. Swallowing through a tight throat, you nod.

“Can you go sit in the living room, please?” Speaking carefully, you tilt your head and watch John get confused—his nose scrunching and moving his lips together. You run your thumbs over his cheeks and smile slightly, obviously nervous again. “Trust me.”

Though it wasn’t a question, John replies under his breath, “Always.”

But still, he holds you, studying your expression and the whites of your eyes with stiff lungs. You were making him fear that something horrible was coming—something he couldn’t control. His heart begins to hurt, but he backs away from you, brows tight as he exits the kitchen and disappears into the living room.

Taking down a swift breath when he’s out of sight, you fiddle with your fingers above your abdomen, looking down at your still-flat stomach. You knew it was stupid to worry, but how could you not? It wasn’t every day you just told your Lover you were pregnant with his child…

“John loves me,” you mutter to yourself, nodding and getting ready to go through with the plan you’d formed over the three weeks you’d been alone. “And he’ll love the both of us. I know he will.”

Hand flattening over your stomach, you open a drawer with the other, pulling out a small cardboard box no bigger than a book. Fingers shaking, you lick your lips and feel the slight pull of a nervous, yet giddy, smile. Turning, you exit the kitchen and see John sitting with his nose resting above the clench of his fists, foot tapping. His head immediately snaps over when you come into view, hands falling to hang off his legs as the couch under him dips from his weight.

You steel yourself and raise the box.

“Here.” Placing it on the coffee table, you sit across from John in an armchair.

He blinks slowly, eyes going small with curiosity. The man sends you glances through his lashes as he stares down at the object but he says nothing. Rubbing his beard with one hand, he reaches and grabs it carefully.

Testing the weight, John is genuinely confused, clenching his jaw and feeling the material in his palm.

“...What’s this, then?” He asks lowly, glancing at you with a raised brow and lines on his forehead.

You put your intertwined hands in your lap, prompting with a tilt of your shoulders.

“Open it.” Off put by your cryptic answers, John nods firmly, grasping the top of the box and pulling lightly, careful not to disturb the contents. It was strange to think, but he was honestly quite perturbed.

What exactly was inside this box, and why had he been called home for it? He loved being here, no doubt, but the circumstances….

Blue eyes glimmer. You didn’t look overly afraid as you shifted in your seat, just plain timid—like the inside object would change something fundamental about his and yours relationship.

John pops the top off and looks as you start talking before your throat threatens to shut you up. “I…I know it’s not a life-threatening thing to call you home for,” the man stills as if he was made of stone; a statue as non-breathing and pulse-less as anything, “But I didn’t want to tell you over the phone because that seemed so—!”

Your voice is drowned out as John’s shaking fingers delve into the box, ears ringing. His fingers flinch off of three positive pregnancy tests and the soft fabric of the plain army green baby onesie that surrounds them; skimming slowly.

“I found out the day you called and I said I had come down with something.” Your laugh is strained when it exits you, and you stare at the Brit hard, seeing his features utterly halt all expression. Thumbs digging into your skin, your tone drops, speaking slowly, “...John? A-are you okay? Say something to me, Love.”

It’s only in that long minute of nothingness that you really start to get an all-consuming tenseness to your bones like a rabbit.

Why isn’t he saying anything?

John clears his stiff throat, blinking rapidly as he brings out one of the tests, dropping the box lightly to the coffee table with a dull thump. The twin red lines are ingrained into the softness of his retinas as the sun would be if you were to stare directly at it.

Pregnant.

His heart swells to an almost painful degree, blue eyes moving to look at you across the table and then dipping to your stomach. The Brit stands up slowly.

Your lungs are tight, lids moving quickly with wetness growing in your tear ducts.

“Please, John, what are you thinking—?” Large hands capture your arms, bringing you up as lips meet yours in a passionate and heart-stopping kiss.

John’s limbs wrap around your hips, bringing you up into the air as gently as a bird, face parting from yours with a series of loud and genuine laughs. You snap your arms around his neck, shocked but not at all complaining as he holds you up with ease, twirling you around in a firm but ever-gentle hold.

“You’re pregnant?” His whispers meet you, airy and deep with awe. It was like he was in his teens again, running around Herefordshire with his mates—his eyes shone with happiness; pure unabashed love. “Oh, truly, Sweetheart?”

Tears dribble down your cheeks at the sight of him glowing, beard peeled back in a large smile with wet eyes. Hiccuped giggles leave your lips as you nuzzle your face into his neck, the sight of him like this overwhelming. All stress leaves you in a millisecond when your feet hit the ground again.

“Yes, John,” you sob, overjoyed, pulling back so you both can stare into each other's teary eyes as the Brits’ fingers go to shakily wipe the waterworks from your under eyes. His orbs flicker quickly, looking you over in an entirely different light. “You’re going to be a father.”

He fights through a scratchy voice, “Me?” The tone is amused, but he can’t articulate how exalted he feels to hear that. A father…him? It was more than he could have ever asked for, and, even better—John whispers out, “You’re going to be a mum.”

You kiss him, multiple quick pecks that he returns through shared joyous chuckles.

“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” the confession meets the air as one of John’s hands travels to cup your flat abdomen, fingers flinching over the fabric of your shirt to sneak under. You laugh and shiver at his calluses, as his blue eyes are so soft they could be compared to butter. “And I couldn’t wait two months.”

“Christ, Love,” John lays a kiss on your forehead, needing to be as close to you as possible. You can feel his heart through his chest, and you know yours isn’t any better. This was far more than you could have hoped for. He mutters against your skin, “I’m so glad you didn’t. This is bloody amazing news—I want to be here for all of it.”

Sea storms lock onto your face with a grunt, “You’re so lovely. Perfect, yeah?”

His warm hand still rests under your shirt, and you doubt it’s going to leave anytime soon.

You feel your cheeks heat and you smile bashfully, heart about to explode.

“You are.” John reiterates. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Sweetheart. I’m so happy.”

The air is ripe with tenderness, a soft state of being that just keeps getting better. John had silent tears dripping down his face, blinking to clear them and not letting you leave his hold for a second.

“Oh, John,” you whisper, digging your fingers into the back of his shirt, looking up. “Me too, Love.”

While the glee is nearly physical enough to grab, there is a moment of hesitancy in the Brit. He was gone more times than not for work; put into situations that could leave him going through bodily harm. You didn’t deserve that stress—didn’t deserve to sit at home with a swelling stomach just watching the door and wondering if you’d have to become a single mother. You had a child in your womb. His child. Both of yours’ child.

A family that you both had made.

John swallows and says to you seriously, without an ounce of hesitation in his blood, “I’m telling Laswell to pull me out,” you blink up and listen, letting him continue as his press on your flesh gets even more prominent, nodding to you, “I’m not missing this—not putting you through that worry. Two years, then I’ll head back in. We have enough saved, I give you my word you’ll want for nothing.”

Blue eyes flicker down, and a small mumble so tiny it nearly disappears hits your ears. You almost start sobbing again. “This is more important. You both are more important.”

There were few moments in your life that you think you’ll remember when you are old, weathered and wrinkled, but this you tell yourself is one that you will carry to your grave. John and yours’ grave.

What remains behind, you ask? Simple.

White bones entangled with an eternity of deathless worship, and the generations that will come to lay flowers on the headstone.

TAGS:

@blueoorchid, @jxvipike, @revrse, @shuttlelauncher81, @bruhhvv, @kittiowolf210, @aerangi, @spikespiegell, @ghost-with-a-teacup, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @uberraschungg, @neelehksttr, @shoe1412,@jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pukbadger, @omeganixtra, @nanialis, @gills-lounge, @voidinfernal, @sukunas-left-nut-sack, @untoldshortsofthefandoms, @batmanunicorns523, @icepancakes, @copiasratscheese, @besas-stuff, @marytvirgin, @misfne, @halfmoth-halfman, @lothiriel9, @anna-banana27, @jade-jax, @cl0wncxre, @emerald-valkyrie, @michirulol, @330bpm-whiplash, @lora21, @bespectacledhuman, @wolfyland07, @dilfsaremyfavourite, @astronaunt2009, @shmaptin, @levietc, @kk19pls, @semieitabby, @thriving-n-jiving, @cringe-kats, @n1choles, @gaychaosgremlin, @johnpricesprincess, @haleypearce,

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jenosbigtoe · 7 months

Note

NEED NEED NEED another one shot with jeno and dumb sluts 🥹🥹

mdni. nsfw 18+ (read part 1)

pairing: lee jeno x reader x na jaemin

warnings: everyone here is still a freak, recording of sexual activities, so much sex, nomin are kinda sleazy and reader is kinda slutty so match made in heaven

jeno has your contact name saved as “slut❤️” and jaemin has it under “SLUT🙇‍♂️”, without even knowing what the other already put. when they saw what the other had your contact saved as, they gave each other a high five.

jeno and jaemin are so competitive and possessive over you. jeno is the only one allowed to call you his baby, and if jaemin calls you baby it turns into (another) big argument. and jaemin is the only one allowed to call you princess, or else it will, again, lead to another argument. however, they have an unspoken agreement to both call you babygirl because you’re their babygirl duh.

they make it competition to see who can make plans with you first before the other one can.

jeno: baby come over tonight.

you: sry jen

you: jaem invited me over first

jeno was punching the air after that.

or jaemin would snap you a pic of his veiny hands grabbing his very obviously hard dick through his sweatpants with the captioned “thinking about you princess. come over”

you snapped back a picture of a fake pout saying “i’m at jen’s rn”. jaemin could see a shirtless jeno hugging your back behind you in that pic, causing him to see red.

they try to one up each other on absolutely everything. asking you questions like “okay who do you see more though?” and “who gives the best head?” and “whose dick game is stronger?” you never give them an answer, obviously, because you think it’s fun when they try to go even harder than the other to beat each other in this made up competition.

whenever you hook up with either of them, they will snap pics and take videos to gloat to the other. like jaemin will send jeno a pic of your naked bodies tangled up together after a good fucking captioned “😁” or jeno will send jaemin an uncaptioned video of you deepthroating his cock.

when jeno and jaemin hang out one on one, their new favorite thing to do together (besides you duh) is compare the suggestive snaps you send them or the sex tapes you made with each of them.

“jaemin, look at this lingeries pic i got last night ooh aren’t you so jealous?”

“jeno, hate to break it to you dude but she literally sent you that pic right before i ripped that off her and fucked her stupid.”

then he’d show jeno the video he got of you letting him tittyfuck, his cock rubbing so deliciously between your plump tits as you licked and sucked on the tip.

“fuck you jaem, lemme show you the time she let me take her ass then.”

all this competitiveness works out in your favor of course. you know about everything they do, from sending pics and videos of your hookups to comparing them when they’re with each other. all you have to do is tell jeno “ugh jaemin had me in this position last night and i have never felt so good” before jeno will seriously have you twisted like a pretzel and fucked dumb with his cock until you’re a sobbing mindless mess. or you’ll tell jaemin “jeno hit so deep in me earlier i could feel him in my lungs” before jaemin will take you on the wall, the mattress, the counter, the washing machine, the bathtub, and MORE balls deep and slapping your clit every time.

to switch it up every so often, you’d invite both of them at the same time over to your place, conveniently neglecting to tell them that the other would also be coming over.

you’d be lying on your back, legs up in the air, as jaemin ate and fingered your drooling little cunt when jeno would walk in, tutting and snarling at the sight.

“well, looks like this greedy little slut did it again. invited us both over because she can’t go a day without getting stuffed by two cocks.” jeno rips his clothes off and crawls onto the bed, grabbing your face into his strong grip and pressing a crushing kiss on your lips.

jaemin wouldn’t even look up from eating your pussy like a starved man, he’d smirk into your cunt and continue licking and sucking on it.

they’d do a rock paper scissors to see who gets to fuck your pussy first (jaemin won this time).

“what a fucking slut, jeno,” jaemin would pant, rutting his hips fast and deep into yours as he took you on all fours.

you were too busy licking and sucking on jeno’s cock in the front. “yeah, our slut. only we get to see her like this. isn’t that right huh babygirl?” jeno stroked your cheek affectionately.

you loved being a slut for jeno and jaemin.

#nct dream smut #nct smut #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct dream #jeno smut #jeno #jeno x reader #lee jeno #na jaemin x reader #lee jeno x reader #na jaemin #jaemin x reader #jaemin smut #jaemin

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sophiethewitch1 · 2 months

Text

What We Want - Chpt. 6 - Round Two. Fight!

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

Damn. Your indulgent TV stalking of the Wayne’s really doesn’t hit the same once you technically knew them. And you were hiding inside one of their bedrooms, inside one of their clothes, using their TV subscription. It just didn’t feel right. Morally, of course, but that wasn’t what you were talking about. No, you were just pissy your favourite pastime was basically ruined. You shovel another spoonful of cookie dough ice cream into your mouth, glaring through tired eyes at the screen.

There’s an up-close shot of Dick Grayson’s abs. The presenter ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ over his physical form, and you have to agree. You wish you had abs like that. Unfortunately, you did respond to most unwanted experiences with stress eating. As always with these celebrity figures, you can’t really tell if you want to be Dick or be with Dick. Your butt is nowhere near the level his is at.

While you hadn’t really set out today looking for shirtless pictures of the Waynes, it wasn’t like you were going to say no to them. So, when the gossip channel had switched from the reactions of the Waynes to last night’s fiasco to… this… you’d just kept watching.

You wonder if you should stop doing this. It’s definitely kind of creepy, and now you’d technically once been his… step-sister. What a mind fuck. You’ve been crushing on these dudes for a while, and now they were your ex-step siblings. This was like the start of a bad porno, but you knew you were not that lucky. And it wasn’t like you were going to start thinking of him as a brother any time soon. You hadn’t even met the guy. No, he was still firmly in the ‘celebrity crush’ section of your mind. Pretty and untouchable. The way things are supposed to be.

Which was also bad because you would probably have to meet and interact with him at some point. Probably in the near future. God knows you’d absolutely humiliated yourself in front of the fucking Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne,. Twice, in fact. You didn’t even want to think about the display you’d shown for Bruce Wayne or Damian Wayne.

You didn’t really know what to do with your slightly obsessive crushes. And you could see it definitely being a problem in the near future.

…You decide that what you do in your private time is absolutely nobody but your business, and keep watching. It’s a mix of bitter spite and genuine mental breakdown levels of desperation that leads you to that decision. You feel like you’re a child with their toy being taken away, and it’s making you mad. And sad too. Even if you shouldn’t do this anymore, you still want to keep the habit. You’d mentioned before your creature comforts were one of the few things that kept you going. And while you were mostly very good at not being the jealous, heinous creature you really are, you knew you wouldn’t be giving this up.

They’d have to tear your gossip channels from your cold dead palms. You weren’t giving them up, not without a fight at least. Unfortunately for you, the universe seemed determined to wrestle away literally everything you loved.

Guilt’s for tomorrow. Today is for ice cream and purposefully ignoring everything. Speaking of which, you can not remember the last time you had a good Ben & Jerry’s. They were so expensive these days, as all groceries were. You simply couldn’t afford it. The Waynes, of course, had multiple tubs in multiple different options. Alfred had seemed delighted that you’d taken the ice cream, for which reasons you could not perceive.

Oh, yeah! His name was Alfred. Very butler-y. You’d remember it this time, he was a very nice man. And he called you ‘young miss’ which earned him points. He also didn’t seem to hate you on sight or treat you like a two-headed freak, like some of the other people in this household. Not naming names. Yeah, fuck that noise, Damian Wayne obviously has issues and it’s much less attractive in real life.

The woman drones on, and your eyes flick to your phone. Yup, she’s still yapping. It’s not like you don’t appreciate Dick’s abs or anything, it’s just that you think she might’ve been talking about this one specific photo for over half an hour now. Lady should get a hobby. Wait, wait, this is her job. Maybe you should start a podcast where you rant about the Wayne’s exercise regimes. It seems to be quite a lucrative field.

You shriek when the door slams open, nearly tumbling backwards off the bed. Hands manage to grip the bedcovers before you tip over, not making a complete fool of yourself. As it goes, you lose your spoon to the carpet. Bits of cookie dough spread over the floor in a divine sacrifice. And you lose your sanity to the man standing in the doorway. To be fair, he looks just as confused as you feel.

You blink at the physically perfect form of Dick Grayson and then turn your head to the TV to look at the other physically perfect form of Dick Grayson.

…You really wish you had a good explanation for this.

He mutters out your name, lips parted. Dick Grayson seems absolutely shocked to find you here. His eyes flick around the room and eventually land on the TV. Said baby blues widen to the size of saucers when the reporter makes a really, really unnecessary comment.

“And in news that broke the hearts of both ladies and gentlemen everywhere in Bludhaven, Dick Grayson has announced he will be returning to Gotham to assist his family in this difficult time. My cousin in the Blud is probably crying right now. There’s no ass out there quite like his, and there’s no replacement for Bludhaven’s favourite young rich bachelor,” she winks at the camera, and then the shot of his toned stomach phases forward to take up the entire screen.

Well, there’s a lot to say about that. First of all, fuck. Second of all, shit. Third of all, she really couldn’t have said that part about Dick coming back to Gotham sooner? Perchance, before you’d found yourself in this situation?

You said you weren’t that lucky, you meant it.

“But still, ain’t that lucky for us Gothamites? I myself have spent a lot of time on Dick’s Tiktok and Instagram, and his acrobatic videos have been used in a lot of my personal-”

You snatch the remote from the sheets and pause it right there. The silence is tense. You wait for him to say something, but he just stares at you. Completely stunned, mouth-catching flies. You want to pull the covers up and hide under them, but you don’t think that’d make him leave.

“I couldn’t find my room,” you finally manage to say. It’s the worst excuse you’ve ever heard, sounds like a complete lie. And yet, unfortunately, it is the truth.

Dick’s eyes drift to the TV, which you still haven’t unpaused. You can’t tell if it would be worth it, just to get rid of his golden brown abs staring at you judgementally, even if you’d have to deal with the extra embarrassment of the dialogue over them. Maybe if you muted the TV? It wouldn’t make up for the insult of his paparazzi photos on a widescreen.

It takes you even longer to come up with an excuse for… that.

“I was checking the news about last night,” you continue, the panic in you rising like a tea kettle left on the stove for too long. You might start shrieking like one too.

You don’t think he believes you. He looks down at the Beatles shirt you’re wearing. You know what he’s going to say before he does, but you still dread it.

“You’re wearing my clothes,” he mutters, his voice awed.

You want to say, ‘Nooo! No, no, no! Don’t do this to me, damn it! Not anymore! No more, please! It’s enough, enough suffering! This is genuinely ridiculous, damn you!’ but instead you reply with a shaky, “…Didn’t have any of mine.”

Also, you’ve been huffing Eau de Dick Grayson? That’s definitely in character for you. You want to beat your own head in with a stick.

“And I couldn’t find my room, and uh, thought this one wasn’t being used,” you continue, daring a glance back at him. He still looks completely stumped.

“It wasn’t,” he answers, but it sounds like he’s a thousand miles away.

You know, Dick Grayson was supposed to be a lot more charming than this. You’re almost proud you managed to stun the man into near speechlessness. Almost, almost. Almost not going to kill yourself once he leaves.

If he leaves. He doesn’t look like he’s getting up. You eye the gap between you and the door. Your animal brain is telling you to just run for it. But Dick has Olympic level athletics, and you don’t doubt he could catch you if you ran. Would he try though? That’s the deciding factor here.

He doesn’t seem like he’s actually going to fucking do anything though. He just keeps staring, like if he looks for long enough, it’ll all start to make sense. Which, you wish.

“Do you know where my room is? I couldn’t… remember…”

He nods, instead staring at his own abs on the TV.

“Can you take me to my room?”

He nods again. Still doesn’t look back at you.

“…Mr. Grayson?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. ‘You’ wouldn’t have used his last name, even though you might’ve. ‘You’ had been a casual person, as far as you could tell. That was the kindest way you could say it, at least.

His head snaps to you. He somehow looks more confused. You wonder if you should pinch him or something, god knows you’ve done your fair share of pinching yourself recently.

“Yes, right, sorry. Let’s… go,” he gives you a cheery smile, shaking his head, but it seems quite strained. You’re probably matching. This is the most humiliating moment of your life, and of course, it’s with the most beautiful man on earth right beside you.

A break. You want a break.

The two of you quietly shuffle out of the room, and when he guides you forward, you follow him obediently. Your head naturally bows, shame making it hard to look at him. You stare at the wooden floors as you walk. Watching it shine in the morning light that filters through the windows.

Eventually, he comes to a stop in front of a door that has obviously been avoided. Though it’s as clean as every other inch of this house, there are no marks in the rug from the door opening and closing. And even then, it seems… well, it sounds silly, but the door seems sad to you. Too many things seem sad to you these days.

Your thoughts must show on your face because Dick clears his throat and gives you a worried look. Is it rude to say you’re sick of those sorts of looks? That they just make you feel sick and burdened these days? It’s not like you could bring your family back from the dead, or convince your cheating boyfriend to not be a piece of shit. It was out of your hands.

“…Are you alright?” he asks you, blue eyes sincere. You tilt your head to the side.

“No?” you say, but it sounds more like a question. No, you are not alright. Yes, you will be okay. It’s the only option. It’s one of your rules. You have to be okay. You just have to.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You almost laugh.

