#I won’t because there’s enough tag here so I’ll just go to bed or something

[goblin-enjoyer]

Anyone else get a flood of old(ish) animated show clips on your yt recommendations like once a year? Because it happens to me like all the time (well roughly twice a year but you get the point).What and how does the YouTube algorithm manage to consistently do this every year. Like I didn’t even look around that area of the internet at the time and then just adventure time kept popping up(I watched it because show good) and like half of my home page is stuff is Cartoon Network shows. I mean I don’t really mind that much, it’s just oddly consistent.

[notjustjavierpena]

Longing

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This is a collection of !!!!5!!!! asks because y’all are desperate for Javier being a great husband and lover, and I am happy to give you what you crave.

Summary: You make love to your husband the first time after giving birth.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, husband!javier, domestic life, breastfeeding, f masturbation, showering together, insecurity and nervousness, longing kisses and lots of them, body worship, breast play, lactation kink, javier is HUNGRY, nipple play orgasm, checking in, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, clit stim, unprotected piv sex, emotional and desperate sex, creampie, crying and aftercare, sweet javi is here to make you comfortable and make you come 

Word count: 5.3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53944708

Longing

Javier gets up early every day for work during your maternity leave and the routine is the same; coffee, breakfast, and a shower, and then he gets Lucas out of his bassinet so he can feel his son’s tiny body against his naked chest before he finally brings him to you because he knows you love bed-sharing with your newborn. It’s so you don’t miss me, he jokes each time after kissing your forehead, knowing that his son might as well be his clone, at least not too much.

You’re nursing Lucas as Javier gets dressed. Today will be the first break in your newfound routine, and you barely know how to begin. Something is playing on your mind and you distract yourself by running three fingers over Lucas’ head as he feeds, hoping it’ll make the words you’re about to say seem less clumsy.

“Javi,” you try to get your husband’s attention.

“Sí, mi amor (yes, my love)?” Javier is standing in front of the mirror, tying his tie. He looks at you through the mirror and smiles gently as he catches Lucas’ tiny hands reaching for your chest. You let the infant grab at your finger instead, warmth in your grin as you bond with him.

“I was thinking we could do something tonight,” you begin and your voice sounds almost absentminded. It feels silly to ask for sex when you think back to how ravenous both of you were before and during the pregnancy. Lucas is nearly two months old. You haven’t been intimate with each other for two months. 

“Do what?” Javier goes back to tying a knot on his ridiculously patterned tie. 

“You know…”

He tenses up, almost looking like when a cat’s ears perk up in interest.

“Is tonight the night?” He asks, catching on. He turns away from the mirror to face you, expectant but careful not to assume. 

“Two months,” you say simply, “I think I’m ready.”

“Two whole months. How the fuck did we manage that?” He snorts. You tut at his foul language but cannot help but smile since you know he is right. It boggles your mind too. 

“We’ll have to take it slow. Would that be okay?” You look down at Lucas as he gurgles slightly, moving him a bit in your arms. 

Javier finishes dressing for the day. He walks across the room and bends down over you, kissing your forehead, “Is it okay that I get to take care of my beautiful wife? I think I’ll suffer through it for you.”

When you tilt your head backward, he also kisses your mouth. You smile against his lips. You say, “I think you’re late for work.”

“And maybe I’ll go home early too,” he pecks your lips repeatedly, “Rush home and into the bedroom.”

“We’ll be waiting here for you,” you let him know. 

Javier runs a finger down over Lucas’ nose, “Your momma better change the batteries in the baby monitor, mijo (my son). We won’t have time to check on you as often.”

“Oh, just go,” you grin.

“Te quiero (I love you).”

“I love you too, now go catch some bad guys.”

Javier gives you one last kiss before he heads out the door, and it’s enough to leave you aching for another. He lingers until your breath is torn from your lungs, slips his tongue inside your mouth until you are reminded of what he can do with it, and his fingers slide through the hair at the back of your head - all he has to do is yank but he doesn’t, not with his baby in your arms.

“More later,” he whispers and your pulse goes south at the promise. 

“O-okay,” you only manage to stutter.

—

When Lucas has been put to sleep, Javier and you take a warm bath together to get you all relaxed. He helps you under the spray, guiding you into the cubicle by the hand, and smiles as you sigh deeply at the warm water. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he praises when you run your fingers through your hair as it wets. You give him a shy grin. He proceeds to kiss your neck, not caring about water running down over his face when his lips on your body make you less tense with nerves. 

You tilt your head back, letting out a sigh as he drinks in your skin, going upwards until it is your mouth he captures. His hands dig into your fuller hips, fingers denting what you call your baby weight and what he tells you he’d fall on his knees for.

“Can I touch you?” He asks when he needs air. 

“I’m nervous,” you answer truthfully. 

Carefully, as if seeking permission, he takes your hand in his own. He kisses your palm softly and you feel a spark of electricity in your belly, knowing that you are lucky that it is him who is here to guide you through this. He moves your hand down between your legs, “Perhaps… these gentle hands.” 

“You want me to touch myself?” You blink.

“Who would be better?” He grins boyishly. 

A part of you wants to say that you think he might know you better than you know yourself but there’s a plan here. You follow through, never breaking eye contact as you find your clit and start going in circular motions. It takes a second but when your body finally reacts, you let out a gasp at the flutter that spreads out from the little nub. 

Javier looks ravenous at having the privilege to witness you like this. He talks quietly over the sound of the water, and soon you feel his cock poke into your thigh, “That’s it, mi amor (my love). God, look at you. Doing so good.” 

“Javi,” you sigh gently. Your fingers speed up, feeling your heartbeat slowly increasing in speed. You chase your high, mouth slightly open and eyes locked on Javier’s.

“Yeah? You’re gonna make yourself come?” Javier’s hands find your hips again. He holds them in place, joins in the way that he can. You nod with a higher-pitched yeah, eyes falling closed during a louder moan.

Your fingers are more frantic after that. You touch yourself with him looming over you, core burning with need as you can feel his eyes bore into you. Your clit jumps occasionally as you work yourself toward the edge and a crease in your forehead forms. 

“I’m gonna— fuck,” you announce. The sound of water cascading down your body blurs until it becomes almost silent to your ears.

“Yes, you are,” his voice has dropped an octave, “Oh, you really are, aren’t you?”

And then you snap and the fact that it isn’t in privacy and that you have Javier swearing under his breath makes it feel incredible. You can feel your cunt clench from clit to slit repeatedly, seeking more than you can give at the moment but oh, it feels so good. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted your husband inside of you more, walls aching to be stretched.

Time stands still in the shower. You find yourself resting against the cold, tiled wall. Javier looks at you, has pushed his wet hair out of his face, and is smiling triumphantly, “Mi esposa hermosa (my gorgeous wife).”

You roll your eyes, cheeks heating up from both post-orgasmic bliss and sudden shyness, “It felt good. I don’t think you know how wet I am for you.”

“Well you are in the shower,” he jokes when he spots your restraint, hoping to get you to relax even further, and you step forward to punch him playfully. He shies away, laughing to the point where your head swims with love and tenderness for him. 

It ends up being an occasion to kiss once more. Javier holds your face, thumb smoothing over your chin as he slides his mouth over yours. You melt into him, holding onto both of his wrists as you suck on his tongue and it doesn’t bother you that you accidentally swallow a few droplets of water; his lips on yours make everything else fade. 

He has rarely kissed and touched you like this over the past few months, having agreed with himself to not tempt you too much with something that neither of you would have been able to follow through on, so the promise behind his touch - his hands are going down to your hips and your arms are linking together around his neck - makes you shiver as goosebumps rise on your skin underneath the hot spray of water. 

Eventually, you realize how hard he is and you almost feel bad for being so selfish but when you reach down, Javier stops you. 

“I can wait,” he promises, breaking the kiss to look down between your bodies. He twitches in your hand, even more when you reluctantly let go. 

“Javi,” you whine.

“I don’t want it to be over already,” he explains with color on his cheeks, “Think about how much we’ll enjoy it later. I’m sorry, mi amor (my love).”

“No, I understand,” you reply with a soft sigh, “I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Mhm, bet you will,” he hums and then drags you close to kiss you again.

You agree on finishing the shower and getting into your sleep clothes because Javier argues that it might help with your nerves to be undressed by him, a thing you absolutely love. You settle for a loose t-shirt - in case you have to nurse - and panties, something comfortable with an ability to leave the covered parts of your body up to the imagination.