“No,” this time your voice is firm, confident. Dick seems like he’s going to push it, but something in your eyes makes him stop. You give him a forced smile and say goodbye, closing the door gently in his face. Once you do, you crouch down and once again, press your face to your knees. Then you press your hands to your mouth and let out a scream that had been bubbling up for a while. After that, you feel you can live with the humiliation that is your existence without jumping out the three-story-height window.

You stand up, turning to the room. The first thing you notice about it is that there’s dust in here. Same as Dick’s old room. Now that you think about it, Alfred doesn’t seem the type who’d randomly leave certain rooms uncleaned, so it must be something he does out of respect for the tenants of Wayne Manor. Or maybe the old you requested it? God knows.

Sitting down on the old bed, your eyes rove around the room. It’s well decorated, as the rest of the manor is, but you can’t see anything that would make it your room. There’s none of the novels you’d collected from the used books store, no dorky little items you impulse bought, no pictures of your family. The apartment hadn’t had those either.

‘You’- she- seemed like a ghost to you. While you’d often felt like you’d barely been alive, simply going through the motions, this girl seemed like she hadn’t even been conscious half the time she was doing it. It made your stomach swim, your face pulls taught.

While you’d had few things holding you afloat, it’d been enough to keep you alive. Molly, your co-workers, the need to work so as to not starve to death. She hadn’t had anything like that. No liferaft. You’d been sputtering and gasping your way through life, and she’d been drowning. Maybe already dead, at the bottom of the sea, hair tangling with the seaweed.

This room feels like a coffin, and this manor like a cemetery. It makes you physically sick.

Showing off your fickle-mindedness, you realise that despite this being the Wayne manor filled with all your idols, you actually don’t want to fucking be here. You need space to clear your head, and the creaking floorboards that echo down the creepy hallways just don’t offer that. The atmosphere at your too-modern, too-minimalist apartment is leagues better than the atmosphere at this gorgeous old house which you’d usually love spending hours getting lost in.

Usually. Unfortunately, this place was more suffocating than the workplace when you knew you were about to get fired again. And you weren’t getting paid to stay here, so why the fuck would you?

Once you realise you’ve decided to run, you’re quick to pack up your shit. There’s not much in the room you need. A pair of sneakers, because you would rather die than put those heels on again. And you’ll grab some shirts because they’re comfy and remind you of home. Hopefully, it’ll make everything… grate… a little less. All of this is thrown in an old ratty backpack, which is then tossed over your shoulder. Shoes slipped on, and tapped against the floor so they’re on comfortably. And then you’re ready. Ready as you’ll ever be. With one hand on your phone, you take a peek outside the door. Coast is clear.

You press call for ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’. Jeanine picks up on the third ring.

“Hello, Jeanine Ryans here,” she says, her voice all business.

“Jeanine, I need an evac, stat,” you whisper to her, creeping down the hallway of the manor. The floor is unbelievably creeky, so it’s pretty fucking difficult to be stealthy about it.

“…What?”

“Get me out of this fucking manor, please,” you beg, now going down the stairs. Almost out, almost out.

“Right, on it. I’ll have a car outside in ten minutes if that’s alright?” Jeanine replies, immediately on the case. It almost makes you cry. You know she’s being paid for this, and very desperate for the job for some reason, but it’s still a hail mary that you are so grateful for.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” you say, turning a corner and-

Oh, fuck. Damian Wayne glares down at you, green eyes cataloguing every single guilty piece of you in existence. He sees your hand tighten around your backpack, hears Jeanine telling you not to worry through your phone, and probably notices the way your eyes desperately flicker behind him to the door. To your goal, to the exit to this labyrinth.

You can practically hear the wind blowing, see the tumbleweed drift by.

And then, he moves past you, twisting his body so no part of it touches you. There’s a moment where your brain freezes, something spicy smelling (cinnamon, maybe?) flowing past you, and by the time you turn around, he’s gone. Your deer-in-headlights tensed-shoulders look falls, leaving you confused in the foyer. He didn’t even say a word to you. You felt like you just got passed over by a boss from a Dark Souls game.

…Well, you’ll take the wins where you can find them! Quickly, you hurry out the front door, skittering down the steps like some sort of rat. It’s a long walk to the gates, and you don’t really know how to open them to let the car in, so you decide to take your time and enjoy the walk. The early morning dew apon the clean-cut blades of grass glint and sparkle, the gravel on the road crunches under your technically-not-stolen sneakers, and even if it’s a miserable life, it’s a pretty day. From the hill the manor lives upon, you can see Gotham’s tall skyline, cloaked in its characteristic fog.

Eventually, you find yourself in front of the gate, where you can see Jeanine waiting with a black car on the otherside. There’s a big green button next to the side gate, which you press, and it clicks open. There’s a moment where your neck tingles, and you glance up at the camera pointed down at you. The red flickering light beside it holds your attention. You can see your bedraggled reflection in its lense.

Shaking your head, you move on, greeting Jeanine. She gives you a quick bow of the head and opens the door for you. You hike the bag over your shoulder, give the Wayne manor one final, lingering look and then you step into the car. Jeanine starts speaking to you about some future appointments you have, and you’re too tired to understand a word of what she says. She realises you’re not processing anything she says, and hands you a pair of headphones with a wire adapter.

You could kiss her right then and there. You don’t because that’d be weird, but you definitely think about it. Headphones on, you watch the rolling hills and luxurious manors turn into highways and honking traffic, to finally the upside part of town which was now apparently where you lived.

Eventually you find yourself being delivered in front of your swanky new apartment. With a passing goodbye, Jeanine tells you that she’ll be busy for the rest fo the day so if you need anything to call the number on the card she hands you. You tuck it in your pocket, certain you’ll lose it like every other business card you’ve ever been handed.

The elevator ride up to your room is contemplative. The music is boring, your reflection is bedraggled and tired, and the gentle feeling of gravity under your feet tugs at you. You rock slightly when you finally reach your floor. The doors open, but you don’t make any move to leave. They shut again, and you’re left staring daggers at your mirrored self.

You’d woken up, still here. It wasn’t a dream. It was reality. And more than that, it seemed more and more like you’d be staying in this reality. You didn’t think you could go home. Sure you were rich but… but your home. Your few things you’d managed to save. Your meagre group of friends and your hard-sought job. It made you nauseous. Where had you lost it all? Why were you here now? Why did you keep having to lose everything?

You manage to snap yourself out of it before someone else calls the elevator. Striding out of the space, you look to the right where you remember your apartment coming from. It’s not hard to find the unit, as there are only three on the entire floor. Rich people.

The door closes with a satisfying thud behind you, and you nearly melt with exhaustion.

This apartment is the ninth circle of hell for you. Scrambling around on your knees, you’re desperate to find the damn phone that won’t stop ringing. You can’t understand where the sound is coming from.

Under your bed? You shine your other’s phone’s light under it. Nope. Behind the dresser? Nada. You search inside the drawers and then peek inside the fancy lamp. Absolutely nothing. You’re ready to tear your hair out when you spot something… odd.

There’s… You think there’s something stuck in your floorboards. You dig at the space with your fingernails and the piece of wood pops open. Inside is… a cardboard box. An awfully familiar cardboard box, actually. The sight of your Mum’s old keepsake box makes you cry out with joy, lifting it from its little enclave. You’d lost a lot in the past few days but at least the old you knew how to keep your family’s stuff safe.

This apartment looks brand new. And apparently the past you dug into it to hide her stuff. You can’t really judge, you have a hidey-hole back at your apartment. It was a brick that had already been loose in the wall, so it didn’t feel quite as criminal as this.

The ringing is coming from inside the box. When you pull the lid up, you find a keepsake box a little different from yours. While yours only ever had your family’s old passports and photo albums, this one had a sleek phone sitting on top of all the mementos. It’s an exact copy of the phone on your bed- or well, it would be, if you hadn’t dropped it.

Two phones? This bitch was greedy. And so are you, eagerly sweeping the expensive item into your gremlin hands. Your thieving high is instantly quashed when you see who’s calling.

Of all fucking… George.

You roll your eyes before hanging up, tossing the phone to the side as you start rifling through the old keepsake box. You flip through family photo albums and lovingly cradle old stuffies. The phone buzzes. You ignore it. You find one of your mother’s old necklaces, and because you’re desperate for anything that can ground you, slip it over your head. The cool heart locket rests just under your collarbone, and you clutch it with one hand as you keep exploring. The phone keeps buzzing. It’s only almost half an hour later when you realise something about this is strange.

Why is George… not blocked? You glance down at the vibrating object like it’s radioactive, a despairing frown pulling at your face. Cautiously, you pick it up, making sure not to open the notifications lest it tell George you read any of his messages.

He’s… apologising for not being there for your birthday. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. And it’s not even a proper apology, it’s one of those ‘I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings’ bullcrap. He keeps spamming you, and eventually, you realise that he’s not going to just stop.

You decide to nip this in the bud quickly because even remembering his cheating face makes you feel like throwing up.

‘You’: Why are you contacting me?

‘George <3’: Seriously? Look, I’m sorry I wasn’t there yesterday. I was busy, you know that.

Stupidly, you reply:

‘You’: ‘No, seriously, why are you contacting me? I’m done with you.’

You wonder how you ever loved this jackass. Even if he was obviously more of a jackass here, than where you’d come from. He was just better at pretending there. You keep scrolling, ignoring the new texts that pop up. Your stomach sours at the number of texts he himself had ignored, of the amount of ‘sorry baby, can’t come tonight’, the begging, the pleading.

No, he wasn’t worse at pretending. He just didn’t care.

You wonder if this could have been you, further along down the line. Abuse happens slowly, right? Like a frog in a pot. You’d have forgiven and forgotten, written away his worse behaviours till you couldn’t anymore. Till you couldn’t leave, till you were trapped.

You think George Lancaster would’ve tried to. He would’ve isolated you from everyone you had left if he hadn’t screwed up and got caught.

You realise now there were a lot of red flags in your relationship with George. Molly always hated him and he hated her. He’d constantly complain about how much time you spent with her, spamming you with texts when you went out.

You were only… only two days since you’d actually broken up with him. Which was sort of crazy to think about. You feel like you’ve lived eons since then. Like that one traumatic incident aged you thirty years. Anyway, you still hadn’t processed the whole George thing. You’d been sort of busy fighting for your life.

‘George’: I’m here, can you at least open the door so we can talk face to face?

Freeze. A knock sounds, and your head snaps up to the front door. You don’t move. You just wish it away. The knocking only gets louder and louder.

You feel like a dumb girl in a horror movie as you walk towards the door, unlocking it and creaking the knob open. George Lancaster stands on the other side, and before you can slam it in his face, he grabs you by the arm and yanks you out of the door. And then he’s pulling you to the elevator, even as you try and get your bearings, get yourself away from him.

“You can’t just ignore me like this,” George says, pissed off to high hell, “We’re going to miss the reservation I booked specifically for you. I told you it was happening today and-”

There’s white noise between your ears, you can’t hear what he’s saying. Told you? It wasn’t in any of the texts. He’s still talking even as the elevator dings, even as he shoves you in a white sports car that’s half parked on the curb. Even as he drives his way through Gotham’s streets, he won’t fucking shut up.

Why are you letting this happen to you? Why aren't you fighting back, wrenching yourself from his grasp? He takes you into a restaurant, one so upscale that normally you wouldn’t be able to get in for months, and your head snaps from staring socialites to watching politicians to gawking celebrities. You have the eyes of the world on you right now, and they’re all watching George yell at you.

And you can’t find your voice.

It's like a scab you can't stop picking at. Like you think this is what you deserve or something. And it's not. You know it's not. And yet you follow obediently, chastised and embarrassed, as he pulls you through the restaurant. When he picks a table in the centre of the room, you don’t protest. When he chooses your meal for you, even though it’s not to your taste, you don’t protest.

Looking at George, scrolling lazily on his phone, your hands clench against the table. They’re sweating, shaking, nails digging into your palms.

You… you didn’t have to break up with him again, did you? You realised it earlier, but you didn’t- it didn’t really sink in. Your first breakup with George Lancaster was a miserable traumatic experience, and it had been in the solitary streets of Gotham’s Narrows. This one, this one would be seen by literally everyone.

Nauseous. You feel so damn nauseous, your mouth dry as you swallow down bile. This was ridiculous. You couldn’t stand seeing his face. Was he texting her right now? God, did she even know? You’d just stormed out that night, running from what you’d seen.

George had chased after you. Had he left her there? Your stomach churned at the idea. You had to hate her on principle but, well, you also had to sympathise with her. Contradictions, that was the average you. You didn’t want to help this random girl. Didn’t want to have to ever think of her again.

…Staring at George, a definitively awful person, you can’t do it. Can’t just leave her to it.

“I’m breaking up with you,” you say.

“What?” George replies, not even looking up from his phone.

“I’m breaking up with you!” you shout. It’s not even intentional, just a result of being pushed too far, of breaking too easily.

The restaurant goes quiet. Guess you’re up for another scandal then. Whatever, it wasn’t like you would’ve lasted much longer anyway. This was all too complicated for your recently traumatised mind to handle. And it was just too damn stupid to bother with anyway. All of this was fucking stupid.

You included.

Just pull the bandaid off, right? You could already see how this version of you had so many scandals to her name. You probably should start giving a shit. Or at least trying to. You don’t think you want to, though.

George puts his phone down face down on the tablecloth, giving you a calm look. That slightly pitying stare activates something in your brain you didn’t really know was there. It’s a type of rage you haven’t known since you were a kindergartner and one of the other girls said you couldn’t play princesses. Since your first service job where your manager felt you up. Just pure, petty, anger. The type of anger ready to burn the world down as long as it burns whoever pissed you off as well. He opens his mouth, probably to say something condescending, and your hand whips out and snatches his phone.

“Hey!” George says instead, his eyes widening.

You turn the phone back on. Hm, passcode. You flip it around and use facial recognition to open it. Despite the fact that George wears the most comically shocked expression, with saucer-wide eyes and a mouth open to catch flies, it unlocks. Nice.

“Hey! What are you doing?” George demands, reaching over the table for his phone.

You twist away from his reach. Password. You flip the phone, and despite George’s comically shocked expression, it still unlocks. He shouts again when it does, probably realising that you might be taking this seriously. That he might actually be in trouble. That his sugar mummy might not take too kindly to the numerous texts to other women on his phone.

…You really can’t believe you’re a sugar mummy. And for George of all people. What a horrendous waste of money, it’s fucking tragic.

He’s got the texts with someone known as ‘Pizza Hut’ pulled up, with some very flirtatious messages. You scroll up furiously, ducking under George as he gets up from the table and tries to get the phone. Still, backing up, the sight of a very poorly shot dick pic of George’s has you grimacing. Your focus on the picture, trying to decide whether his penis looked so unappealing before you’d learnt of his betrayal, has you distracted when one of the servers come around.

And, well, shirt, meet soup. Very, very hot soup. Everyone? Meet a screeching, klutzy moron.

George takes the chance to advance on you, snatching his phone from you. He doesn’t even seem to care you’re currently getting third-degree burns. The sting scorches through the thin fabric of your dress shirt, burning your skin. George grabs you again, his grip harsh enough this time you know it will bruise, and you can’t really say why you do what you do at that moment.

Your aunt used to have a chihuahua. It was an ugly, grumpy thing. She’d rescued it late into its life, and it had been treated poorly beforehand. It didn’t like to be touched at all and used to run from anyone who tried. And if you tried to touch it? Cornered it?

Well, of course, it started biting.

George’s howl is the most satisfying thing you’ve ever heard. His squeal of “bitch!” might be even more so. He slaps you away from him, and the sound echoes in the restaurant. Your face stings. When you land ass first in the puddle of still-too-hot soup, you wonder if you might try and bite him again. You don’t think you even broke the skin, considering you can’t taste blood. The other patrons stare on in genuine horror, like they’ve never seen a messy breakup before. One woman raises a hand to her mouth, and gasps-

You find yourself staring up at a furious George, one with a menace in his eyes you’ve never seen before. You wonder, idly, if he’s ever hit you before. Well, not you, but ‘you’. You realise now that he has the capacity for it, that he probably always did.

“What the fuck!?” he hisses, angry eyes darting from side to side, “Biting me?! In fucking public?! Have you lost it, you crazy bitch?! And you got my phone fucking soaked in soup!”

“Did you buy it?” you ask, wiping your mouth with your sleeve to get George’s dirty taste out of your mouth.

He blinks, confused, thrown off by your question, “Huh?”

“Did you buy that phone?” you repeat, your staring starting to turn into a furious glare.

You don’t think he did. Your George had never been able to afford those sorts of things, he’d been as broke as you were. Of course, you’d seen him lust over those items, but you’d always managed to convince him not to go into debt over silly things like sports cars and fancy phones. And even then, you’d been the one to buy him a PS5.

He looks down at the phone and back at you, and you can see his jaw tick.

“I bought it. That’s mine.”

“It was a gift. You’re going to be such a bitter bitch to take back everything you gave me? Gonna leave me out on the fucking street?” he says, spittle flying with angry words.

This was escalating fast. Maybe before you’d have been cowed by his words, but you were genuinely off your rocker by now and were very much willing to tango with this bastard. Like yes, he did terrify you, but so did everything else. You could handle this much at least. You weren’t ready to back down.

“And if I did? What then George? What could you even fucking do?” you throw back, voice rising to match his.

“It’s not your money either, it’s theirs, you little leech!” says the pot.

“Does it matter?” replies the kettle.

Pushing to your feet, you find George without another answer. He stands between you and the exit. With the plain murderous rage on his face, you think he’ll try to grab you again if you run past. He wouldn’t bite you back, but he might slap you or something. So instead, like any good coward does, you run straight to the girl’s bathroom. It hasn’t failed you yet, and you doubt it will today.

You shove into the bathroom, past a woman doing her makeup. Her head bobs up and down as she takes in your seemingly infamous face, and your stained shirt. You stride as far away from her as possible, darting into the last bathroom stall and sitting on the closed toilet lid. You pull your knees to your chest and hiss out a sound of frustration when that presses the sticky liquid against your chest and pants. Not your brightest idea, but you were sort of running on fumes right now.

The bathroom stall is extremely clean. One thing you were quickly realising about rich people is they didn’t have to suffer shitty public bathrooms. You didn’t think they deserved it. Like customer service jobs, and traffic, they built character.

What were you doing? Right, trying not to cry. You’re doing much better than yesterday. Still, sitting on top of the toilet’s closed lid, your phone pressed to your face, you wouldn’t say you’re doing ‘good’.

But because you knew George was too much of a pussy to ever enter the woman’s bathrooms, you refuse to move a single inch. You don’t want to go out there. At all. At all, at all. You’d tried to call Jeanine, but she hadn’t answered. Some P.A. she was. You still weren’t going to fire her. Then you remember that she told you she was going out later, and that she’d left a card with you. Digging through your pocket, you decide it’s finally time to die when you realise you lost the card somewhere along the line.

So, she wasn’t going to come save you as your knight in shining armour.

You can’t remember Molly’s number. Who did these days? That was your phone’s job. So you were left with… this. You were left with this. Four blocked numbers and a third had sent an automatic reply because he was driving. Alfred was probably busy. Weren’t butlers always very busy?

…Rich people weren’t often very busy. They had butlers and assistants to do all their chores. You unblock all four of the Waynes that you have on your phone.

The first thing you notice is the amount of texts between ‘you’ and Dick. Scrolling and scrolling, you find most of them are him checking up on you and one-word replies from the old you. He’s friendly and accepting, even when you respond in cruel and aggressive tones. The further back you scroll, the kinder your replies are. At one point it seems like the two of you had a good relationship.

You check the other chats. Tim’s message log is filled with coffee requests sent back and forth between you, Damian’s is completely empty, and Bruce’s has had no response from your phone in years. But eventually, you scroll back far enough that you find an actual conversation instead of just ‘Call Alfred’ repeated every few days.

‘You’: I miss them.

‘Bruce Wayne’: I know. I miss them too.

You press the back button, sighing. That felt like you’d seen something you shouldn’t have, like you’d peeked into someone’s diary. Which was unbelievably stupid. All of this is unbelievably stupid. You should just leave, you should just be brave. Two days ago you faced off against one of your worst fears, but today you couldn’t even handle George Lancaster.

You want someone to rescue you. You know no one will unless you ask. It makes you choke on your own self-disgust. This is the second time in one day. God, maybe you should just do it yourself. It’s not like you couldn’t pay for your own Uber.

And still, you find yourself clicking on a name and begging. Skin crawling, you type and retype the text probably a hundred times. You go from long apologies to begging to rants you never intended to send in the first place. Tap, tap, tap, and then you delete, delete, delete.

What you settle on is simple.

‘You’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx

Maybe a bit too simple. You cross your arms and tuck yourself in the good ol’ fetal position. You feel like you’ve spent half your time holding yourself like this the past three days.

‘Dick Grayson’: I’ll be there in five.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

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samandcolbyownme · 4 months

Text

Summary: Anon request - "so can you maybe write a fanfic where the reader is in a relationship with Colby, but he cheats on her at a party, so to get him back, she cheats on him with Jake but when he finds them in a room getting busy he decides to join"

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, mentions of drinking and smoking (weed and cigarettes), arguing, mean/hurtful things being said, Colby cheating on reader, reader getting even, threesome, choking, biting, hair pulling, scratching, rough unprotected sex, cream pieS, just filth

HUGE disclaimer: I KNOW Colby is a sweetie and wouldn't do any of the things I'm about to write, same with Jake so please don't take any of this serious. I'm already hurting writing them as assholes but also kinda excited. I also made up some people to make the one shot go smoothly - enjoy!