Earlier, before checking on Lucas, you took painkillers to let your muscles relax even further. Now that they are working, you meet him in bed. He smiles at you as he sees you enter through the door and watches you come closer as he is sitting with one leg dangling from the side of your shared bed.

“Hey,” you say shyly.

“Come here,” he smiles.

You may have relaxed muscles but your heartbeat races in your chest, feeling like you might have butterflies trapped behind your ribs. Your body is humming as you crawl onto the bed, sitting on your knees in front of him. 

“You still want to do this?” He asks, taking one of your wrists in his hands. He rubs it with his thumb, giving you his usual concerned expression that could compete with that of a puppy. 

“Yes,” you confirm, leaning forward to initiate a kiss. 

He catches on quickly and meets you halfway. He tastes like toothpaste, kissing you softly at first before he grows hungry from having denied himself during the first touches in the shower. 

You sling your arms around him, just about to be bold enough to straddle him but he is quicker, and suddenly flips you around until your back hits the mattress and makes you bounce slightly. You respond with a half-yelp, half-giggle, and try to ignore any anxiety that might arise. 

However, any noise quickly dies in your throat because Javier moves on top of you. He moves close until you can get drunk on his scent, inhale the distinct smell of only him that gets you so high because you know it’s only you who gets to be so close to it. You can feel your heartbeat in your sex, your underwear starting to dampen. 

“You know I struggle to be gentle,” he rasps against your ear, placing a lingering kiss right below it to make your heartbeat spike. His hands curl around the bottom of your t-shirt. He pulls back to look at what he is doing to you and for a moment, you think he might rip the fabric apart from the way his nails dig into it, the same urgency in his eyes like someone who has gone without food and drink for weeks and is now looking at a whole buffet, “When it’s been so long since I have had you like this.”

You hum in understanding, mouth slightly open and squeezing your legs together with a sigh, causing Javier to look down between your legs. He looks like someone who is making a plan, a list of steps forward about what he wants to do to you. You can only wait in anticipation.

Your top comes off then. He yanks it upwards and you lift your arms above your head to help him rid you of it completely. Your tits bounce slightly as there is nothing to hold them anymore, and Javier groans at the sight of you. He practically latches onto your neck, sucking his way down your throat until he has made a trail of glistening spit down over your shoulder, your collarbone, and finally down between your breasts. It’s nice but it’s a lot.

“Stop,” you say to him as he seems lost in the moment. You rest your hands on the back of his neck, threading your fingers through the soft curls there. He lifts his head to look at you, and you smile gently. Your face feels hot, “I need you to go slow… Sorry, I’m not ruining it, am I? I just told you to stop…”

“What? No. No, mi amor (my love),” he reassures but even if his kisses have made you wet, you feel overwhelmed with the idea that things might not be the same ever again. You shift slightly underneath him, and he presses a soft kiss to your collarbone whilst watching your expression in case it’s still uncomfortable for you. 

“I think it might take a while for me to be ready tonight, I can’t just jump back in,” you swallow after confessing it but Javier nods in understanding. 

“That’s okay, baby. It’s only been two months,” he crawls up to hover over you, abandoning whatever he was doing even if he was enjoying it, and you still rest your hands on the back of his neck. 

“I mean you’re so,” you decide to feed his ego to make your reluctance up to him even if it’s not necessary, “… Big.”

Javier snorts. He seems to find it more funny than flattering, “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” you giggle, “Biggest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Listen,” he turns serious, resting on one of his forearms to reach for your hand on the back of his head. He pulls it down so he can hold your hand in his. He entwines your fingers, “Do you want to stop? I won’t get angry at you.”

“And not even try?” You avoid his gaze.

“Hey, mírame (look at me),” he replies and you do, “If that’s what you want. No matter what you say, we made progress tonight.”

“I masturbated in the shower,” you deadpan. 

Javier laughs but he kisses your lips a few times, “And it was fucking sexy. I’ll be satisfied with just watching that for the rest of my life if I had to, but I do like the thought of Lucas not being an only child.”

“Slow down, Peña,” you teasingly scold him, feeling your anxiety fade as he makes you laugh and thus relax, “You just got your first baby. I am not a factory.”

“What are you then?” He wiggles his brows.

“Your wife,” you say with a grin. 

“Oh, right, that’s right,” he moves to kiss your neck again and you find that you let him. He moves slower than before, trailing his lips across your throat from one shoulder to the other. He takes his time and doesn’t rush the way that he probably would like to, “That’s right, you’re my wife.” 

“Husband,” you moan softly and feel him smile against your skin. He goes further down and goosebumps rise on your skin when the flat of his tongue licks around one of your nipples. You push your chest out, needing more because it starts a fire in your belly. To think that he hadn’t even gotten this far just moments ago. 

“You like that?” He asks, pressing a kiss to the side of your right breast. He looks up at you through his lashes before he licks the little nub again, it has hardened into a peak. The nerves are so sensitive there now that you are breastfeeding, and you hadn’t even given it a second thought that it could be something to enjoy with him. 

“Yeah,” you sigh and stare down at the top of his head. He moves to bend your legs, spreading them apart so he can lie down between them and kiss your tits. 

“I can’t wait to see how wet this’ll get you, baby,” he murmurs as he concentrates. He starts with the right side, letting his mouth fall open until he can press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your nipple and suck just a little as he pulls back. He does it again. You curl your toes and whine. 

“Oh,” you are panting already from the connection it appears to have with your cunt, “Keep going.”

Javier doesn’t hesitate. He skims his hand up and down your side until he dares cup your breast, looking up at you for confirmation that you aren’t uncomfortable. You bite your lip and nod. 

Your husband applies the gentlest amount of pressure. He doesn’t remove his hand again, keeping your breast in his palm as he takes your nipple between his lips once more. However, this time he sucks without pulling away, and much to your surprise, as he massages you too, you feel a few drops of milk slip into his mouth. 

“Javi!” You say in a horrified voice, starting to squirm, “I’m so sorry. Oh my God, ohmygodohmygodohmy—“

But Javier only seems to be spurred on by this. In fact, he starts to coax out more milk to satisfy the hunger that he didn’t even know he had in him. You hear him mumbling something, telling you not to worry about it. He sucks, laps, and catches each drop that escapes his mouth and streaks your beautiful chest whilst your eyes roll back and your clit throbs. 

Your hands find his hair. You tug without making him pull away from you, and pressure builds as his skilled tongue moves in circles around your now-puffy nipple. He takes the peak between his lips again and again, the sound of wet kisses towards skin filling the room, and he drinks like he is parched. 

Eventually, you feel too tender to go on and something inside of you fears that you might actually come from this even if it seems ridiculous to be terrified of that happening. You don’t think you have ever had breasts this sensitive in your life, and whilst it has been nice for you to have Javier pay attention to your chest, this is new territory and it’s overwhelming above all else. 

The grip you have on his hair intensifies, “Baby. Can you switch? I’m getting sore.”

“Of course,” he draws back slowly and gently noses along your spit-slicked nipple and presses one last soft kiss. You twitch underneath the touch. 

“Javi,” you stress. 

But he follows through and switches over to the left. The sensation of him using his tongue on you here as well is exquisite, eliciting a string of higher and higher moans from your throat. 

God, he knows what he is doing with his mouth and soon wetness has started to smear your inner thighs after seeping through your underwear. You know Javier will lose his mind when he sees it.

Though right now, he is busy as his tongue flicks repeatedly across the hardened nub. Milk trails down your stomach at first and then suddenly squirts when he pinches your right nipple without warning. 

“Oh!” You gasp and feel your pulse getting stronger between your legs. You lift your head, “Jesus. This is—“

“The hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he interrupts you as if he knows you are going to degrade yourself in some way. You were in fact going to call it messy. He kisses your breast open-mouthed again, sucking your nipple into his mouth until you give in to a moan, “¡Dios mío (my God)! You taste like candy. Sweetest fuckin’ thing ever.”

“You need to—“ you can barely speak as his tongue curls around your hardened peak. He flicks his tongue back and forth over it afterward.

“Yes?” He stops to let you talk and nibbles right at the roundness of your breast. 

“I can’t do this anymore, we gotta do something else or I’ll come,” you don’t even hear how absurd it is to make it sound like a problem. Below you, Javier nearly chokes at hearing that.

“Jesus, how devastating that would be,” he says sarcastically. With a quick glance up at you, he decides to keep going to which you do not protest. He lavishes you with nips and sucks, building something low in your belly, “Then come, mi vida (my life).”