Word count: 7.2k | not edited

Part two

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"Y/n. Are you about ready? With the traffic we're going be late." Colby peaks his head inside the door, smiling when you turn around, "Yeah. I'm ready."

"Wow." His eyes move up and down your body, "That dress looks amazing on you."

You can feel the heat in your cheeks riding up, "Oh.. thanks." He walks in, hands sliding over your hips, "You picked a good one." He presses his lips to your forehead, "Now come on. I can't wait to show you off."

Your hand slides into his as he pulls you towards the doorway. The last few days, something has been off.

Something in your gut telling you not to go to this party, but you didn't want to upset Colby. You knew he was looking forward to this for a while now, so you pushed the feelings away and went anyway.

As you're in the car heading to the party, Colby glances over at you, giving you a smile, "Are you excited?"

You shrug, the feeling in your gut returning, "Yeah." You smile with a nod, "Kind of."

"Kind of? Do you not want to go?" He frown slightly and you shake your head, "No, I want to. I just have this weird feeling that I can't seem to shake."

"I'm sure you'll be fine when you get drink or two in ya." He lays his hand on your knee, hand gripping the wheel as he takes off from the red light he was stopped at.

"Yeah, let's hope." You laugh slightly and look out the window. As you pull up, you can already tell it's going to be a packed house party.

"Maybe that's why." You mumble and Colby looks over at you after he parts, "What's why?"

"There's a lot of people." You look at him and he chuckles, "It's all people you know, baby. Now come on." He gets out, walking around to open your door.

Everything was going good.

"Ayooo." Sam yells from across the parking lot, Kat hanging on his arm, "Hey, y/n!" She waves and you wave back, taking Colby's hand into yours as you walk towards them, "How are you?"

Kat nods, "Better once I've gotten a drink." You nod, "I know what you mean." You walk in with the small group, looking around as the music fills your ears and the smell of weed fills your nose.

"This is going to be so much fun." Sam kisses Kat's cheek, "I'll go get you a drink." Colby looks down at you, "Whatcha want, babe?"

You smile, "Surprise me."

"Ooh, livin on the edge. I like it." Colby kisses your head and jogs to catch up to Sam.

"You two seem to be doing very good." Kat smiles and you nod, "Oh yeah. Never a dull moment, you know." She laughs, sitting down on the small couch, "Yeah, with Colby you never know what to expect."

You didn't really think that applied to your relationship, but you'd soon figure it out.

"Ain't that the truth." You laugh and look over as the boys walk back with the drinks, "Here you go." Colby hands you a drink and you sip it, "Mm. That's good."

"Fruit punch and vodka." He moves next to you, laying a hand on your back as he continues to talk to Sam.

You look at Kat, "We may as well be dating because it sure seems like our boyfriends are boyfriends."

She laughs and looks over at Sam, laughing harder as he looks at her, "Who has a boyfriend?" She points between him and Colby, "You guys."

Colby laughs, "I mean.. I don't mean to brag or anything but.." you all laugh and you shake your head, still sipping on your drink.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

A little while later, you're inside, standing in a group with more people, Jake, Johnnie, and a few others you know well.

You've had a few cups and you were feeling tipsy, you had a small buzz going on. You were giggly with Kat and few of your other friends.

"Need another?" Colby asks and you look down at your half full cup, "No." you look back up at him, "I'm still good for now."

He nods, knocking back the rest of his, "Be right back." Colby walks away and Kat grabs your arm, "We should totally be partners in beer pong."

You nod, "Oh my god! Yes!"

She turns to Sam, "When Colby gets back, bring him over to the pong table so we can play against you guys."

He nods, "Okay. Where'd he go?" He looks around and nods when he sees him getting another drink, "Found him. Okay we'll he over."

Kat grabs your hand, pulling you over to the already set up table, "Okay, which end do you want?" You look and point to the other end, "That side."

You both move to the other end, perfecting the set up of the cups as they walk over, "Alright." Colby says with a smirk, "Who's ready to lose?"

"You guys apparently." You smirk, eyes on Colby, "Losers have to shotgun."

"Deal." Sam and Colby say in unison. Sam rolls a ball over, "Well shoot for who goes first. Good luck babe.”

Kat picks up the ball and tilts her head, "Thanks, you'll need it." She shoots her shot and makes it. Sam makes his and makes it.

"Alright. Our turn." Colby picks up his ball from the water cup and moves it around in his fingers, "Go ahead, babe."

You smile and shake your head, focusing on the cups. You make yours and Colby misses. Sam smacks his arm, "Dude. What the hell."

"Sorry. I was distracted." He winks at you and you roll your eyes as you smile, "Mhm."

Halfway into the game, each teach has two cups left and you've drawn a crowd, mainly for commentary on the playful and flirty trash talking.

Although, you're kind of distracted by Colby looking past you occasionally. You can tell he's looking in your direction, but not at you.

And that's not like him.

You glance behind you, seeing a girl with a smile plastered on her face. You follow her gaze and you know exactly who she's looking at.

You take a deep breath, focusing on the second to last cup - making your shot.

Kat shoots, missing hers, giving the guys a turn.

Colby shoots and misses, usually you'd say something to tease him but at this moment, you don't want to risk saying something that might actually embarrass him.

"What? No trash talk?" Colby holds his arms out to his sides and you just shrug. Kat nudges you and leans in, "Your whole mood just changed."

"I'll tell you then." You say as you catch the ball before it bounces off the table. You sniffle, holding the ball up to take your shot.

You miss and let out a sigh, "hurry up and end this game for us Kat."

They all laugh like you said a joke, but there was nothing funny about it.

Kat makes her shot, giving the boys each a redemption shot, which they both miss. You grab your empty cup, walking away from them as you make your way to the alcohol table in the kitchen.

"Hey. What's going on?" Kat follows you, walking up to your side, "You just got like really mad."

"Is it that noticeable?" You cringe and sigh, "Sorry."

"Whoa. Hi. Its me. Kat. I just won the game for us. Why are you-"

You cut her off, "Colby wasn't looking at me."

"What do you mean he wasn't looking at you?" She looks at you confused and you glance to the door, looking down at your full cup, "The girl behind us. He was looking in my direction but he wasn't looking at me."

"I don't think.." she shakes her head, "No. there's no way Colby would do that. Say something to him. Talk to him."

Sam and Colby walk through the door. Colby is silent as he nods his head for you to come off to the side. You take a silent breath and walk over, avoiding eye contact with him.

"What's going on?" His stare holds on you and you continue to stay quiet. He looks over at Sam and Kat, "Give us a sec guys."

They leave the kitchen and he rubs your arm, "Hey. Talk to me."

You look up at him, "Who were you looking at during the game?"

He looks at you confused, shaking his head slightly as he tries to comprehend what you just asked him, "Who was I what? What do you mean? I was looking at you."

You shake your head, clearing your throat as you try not to let the tears take over, "The girl.. behind Kat and I, she was watching you."

"Jake was standing behind you doing weird motions to try and throw me off." Colby laughs, "I can even go get him and have him-"

"No." You shake your head, "That's fine. I believe you."

"I only have eyes for you, y/n. You know that." He tilts your chin up, rubbing it gently with his fingers, "I love you."

You smile, nodding while his hand is still on your chin, "I love you." He leans in, pressing his lips to yours before leaning back, "Come on. Let's go watch Jake and Johnnie fuck shit up."

He lays his arm over your shoulders and you walk out with him.

Throughout the game, Colby would yell stuff to Jake and look down at you, rubbing your back as he smiled at you.

Maybe you overreacted?

Maybe you needed another drink.

You finish what's in your cup, "Do you need another?" Colby hands you his empty cup, "Please." He kisses your cheek and you smile, turning to go towards the kitchen.

"See." Kat says walking next to you, "Everything is fine. Plus, if he was looking at her, he was probably looking at how awful those extensions are."

You laugh, "Yeah, they are god awful aren't they?" You make the drinks, swirling them around a little to mix them up before you guys head back out.

Everyone is cheering as you walk up to Colby, "What happened?" Colby takes his cup, "They just made both balls in one cup which means they automatically win the game."

"Oh shit. Good for them!" You watch as Jake slowly spins with his arms out to his sides. He accidentally hits Johnnie in the head and you can tell he tells him not to stand there.

You laugh and shake your head as they walk up to you guys, "So. Who wants to play the winners?"

You look at Kat, "Why not?"

She laughs, "Alright. Well give it a go." She walks over to the table with you and Sam and Colby move closer to talk.

"Ladies first." Jake rolls the balls over the table and you smile, "Awe, how sweet of you ladies to let the prettier ones go first."

Jake's jaw drops and Johnnie looks at Jake, "You couldn't have just shot for the first turn? Idiot."

You and Kat laugh, making each of your shots and Jake stares at the table, "Oh fuck." He looks at Johnnie, "I think.. we're screwed."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"And that's game." You look at Kat, "We're good at this."

Kat laughs and nods, "I'd say so." She looks at Jake and Johnnie, "Good game, fellas." She grabs her cup and walks away.

"Let me know if you wanna get screwed again." You laugh and pick up your cup, walking to go find Colby. You see Sam and Kat, but don't see him anywhere.

"Where Colby?" You look at Sam and sip your drink. He shrugs as he bops to the music, "Last I knew he was with a few people taking shots."

"Taking shots?" You scoff quietly and roll your eyes as you take a long drink, "Nice." You walk around, looking all over for him, but you still don't see him.

"Hey, have you seen Colby?" You ask Mason and he shakes his head, "No, sorry." You nod, moving back through the crowd.

You go back to Sam and Kat and lo and behold, Colby is standing there with two shots in his hands. He turns as Sam points to you and he smiles, clearly a lot drunker than when you left him to play another game of pong, "Hey baby! I got you this!"

You take the shot class from his hand, "What is it?"

He takes his, "Just take it."

You sigh and take it, almost gagging when you feel the burn of tequila in your throat, "Oh my god. Colby! That's teq-uila."

You lay your wrist over your mouth and he purses his lips, "Fuck, sorry. You don't like tequila, sorry. I forgot."

You give Kat a look and she nods, "Why don't we go dance?" She nudges Sam, obvious that she filled him in on why there was tension in the air with you.

Sam nods, "Yeah, Colby. Let's go shake some ass, brother." Colby laughs, "Fuck yeah. Let's do it." He reaches for your hand and you take it, smiling slightly.

You make your way onto the dance floor as Yeah! by Usher starts playing.

"This is my jam!" Colby yells out as he grips your hips, moving his own and you can't help but laugh. Sam watches in horror as Colby dances and Kat covers her mouth to not laugh.

"Go Colby!" Sam yells, waving his hand in the air, "Go Colby!"

Soon everyone around you was cheering Colby on, chanting, "Go Colby! Go Colby!"

the song ends and you shake your head, laughing as he walks up to you, "why didn't you dance?" You lay your hands on his chest and you laugh, "You were the star of that song, babe. Good job though."

He laughs and sighs, "I need another drink, do you?" You nod, "That would be nice, do you want me to come with you?" He shakes his head, "No because I'm going to make you a surprise drink."

"No tequila please." You yell as he walks away and your attention is turned to Jake pulling Johnnie onto the floor and dancing around him like he's a stripper pole.

"These two fucking kill me." You say to Kat as you laugh. She nods while laughing, "Poor Johnnie."

Everyone starts cheering for Jake and he eventually starts laughing as walks off, leaving Johnnie to stand there clueless on what to do.

He soon walks off and you look over towards the kitchen, "What's taking him so long?" You mumble to yourself. You look to Kat, "I'll be right back."

She nods and watches you walk away. You walk into the kitchen - no Colby, but what you assume is your cup sitting there because it has the same color lipstick you're wearing printed on the lip of it.

"What the fuck?" You sigh, walking over to make your own drink. You turn around, looking side to side beside walking back out.

"Hey." You stop Jake and he looks at you, "What's up?" You look around, "Have you seen Colby?" You look back at him and he looks around, "I seen him go into the kitchen but not after that."

You nod, giving him a quiet, "Thanks." As you go to walk away, he grabs your arm, "Is everything okay? I've been picking up on some tension."

You laugh slightly, trying to make light of it, "You can feel that?"

"Honey, you can Scooby doo cut that shit like a pie and serve it on a glass plate." He tilts his head, laughing at his own joke, "Yeah. I can."

"Scooby doo that that.." you laugh, "Yeah that's what I was afraid of."

"Come with me." He turns and walks towards the sliding glass doors and you give one last look before following him when you don't see Colby.

"Have a seat, miss. Talk to therapist Jake." He sits down and pulls a cigarette out of the pack. He extends his arm out and you shake your head, "I'm fine."

"Suit yourself." He lights it and takes a drag, "Now, when did, whatever is going on, start?"

You laugh and let out a sigh, "When we were playing beer pong. I swear he was staring at a girl who was standing behind me. But I talked to him and he said you were also standing behind me doing stuff to distract him."

Jake stares at you for a few seconds, "I was force feeding shots to Johnnie. I meant I came in towards the end but I wasn't standing behind you guys. I was more off to the side."

You clench your jaw, "Huh.. okay. Well that makes sense as to why I didn't see you then."

"What girl are we talking about?" He crosses his leg over the other and rests his elbow on the arm rest of the chair.

"I don't know who it is. All I know is that her extensions are horrific and she should sue her hair dresser." You raise your brows and huff, "She has brown hair, it was half up, half down. Wearing, I think a pinkish purplish two piece dress thing."

"I think you're talking about Casie. And if you are.." Jake takes another drag, "You don't have anything to worry about. Colby can't stand her."

You nod, "Well, that's a good thing.. I think." You finish your drink and crinkle the cup in your hand, "I just.. okay. I had this really weird gut feeling about coming here tonight and I just.."

You sigh and look at Jake. He leans forward, "Colby would be the absolute, most dumbest mother fucker in the world if he did anything to ruin your guys relationship."

"Yeah." You nod, laughing as you convince yourself that you're just causing a bigger thing within your own mind, "You're right."

You sigh and stand up, "Thank you, therapist Jake."

He smiles and holds his hands out, "Anytime. Anytime."

You walk back inside and something is off. No matter how hard you try to convince yourself that it's just you, you can't shake it.

You walk into the kitchen, making yourself another drink before walking back out. For some reason, something tells you to walk to the back of the house.

As you round the corner, you stop in your tracks. Your hand crushes the liquid filled cup, a constant stream falling out of the split sides.

Colby has that girl against the wall, hands on her hips as his tongue is in her mouth. She opens her eyes, smirking at you as he starts to kiss down her neck.

You see her mouth, "uh oh" and giggle as Colby leans away. He looks at her then turns his head, eyes going wide as he realizes that he'd just been caught ruining the once perfect relationship.

You turn, walking away before he even steps towards you.

"He- whoa. Hey. Hey." Kat holds onto your arm as she stumbles with you, "y/n. Hey. Wha-"

"Colby was kissing that girl. Kissing down her neck while pinning her against the wall." Your anger bubbles up more as you repeat what you just saw, "Fucking asshole."

Kat is as a loss for words and you sigh, "I need a minute." You pull your arm away from her and she immediately rushes to Sam to tell him the awful news.

You go outside, walking down towards the cars as you try to hold it together. You bend down, laying a hand on the back of a car.

It just so happens to be Jake's car.

"There better not be puke on my car." He laughs slightly as he leans out of the door, quickly coming to the realization that you are in fact not puking.

"Hey. What's going on?" He gets out, bending down to get to your eye level. He brushes hair from your face and drops his hand, "He didn't."

You look at him and nod, "Mhm. Had her.. pinned up again the wall.. kissing on her neck. She was absolutely loving the fact that I caught them. Exactly what the bitch wanted, too."

You scoff, looking away as you shake your head.

"I'm- fuck. Im so sorry." Jake drags his finger over the rocks, "Can I do anything?" He shifts forward, resting on his knees, "What can I do?"

You look at Jake, locking eyes with him, "I-" you stop yourself from saying something you might possibly regret later, but right now, you weren't looking to flip out on Colby.

You weren't looking to be made a fool in front of the hundreds of people that were here.

You were looking for revenge.

"I want.. to get him back." You keep your stare on Jake and he shrugs, "I mean, if that's what you want to do.. then go talk to him. Get him back, girl." He laughs slightly and you shake your head, moving closer to him, "No.. I want to.."

Your eyes jump back and forth from his lips to his eyes before grabbing his blank tank top and pulling yourself into meet his lips with yours.

At first he's shocked, leans away and stares at you. He licks his lips, a slow smirk growing on his lips, "Yeah, fuck him."

He cups your face, pulling you back in to kiss him. Your lips move with his, moaning quietly against his as you feel a sense of power wash over you.

"Do they have empty rooms here?" You lean back, tilting your head and he raises his brows, "Oh, you want to take this all the way?"

You nod, "Only if you're okay with it."

"I've done worse things. I'll meet you upstairs." He quickly gets up, shutting his car door and makes his way inside.

You slowly stand up, looking around to see if anyone saw what just went down. Luckily, you didn't see anyone, but a part of you wishes someone had.

You wipe under your eyes, your mind on one thing right now.

Jake waiting for you upstairs.

As you walk in, rounding the corner, you run into someone. You step back looking up and instantly shake your head as you see Colby looking down at you.

"No. Mm. Not doing this here." You go to walk around him to the stairs but he grabs your arm, "Please.. can we just talk?"

"Talk? You want to talk?" You scoff, "okay. Fine. Let's talk." Your voice isn't quite a yell, but it's enough to get the attention of the people that are close to you, "let's talk about how we are now obviously not who we used to be."

Colby stands there, looking from everyone staring then back to you, "Y/n."

"You wanna know why we aren't who we used to be? Because you had to go.." you step towards him, "..and fucking cheat on me."

Colby frowns at your voice cracking, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? For what? Not remembering that you have a girlfriend?" You lay a hand on your forehead and sigh, "You know what. Fuck you. Fuck you." You push him slightly, "How fucking could you?"

The tears are now on the verge of winning and your heart shatters more when you see Kat standing there with tears in her eyes.

Colby is silent. Unable to find the right words to say, not like there is any.

"Now, if you'll excuse me." Your voice goes almost silent as you walk away. Quickly making your way up the stairs case.

All of the doors are closed and you just pick one and walk in, shutting the door behind you. You turn around and jump slightly when you see Jake sitting on the bed, "Long time no see."

You laugh slightly as you wipe under your eyes, "I just slightly lost it on Colby."

"As you should." Jake tilts his head as he leans back, holding his body up with his arms extended behind him, "Should have clocked him too while you were at it." Jake bites his lip, "Now that would have been sexy as hell."

You laugh slightly as you walk over to him. You stand in front of him, looking up and down his body as you slowly move to straddle his waist.

He moves one hand forward, placing it on your thigh, "What do you want to do here, y/n."

You slowly push his tank top up his abdomen, "I think you know what I want to do." You look up at him and he nods, "Yeah." His hand drags up and down your bare thigh, "I think I have an idea."

You lean forward and his hands move to your ass as he lays back. You flip your hair behind you and lean in to kiss him.

The slow make out quickly turns into a heated, full of passion and revenge make out.

His hands slip under your dress, squeezing your ass as you grind down on his growing bulge. Your voice is quiet, "Fuck me, Jake."

He can't help but smirk as you kiss back his jaw and down his neck, "please." You beg in a whimpered tone, "I need you."

He rolls over, laying his body over yours and your hands immediately move to help him undo his pants.

He frees his cock, pushing your legs open more with his hips.

He pushes your panties to the side, running his fingers up and down your folds a few times, "Shit, you really want this don't you?"

You nod, "I've always found you hot. I can admit that now, right?" Your smirk goes away as soon as he pushes his fingers inside of you.

You whimper, trying to moan quietly as he slowly pulls them out and pushes them back in, "You're so much hotter to me now."

He leans down, lips crashing onto yours as his fingers work in and out. You lay your hand on his cheek as you reach down with the other one, gently wrapping your hand around his cock.

He pulls his fingers out and leans up, spitting into his hand so he can coat himself before rubbing the tip against your pussy.

He watches his cock go into you before leaning back down, lips brushing over your cheek as you moan, "Fuck." Your nails dig into the skin his tank top doesn't cover and you drag them outward, "Jake."

He groans lowly into your neck as he starts to slowly thrusts his hips. He kisses up, making his way back to your lips. Your fingers lace in his hair, tugging slightly as your leg lays over his back, "Yes, yes, yes!"

You were so in the moment you didn't hear the door open then close. You look over Jake's shoulder, smirking when you lock eyes with Colby, "Uh oh."

Jake leans up, looking at you confused before he follows your stare and quickly gets up, covering himself.

Colby's stare is on you.

"What the fuck is this?" He points between you and Jake and you shrug, "What the fuck was that downstairs?"

Colby sighs, "That wasn't.."

"What? Wasn't what it looked like? Because, correct me if I'm wrong but.." you sit up, "That definitely looked like you were cheating on me."

"It was a fucking kiss, y/n. I didn't put my fucking dick in her."

"Yeah, but I bet you wanted to." You lift your hand and drop it, "That was the goal, right? From the moment you stared at her through me at the pong table?"

He shakes his head, "No. none of it was planned okay."

"Then why were you kissing down her neck, pulling her closer to you? Doing all the things you do to me?" You cross your leg over the other, leaning back on the bed, "I am just so.. fucking mad at you. I wanted you to feel how I felt."

Colby stands there in silence, you can see his anger bubbling up, and you knew what he wanted to do.

But you weren't going to make it easy for him.

Jake points to the door, "I'm just go-" he starts walking towards the door but Colby's words make him stop, "No. Jake. Stay."

"Yeah, Jake. Stay. I'm not done yet." You look over at Jake and bite your lip.

Colby chuckles, "Mm. I see what's happening here. You want to what, punish me? Fine." He motions to Jake, "Punish away."

Jake stands there, thinking about the situation.

"Was she a good kisser?" You look at Colby and he shakes his head, "Not even slightly good." You raise your brows, "Mm."

"Come on, y/n. I don't know what you want me to do." Colby scoffs, laughing slightly, "Do you want me to watch you fuck Jake? Is that what you want?"

You shake your head, "No. I want you to share me with him as you tell me just how sorry you really are."

Jake's eyes are on you, leaving you alone with Colby wasn't happening.

Leaving you in general wasn't happening.

He wasn't done with you, either.

"Well, are you going to try and fix this. Or are you going to go down and ki-" Your words are cut off by Colby over and pressing his lips to yours. You wanted to throw him off, push him away.

Anything, but you couldn't.

You needed him.

You needed Jake.

You needed them both so bad you were aching. If this was the last time you were with Colby, might as well make it a good one.

For Jake, not Colby.

Your anger didn't just go away, you still wanted him to feel like his heart had been ripped out.

"Need you both." You gasp out as Colby sucks a mark into your neck. You look over at Jake, reaching out for him. He comes over, taking your hand into his.

Colby's hand slides down your body, slipping in between your thighs. Jake moves to sit down next to you, his hand lays on your neck, squeezing slowly as he leans down to kiss you.

You moan into his mouth as Colby's fingers slip inside of you. Your hand moves to Jake's half zipped jeans, gripping the waistline of them, "Please."

Jake lets go of your neck, moving his hands down to undo his jeans.

Colby clenches his jaw, pulling his fingers out as he tilts his head, watching you watch Jake. His eyes follow your hand as they wrap around his cock.

He doesn't like it.

Not even in the slightest little way.

You shift around, leaning forward so your ass is in the air. Jake focuses on you because he knows Colby isn't happy.

But as he should be, right?

You stick your tongue out, dragging it up the underside of Jake's cock, earning a low moan from him.

Colby shakes his head, looking away as he cocks his jaw. He clears his throat and you pay no attention. You wrap your lips around the head of Jake's cock, moaning slightly as you take more of him in.

"Fuck." He whispers lowly as he lays a hand on the back of your head, "Just like that." He pulls his lower lip between his teeth, tilting his head back slightly as he looks over at Colby.

If looks could kill, Jake would be dead.

Colby looks away, walking around to get behind you. His hands push your dress up more, moving it to around your waist before sliding his hands over your ass.

His hand lifts up, coming down in a hard slap, earning a whimper from your lips. You continue bobbing your head, swirling your tongue, putting all of your focus onto Jake.

Colby pulls your panties away from your body, holding the over with his thumb as he works on getting his cock freed with one hand.

You feel his spit run down over your folds and it drips onto the bed. He moves forward, rubbing his cock against your folds before slowly pushing it, a groan leaving his lips.

You dig your nails into Jake's thighs, fighting back the urge to moan.

You lift your head, a string of saliva still connecting you to Jake. He wipes the corner of your mouth and gets down, getting on his knees at the side of the bed.

His hands cup your cheeks, leaning in to kiss you as Colby’s hands grip your hips harsher. You whimper, failing at what you were trying not to do.

You moan into Jake’s mouth and push your hips back to meet Colby’s. Jake runs a hand through your hair, his other hand cupping your chin as his thumb lays over your lips.

You wrap your lips around his thumb, tilting your head back as Colby thrusts all the way in and holds himself there.

“You still want me?” Colby asks in a cocky tone. Your eyes meet Jake’s, “No. I want Jake.”

Jake looks at Colby and Colby chuckles as he pulls out, “I see, you wanna see who fucks you better.” You roll over onto your back, “Go fuck yourself, Colby.”

You reach up, pulling Jake down on top of you. Your knees resting on his hips.

“You know.. maybe I will.” Colby sits down and wraps a hand around his cock, “Go on. Don’t let me stop you.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” You roll your eyes, trying to focus on Jake and not let Colby get under your skin anymore than he already has.

Jake reaches down, holding his cock steady as he pushes into you with a low groan. You gasp, wrapping a leg around his waist as you moan, “Fuck.”

You really weren’t just moaning for show, Jake really knew what he was doing.

You can feel Colby’s heated stare on you as you drag your nails across Jake’s exposed shoulders.

Colby really didn’t like this, as to why he fixed himself and just sat there, but you both were too stubborn to just call it quits.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Jake whispers in your ear and you move your head to kiss him, moaning against his lips.

Colby sat there in pure anger. Watching one of his closest friends fuck his girlfriend.

Ex. Girlfriend.

“Fuck, fuck.” You whimper, back arching off the bed, “so close.” You lace your fingers in Jake’s hair, tugging as you feel your orgasm roll in hard.

Your leg tightens around his waist as you clench his cock, pulling him closer to his own.

“Fuck, y/n.. you got-“ he reaches back taking one of your legs and pinning it up so he has room to pull out. He groans as his thrusts grow slightly sloppy, meaning he’s almost there.

You gasp when he pulls out, biting your lip as you feel his cum string over your thighs, running down to pool on the bed.

You turn your head, breathing heavy as you meet Colby’s stare with your own as Jake stands up to dress himself correctly.

“Are you happy?” Colby’s words are quiet and you laugh slightly, “You mean with Jake?” You nod as you sit up, “Yeah, I really am. He knows what he’s doing.”

“Mm.” Colby runs his hand over his face, “Can we have the room please. If you’re done.” He looks at Jake and Jake crosses his arms, “I don’t really feel comfortable leaving her with you.”

“I’m not going to fucking hurt her, asshole.” Colby shoots, “I just… we need to talk.”

“I don’t think we need to talk right now, Colby. Because the things I want to say to you, won’t be nice.” You wipe off and stand up, fixing yourself, “I just really want to go the fuck home. I should have never came to this fucking party in the first place.”

“Mm. So you’re just going to leave me here after the betrayal I just witnessed?” Colby scoffs, “I see how it is.”

“It really seems like you’re forgetting about what I witnessed downstairs.. if you really want to get technical, I guess it was a betrayal times two.” You roll your eyes, “I’m not doing this. Jake..” you turn to look at him, “Can you take me home?”

“You’re done? Just like that?” Colby asks and you look at him, “I was done the minute I saw you looking at her through me.”

You walk towards the door, Jake following you out as you make your way down the steps.

Eyes are on you, of course, and you hear people asking about the scratches on Jake’s shoulders, but you ignore it all.

You walk out, making your way to Jake’s car and getting in. You pull your phone out, laughing when you see the amount of missed calls you have from Colby.

Jake gets in, “So where to?”

“Colby’s, I need to get as much stuff as I can.” You look out the window as he drives forward.

“Then where?” Jake looks over at you and back to the road, “Do you have any family here or anything?”

“All a few hundred miles away.” You shrug letting out a sigh, “I’ll figure it out.”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

A week later

“So.. wait..” Kat shakes her head, “You and.. Jake? In front of Colby?” She rests her fingers on her forehead, “That’s.. actually crazy.”

“Colby didn’t tell Sam any of that?” You raise your brows as she shakes her head, “Nothing. He closed up completely after coming down that night. He didn’t speak to no one. Not even Sam.”

“Wow.. you know he’s bad when he doesn’t even talk to Sam.” You chew on your lip, “Did that girl and him..” you trail off, eyes moving to look at her and she shakes her head again, “No. she went up to him but he ignored her. She threw a drink on him and that was when he made Sam take him home.”

“She threw a drink on him?” You scoff, “What a bitch.”

Kat nods, “It literally took all I had and a few people telling me not to make a scene. I was ready to go to war for you.”

You smile, “That’s why you’re my best friend.” You sigh, “Thanks for letting me stay here.”

“As long as you need.” She reaches over to pat your hand and stands up, “I have to go meet Sam for lunch, do you want me to bring you anything back?”

You shrug, “You know what I like.”

She nods, “Call if you need anything, even if it’s just to talk.” You nod, “I’ll be fine, but thank you.”

She smiles as she leaves and you lay back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Your mind goes back to that night, thinking about Jake and Colby. Together.

You shake your head, not really wanting to be upset right now because a part of you does feel bad, but an even bigger part of you is glad you did it.

You’ve been talking to Jake everyday, mainly him asking you how you’re doing and just chatting about his new videos that he’s putting out soon.

Anything to keep Colby off of your mind.

Your phone rings and you sit up. You reach out to grab it and you freeze up when you see Colby’s name across the screen.

“Fuck.” You whisper and take a deep breath before picking up your phone. Your thumb shakes over the answer button and you hit it right before the call is about to end.

You’re silent as you wait for Colby to speak first but he’s doing the same thing you’re doing.

“I don’t know why I called.” He chuckles nervously, “I-I’m sorry.”

“I take it Sam left you to meet up with Kat for lunch?” Your voice is quiet and he sighs in relief at you speaking, “Yeah. Yeah.”

You pick at your nail polish, eyes searching the room as you think of what to say next, but nothing comes up that’s worth saying.

“I’m sorry.” Colby’s voice shakes, “We shouldn’t have went to that party. I’m sorry. I should have listened to you.”

“Doesn’t matter anymore.” You mumble, quickly swiping away a stray tear, “Everything is said and done and I-“

Colby cuts you off, “I just wish I could go back to that night. I know I can’t change anything but I’m willing to do anything it takes, y/n. I fucked up.” Colby sniffles, “I fucked up, big time.”

“Yeah. You did.” You bite your thumb nail and sigh, “I’m not sorry about what I did with Jake. I need you to know that.”

“No, no I don’t expect you to be.” He laughs slightly and you sigh, “What’s so funny, Colby?”

“Nothing it’s just..” he laughs and sighs, “Nothing.”

“Mm.” You nod your head and he sniffles again, “I was pissed, of course I was pissed but at the same time..” he trails off and your heart starts to race, “but at the same time? What Colby?”

“I was so fucking turned on with it.”

His words catch you off guard, “What did you just say?” You sit up slightly and he sighs, “I’m not repeating it. You heard me the first time.”

A small smirk toys with your lips, “which part?”

“All of it.” Colby answers quickly, “as soon as I walked in… seeing him on you.. seeing him in you..” he pauses for a second, “I just.. I wanted to kill him but seeing him give you that mu-“

“What are you saying?” You ask, “Are you saying you want me to call up Jake and have him meet us for another threesome?” You laugh because you think he’s joking but when he doesn’t say anything it clicks, “oh,” you lay your hand over your lips, “You’re serious.”

“If it will get you to come back to me, I’m willing to share you with Jake. I’m willing to do anything, y/n. I swear.”

You go quiet as you push a few buttons on your phone.

“You there, babe?” Colby asks and you smirk, “Yep, hang on.”

You add Jake into the call, “Jake, hey.”

“What’s up sugar lips?” Jake asks and you laugh, “Colby has something he wants to talk to you about.”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Wowza. Okay. Please tell me how this was.. a part of me feels like it isn’t as good as it could have been but another part is like holy shit. I wrote this.

Love you all! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

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doctorbitchcrxft · 24 days

Text

Home | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mention of parental death, mentions of abuse

Word Count: 4388

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You sat cross-legged on the floor of the boys’ motel room, sipping a coffee you’d run out to get earlier that morning. Dean was on his computer, and you were responding to the potential cases he’d found.

“A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali—” Dean started.

“Ooh, I like Cali,” you cut him off.

“—Its crew vanished.” He finished.

“And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas.”

“Meh, that’s boring. Let somebody else handle that one,” you dismissed.

Dean noticed Sam hadn’t spoken in just about the last hour. He was frantically scribbling on a notepad.

“Hey,” Dean called to his brother. “Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?”

“No. I’m listening. Keep going.”

He clearly wasn’t.

“And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times.”

“Ooh, I like that one,” you said.

Dean leaned over and waved a hand in front of Sam’s face. “Any of these things blowin’ up your skirt, pal?”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows at his notepad. “Wait. I’ve seen this.”

“Seen what?” you asked.

Sam got up from his bed and began rifling through his duffel bag.

“What are you doing?” Dean eyed his brother strangely.

The younger brother pulled out a photo from the bag and held it up next to his drawing. You couldn’t quite see what he was looking at from where you sat.

“Guys, I know where we have to go next.”

“Where?” Dean asked.

“Back home. Back to Kansas,” he responded.

The older brother was surprised. “Okay, random. Where’d that come from?”

He showed the photo to the two of you. “Alright, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?”

“Yeah…?” Dean still had no idea where he was going with this.

“And it didn’t burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?”

Dean— as well as you— was still lost. “I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy but… the people who live in our old house— I think they might be in danger,” Sam rushed out.

“Why would you think that?” you questioned.

“Uh… it’s just, um… look, just trust me on this, okay?” Sam turned away.

“Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?” Dean shook his head and stood to follow him. “Come on, man, that’s weak. You gotta give us a little bit more than that.”

“I can’t really explain it is all,” Sam shrugged.

“Well, tough. I’m not goin’ anywhere until you do.”

You turned to face Sam as he began to explain. “I have these nightmares.”

You nodded. “We’ve noticed.”

“And sometimes… they come true.”

Dean was stunned. “Come again?”

“Look, Dean… I dreamt about Jessica’s death— for days before it happened,” Sam explained.

“Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.” Dean sat back down on the edge of his bed.

“No,” the younger brother protested. “I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn’t do anything about it ‘cause I didn’t believe it. And now I’m dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that’s where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?”

You felt overwhelmed, and so did Dean. “I don’t know.”

Sam sat down across from his brother. “What do you mean you don’t know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!”

“Sam, slow down—” you urged him, knowing Dean was about to go through the roof.

Sure enough, Dean stood and started pacing. “I mean, first you tell me that you’ve got the Shining? And then you tell me that I’ve gotta go back home? Especially when….”

“When what?” you asked.

Dean’s voice broke for the first time since you’d met him. “When I swore to myself that I would never go back there?”

Sam’s puppy dog eyes appeared as he spoke softly, “Look, Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure.”

Dean nodded. “I know we do.”

***

You looked out at the boys’ childhood home and followed them up to the front door.

“You gonna be alright, man?” Sam asked his brother who didn’t respond.

“Jury’s still out on that,” you muttered in response.

Dean knocked on the front door, and a young woman answered. You could see a look of recognition pass over Sam’s face.

“Yes?” the woman said.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but we’re with the Federal—”

One Winchester cut the other off. “I’m Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean. We used to live here. You know, we were just drivin’ by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place.”

The woman seemed surprised and smiled. “Winchester. Yeah, that’s so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night.” She turned to you. “Are you a Winchester, too? I didn’t see a little girl in any of the pictures.”

You shook your head. “No, no. Just a friend. (Y/N).”

She smiled at you. “Nice to meet you. Come on in.”

Inside the home, a girl who looked to be around seven sat at the table doing homework, and a little boy who was presumably two jumped in his playpen.

“Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!” the toddler called excitedly.

“That’s Ritchie. He’s kind of a juice junkie,” Jenny explained, taking a sippy cup from the fridge and bringing it to her son. “But, hey, at least he won’t get scurvy.” She walked back over to her daughter. “Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). The boys used to live here.”

“Hi,” the shy girl said quietly.

You waved.

“So, you just moved in?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, from Wichita.”

“You got family here, or…?”

Jenny’s smile faded. “No. I just, uh… needed a fresh start, that’s all. So, new town, new job— I mean, as soon as I find one. New house.”

“So, how you likin’ it so far?” Sam questioned.

Jenny laughed awkwardly. “Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home— I mean, I’m sure you had lots of happy memories here—”

You discreetly turned to see Dean smile weakly.

“But this place has its issues,” she finished.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well, it’s just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We’ve got flickering lights almost hourly.”

That caught your attention. “Oh, that’s too bad. What else?”

“Um…sink’s backed up, there’s rats in the basement…” She trailed off. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain.”

Dean shook his head. “No. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?”

Jenny looked at him quizzically. “It’s just the scratching, actually.”

Sari tugged on her mom’s shirt, who stooped down next to her. “Ask them if it was here when they lived here.”

“What, Sari?” Sam asked.

“The thing in my closet,” she whispered as if the thing would hear.

“Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets.” Jenny looked up to you and the boys. “Right?”

They shook their heads.

“She had a nightmare the other night,” Jenny explained.

Sari’s voice suddenly got louder. “I wasn’t dreaming. It came into my bedroom and it was on fire.”

The boys seemed too shocked to speak.

You took over. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You’re okay now though, right?”

She nodded.

“See? It didn’t get ya. It was only a dream.”

You knew it wasn’t. A pit filled your stomach after saying your goodbyes to the family and heading out of the door.

“You hear that? A figure on fire,” Sam reminded the two of you.

“And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams?” Dean asked.

"Yeah. And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just freaked out that your weirdo visions are comin’ true,” the older brother chuckled humorlessly.

“Well, forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think it’s the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?”

“I don’t know!” Dean responded.

The brothers were only making each other panic worse at this point.

“Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?” Sam inquired.

“Or maybe it’s something else entirely, Sam, we don’t know yet.”

“Both of you need to calm down,” you told them, simultaneously getting in the car. “We’re gonna get those people safe. Whatever’s in there is not gonna hurt you or those people.”

“Thank you, Dr. Phil,” Dean remarked.

You snapped into a more intense tone, leaning over the backseat. “Look, dude, you’re gonna get your shit together. The two of you are only ramping each other up. Now, you are going to get a grip or I will do this job on my own.”

Sam and Dean both nodded.

“You’re runnin’ low on gas, Dee.” You patted Dean’s cheek before sitting back against your chair.

***

“We just gotta chill out, that’s all,” Dean said as he pumped gas.

“I’ve tried telling you that eighty times since we left that house.”

He ignored your snide comment. “You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?”

"We’d try to figure out what we were dealin’ with. We’d dig into the history of the house,” Sam sighed.

"Exactly,” the older brother began, “except this time, we already know what happened.”

"Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?”

"About that night, you mean?”

"Yeah.”

Dean paused. “Not much. I remember the fire… the heat. And then I carried you out the front door.”

You looked at the floor, knowing how hard this must be for him to open up.

“You did?” the younger Winchester asked.

"Yeah, what, you never knew that?”

"No.”

“And, well, you know Dad’s story as well as I do. Mom was— was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her.”

“And he never had a theory about what did it?”

“If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times.”

"Okay. So, if we’re gonna figure out what’s goin’ on now…we have to figure out what happened back then. And see if it’s the same thing.”

You decided to add your two cents. “Yeah. We can talk to your dad’s friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time.”

Silence blanketed the three of you for a moment, the air feeling heavy.

“Does this feel like just another job to you?” Sam piped up.

‘Of course, it doesn’t,’ you thought.

Dean kept quiet for a moment. “I’ll be right back,” he finally said. “I gotta go to the bathroom.” He walked away, and you watched him turn the corner around the gas station. He looked back for a moment, and you assumed it was to see if anyone had followed him.

You furrowed your brows. You allowed a few minutes to pass before you announced to Sam, “I’m gonna go check on Dean.”

While you turned the corner, you saw Dean exiting the bathroom door. He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. When he noticed you, he tried to shoulder his normal attitude.

“You stalkin’ me?”

“No, actually, I came to check on you.”

“Well, I’m fine.” He went to brush past you.

You grabbed his bicep. “Don’t lie to me.”

He stopped, looking you over. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”

“Then what’s this?” you gently brushed your first finger under his chin, picking up a tear he had forgotten to wipe away. You held it up for him to see.

Dean opened his mouth to say something before snapping it shut again. He gently pulled his arm out of your grip. “C’mon, let’s go.” He started walking away from you.

You caught up to him, asking, “Are you sure you don’t just want me to do this one by myself?”

He nodded sharply.

Sam gave you a curious look while Dean got in the car.

You shook your head before the two of you ducked into the Impala simultaneously.

***

The three of you spoke to a man who had owned a car garage with John years ago. You learned how much John had changed before Mary’s death versus after, and you began to understand why Dean was the way he was. You also learned that he had been going to see a palm reader in town. Dean recognized the names of one of the palm readers Sam had read from a compiled list: Missouri Moseley. The three of you went over to her house and waited in her foyer as she finished with her last client.

She guided the client out of the door. “Alright, there. Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you.”

The man thanked her, and she closed the door behind you.

She addressed the three of you. “Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin’ the gardener.”

You giggled.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Dean asked.

“People don’t come here for the truth. They come for good news,” the woman explained. You stared at her, as did the boys.

“Well? Sam, Dean, (Y/N), come on already, I ain’t got all day.”

You looked at Dean. You knew you hadn’t told her your name. The three of you followed her into the next room.

“Well, lemme look at ya,” she smiled at the boys. “Oh, you boys grew up handsome.” She pointed her finger at Dean. “And you were one goofy-lookin’ kid, too.”

You giggled again. You liked her a lot.

“Sam.” Missouri grabbed his hand. “Oh, honey…I’m sorry about your girlfriend. And your father— he’s missin’?”

“How’d you know all that?” Sam asked her.

“Well, you were just thinkin’ it just now.”

“Well, where is he? Is he okay?” Dean questioned.

Missouri’s smile faded. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t know? Well, you’re supposed to be a psychic, right?”

“Boy, you see me sawin’ some bony tramp in half? You think I’m a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can’t just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please.”

You smirked at Sam and sat down.

Missouri snapped at Dean. “Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I’m ‘a whack you with a spoon!”