You try to catch your breath as your cunt pulses but suddenly an orgasm crashes over you and makes you lose it altogether. There’s milk everywhere. You cry for him after a moment of not being able to make a sound, hands falling to the sides so you don’t end up pulling strands of hair from his scalp. Your back arches, your throat scratches from the noise you make, and below you, Javier watches with absolute wonder.

“Are you okay?” He eventually asks, sitting up a little to follow your wishes if you should have any. When you don’t respond, too busy panting, he starts rubbing your thighs soothingly until you come back to him. 

“That’s never happened before,” you say, “I didn’t think…”

“Was it good?” He watches you with a tiny smirk.

You nod.

“Do you want more?” He continues. 

You don’t hesitate despite the circumstances. Twenty minutes ago, you would have doubted even being kissed. You nod.

“And what does my baby want?” He looks down between your legs. When you don’t reply, he starts suggesting things, “Want me to play with your perfect pussy? We can stop anytime you want.”

You whimper instead of using actual words. It’s now that you realize the pressure inside of you telling you how much you need to feel him inside of you, and you’ll take it any way you can. Perhaps it’ll be easier to start out this way. 

“Yeah?” He sounds almost a bit mocking, moving to stand on his knees between your spread legs, “That what my girl wants?”

“Yeah,” you reply breathlessly.

Javier swears quietly as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and watching the fabric cling to your wet seam. He inhales deeply as if to compose and behave himself, looking starved for more even as he already has a streak of white milk on his chin, “You are so goddamn wet for me, baby. She’s weeping, the poor thing.”

“Imagine how many men would worship the shape of your body,” he praises as soon as he has you naked below him, eyes glazed over by lust. He looks at you as if it’s the first time he has ever seen you, pupils dilated and mouth slightly open. You feel like a deer in the headlights of a car but you don’t dare interrupt him, don’t dare disturb the flow of words falling from his lips because they make your whole body burn with need instead of insecurity.

“I can’t believe that I was the one who got to make you my wife,” he tells you with a smile that shows you how pleased he is with himself as if it’s his greatest achievement - fuck everything else; the job, the money, the fame. He skims a hand over your belly before leaning down to kiss below your belly button, causing your muscles to jump underneath his warm mouth when he licks you clean of milk. Then his palm descends on your body, “Mhm, gonna show you how grateful I am. Stuff you full of my fingers.”

“Please,” you whine, jaw clenching as he slips a finger inside of you and tiny shivers seem unable to stop rolling over you. He straightens again to look at you for reassurance that everything is okay. You give him no reason to doubt.

After a few moments, he adds a second finger. He curls them upwards until he finds the little spot inside of you that makes you sing, and your hands grab at the sheets when he makes a come-hither motion over and over again.

“Javi,” you breathe desperately. 

“Yes?” He doesn’t halt, only slows down slightly to concentrate on what you are going to ask of him. The look in his eye tells you that he’ll give you anything. 

“I love you,” you moan towards the ceiling instead. The wet squelches of your cunt are obscene to listen to, bouncing off the walls along with your continuous gasping for air as he makes you unable to breathe properly. 

“I know, baby, I know. I love you too,” he grinds the heel of his hand down against your mound, reminding you briefly of how he made love to you the first time ever. He rubs your clit on the outside and works the pads of his fingers over your g-spot on the inside. Fast. The world fades away around you until you suddenly find yourself coming again, Javier’s eyes widening at how quickly you have gotten there once more, “Christ, baby. You are just insatiable tonight. Has it been too long?”

“I want you,” you completely ignore the question. You shake through your high, not even planning on begging but it’s almost too much not to have him fuck you, “I can— ah, I can take your cock. I can. Please. I need you inside of me.” 

Javier growls. He shoves his underwear down, moving on the bed for a moment until he is completely naked. You reach for him with newfound confidence, and he enters your embrace and slides both arms underneath you to hug you back. The kiss he gives you is so longing that you almost want to cry from all the emotion it exudes. He loves you so much. He would never do anything to hurt you. It is so clear at that moment. 

“Make love to me,” you moan into his mouth, thumbs drawing down the sides of his face until you can move your hands to the nape of his neck. He is warm against your chest, the curls at the back of his neck slightly damp from sharing your body heat for so long.