“I didn’t do anything!” he responded.

“But you were thinkin’ about it.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, and you and Sam smiled.

“(Y/N), honey, I didn’t mean to completely disregard you,” she smiled at you. “(Y/L/N)... where do I know that name from?” She pondered for a moment and her smile faded. “I knew your dad. Mean ol’ bastard.”

Your throat clenched. You could feel the boys looking at you, but you kept your eyes on Missouri.

“I don’t mean to embarrass you,” she went on. “I’m just sorry about what he did to you. And your brother? You poor thing.” She tsked.

Tears welled in your eyes.

Sam knew he should change the subject. “Okay. So, our dad— when did you first meet him?”

“He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say I drew back the curtains for him,” Missouri explained.

“What about the fire? Do you know about what killed our mom?” Dean questioned.

“A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin’ I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing.”

“And could you?”

You tried to focus on the conversation, but your throat was still choked up. You could vaguely register them talking about what Missouri sensed in their house and how she had been keeping an eye on the place since Mary’s passing. All you could focus on were the memories you were being pulled back into. Memories of what your father put you through and how your mother just stood by. Memories of defending your brother against your father’s wickedness. You tried your best to pull yourself back to the light; you knew Missouri could hear what you were thinking. You wouldn’t let yourself be weak enough to let your father hurt you eight years after his death.

“Baby, you are not weak.” Missouri’s voice pulled you back to shore. “I’m sorry I brought all that up for you.”

You nodded at her, voice too weak to respond. Sam squeezed your hand, and you could feel Dean’s gaze boring into the side of your head.

***

You and the boys headed back to their childhood home with Missouri. You still couldn’t register what was going on outside of your own head. You knew Missouri hadn’t truly brought anything up for you; these memories were all just buried under the surface for you. Hunting didn’t exactly leave much time for you to dwell on your emotions.

Jenny allowed Missouri to come into her home and showed her and your trio into Sari’s bedroom. You were beginning to come back to earth and could focus on the conversation happening around you.

“If there’s a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it,” Missouri explained, walking around Sari’s room.

“Why?” Sam asked.

Missouri turned to him. “This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened.”

Dean pulled out his repurposed walkman.

“That an EMF?” Missouri asked.

“Yeah,” Dean answered.

“Amateur,” she deadpanned.

You noticed the EMF was beeping frantically.

“I don’t know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain’t the thing that took your mom,” Missouri told the Winchesters.

“Wait, are you sure?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

She nodded.

“How do you know?”

“It isn’t the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It’s somethin’ different.”

“What is it?” Dean asked.

“Not it.” Missouri opened the closer. “Them. There’s more than one spirit in this place.”

“What are they doing here?” Dean asked.

“They’re here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected,” Missouri elaborated.

Sam shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It’s attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won’t rest until Jenny and her babies are dead.”

“You said there was more than one spirit.”

“There is. I just can’t quite make out the second one.”

Dean’s voice became hard. “Well, one thing’s for damn sure— nobody’s dyin’ in this house ever again. So whatever is here, how do we stop it?”

***

After Missouri taught you how to pack small protection bags that you and the boys were to place in the cardinal points on both floors in Jenny’s house, you had to get Jenny and her kids out of harm's way.

“Look, I’m not sure I’m comfortable leaving you guys here alone,” she told Missouri.

“Just take your kids to the movies or somethin’, and it’ll be over by the time you get back.”

You could tell the woman was still unsure, but she followed orders anyway. And with that, the four of you got to work.

When you were halfway done with the job, things started to get ugly. Just as you were about to place your second and final bag in the wall of Jenny’s bedroom, a cord snaked around your neck and pulled tightly. You dropped the bag of herbs to the ground; unable to get it into the wall in time. You gasped for air, frantically reaching for the bag but the spirit’s hold was too strong. Your vision began to spot and your face contorted in discomfort; doing the best you could to get air in your lungs. It was no use. Just when you thought it was over, Dean rushed to your side.

“(Y/N)!” he cried, pulling at the cord with all his might.

You clawed at your neck with one hand and motioned to the bag of herbs with the other. Dean understood what you were trying to say, and kicked a hole in the wall. He quickly put the bag inside, and your neck was released. Your head fell to the ground gasping for air.

Dean pulled you into a fierce hug that left you breathless. He pulled back from you, holding your face on either side. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. He gingerly touched the place where the cord had undoubtedly bruised your neck. “Can you stand?”

You nodded again. With Dean’s help, you made your way down to Missouri and Sam who stood in the middle of an extremely messy kitchen. Jenny’s kitchen table had been turned on its side with knives driven through the top of it, assumedly by the ghosts. The refrigerator door was swung wide open, and various items from the pantry had spilled out all over the place.

“You sure this is over?” Sam asked the psychic.

“I’m sure. Why? Why do you ask?”

Sam sighed in response. “Never mind. It’s nothin’, I guess.”

The front door opened.

“Hello? We’re home,” Jenny announced when she walked into the house. She came into the kitchen, dumbfounded by the mess. “What happened?”

"Hi, sorry. Um, we’ll pay for all of this,” Sam told her.

“Don’t you worry. Dean’s gonna clean up this mess,” Missouri added.

Dean stood glued to his spot.

“Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop.”

He glared at Missouri, but began walking away nonetheless.

“And don’t cuss at me!”

***

You remained confused by how Dean had hugged you for the rest of the night which you spent in the Impala parked in front of Jenny’s house.

“Alright, so, tell me again, what are we still doin’ here?” Dean asked his brother.

“I don’t know. I just… I still have a bad feeling,” he responded.

“Why? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over.”

“Yeah, well, probably. But I just wanna make sure, that’s all.”

Dean slumped down in his seat. “Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now.”

You slumped down in your seat, too, only to see Jenny screaming and banging on her bedroom window. “Guys, look!”

The three of you rushed into the house.

“You two grab the kids, I’ll get Jenny,” Dean said.

You nodded and sprinted to Ritchie’s room. The sleeping toddler was startled when you woke him up, but allowed you to carry him downstairs nonetheless. You met Sam by the front door who said to Sari, “Take your brother outside as fast as you can, and don’t look back.” She obliged and took the little boy from you.

Before the two of you could do anything else, you were slammed to the ground and dragged backward across the tile floor. You could hear poor Sari screaming as you and Sam were dragged away.

You were pinned to the wall by an invisible force and pushed up toward the ceiling. You could hear presumably Dean hacking away at the door, trying desperately to get in as a figure on fire approached you.

Dean made his way into the home and called your names frantically. He raised his gun at the fire figure when he caught sight of it.

“No, don’t! Don’t!” Sam cried.

“What, why?!” you asked.

“Because I know who it is. I can see her now.”

And then, the fire vanished revealing who you recognized from pictures as Mary Winchester. She was wearing a white nightgown and her blonde hair billowed softly around her. Her feet were bare, and her aging skin was only slightly wrinkled.

You could see tears rising in Dean’s eyes as he lowered his gun. “Mom?”

The woman smiled and stepped closer to him. “Dean.”

She walked toward you and her youngest son. “Sam.” Her smile faded. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked.

She looked at him sadly, but said nothing.

The woman turned to you last. “Thank you,” she said.

You smiled back at her, though you weren’t quite sure what she was thanking you for.

She turned away and looked up toward the ceiling. “You get out of my house. And let go of my son.” Her hair and nightgown were swept up into flames once more. The fire licked up to the ceiling, growing larger before disappearing entirely. You and Sam were released from the wall at once.

“Now it’s over,” Sam muttered.

***

The sun had risen while you and the boys were in the house. You called Missouri back to the Winchesters’ childhood home, and she sat on the porch talking with Sam.

You were standing with Dean by the car looking through his old family photos.

“Thanks for these,” Dean told Jenny.

“Don’t thank me, they’re yours.”

Dean put the trunk of photos and family memorabilia in the car. You and Dean bid Jenny, who thanked you, goodbye before leaning against the car together. The two of you knew you had a lot to talk about, but you weren’t brave enough to start the conversation.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked you.

You couldn’t look at him. “Why do you ask?”

“I think you know.”

You paused a moment before turning to face him. “I promise I’ll tell you, just… not today.” You stuck out your pinkie for him to take.

He chuckled at you. “What are we, five?”

“Just do it, asshole,” you smiled back.

He linked his pinkie with yours, shaking your hand back and forth lightly. The two of you stood there for a second, staring at each other and getting lost in the moment. Before long, you both realized what was going on and jerked away from each other.

Dean scratched his head. “Sam, you ready?” he called.

Sam nodded and came over to the car.

“Don’t you kids be strangers,” Missouri told you.

“We won’t,” Dean responded.

“See you around,” the woman winked at you.

You smiled at her before getting in the car and driving away.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @thepocketverse @simpingdeadcharacters @elqsiian @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @doublecrazyyymofo

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

151 notes · View notes

justmystyles · 3 months

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Series

Now You're In My Life

summary: a chance meeting at a diner turns your world upside-down and leads you on a whirlwind romance with one of the biggest pop stars in the world.

(More Than) One Shots

(One shots that got away from me, but aren't quite a series.)

Lost (2 Parts) Lose You to Love Me A run-in with your childhood sweetheart brings up old memories, and lingering feelings. Lost and Found You and Harry reconnected a month ago, and he insisted you come along for the final show. when your emotions start to get the better of you, you wonder if you and Harry could ever really just be friends.

End of the Road (2 Parts) Home Stretch As the tour comes to an end, the schedule starts to visibly take its toll on Harry, and you can't help but worry. Crossing the Finish Line It's the final show and Harry charms you into making good on a promise you made last time you were together.

Big Winners (3 Parts) Harry and Y/N have been friends for fifteen years, they finally work together on an album, and it leads them to a night that will change everything for them. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

One Shots

All I Ask*

You're finally starting to get over Harry, what happens when fate brings you back together?

Having Your Baby

You get some life changing news, and come up with the perfect way to tell your husband.

Wallflower

You're sitting alone at a wedding, can a handsome stranger help you come out of your shell?

Line of Fire

You and Harry have been keeping your relationship off the radar, but his concern for you overwhelms his need for privacy.

Coming Home To You*

Harry comes home early and catches you by surprise in the best way possible.

Scars

Can Harry be the comfort you need after falling back into old habits?

Ooh La La

After a revelation on movie night, you and Harry decide to reenact one of the scenes.

Love Don’t Cost A Thing

Harry loves to spoil you, but you're having a hard time adjusting to his lavish lifestyle.

The Battle in Barcelona

A crazy crowd at the airport comes between you and Harry.

Misplaced Emotion

As Harry prepares to jump back into the spotlight, he has a hard time re-adjusting to public life, and it manifests in the wrong way.

Good News All Around

You reach a big milestone in your life, but feel overshadowed when you call to tell Harry about it.

Perfect Harmony

You're in the final days of the tour, and Harry makes a suggestion that ends up changing everything.

Lights, Camera, Action

What was supposed to be just another job becomes the start of something new.

Business or Pleasure?

You return to Love on Tour after an extended break, but after your last interaction, you come back to an awkward situation with Harry.

Reigning it In

You're about to participate in your first horse show, but the nerves overwhelm you. Harry finds you just in time.

Family Portrait

Harry has a couple of heartfelt surprises for you while you're visiting him on tour.

All or Nothing*

You find a new way to tease Harry during a tour visit, which leads to a new way to drive him crazy.

With this Ring

Harry takes his commitment to you to a new level.

Veiled Insecurities

Harry has some insecurities about your relationship, but instead of talking to you about them, they end up coming out in the wrong way.

Heart Song

As a former member of the Love on Tour band, and current girlfriend of Harry, he asks you to reprise your spot for the final show.

Road to Recovery

After reading some negative comments about yourself, you nearly spiral back into old habits. you try to keep it from Harry, but he finds out and confronts you about it.

A Work of Art

After procrastinating for a few weeks, you finally make moves to finish your assignment, but run into an unexpected road block.

He's Not Me

You introduce Harry to the guy you're seeing, and you see a side of him you've never seen before and are shocked by his reasoning.

Sharing is Caring

You can't find your favorite handbag, Harry assures you he doesn't have it, but you see some photos tell a different story

Cantaloupe

In this one shot/flash forward from the Now You're In My Life storyline, you and Harry recap the big news from your family's Thanksgiving dinner.

Like Riding a Bike

Despite being on break, Harry manages to find his way back onstage.

Fa La La La Freakout

You will be meeting Harry's family for the first time over the holidays, and you are desperate for them to like you.

The Morning After

The morning after Harry's 30th birthday, you're hungover and Harry reminds you of your drunken actions from the night before, leading to a conversation you never expected.

Baby-Baby-Baby

Harry meets his niece for the first time, the joy and excitement are quickly replaced with a whole new set of feelings when his best friend, Y/N joins him at the hospital.

Smoke & Mirrors

Harry asks you to move to London with him, but a new opportunity for him makes things a little more complicated than you'd both expect.

(*) - NSFW

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probably-writing-x · 1 year

Text

Curtains Closed

Summary:

Warnings: Heartbreaking angst I’m so sorry, cursing but I think that’s everything

Author’s Note: I am so sorry this is so sad fhskghs but i loved writing this request !! Please send me any more that you may be thinking of and I’ll do my best

The set is bustling by the time you get there, crew and cast dotted around everywhere all preparing to film and refilm scenes. This was the first time that you’d been able to make the visit, and yet Drew had been filming here for at least a month. It was a new film he was working on, but with you filming recently too, it felt like your paths just weren’t crossing.

“Hey (Y/N)!” One of the assistants smiles when she sees you, “His trailer is just over there.”

You thank her and turn in the direction of Drew’s trailer, where his character’s name is printed on a sheet of paper in the window. You knock and wait, almost nervously, for the door to open. You always felt nervous when you went weeks without seeing him properly, even a year into your relationship, that hadn’t changed.

It takes a few seconds before he comes to the door, swinging it open exaggeratively. His hair is messy and his top splashed with patches of water, a grin on his face.

“Hey baby!” Drew grins, though the moment stops quickly when he’s shot at with another spray of water, “You bitch!”

Your heart feels like it sinks for just a second, enough for you to notice. He hadn’t thought to kiss you when he saw you, not even reach out and wrap you in his arms.

“Sorry, sorry, come in,” He encourages, stepping out of the way for you to step through.

In the trailer, he’s joined by his costar, who you knew was called Emily. She was a beautiful girl, being a model before she’d become an actress, and she played his love interest in the film.

“Hey, you must be (Y/N) right?” Emily grins, holding a water gun in her hand that is still pointed at Drew.

“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you Emily.”

She doesn’t respond to you, instead squealing as Drew shoots her back, spraying her hair on either side of her face.

“So, how’s filming going?” You ask, sitting on the sofa across from Emily.

When Drew sits down, he takes the seat next to her.

“It’s good,” Drew nods, “We finished pretty early today, always easy doing scenes with Emily, you know?”

“Yeah, of course,” Emily grins, “We’re like a dream team on set.”

Your words seem to fail you, and you’re not sure why your chest feels so tight. This was stupid, right? They worked together, they were friends, it was good that Drew was working with someone that he got on well with. But that’s how it was when you two first got together, and part of you felt a sinking feeling that your instincts hadn’t failed you here.

“So where were you thinking of going tonight?” Drew asks, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table between the two couches.

You swallow the lump in your throat to respond but Emily cuts in quickly.

“Ooh why don’t you go to that Thai place we went to?” She suggests, and you’re sure that she has shuffled closer to Drew on the sofa.

“Yeah, we could do, it was so good,” Drew nods, “Me and Em went last week, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in my life.”

The lump is back in your throat, “Yeah, sure, whatever you fancy.”

~~~

That night, you and Drew decided to order food in instead of going out, after you’d told him that you didn’t feel well. He’d eaten three slices of your pizza when you told him that you couldn’t finish it. And he had believed you when you told him there was nothing else that was wrong.

You were both in the kitchen now, washing up the plates you’d used for your food.

“So, Emily seems nice,” You nod, dragging the kitchen towel over your plate.

“Yeah, she’s great, right?” Drew smiles, “We just have such a laugh on set, genuinely I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so much.”

You felt like you could cry in that moment, not just from that comment but from the way his eyes seemed so bright when he spoke about her, the way you felt like his eyes hadn’t been on yours as much as normal.

He hands you the last plate and shakes his hands off into the water, taking one side of the towel in your hands to dry his off.

“Hey,” He takes it out of your hands and sets it down, wrapping his arms around your waist, “It’s good to properly see you again.”

You force yourself to smile, setting a hand on his chest.

“I mean it, I feel like we’ve both been way too busy recently,” He nods, “It’s good for us to have days like this.”

You still can’t force your body to bring out any words, just looking at the boy in front of you like you’d never seen him before.

“Hey?” Drew dips his tall figure down to try and catch your eyes, “This is good, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” You smile and he kisses your cheek, releasing his arms from around you.

Your heart feels heavy and empty all at once, your mind running a thousand thoughts and thinking of nothing at all. When he walks off to disappear into the lounge, you feel like a part of you disappears with him.

~~~

That night, you both get ready for bed like you normally do. You brush your teeth together and he goes into the bedroom whilst you’re washing your face. It’s all the routine that you’re used to, and when you shut off the ensuite light, he’s already sat propped up against the headboard, scrolling through his phone. You’re still wearing one of his tops to bed, another piece of normality that it felt comforting to keep.

“Drew, can I ask you something?” You ask cautiously, hovering by the side of the bed like you’re worried about getting in.

“Sure, what is it?” He shuts off his phone screen and puts it on the bedside table.

“Do you think things are still the same between us when we don’t see each other as much? You know, like when we’re both so busy?”

You watch the way his face drops a little, “What are you talking about?”

“I mean… we’ve just both been so busy recently.”

“Yeah, and we make it work,” He continues, “We still text, we call, and it’s only been a few weeks, we’ve done worse.”

You drag a hand through your hair, pulling out one of the tangles to distract yourself, “I don’t-“

“What is this (Y/N)?” He shakes his head, “Is there something you need to tell me?”

“I just,” You take a deep breath, if you don’t say it now you never will, “I saw you with Emily today and I-“

“This is about Emily?” He sits up straighter, “Are you kidding?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you two went to dinner together?”

His words fail him and it’s like you can see the confidence crumble just a little, “I don’t-“

“Is it because you knew that it would look weird? For you two to just be going out together?” You continue, a new sense of confidence fuelling your words, “If you didn’t think it was weird, you would’ve told me. We talk everyday Drew. What excuse did you come out with?Or did you just hope that I wouldn’t ask?”

“I just told you I was going out with the cast, it was last Friday,” He admits, as if he’s just been caught in the act completely.

Your heart sinks, “So you lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie to you, I mean, it wasn’t like that,” He scrambles, standing up now so that both of you were on either side of the bed now, too much and too little space between you all at once, “I just knew how you’d think it looked, and we hadn’t seen each other in a couple of weeks, and you were busy with work, and I just didn’t want you to worry.”

“So I’m busy working, and you’re out on dates with a girl I hadn’t even met before?!”

“No, no, no, don’t be like that!” He seems more aggressive now, “It wasn’t a fucking date, okay? We’re friends.”

“Friends? Because she’s just so funny, and you’re fighting in your trailer, and you’re sat next to her, and you’re doing everything with her?”

“I’m sat next to her?” He half-laughs, “So you’re noting down where I sit now?”

“But it’s not just that, is it, Drew? I haven’t seen you in weeks and you didn’t even care! It could’ve been anyone walking through the door and you’d have had the same reaction! It’s like I was fucking interrupting!” You are waving your arms around as you speak, the way Drew knew you only did when you were getting angrier.

“You weren’t fucking interrupting,” He shakes his head, “But if you don’t trust me in that then maybe this is more of an issue than just Emily. What else, (Y/N)?”

You look at him there, his features darkened by the lack of light in your bedroom. He’s more toned than ever for this role, the muscles of his abs dipping in and out of his stomach and casting small shadows over his torso, his arms larger and his shoulders broader. If you looked for long enough, it felt like he was completely different. But his eyes were still yours, in the way they creased when you made him laugh, and the way his dimples hooked either side of his lips when he saw you happy. But this time it felt tainted, your mind overloading with thoughts of him giving the same eyes, the same smile, the same dimples to her.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Drew,” You whisper the words, uncertain of how they’ll sit in the air between you.

“What does that mean?” He shakes his head, the fury in him settling down into worry.

You’re silent, complete silence between the two of you.

“Let’s just go to bed, okay? We’re just tired,” Drew states, convincing himself along with you, “We’re not thinking straight, this isn’t us. Let’s just go to sleep, and we’ll wake up, and we’ll be fine, okay?”

You don’t reply.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice, okay?”

“Okay,” You croak out, your eyes threatening to spill unforgiving tears.

He takes a deep breath and gets back into bed, pulling down the sheets on your side. You follow suit, climbing in beside him and pulling the sheets high up over you as if a shield from the argument that still lingered in the air. Drew dips an arm beneath your back and pulls you into him, another piece of normality he seemed reluctant to give up. His body is warm but it feels too warm beneath your skin, burning into you just a little. His chest rises and falls but it’s not in the same rhythm, his heart slowing down as yours still felt like it was racing.

Eventually, you’re sure that he has fallen asleep, and you stay awake for far too much time after, your eyes staring at the closed curtains on the other side of the room, willing for the light to come through.

~~~

The following morning, you’re awake before he is, though you’re sure that you hadn’t had more than a couple of hours sleep the night before.

It’s cold in the apartment, like an air of the inevitable had settled over everything that the two of you had. When Drew wakes up, you’re sat with your feet and knees tucked up to you on the sofa, your hands around yourself.

“Morning,” He says, his voice still sleepy and thick, joggers hanging low on his hips, forcing the V-line of his torso to poke out.

You look up and offer him a small smile, the biggest that your lack of energy can muster.

“Did you sleep okay?”

He regrets the question almost as soon as it is said, as if he’d just asked you the worst thing possible in the moment. Instead, he walks over the short distance to you and sits down, close to you on the sofa like he wants to draw you into him.

“Listen, (Y/N),” He begins, “I know things aren’t ideal. We’re both busy, we’re working in different places, different hours, and it’s not going to end any time soon. But we can make this work, okay? We can change things. I’m going to tell you everything, I’m not going to lie to you, I’ll make sure I have more days off and I can come and visit you, and we can facetime more instead of just calling,” He pauses to take a breath, “We can fight for this (Y/N).”

“I don’t know how much longer I can just keep fighting, Drew,” Your voice is croaky, threatening to break.

“But this is us, baby, we can’t lose this,” He sits himself closer to you, though avoiding contact like he is afraid you’ll shatter in front of his eyes.

“Drew, listen,” You let yourself breathe for a moment, “This has worked for us, it has. We’ve always made it work. But, right now, it doesn’t feel like that anymore. We’re in different places, and this time it was only weeks, next time it might be a couple of months. You’ll go on press for the film, I’ll be here. I don’t know how much we can keep doing that.”

“We can try, can’t we?”

“I’ve never seen you with anyone and felt the way I did yesterday, I saw you with Emily and I felt like a completely different person, like I was this jealous and overthinking version of myself, and I don’t want to be that. I don’t want to see you after weeks and just argue with you,” You’re speaking through tears that you are fighting back, “This isn’t us, you said it last night. But if we stay together now, this is what we’re going to be, and I don’t want you to be someone I end up hating.”

Drew’s silent, staring at you like he’s hoping he’ll wake up from a nightmare.

“So I think we need to break up,” You choke through the words, though they feel cold as they leave your lips.

“(Y/N) please,” He whispers, tears spilling over his eyelashes.

“I can’t fight for this anymore Drew,” You shake your head and your tears fall too now, staining your cheeks as they do.

He moves forward and grips your hands, pulling them into the middle of his larger palms and bringing them to his lips. You drop your head forward and press your forehead to his. His tears drop down and mix with yours over your tangle of hands, neither of you wanting to move as if moving would solidify what had just been finalised already.

“I’m never not going to love you, (Y/N).”

You nod against his chest, “Then you’ll go, and I’ll stay, and we’ll find our way back.”

(((Adding a normal people reference so that you don’t all hate me for breaking your hearts xoxo)))

#Drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey drabble #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #outerbanks #outerbanks imagine #outerbanks one shot #outerbanks drabble #outerbanks blurb #drew starkey angst #outerbanks angst #drew starkey request #Outerbanks request #Requests

648 notes · View notes

cowpokeomens · 6 months

Text

Blood Pact

It's me, your favorite monster fucker! Here's another part of my Nocturnal Creatures series, in which you strike a deal with a demon- who goes by Nicholas. Sexy things ensue.

Warnings: Disgusting nasty filthy p-in-v, cunnilingus, lots of mentions of virginity (it's a social construct, but if you got it, flaunt it), Nicholas Ruffilo's monster cock (canon), if you feel I need to add anything PLEASE send me a message! Otherwise, enjoy!

________________________________________________________

You still couldn’t believe you were doing this.

Yet, here you stood, at a crossroads in your hometown. Not just the metaphorical kind, either- an actual, physical crossroads. Mason Avenue and Fisher Street, to be exact.

Right next to the city cemetery, from which you stole a jar’s worth of dirt.

It sat in your bag, next to some kind of flowering plant you hoped would work, a cat bone (thank goodness for veterinarian friends?), and a picture of yourself, one of the headshots your manager had insisted would help you blow up on TikTok.

It hadn’t.

You threw everything into a cardboard box, using your shiny, new shovel from the local feed supply store to dig a hole in the center of the dusty dirty roads. The ground was harder than you expected, so your two-foot deep hole had you sweating by the time it was formed. You all but threw the box into the hole, quickly covering it up with loose dirt, and taking a few steps back. Pulling out your phone, you consulted the symbol you saved from a website earlier that week, spray paint in hand. All the stupid Wal-Mart had left was “Cerise Fluorescent,” so you hoped whatever you summoned liked pink.

Carefully, you sprayed the lines onto the dirt, over where you buried your box. You tried to move quickly, but precisely; Getting caught was almost as terrifying as doing it wrong.

Finally, it was done. You scrolled over on your phone, to the Latin text you hadn’t even dared to read in your head. Stepping away from the circle, you read it aloud now. You could feel your heart about to beat out of your chest, and you wondered one last time if this was worth it.

“Your Latin sucks.” A voice said suddenly.

You jumped, yelping, and fell directly on your ass.

You were scrambling back when the voice spoke again.

“Is this a Goetia sigil? In pink? The guys are going to get a kick out of this-”

You stood up shakily, dusting off your pants in the process. You finally saw the source of the voice: Standing in the center of your sigil was the most devastatingly handsome man you had ever seen.

Long, dark hair; his skin was lightly tanned and healthy-looking. Eyes the color of clouds, that seemed to shift from green to blue to grey before you. He was taller than you, tattoos visible on both hands, and dressed simply: A hoodie, dark jeans, and…

Were those Converse?

You were immediately overcome with confusion. “Um, who are you?”

He fixed those eyes directly on you. “I think that’s my line, doll.”

Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline. “You’re Amdusias?”

He winced. “Yikes, with the Scary-Latin-Demon-Name. You can call me Nicholas.”

You frowned. “You don’t seem like…”

“Like a great duke of Hell?” He finished your thought. “Yeah, only angels really like to make a dramatic entrance, that’s why they’ve been banned to stay behind the pearly bars. Too many eyes, too much fire-”

“You’re wearing sneakers?” You said without thought.

He looked offended. “Did you expect me to crawl out of Hell in loafers?”

You scrambled for an answer. “Well, no, but I-”

“TV is rotting your mind. What do you want?” He cut you off.

You felt the color leaving your face. “Well, um, I read that you were responsible for the music in Hell-”

“‘Music’ is a big word, but sure.” He interrupted.

Giving him a look, you continued. “Well, I’m a musician, too! Only…” You trailed off with a frown.

He mocked you with a faux-wince. “Ooh, not triple platinum yet, huh?”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to hide your disappointment. Shaking your head, your gaze met his again. “That’s where you come in.”

An eyebrow cocked at you. “Think that because you snagged a demon, you get to be famous?”

You shook your head hastily. “No, not at all! I did a lot of research-” You Googled for 30 minutes- “So I don’t get to demand things without a trade, right?”

He smiled at you lazily. “Yep. So what will it be, your soul? First born? I love a first born, with a little bit of butter, some rosemary and-”

“I’m a virgin.” You blurted.

He froze, then his entire demeanor changed. For the first time that night, you felt genuine fear as the air around you went still. “Oh yeah?”

Your mouth gaped like a fish, so you settled on a nod.

He took a tiny step towards you. You were rooted on the spot, frozen like a deer in headlights. This was a bad idea.

Finally, you found your words. “My virginity. For- whatever it is you do. Fame, fortune, I don’t really care, I just want people to hear my music, connect with it-”

“Yeah, yeah, real noble of you.” He snorted, then composed himself. For a second, he almost looked concerned. “You sure about this, doll?”

You nodded, trying to look confident. “Yeah. But- make it organic, y’know, the fame part. I don’t want to look like an industry plant-”

He rolled his eyes, walking closer so that he was directly in front of you. You gaped at his proximity. “You can leave the circle?”

Laughing, he nodded. “I could have left at any point, but you’re pretty-” He leaned in so that he was whispering in your ear, “-For a pathetic little human.”

Your cheeks went hot. You knew it was just to rile you up, make this worse than it already was. At least, you figured, your virginity meant something to someone- it certainly held no value for you. A demon was less than desirable, but he was nice to look at-

Woah. Not going there, you told yourself sternly.

Shaking off the feeling, you held out your hand. “Okay, so deal-”

“Uh, no.” He cut you off, again. “I have my own terms and conditions.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

A smirk grew on his face. “My terms. For our arrangement.”

You tried not to let anger well up inside you. “And what would those terms be?” You asked through gritted teeth.

“You come to me.” He said plainly. Confusion must have been evident on your face, because he continued, “I’m not some monster in the night who’s going to show up for your virginity. When the time is right, you’ll come to me.”

“You’re not going to just… Take it?” The question slowly left your mouth.

He grimaced, an ugly look for such a pretty face. “Ew, no. I’m a demon, not a wild animal. Besides,” he cocked his head to the side, looking directly into you. “Virginity tastes better when it comes willingly.”

Gulping despite yourself, you managed a nod. “Okay. Fine. I’ll come willingly.” As if.

Holding out an inked hand, he grinned at you. “Then it’s a deal.”

Taking a deep breath, you took his hand in yours, shaking once. “Deal.”

_________________________________________________________

Six Months Later

You awoke in a cold sweat, the third time that week. Flicking the bedside lamp on, you walked over to the mini-fridge of your hotel room, grabbing a bottle of water. You were uncomfortably wet- again, and not from sweating. It seemed like every time you tried to rest, you were met by stormy eyes where sleep should have greeted you. You chugged the water, making your way to the restroom for a much-needed shower.

That night’s show had been sold out- the 13th sold out show of your highly anticipated debut tour. Nicholas had held up his end of the bargain; Your album was projected to sell close to a million units by the end of the year. And you had seen neither hide nor hair of him.

Well. Not in the flesh, anyways.

As you started the shower, your mind wandered. You knew it was him, sending you these dreams through his weird demon dream channels or whatever. Even as your body betrayed you, you knew it was not your own thoughts causing such a commotion.

Still, as you slipped in the shower to wash off the day’s grime, you felt your hand slip lower, between your folds to collect the wetness there. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you circled your bundle of nerves, moaning quietly. Despite your best efforts, your thoughts drifted back to long, dark hair and tattooed hands on your body. Your hand moved quicker, moans growing louder as you felt yourself getting closer to climax. You were on the precipice when a familiar voice made you freeze.

“I knew you’d be loud.”

Yelping, you jumped nearly a foot in the air, almost falling in your panic. Yanking your towel off the rack, you wrapped yourself as quickly as possible as you threw open the shower curtain.

Nicholas was sitting criss-cross on the expansive bathroom counter, picking at something under his nails.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You snapped.

“You summoned me, duh.” He said, rolling his eyes at you.

“Yeah, six months ago. I thought I was supposed to come to you.”

He looked at you then, eyes dragging over your poorly-concealed form. His eyes glinted, looking hungry. “Moaning the name of a demon you promised your virginity to while you rub one out in the shower is a summoning if I’ve ever seen one. Besides,” He looked into your eyes, smirking devilishly. “You were about to come to me, from the sound of it.”

Your face was on fire with embarrassment. “I was not moaning your name.”

He cocked a brow at you. “Uh, you were. Loudly.”

Rage bubbled up inside you. “I was not!” The words spilled from you now. “I wouldn’t have even been doing that if you hadn’t been sending me all of your weird demonic sex dreams constantly!”

An unnamed emotion flashed across his face, then he grinned. “‘Weird demonic sex dreams,’ huh?”

You huffed at him “Oh, don’t even play coy. Like being dragged back to Hell and tied up by some hot shot demon was my big idea.”

The smile he was giving you was sinister. “Right, right. What else have I sent your way?”

You faltered, unsure of what he was playing at. “Like you don’t know.”

He shrugged. “I don’t. I haven’t ‘sent you’ shit.” He mimed quotations with his hands.

Your blood went cold. Suddenly, the bathroom was too small. “You’re lying.” Your voice sounded feeble, even to you.

He shook his head, standing up. Slowly he stepped towards you. “I’m not.”

“But then- that would mean-” Stammering, you stood there helplessly as he crept closer.

Nodding, he leaned in even closer. “That was all you, doll.” He brushed a stray lock of hair off your shoulder. “What a dirty mind the little human virgin has. You mentioned being tied up- what else did I do to defile you, huh?”

He was too close, it almost made you dizzy. He smelled like smoke and rain and earth all at once. “Shut up.” You mumbled weakly.

He stepped back, finally. “Well, you know how to find me.”

There was a crack like lightning, then he was gone.

You stood there for a few minutes, trying to regain your composure. This was fine, you reasoned. He left. He kept his word. Everything was fine.

______________________________________________________

Three Months Later

Once again, you couldn’t believe you were doing this.

Sitting on the edge of the bed in your master bedroom, you gazed out the windows overlooking the city below. You remembered when you first bought the condo- loved how open and light it was. In the deepness of the night surrounding you, the lights looked like tiny fires dancing in the dark.

Taking a deep breath, you laid down on your pillows, trying to relax your body. Running a hand over the t-shirt on your abdomen, up to your breasts, you felt your breathing start to slow. Your nipples were quick to perk up at the stimulation, so you pinched one experimentally, almost moaning out at the sensation.

Your nerves were on fire these days. The slightest brush against your skin made you feverish. You tried everything, from quitting cold turkey to bringing yourself to climax three or four times a day. Nothing was working.

So maybe this would.

You snaked your hand lower, falling into familiar routine. You had come to know your body well the last three months, knew exactly where to rub, where to pinch. As you toyed with your folds through your underwear, you imagined a different set of hands, larger and covered in ink. Unlike the other times, you allowed your fantasy to overtake you, gave yourself to it willingly.

“Nicholas.” You breathed, back arching ever so slightly.

There was a slight breeze, then a quiet gasp.

“Quite the show you’re putting on, doll. I suppose you didn’t say my name this time, either?”

You pulled your hand away from your core, scrambling to stand up. “No, I- I did.”

Nicholas’ face looked shocked for a millisecond, then an eyebrow was raised at you. “Oh?”

“I’m… I’m ready.” It didn’t sound convincing.

He scoffed. “Yeah, no thanks. Like I said, I’m not interested in forcing anyone-”

“Goddamnit, shut up.” You snapped. “I said I’m ready, okay? You said to come to you, so here I am. Unless you never planned on following through with it.” It was dangerous to goad him, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

His eyes were pitch black in an instant, staring you down. “Don’t joke about a demon’s word, doll. You’re not ready for that fight.”

Your hands shook, but you felt-

Mortification overcame you as you realized just what you felt.

Those dark eyes narrowed in on the single bead of slick that was rolling steadily down your leg. Cloud-grey eyes returned as realization dawned on him.

“You want me to debase you.” He took a step towards you as his words filled the room. “You want me to tie you up and have my way with you. Isn’t that right?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to admit the truth, but it was evident.

He inhaled deeply, taking another step towards you. His eyes fluttered shut as he exhaled slowly. “You smell ripe. You want this so badly, poor thing- you just can’t admit it to yourself.”

You pressed your legs together, trying to maintain some kind of decency.

He was in front of you now, close enough to touch if you were braver. “Beg for it. Beg, and I’ll give you anything you want, doll.”

Chest heaving with labored breaths, you gave in. “Please.” You whispered.

His hand- the hands you had been dreaming about for nine months- came up to grip your jaw. “I said beg.”

You crumbled. “Please, Nicholas, please, I’ll be so good-”

His grin was minatory as he brought his lips down to yours.

Your relief was immediate as you sagged into him, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to support you. He walked you backwards toward the bed, still kissing you furiously.

“How wet are you already, doll? I bet your little cunt is just soaked.” Breaking the kiss, he picked you up and set you on the bed, lowering himself onto his knees in front of you. “Tell me what you want.”

You panted, unable to form a sentence for a moment. “I don’t- I don’t know.”

He made a tsk-tsk sound with his tongue against his teeth. “Right, you’re just a helpless little virgin who hasn’t spent the last 9 months having vivid dreams about me fucking her.” He looked up at you through his lashes. “Tell me what you dreamed about.”

“Your hands.” You heard yourself say immediately.

He smirked again. “Oh yeah? What were my hands doing?”

You knew your face was crimson. “They… They were touching me.”

“Where?” The look he was giving you was too intense for you to maintain more than a few seconds.

“Um-” You hesitated.

“You can say it.” He urged, leaning in.

“My… my pussy.” You finished, staring at the ground.

“Do you want me to play with your pussy now?” He was still staring at you.

“Please.” You breathed, anticipation making your entire body tense.

“Good girl, so polite.” As you shivered at the praise, his eyes made their way down your body, to where your core was at eye-level for him. “If you want to stop, say so, is that clear?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Something dark flashed in his face, then he said, “Good girl.”

His hand came up to run a single digit along your slit, through your underwear. You shook involuntarily at the contact.

“Oh doll, you’re starved, aren’t you?” He murmured, almost to himself. “Let’s get these ruined panties off of you.”

You went to shift your weight so that you could shimmy the garment off, only to freeze as Nicholas tore through it like a piece of paper.

He didn’t even look apologetic. “Hope you didn’t like those too much.”

You didn’t have time to consider it as you realized your cunt was fully visible to him now, slick with your own juices.

He sighed as he stared at your core. “Women are the best thing that bastard ever accomplished.” Then he looked up at you. “I’m gonna use my mouth, that okay, doll?”

“Yes, sir.” Your voice was hoarse from disuse. You felt like you were vibrating in your skin.

He leaned in slowly, as if to not startle you, before running his tongue from your hole to your clit.

The moan you let out was guttural and animalistic.

“There it is.” He said quietly, before diving back into you.

Your head fell back onto the mattress as he lapped at your clit, tongue occasionally diving into your hole. Tears welled up in your eyes at the relief it brought, like jumping into a pool on a hot summer day. Your hands tangled in his long tresses, and he moaned against your pussy. Your hips were bucking into him involuntarily, your orgasm so close you could practically taste it. “Nicholas, I’m gonna- I’m so close-” You practically sobbed.

“Shh, I know, doll. Let it happen.” He said soothingly before going back to his ministrations. You came with a primal moan, back arching off of your sheets.

You were still panting when he stood up, surveying you. “All better?”

“Fuck me.” You demanded.

His expression went stoney. He leaned over until you were caged in by his arms on either side of you. “I don’t fuck demanding brats.”

You lost all your bravado. “Please?”

He sighed softly, but not sincerely. “How bad do you want it?”

You could have cried. “Please, I’m sorry Nicholas, I’ll be good, please fuck me- you don’t know how bad I need it-”

“I just had your greedy little unused hole grinding against my tonsils.” He sneered. “I know exactly how bad you need it.”

Your face went hot at the profane nature of his words- but he was right. He saw firsthand how bad you needed this. “Please.” Was all you said.

“Well, I guess since you’re asking so nicely.” He mocked as he stepped back, unbuckling his pants as he went. He slid off the trousers, his erection visible through his briefs. You suddenly felt nervous, looking at the size of him.

He stopped, seeing your expression. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just- is it gonna fit?”

He pulled the briefs down at last, finally freeing his cock. It was big- even by supernatural proportions. The tip was an angry shade of red, veins pulsating on the shaft. He huffed a laugh at your face, pulling his shirt off, too. “I bet we can find room.”

Your eyes devoured the tattoos that covered him, tracing the planes of his body as you went. You almost didn’t notice him slinking over to you, crawling onto the mattress in one, fluid motion, landing on top of you.

“I’m gonna touch you again, okay?” He looked at you expectantly.

You nodded. “Okay.”

He leaned down to kiss you again, tongue sliding against yours. You whimpered when his fingers were back on your pussy, running along the folds. As you adjusted to his touch, two fingers slipped inside your hole.

“Fuck you’re still so wet,” He muttered, rocking his fingers back and forth inside you. You gasped at the sensation, his fingers so much larger than your own. Moving his mouth down to your neck, he began scissoring his fingers, stretching you out- a preparation you were thankful for.

You felt your second orgasm approaching as he continued his movements, moans growing higher pitched. “Nicholas, I-”

“Think you can hold on?” He asked. It was a genuine question, you knew whatever answer you gave would be correct.

You considered it for a second. “Yeah, I can- I can wait.” Your legs were still beginning to tremble, though.

He placed a kiss on your temple, pulling his fingers out. “I’ll go slow, but we can stop if you want to.”

You nodded an affirmative. He stared at you blankly, and you remembered yourself. “Yes, sir.” He tapped your nose, a gesture that was oddly sweet, as he said “Good girl.”

You felt him line up with your entrance, the tip slowly sliding in. It was still a stretch- but you found that you liked it, liked the feeling of being filled up. He went slowly, thrusting shallowly, each time going a little deeper. You could hear the noises you were making, but couldn’t stop yourself from making them. He paused three-fourths of the way in.

“Doing okay?”

“Yes Nicholas, please don’t stop.” Came your gargled reply.

He smirked, thrusting a few more times until he was fully sheathed in you.

Your back arched clear off the bed as he bottomed out, his tip nestled against something inside you that made you feel feral.

“Like that, doll?” You could hear how smug he was.

“Please, Nicholas, please-” You whined.

“I know, pretty, I’ll give you what you need.” His hands tightened their grip on your waist as he pulled out and slid back in quickly. You let out another carnal wail, your hands coming around to grab at his shoulders. He pulled out again, slamming into you, continuing on until you felt like a puddle on the bed.

“So wet and tight for me, such a good girl.” He grunted as he fucked into you. You nodded pitifully, not sure why, lost in the pleasure. Over and over again he slid against that sweet spot inside you, making you feel like you were on fire. Your orgasm soon approached you like a freight train.

“Nicholas please, I need- I need to come-” You stammered, close to sobbing.

“I know, it’s so much, I know, you can come, doll.” His words opened a dam as your orgasm overcame you in a powerful wave, making you all but scream as he fucked you through it.

He pulled out shortly after, jerking himself to completion on your stomach. You were gasping for air, legs quivering with the aftershocks of your orgasm as hot ropes of come covered you.

You felt disgusting, in the most delicious way possible.

Nicholas disappeared around the corner, returning with a rag to clean you up. He had used hot water, you noted, so it was warm to the touch.

“So that’s a deal?” You asked when he had finished cleaning you.

He looked sad, but the expression was quickly gone. “I suppose it is.”

He set the rag on your bedside table, already going to collect his clothing.

“I have a question, before you disappear again.” You called over his shoulder.

“And what is your question?” He turned around to face you as he pulled on his briefs.

“If I wanted a Grammy,” You began, cocking your head to the side. “What would your rates be for that?”

He gave you a grin, understanding your implication immediately as he dropped his pants back onto the floor.

“I’d be open to negotiation of terms.” He murmured as he made his way back over to the bed, lips slotting against yours once more.

#nicholas ruffilo rpf #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens x reader #bad omens smut #nicholas ruffilo fic #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo x reader #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo smut #nocturnal creatures

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andreafmn · 2 years

Text

Speak - Chapter 4

Word Count: 3K

Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf.

Chapter: 4/?

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to @yuki254 @purplegardenwhispers and @zheezs14 for answering my last post. It's a bit heartbreaking but I rather do like angst and hurt/no comfort 😅 Paul will get his happy ending some day.

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Chapter 4

It was one thing to hear about the imprint bond and how strong it could be, but it was another to experience it. Hot-headed Paul always thought himself too good to have the universe choose who would be eternally connected to him through a supernatural bond – he’d simply choose who he’d spend the rest of his life with. It was his life and he would decide what to do with it.

It never crossed his mind that he’d see his imprint so soon, or that it would be the sister of a bloodsucker sympathizer.

That night he had been with the pack, like every night before, enjoying another bonfire in celebration of the departure of the Cullens. The only difference was that there was Christmas food and decoration. Other than that, it was a normal night.

Then, from afar, he picked up Jacob Black’s scent as well as an intriguing mysterious one. He could smell her, hear her, but he did not turn to look at her. Not yet. Jared and Paul remained throwing a football back and forth, ignoring the newcomer.

But it didn’t last long.

As he ran around the sand, laughing with his friends, he could feel eyes burning into his back. He did not want to give in to temptation. He did not want to turn his head.

Alas, he did.

The feeling was instant, and he recognized it immediately. As their gazes connected, he felt the way everything shifted. Every atom that made up his being screamed to get closer to her, every cell in his body yearned for her warmth, there was nothing in his body that was not calling for her. He understood what Sam had told him. The whole gravitational pull spiel and the priority shift, he understood. As much as he wanted to break their stare, he simply couldn’t. He wanted to stare into her eyes for eternity.

Jacob noticed that, and Paul could smell the jealousy from where he stood. She, (Y/N) he heard, was asking about him and Jake didn’t like it. Still, he had something over Paul. He was already close to her.

“It happened, didn’t it?” Jared questioned his friend with a knowing grin on his face. “Can’t believe it’s (Y/N) Swan. I mean, the sister of a vampire lover. That’s hilarious!”

“Shut up, Jared.”

“Ooh, and look at Jake,” he continued. “He’s got his arm on your girl. What’re you gonna do about it?”

“She’s not my girl,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “And there’s nothing I can do. I don’t even know her. So, leave it alone.”

“Now, look, they’re leaving. Together,” Jared continued to tease, though everyone could tell Paul’s wick was burning short. “Can’t believe Jacob Black is stealing your girl.”

“SHE’S NOT MY GIRL!” Paul finally exploded before he sauntered off.

“Let him go,” Sam whispered to Jared. “He just needs some time to cool off.”

Paul had no idea where he was going, but his legs were taking him further and further from the beach. The smell of ash and the ocean were soon replaced with the smell of the pine trees that surrounded him. And suddenly, the smell of car oil hit his nose.

Somehow, he had made his way to the Black residence, and he heard that sweet sound he had just witnessed a mere two hours before. But the words that were coming out of her mouth only worked to infuriate him.

“If you’re gonna do something, Jake,” (Y/N) teased. “Then do it.”

The wolf saw from far away how Jacob leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Paul could see as the other boy devoured (Y/N) like he was claiming her as his. And as he saw their hands roam, he couldn’t help the anger and jealousy that was bubbling under the surface. He wanted to walk up to them and rip the boy off her, but he knew that it would be absolutely psychotic. She didn’t know him and that would not be the right first impression.

He couldn’t stop the rippling he felt in his body. The anger only grew as he stared at the scene unfolding. He had no right to feel this way, but he couldn’t help it. Paul ran into the shadow of the woods letting his body transform into what it wanted. His body ripped as he allowed the shift to take over him.

Paul wanted to feel something other than anger. He wanted to feel the cold air of autumn nip at his lungs, the wind prickling at his eyes, the burn of exhaustion in his legs. He wanted to feel everything – anything but the call to her.

Sam had told them how the imprint bond felt. That those days he spent apart from Emily had torn his heart into two, always searching for its missing piece. He said it was an imaginable pain, and it simply got worse when she asked him to stay away and hurt her. Paul had always thought that he was stronger than any supernatural bong, but as he felt the ache in his chest, he knew this type of pain was not meant to be survivable.

So, he ran.

He ran until his legs felt almost numb, until his lungs were screaming at the cold air they were taking in, until the trees around him were simply a blur in his eyes. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be tied to another person, at least not like this. Paul always thought his love life was something he’d at least be able to control. Just that little aspect of his life he wanted to be able to make a choice for himself.

Paul ignored the calls from the other pack members, emptying his mind of any thoughts. Still, (Y/N) Swan still managed to sneak her way into his head. He could see her (Y/H/C) hair flowing in the wind, her curious (Y/E/C) eyes staring back at him, and her nose turning red in the cold weather of December. He could remember her scent, a sweet mix of almond vanilla with the signature pine smell of Forks.

Everything inside him was telling him to turn around. To go to her and explain everything, bringing her into the nonsensical world of vampires and werewolves and all in between. He wanted to simply feel her warmth close to him – he’d be satisfied with just that little. But he wouldn’t allow himself to. He kept running until he collapsed from exhaustion.

When his eyes fluttered open, morning had come and his body had turned back to human form. Beside him neatly folded clothes were placed and he knew Jared had found his wolf at some point last night. Paul didn’t feel like talking about what happened. He was sure they both already knew.

He couldn’t fathom the power (Y/N) already had over him. She had overtaken every thought in his head. Even if he only knew her name and what she looked like, he missed her.

As he dressed, an angry scowl had cemented itself on his face. Paul did not want the control the imprint bond brought. If he was going to be tied to someone, it was because he chose to, not because of a supernatural link. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.

Once more, his legs were taking him somewhere and he failed to know where. That was until his fist was knocking against the front door of the Black residence. Before his head had caught up to what he was doing, the white door was opening.

“Paul?” Jacob questioned. “What are you doing here?”

And he wasn’t completely sure, but apparently, his voice was. “You need to stay away from (Y/N),” he stated with unwarranted confidence — and maybe a tinge of anger.

“And why exactly is that? Last time I checked, she’s nothing to you.”

“Look, man, it’s a complicated thing. But just stay away from her,” he grumbled. “She deserves better than you.”

“And, what, that’s you?” Jacob scoffed. There was an offense to his tone. Who was Paul to come to his house and say he wasn’t man enough for (Y/N)? “You don’t even know her, Paul.”

“Jacob, you really don’t wanna cross me. So do yourself a favor and keep your distance. Got that?”

“Let me tell you how this is gonna go, Pauly,” Jake teased. “I’m gonna ask (Y/N) to be my girlfriend; she’s gonna say yes; and you’re gonna be in that weird gang with Jared and Sam, far from us. You got that?”

Paul found himself breathing heavily once again in front of the red barn house. Jacob had the upper hand here. He was close friends with (Y/N) and her sister. He knew their father. And he could tell that (Y/N) liked him. Even if he kept telling himself that he didn’t care for the link, every fiber inside him was already getting overprotective over her.

“Anything else?” At Paul’s lack of response, a cocky smile grew on Jake’s face. “Well, thanks for coming by. I’m actually getting ready to go see (Y/N) soon.”

Anger shook within Paul’s body as the door closed on his face. He could feel the wolf wanting to jump out and wreak havoc on the house, but no one really was to blame. He was no one to (Y/N), and he would continue to be no one if he didn’t do something about it. Still, all he could see now was red.

Jacob had known just the right words to send him into a spiral. He knew that Paul had no ground to stand on. (Y/N) knew nothing of him or why he wanted to be close to her. And he wasn’t thinking of changing that too soon.

“Let’s take a walk, Paul,” Sam’s voice boomed from behind the shaking boy. “You need to calm down.”

The pair walked in silence at first. With Paul practicing breathing techniques to calm himself down, and Sam was simply quiet. Even the world around them had seemed to quiet down. The soft whistling of the wind, the chirp of the birds, and the rustling of the trees had all died down.

“So, what do you wanna do?” Sam started.

“About?”

“We all know that you imprinted on the younger Swan last night, Paul. Maybe we should start there?”

Paul could only sigh. He knew exactly what the conversation would be about, but he simply didn’t want to face it. “There’s nothing for me to do,” Paul stated. “She’s with Jake. That’s that.”

“You know both of you will find it hard to resist the pull. As every day passes it’ll get harder and harder to stay away,” the older shifter explained. “There will come a point where you will have no other choice than to tell her everything that is happening — from who we are to why we are this way. You can try to avoid it for as long as you can, but sooner or later it will become unbearable.”

“I don’t see the point,” he chuckled dryly. “Why would I bring an innocent person into this world if she doesn’t need to be? You’ve told us we become whatever our imprint needs from us. She needs me to stay away.”

“That’s not for you to decide, Paul, and you know it. She needs to decide that for herself.”

“Well, it’s not like you can force me to tell her anything. This is my decision.”

“What’s gonna happen when she keeps coming here?” Sam retorted. “What’re you gonna do when she finds herself looking for you for answers? Are you gonna keep pushing her away?”

“If it’s what’s best for her, then yes.”

“Paul..”

“Look, Sam, I understand that you wanna help. But I didn’t t ask for this. I don’t want this,” Paul exclaimed. “(Y/N) Swan is complicated, and my life is complicated enough as it is. I made my decision. And that’s that. Now, can we just drop this?”

“Alright, Paul. But if you ever change your mind, know that you can always talk to me about it.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Paul didn’t want to change his mind. That much he knew at that point. But with his thoughts consumed by the image of her, he didn’t know how long that would last.

There was an independence he was used to. Paul had never been tied down by anything or anyone. He’d come from a broken home, where nothing lasted forever. Not even love. He’d known of heartache from a young age and it was something he knew he did not want to experience again. Least of all because his supernatural genes decided it to be so.

As he lay in bed that night, he remembered her on the beach. Her beautiful (Y/E/C) eyes gleamed under the moonlight, her pale skin warmed by the shine of the fire, her (Y/H/C) hair blowing in the wind of the night. She had been a vision to him. The most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Beautiful and untouchable.

Drifting to sleep, (Y/N) Swan was the last thing omg his mind. And suddenly, everything shifted.

He was standing in a clearing, looking over a still river. He was dressed in white linen shorts and his feet and chest were bare. Paul breathed in the fresh air, listened to the low hum of the wind and the babbling of the brook, and felt the tickling of the grass on his feet. The sun felt warm against his skin, warmer than his body temperature, beckoning a smile to his face.

And Paul wasn’t by himself either.

“You look beautiful, darling,” he told her. “Absolutely radiant.”

“Thank you, Paul. And you look as handsome as ever,” (Y/N) giggled. “Come here.”

He walked slowly to her, a playful grin propped on his face. His arms circled her waist and wrapped her in a tight hug, lifting her from the ground and spinning her around. As he slid her back to the ground, he placed a hand on her cheek, his thumb running through her cheek. (Y/N) closed her eyes and enjoyed the touch, his warmth feeling better than the one the sun provided.

He felt different than his usual self with her. The fire that normally burned inside him and made him feel like a ticking bomb wasted away. She made him feel calm, grounded. There was a homely feeling to having her in his arms. Like he had found a missing piece. She fit perfectly between his arms, like she was made to be there.

(Y/N) allowed him to pull her toward the water, sinking into the comfortable river. She gave him a smile and shrieked happily as the coldness seeped through her bones. Her white dress quickly soaked and his shorts darkened.

“This water is freezing, Paul,” she whispered to him. He kept her close, his arms wrapped around her. “Don’t you dare let go.”

“I would never, beautiful,” he grinned. Paul was close to her, so close he could see his breath moving the water droplets on her face. “I’ve got you now, and I’m never planning on letting you go.”

“Is that a threat?” she joked, copying the smile on his face.

“It’s a promise, darling,” Paul said. “It’s a promise.”

He closed the space between them and pressed their lips together. (Y/N) felt sparks running through her body, the feeling of belonging washing over her. This is where she was meant to be. He was who she was meant to be with.

There was a feeling rippling inside him that he’d never felt before. Sure he had a couple of girlfriends, and some flings here and there. But never this feeling. This sentiment was foreign and it took over his whole being. It flowed through his veins and settled in his heart. It was an emotion he had heard of time and time again but he never had a reason to feel it.

So he spoke of it.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

And she said it back.

“I love you more, Paul.”

Paul felt he would startle awake from the dream. But he wanted to witness more. He wanted to feel this feeling for as long as he could. Because he knew once he woke it would all disappear. All in the blink of an eye.

So, he shut his eyes harder and he kept dreaming.

And she was still there. In his dream, she was still there. Looking at her with so much love and joy that he was okay if he never woke. Here he was happy, unencumbered by his responsibilities as a shifter. Here he wasn’t part of a pack, he didn’t have to protect the people around him from the vampires that loomed or keep any treaty. Here he could simply be. And be with her by his side.

“What’re you thinking of in there?” (Y/N) smiled at him with so much warmth he could feel it inside him. Her lips kissed his forehead with a tender touch. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“I’m thinking of you,” he said. “I’m always thinking of you.”

“All good things I hope.”

“The best,” he chuckled. “There’s nothing bad I could ever think of you.”

“Tell me then,” she giggled. “Tell me one of the things you think of.”

“How I am the luckiest person alive because you chose to be with me. I’m still not very sure why you would choose me.”

“Because you chose me,” she smiled. Her hand traced his face like she was committing every line to her memory. “The universe really knew what it was doing by bringing us together, huh?”

“It seems so. Remind me again why it took this long?”

“We all know it was your stubbornness,” she laughed. “But never mind all that. This. This is all worth it. It’s all a dream.”

“A dream I never want to wake from.”

But a dream it all was. And a dream it would remain for Paul for the time being. He would stay away from her as much as he could — at least until his heart could take it. But he knew he could always see her in his dreams. A place where no one would speak of what he should or shouldn’t do with his life.

Taglist: @winter-soldier-101@zheezs14 @a-sifu-hotman @sunflowerleii @DyslexicCatterpillar @Blackbluerose666 @slutforsainz @kortniec696 @xcastawayherosx @minhaimaginacao @bluebirbnamedJay @sirenheadenby@andreiaafaria@bluetreecloud20 @valejewel @nogitsune-the @user0ur0mom @skyesthebomb @swidkid @avis15 @honeylovemoon @wonieeee @edwardssugarmommy @nyenye @sugajar @lovel-blog @witchofhawkins @Six-Call @then-worship-at-my-altar @ems-alexandra @blueshoelacess @Nyctophilia710 @rosalie-whitlock @nocturnalherb16 @this-is-a-bad-idea @esposadomd @locokoca @volturiwolf @spookyqueen

1K notes · View notes

kiiwiigii · 8 months

Text

Revenge

Alec x Fem!Reader

Summary: Having Alec in handcuffs is always fun.

Warnings:

NSFW 18+

Smut

Bondage

Word Count: 700+

Requested?: For Kinktober!

Playful and happy reader handcuffing alec. They’re happy because they managed to trick him into them and he can’t get them offfff 😌

A/N: I do enjoy the thought of Alec in handcuffs… perhaps a bit too much.

I wasn't sure how I managed to do it, and a part of me half suspected that he had let me, and the other part thought that perhaps it was the lingerie that had distracted him. But I finally had Alec right where I wanted him. Underneath me, handcuffed to the bed.

"Amore," His lips twitched, trying to hide a smirk. "Would you please explain why you have me handcuffed to the bed?"

"Because."

"That's not an answer, Y/N."

"I'm aware."

I grinned as I straddled him, giving a little extra wiggle as I felt him harden beneath me. He sucked in a breath, eyes darkening as he watched me begin to unbutton his shirt. I looked him in the eye as I let my mouth follow the path of my fingers, kissing and nibbling my way downwards as his skin was revealed until I got to his belt, teasingly dipping my tongue along the waistband before making my way back up and grinding against him.

He let out a strangled moan, hips bucking.

"Amore." His voice was husky and tinged with warning.

I simply giggled, arching my back as I pressed against him, letting my breasts push up enough to show some serious cleavage, although the lace already left little to the imagination. I watched as his eyes zeroed in on it, and I couldn't hide my smirk as his eyes nearly turned pitch black. I wove my hands in his hair, kissing him deeply, letting my ass come back down and grind against him once more.

Alec groaned again, rising up to meet me. If I was being honest, I wasn't sure how much longer I was going to last. I had begun with the intent of just teasing him a little but seeing Alec underneath me, relatively "helpless", his hands cuffed about his head, had me turned on. And I'm sure he could tell by the scent of my arousal. My panties were soaked.

I leaned back, lifting myself off him for a mere second to unzip his pants and release his cock. I didn't even bother removing my panties, I simply moved them to the side as I sank down onto him, letting him fill my pussy to the brim.

"Fuck." He hissed, closing his eyes and raising his hips to push deeper. "Fuck, you feel good."

"I know I do."

His eyes shot open in surprise, most likely unused to such a response. Usually, I was meek, but having him underneath me and under my control gave me a confidence boost. I slowly began moving my hips, grinding down as far as possible to push him as deep as I possibly could. He watched me as if hypnotized. And maybe he was. Alec was used to doing most of the work.

Now it was my turn.

"Does that feel good baby?" I grinned at him.

"You have no idea." He breathed.

"Oh? I think I just might. Your cock feels pretty good inside me."

I squeezed the walls of my pussy tight, causing him to buck his hips again, a growl ripping through his chest. Ooh, that growl. Shivers raced up and down my spine and my nipples hardened even more. Alec began to move of his own accord, his hip thrusting up to meet mine.

I let out a moan, my head falling back as I supported myself with my hands on his chest. Fuck. This really did feel good. I began to feel that delicious tightening in my lower belly, the pleasure continuing to rise.

"Fuck."

My orgasm swept through me, back arching and my mouth falling open in surprise. I let myself continue to grind against him, barely doing more than pushing him deeper. I began to collapse forward, body shaking, when I felt everything tilt and suddenly Alec was over me.

"We're not done yet, you naughty thing."

He began to thrust into me hard and fast and I cried out, still shaking as he strung out my orgasm and causing me to snowball into yet another one. And another. And another.

"Alec!" I gasped, back arching off the bed and tears in my eyes, doing my best to breathe.

He slowed down, rolling his hips ever so slightly.

"Revenge is sweet."

If this was revenge, then I'd gladly take it.

Every time.

{Kinktober} // {Masterlist}

Taglist: @alecvolturi @belladonna-xox @hyperuseless @jana-jaeynneee @itsmytimetoodream @lack-lust-3r @pawspurpaw @pooka167 @rosedpetal @targaryenmoony @twilightlover2007 @lucansmina @alecvolturiswifeforever

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#alec volturi x reader #alec volturi smut #alec volturi #twilight #the twilight saga #reader insert #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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lino-jagiyaa · 1 year

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desire - kim seungmin | next

genre: suggestive, fwb | pairing: seungmin x female reader | warnings: swearing, perv!seungmin (stealing panties and being a peeping tom, feeling y/n up in a dark classroom), implied thick reader | words: 1,405

☀︎ your deskmate, seungmin couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself during class.

note: this ended up longer than i thought lol, sorry in advance...

do not repost or translate ©︎lino-jagiyaa - please remember to reblog and leave your feedback if you enjoyed it! do not spam like, you will be blocked.

it was friday afternoon, your last class and your professor was letting the class relax since he gave you all an exam the day before that was really stressing everyone out, including him who had to grade everything today. so instead of starting a new lesson, he decided that he’s put on a movie while he started grading. seungmin had a few classes with you. he always chose to sit next to or near you since you were at least a little bit acquainted and it didn’t seem like he had many friends so you just let him.

he was nice to you. you liked having his company on days when your friends weren’t there. he’d offer to bring you water bottles or snacks when you studied in the library on late nights. he was a really nice guy.

when he walked into class today, you were already sitting at your table. the lights were dimmed low but you could see the friendly smile he gave you. “hey, seung.” you started

“hey. what are we doing today? everyone looks slumped.” he says, putting his bag down on the floor next to his chair as he sits

“oh, we’re just watching a movie since the teacher has stuff to grade.”

“ooh, okay. is it any good?”

“it’s okay i guess, not much has played yet and to be honest i haven’t paid much attention to it.” you chuckled, laying your head on the table facing him

“i see. well, how was your day?” he asked sweetly, laying his head on the table as well

“it’s been pretty good actually. but i didn’t see you barely at all, where’ve you been?”

“i’m glad. and ah, i was busy studying for business math. you know how that goes.” he jokingly rolls his eyes

“mm, yeah it sucks.”

“yup.”

“you wanna know something weird though?” you ask

“sure..?”

“okay so, i went to the gym like i usually do. well duh, you know because you go in the same hour as me- anyways, after my workout i went to shower, and when i got out, i couldn’t find some of my clothes.”

“like... the dirty ones?”

“yes. i was like.. who the fuck?”

“did you leave them on a bench or in your locker?”

“on the bench, but they’ve never been stolen before. so i’m guessing one of those frat boys took it for their rush or something. it’s whatever, i guess.” you shrug

“damn, that’s sick as fuck.” seungmin frowns

but the truth was, he was trying to keep his composure since he was the one who took your sweaty gym clothes. specifically your underwear. he’d never gone as far as stealing before. only sneaking glances at you in the locker room when you changed, or through your bedroom window at night. giving him easy access since you neglected to get a pair of blinds in your dorm. he usually admires you during classes or in between them. how beautiful you looked, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

“yeah, but it’s fine, really. it’s not like i can’t just buy another pair of underwear- shit, sorry. i didn’t even mention that before, i don’t know why i told you that-” you stammered

“y/n, it’s fine. we’re friends, right?”

“yes.” you cleared your throat

“okay then, it’s all good.” he smiled

that damn smile. why is he so handsome?

“you’re good at this.”

“at what?” he questions

“comforting people, me. you’re such a smooth talker, you know.”

“well, i try.” he smirks

fuck. y/n, calm down. he’s just a friend. right?

“you don’t date, do you?” you sit up

“not particularly, no. but if i see a cute girl, i might shoot my shot.”

he nudges you on the shoulder when he speaks. shit. is he flirting now?

“how about you? i haven’t really seen you with anyone, i mean, except hyunjin sometimes...” he says low

is he... jealous? maybe you’re over analyzing things...

“no, you’re right. i’m not seeing anyone right now and i’m not apposed to dating or even hookups but i guess nobody else seemed interested.” you reply

“you sure about that?” he leans closer to you now

“you’re not... interested in me, are you?”

“maybe i am. what would that mean to you?”

you could feel your face heating up, cheeks burning in a deep red. as well as the heat between your legs growing stronger.

fuck. kim seungmin, the man you are...

“...yeah- i mean, you’re a charmer for sure. you’re not joking, though right?”

“now why would i do that? you’re gorgeous, y/n. and anyways, i’ve had a crush on you for a while now. not sure how you haven’t noticed until now.” his eyebrows drew together

“really?” you question

“do i have to show you, y/n?” he leans in closer now, so close that you can feel his breath on your face.

it was making your head spin. the proximity between you two getting smaller and smaller as the conversation goes on.

“i wouldn’t be opposed.” you whisper

“you sure?” he whispers back

“just kiss me already.”

and he does. sure, he looks and acts sweet but right now he’s taking his time with you. kissing you slowly and drawing you in to face him more by your waist.

your panties must be soaked now, and he knows it. knows how much of an effect he has on you already. he should, he’s been observing you for so long so he knows just what to fo to drive you crazy. can’t wait fuck you dumb.

his hands are resting on the small of your back now and you whine into the kiss. it makes him draw back.

“why’d you stop?” you said in a breathy tone

“there’s other people in room. don’t wanna get carried away, do we?” he smirks

“...right” you look away from him, scanning the room

“the class ends soon, so don’t worry. but i’ve got an idea.”

“oh?”

“let me hold onto your thigh till the end of class?”

“seungmin...”

“don’t be shy.” his eyes focused on the short hem of your short skirt that now rides up your thighs. oh so beautifully.

“okay. yes- you can do it.”

“don’t worry, i’ll be gentle.”

he scooted closer to where you were on the bench seating. only about an inch or two worth of space between the two of you. enough room for his hand to reach your thigh.

he played it safe at first, softly placing a hand on your right thigh. just resting it there, scanning your face for discomfort.

“you’re soft...” is all he managed to say before you were parting your thighs for him, ever so slightly. but he got the hint and subtly moved his hand closer to your core.

“fuck. you’re already soaked for me and i haven’t even started yet.”

neither of you were looking at each other, pretending to pay attention to the movie that was still playing. it only seemed to have about ten minutes left anyways so it didn’t seem to matter.

oh, how glad you were to have picked a spot in the very back of the class. but still nervous that someone would catch onto what the two of you were doing back there.

you could feel seungmin lifting up your skirt a little higher, inching his fingers higher and higher up your thigh. so close. so close to where you wanted him to be. he squeezed your thigh, making you impulsively squeeze your thighs together. on his hand... giving him even more access.

it didn’t last for long though. no. he forced your thighs back open, even wider than they were before with the single hand that was resting there before.

“damn, you’re such a tease.” he huffed, “don’t tease... your teasing is torture, baby. just wanna make you feel good.”

luckily for you, the bell rang and your professor told everyone they could leave. seungmin let go of you, getting up and grabbing his bag, waiting for you to do the same. once you did, you could feel your thighs sticking together. there was no way he didn’t notice. his gaze on you was hungry, needy. he wanted you, needed you.

he held out his hand, signaling you to grab it. “wanna get out of here? my apartment is near campus.”

“absolutely.”

he didn’t have to ask you twice. you wanted him too.

taglist: @dadonbabysworld @lynanist @lix-ables @xhazmania @svngcore @seungisms @strayingawayy

#kim Seungmin #suggestive skz #skz scenarios #perv skz #straykids hard thoughts #skz smut #jagiyaa writes ★#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut

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seat-safety-switch · 9 months

Text

"He is named Mr. Biscuits. But she... she is named Ms. Biscotti."

I have been volunteering at the animal shelter over the last couple of weeks, as part of my court-ordered community service. Before that, I was out on the highway, picking up garbage. Unfortunately for me, I was tempted by a broken-down Chrysler Imperial on the side of the road, and attempted to fix it to help out the owner, and not at all to drive away with it at high speed. This drew the ire of my supervisor, who shot me with a beanbag round.

Sub-lethal ammunition aside, the animal shelter had been treating me quite well. They gave me water and snacks, for instance, and I got to become friends with a grumpy old tabby who would only piss in the box when I was around. Everything was going according to plan, until it happened.

"Here are the new enrichment toys for these cats. Ooh, they look so realistic. Here's a little Toyota Corolla–"

It was clearly a Toyota Corona, but I can see how someone born in this country, and who had failed to be educated about Japanese domestic market shitboxes would miss that. I took a deep breath, lowered my heart rate, and she continued without noticing.

"And I think this one is a VW Beetle. Cute!"

There was absolutely no way that someone could mistake a Fiat 600 for a VW Beetle. Like, come on. This person – my new supervisor – was a secret oppressor placed here by my haters, to attempt to get me to violate my parole conditions. Still, I maintained my composure, drawing on the anger-management skills that had been drilled into my head by a combination of prison group therapy and mood-altering medication. I sat there, crosslegged, and watched a small orange kitten climb into the Corona. This, I assumed, must be Mr. Biscuits.

I fully expected the cat to immediately leap out of the car and continue on his usual kitteny antics of knocking things off shelves, chasing the reflection from my phone screen, and excessively odorous pooping. That didn't happen. Mister Biscuits sat in the drivers seat and seemed to be working the steering wheel and little shifter, his brow furrowed with intent.

Did I tell anyone? No. My volunteer duties were clearly indicated in the contract that I signed when I began work. When Mr. Biscuits stole that Power Wheels a couple years later, and led the entire police department on a high-speed chase after knocking over a pet food store, I wasn't surprised. The community gives back what you give to it.

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anonymooseforever007 · 1 year

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Romantic Capture? (Pt 2. Romantic Escape)

(Tommy Shelby X female reader)

Summery: Y/N's successfully managed to con her way to her husband's car keys. Now she's free to have the fun she's been missing for the past week. But with an unexpected call from Polly, will her plans actually go to plan? Part two of Romantic Escape!

A/N: Hi y'all! No TW's for this (Tommy does get accidentally scuffed up tho) but I do think Tommy may be a bit OOC because this part has him talking about his feelings to the reader and I'm honestly not too sure how to write that, so idk if I did it well, but I tried! I kinda see him as someone who doesn't like admitting his fears and mistakes so when he actually does he's unsure of what to say as opposed to his usual suave self and tried writing it like that. So it's definitely got a bit of a different tone than the last one but it's still got good fun bits! I hope y'all enjoy!❤️

WC- 2.9k

Main Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The phone in Tommy's office rang.

"Polly? That you? I just started those papers you wanted, was there something else?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You giggled to yourself as you internally relived about your grand success, checking your mirrors one last time before getting ready to drive off. Silently, you thanked your husband for filling up the gas tank on his way back today.

It took months for most people to even try coming up with a plan to win one over THE Thomas Shelby. Keyword try. But you'd managed a successful caper in under an hour. And to top it off, if everything went as planned you'd have some fun with your "poor victim" when you returned. Maybe you should try this thing more often. You had been trying to convince him to let you redo the washroom for a while now. You thought the space would look just lovely with a new coat of paint and padded benches for you and the maids to sit on while talking and folding clothes. Or the garage. There was an empty space there you would have loved to turn into a workshop for the gardener and handyman. It was perfect for tools and lunch. OOH! Or maybe you could finally get the rolling ladder you'd wanted in the library, since you'd first moved in! You always wanted one as a kid! Yes, you would definitely have to try this thing again, especially if it went so smoothly the first time!

But that was for another day. If you left right now you'd make it in time to find good seats. Had this been a film, it would be the part where the captive finally gets out of their cell and starts joyously yelling "I'm free! I'm free I'm fr..."

A hand shot through the window and grabbed the steering wheel. Screaming, you did the first thing that came to your mind. Reaching out the window to grab the collar of your attacker, you yanked them forwards as hard as you could, while simultaneously stepping on the gas. You heard a head hit the car's roof as it made contact with the shiny metal.

"FUCK!"

Wait.

You knew that voice. And the tie wrapped between you fingers....

Oh no.

"Tommy? What the hell are you doing?" You questioned, quickly letting go of him and looking down at you husband who was cradling an injured nose and making sure his toes weren't broken from you almost running them over.

"What the hell am I doing, eh!? What the bloody fuck are you doing," he exclaimed as he got to his feet, using the side of the car to stabilise himself so he wouldn't stumble. He didn't know if he should be frustrated or proud of what you'd just done. On one hand he was happy to know you wouldn't freeze up when surprised if someone came out of nowhere. But on the other hand....that fucking hurt. He could already feel the headache forming and it took a solid minute for his vision to clear. The car was still running and once again your husband reached through the window, trying to grab the keys from the ignition.

"No," you smacked his hand away from the keys, gently but firmly. Tommy gave you a confused look and tried again.

"No. Tommy, no. Leave it. No. Thomas no." accompanied by another few gentle smacks until he pulled his hand back. You used one hand to guard the keys while the other remained slightly lofted, ready to bat again if needed. Tommy looked at you perplexed. In a manner only you could accomplish, he was left with absolutely no idea what was going on.

"What do you mean 'no'? What are you doing, I thought you were going upstairs eh? And Polly called said there were never any papers she needed," he'd questioned. If it was anyone else aside from you he'd probably be very angry by now. Because you'd lied to him, and Thomas Shelby didn't like being lied to. You also nearly ran him over, but it wasn't a first for that and he was honestly more annoyed at being lied to. That wasn't something he took lightly.

Especially when the lies involved stealing his car. But this wasn't anyone else. This was you. You looked at him for a moment before sighing and turning off the car, but remained in the drivers seat. Well, if you couldn't get out through trickery maybe the truth would work. And a little guilt tripping possibly?

"I'm taking the car out," you replied. "I wanted to go to the movies with Lizzie and maybe have a few drinks after. I haven't been out all week and my head feels fine. It's felt fine since the third day, but even then no one let me do anything. None of my friends or anyone else was able to come over either so I've been stuck all week and I'm bored and it's been getting lonely too." You looked at you husband whose face had softened and continued, "So I called up Lizzie and I've got to meet her in half an hour if we want to get good seats. And Thomas I love you, but I am doing this. I know you're on edge because of what happened a few months ago, but I promise I'm all good now. You aren't able to control every little thing that happens to me. I'll get hurt sometimes and so will you, and that's just life. You can't make me live in a bubble after every little bump and bruise."

Reaching one hand out the car window you gently grabbed your husband's chin and ran a finger over his cheek, where an increasingly red mark had begun to form. Thank Heavens, for once he hadn't had a cigarette in his mouth when you'd yanked him. He's probably have a burn on his face too. You really didn't intend to hurt him, thinking it was someone else trying to grab you.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I thought you'd make another fuss if I told you and I really didn't want to argue again. I know you care about me but you have to understand Thomas, I'm a grown woman and can make my own choices about then I feel better. It's the same thing you do when you decide to go back to work after being shot or beat up. When we got married we promised to go though life together. And together means side by side, equal steps. It doesn't mean one gets to drag the other along choosing each path alright," Caressing his cheek one last time, you sighed and moved to exit the car. You were still going out of course, but you wanted to take a quick look at Tommy's face in the house where the light was brighter before you left. You knew you'd be distracted and feel slightly guilty all night, not knowing how much damage your unintentional attack truly caused.

But before your hand made it to the car door, it was Tommy who gently knocked your hand away this time. He placed you hand gently on the steering wheel, holding it there, while he closed his eyes for a moment and thought. Then he released you hand, before making his way around the front of the car and moving into the passenger seat. For a few moments the car was silent before Tommy grabbed you hand again and turned slightly so he could face you better.

"Love... Don't feel sorry for what you did, it's not your fault. You weren't... wrong," Tommy started, slightly unsure what to say. He knew the words you had said were right, but he didn't know what to say next. Tommy never was to good at expressing his emotions, especially the strongest ones like love and pride and fear; and he was feeling all of those right now. But since meeting you he'd gotten a little better. At least it got easier to try. And that's what he did now, sitting besides you in the car while the last rays of the sun's light left the horizon for the day. "I don't want you to feel like I'm trying to control your or our life together. I'm not. I just want you to be safe. I don't know what I'd do without you," he continued, trying to remember what you'd told him one day about how he didn't have to be charming or precise when telling you his feelings. You told him they could be as messy and unorganized as he could manage if it meant he was telling you the truth. As long as he trusted you enough to try and let it out you'd be more than happy to listen. He knew you'd never fault him for telling the truth even if you'd still scold him for hiding it.

"The truth is... the truth is that the day you got hurt something else happened. I got a call from a man telling demanding I sign over half the company or else he'd make you pay for me," Tommy paused for a moment trying to press down his anger at the man, "I wasn't worried at first, figured he was just making empty threats. Didn't think anyone was stupid enough to touch you. Then Francis called about your fall and even then I didn't think much about him, I was only worried you were alright. But then, later that night after I saw you, I was looking at the mail. This fucker also sent a letter to the house with the same fucking demand and I didn't see it until then. There was a photo in it too. It was you and your friends sitting in that restaurant you're so fond of. The one where we always get Finn's birthday cake? I don't know how he got that photo," Tommy stressed running a hand through his hair. He knew the man was dead, but it still made his skin crawl thinking of what he could have done. "I don't know what it was, but that photo and you being hurt... it scared me. I don't want to lose you. So since you were already hurt, I used that as an excuse to keep you at the house yeah? The maids really were to make sure you rested your head, but the cars were so I could try and keep you at the house where it was safer. I even had more men posted around the premises during the day." Tommy took a breath gently rubbing his thumb over your hand. He wasn't use to talking this much, even with you. But seeing as you didn't pull back, maybe he hadn't said the wrong thing yet. "But he's gone now, I got word he was taken care of today and he won't hurt you... No one will hurt you. So we don't have to worry about him. I was going to tell you today, I promise I was. But I'm ...I'm sorry Love. I didn't tell you the truth earlier and you got lonely... I should have found a way for your friends to come here or asked you to drive around with one of me men but I didn't yeah? And that.... that may not have been the best plan but it was the only one I could think of to keep you safe. Because you are the most important thing in the world to me Love and I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt because of me."

Tommy had finished now. He wasn't sure what else to say. He'd lied to you and he knew you hated that. But in his mind it was for a good cause. He didn't want to burden or stress you with problems created because of him. So he'd hid the truth until he couldn't anymore and after admitting his secrets he was left without a script. Most men would promise it wouldn't happen again, but Tommy couldn't do that. He knew that if you were ever threatened like that again he wouldn't hesitated to hide you away where he knew it was safe, even if you were mad at him for it. And you knew it too. So he wouldn't by make a promise he wouldn't hesitate to break. Not today anyway.

The car was silent for a few moments and Tommy wasn't looking at you anymore. He did that sometimes after admitting something to you. Like he was scared to look into your eyes, and see that you didn't like what he said. And honestly, sometimes you didn't. Sometimes you wished your husband never told you the things he'd done that day or whose blood you were washing off his hands in the middle of the night. But most times like tonight, when he'd finally look up he'd see the same love he saw the day he married you and many days before that. You gently took his face in you hands and guided him to look at you again.

"Tommy, I can't say I'm not mad you didn't tell me the truth sooner, but I'm glad you did now," you started, "I'm alright and so are you and no one is going to hurt us. I get why you wanted to hide it from me, I don't always want to tell you what's scaring me either." Tommy averted his eyes and scoffed briefly at the implication of being scared. Yes, it was true but he still didn't like admitting it. "But I'm glad you told me now, yeah? It's better to get it out eventually than hold it in forever. So I wish you'd told me sooner but for now I'm glad you did. And thank you for apologizing, I forgive you... but I just ask next time someone's threatening ME, that I be the first one you tell yeah? Who knows maybe I can think of a better plan to get rid of him than you huh?"

Tommy closed his eyes briefly, leaning to rest his head on your shoulder. Talking had allowed a weight to lift from his shoulders. Not just because he knew the man was gone, but because he'd finally told you the truth. And apparently, it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Yes, he knew you'd still probably lecture him slightly for lying more later, but for now he was just happy for you to know the truth.

"Yeah Love, that I can try to do. Fuck, I can try."

Your fingers pulled the back of his hair lightly as you raised an eyebrow at him.

"'Try,' Thomas?"

A small huff of laughter came from his mouth as he pulled back to look at you again. Now that you'd both told the truth there was a lightness there, which hadn't been present all week.

"Promise, I promise you'll be the first to know if any rat bastard ever thinks of threatening you again eh?"

"That sounds more like it, my dear darling."

This time it was your turn to rest your head on his shoulder for a few moments as silence once more overtook the car. When you looked up again, you moved to gently kissed your husband on his still reddened cheek. As you went to do it a second time he turned his head, allowing your lips to connect with his as he returned the kiss gently. It took a few seconds before he tried deepening it again, and his hands had just reached the hem of your skirt when he was once again stopped. Panting slightly you resting your forehead against his, slightly brushing the loose strands on the back of his neck. He let out a soft groan at that. He loved the way your fingers felt playing with his hair like that, especially if it was late at night when you were both in bed after a long day.

"Tommy?"

"Yeah Love?"

"I still am meeting Lizzie tonight. If I stay at this house for one more minute I may actually set something on fire," you finished, readjusting your skirt and turning the car on again. If you left now you'd still just barely make it. "Like I may actually give Alfie Solomons a run for his money with the fight I'm going to put up if I don't get out within the next five minutes. Or I may pay him to do it for me, the lovely man. He use to be a boxer you know. "

Tommy rolled his eyes at the Alfie comment before smirking and leaning back in his seat, putting one arm around the back of yours, "Alright then Love let's get going."

You laughed, pushing his arm back and turned to him, "Oh, no chance in hell you're coming with me. I may forgive you for lying to me, but you're still not out of the dog house yet. Besides, this is a night for ME and Lizzie. Not me, Lizzie, and YOU."

"Come on Love. I'm sure Lizzie wouldn't mind. After all, it still could be dangerous out there. It is getting dark after all."

"Well then it's a pretty good think I can protect myself isn't it? Remember the gun Esme got me for Christmas? And so can Lizzie. You aren't the only one with tricks up your sleeve. So you. Hop out of the car before I'm forced to make you and," You leaned closer, "how about you spend the time I'm gone planning another apology eh?"

Tommy let out a huff of laughter, but complied. He walked around the front of the car again before leaning down to the still open window.

"Another apology eh? I thought you'd already taken the first one."

"Of course, but you still have to make up for earlier to remember? After all, I won't be out with Lizzie all night and you did say you'd stay in your office until 10:30. That's something else to make up for isn't it? You didn't even give me time to start a bath to hide, cheater," you teased lightly as you played with Tommy's tie and his eyes light up like they had earlier when you'd sent him to the office.

"Oh that's the kinda apology you want isn't it? I can manage that. I can manage that very well Love. How about this time I hide for you to find me? Change up our little game eh?" Tommy kissed your hand teasingly before finally stepping back to let you leave. "Though I did help Curly clean the horses earlier at Charlie's yard, and that was a bit messy" Tommy restated your words earlier, "So when you're done why don't you start by looking in places one can get a little less...dirty eh? Maybe the bath will still be warm...."

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy Shelby imagine #Thomas Shelby x reader #Peaky Blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #peaky blinders

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