It takes a mere few seconds for him to reach down between your bodies. You make a little gasp as he pushes into you. He is slow in his movements, almost making it seem like he isn’t moving his hips forward at all, and he keeps his eyes on yours to make sure your face’s contortion isn’t because of pain. 

You grab at the pillowcase, clutching it into your grip as he fills you up. Your breathing is loud and hard, your eyes a little wider than usual. There’s a little resistance but you try to relax into it, accept his cock even if it’s with trembles of your body.

“This okay?” He asks with a voice that is marked by his own restraint. 

You nod repeatedly. You want to punch the bed. Instead, you reach to grab his bicep and hold on for dear life as he gets deep inside of you. You aren’t sure if you have overdone it by coming two times already because you are so sensitive, your walls fluttering around his length but oh, you want him so badly that you take it with your eyes rolling back into your skull.

After a few very long moments, he is fully inside of you. His chest rises and falls quickly, breathing strained because of how much he has missed being engulfed by your heat. You hold onto his arms which flex underneath your touch, and then he moves inside of you for the first time in two months. 

The cry that releases from your throat makes your voice break and Javier’s groan follows right after. You become a sweaty mess of limbs, clutching at each other as if you can’t get close enough. You pant his name, kiss him deeply, and dig your fingers into his skin hard enough to bruise.

“I’ve missed you,” you tell him through whimpers.

“You’re perfect, mi amor (my love),” he replies in a gruff voice, “I love to fuck you.”

Javier cannot help his mouth when you make him feel like this. He thrusts harder into you, moving his weight to his forearm so he can slide his free hand under you to press it against the small of your back. He lifts your pelvis into his own, arching you until no one would be able to tell where he starts and you finish. 

Then he speeds up his hips and you see stars. You throw both arms around him, holding onto your wrist to keep them there. He drives into you with determination to make you scream, and as you do, you try to imagine how beautiful his golden back is glistening with sweat. 

“Fucking love making you come,” he continues, planting a kiss on your jaw that was probably supposed to be on your mouth, “Over and over and over. Are you gonna come for me?”

“Yes, yes, God, yes, baby,” you can feel his pubic bone grinding into your clit, building your peak quickly, “Keep going— don’t, oh my God, don’t stop!”

“Wouldn’t dream— fuck, I wouldn’t dream of it, my love,” he sounds close to, giving you everything he has to make you tip over the edge a third time. He always tells you how much he loves you choking his cock until he spills inside of you.

So when you come, a hitched breath turning into a series of cries for God, he does too. It is two months of built-up tension and emotions, and you find yourself crying in his arms as waves of pleasure take hold of you and take you with them. You are gone, lost to the world of burning desire and ecstasy. 

After he pulls out of you, the sense of time is an unknown concept in the silence that follows. You cry quietly because nothing else can convey what you feel. After all, you feel so close to him again. Javier brushes each tear away with his thumb, murmuring soft and comforting words. 

“You did so good,” are the first words that actually make sense to you. He noses along your shoulder to kiss you there, “I don’t deserve you. You are the most beautiful woman in this world.”

You chuckle breathlessly but fresh tears just fall down your cheeks. Javier rolls off of you to make things less intense, looking at you from where he is lying on his side, “Don’t cry. There’s nothing to cry about. You were so beautiful.” 

“Sorry,” you say instantly and wipe tears away with the back of your hands. 

“No,” he objects, “That’s not what I meant.”

He is silent for a moment. Then he lays his palm on your stomach, “What do you need?”

“To pee and get cleaned up,” you feel embarrassed without knowing why, “My legs feel like jelly.”

“Fuck it, let’s see if mine do too,” he is on his feet before you can protest, telling you to scoot closer and when you do, he picks you up bridal style. 

He carries you to the bathroom, making a comment about your wedding night, and then lets you pee and wipes you down with a damp cloth afterward, both your sensitive cunt and breasts. You kiss him more times than you can count when he takes you back to bed again. 

In the morning, you watch him bounce Lucas in his arms when he thinks you are asleep. He is making funny faces and blowing raspberries on your son’s chubby cheeks, talking so gently that you can’t help but simply roll onto your other side, smile gently to yourself, and fall back into slumber.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[estrellami-1]

Anything

Trigger warning: discussions of death. Not a main character, but it does happen. Lots of angst. Lots of hurt/comfort. I’ll post it in the tags as well.

Steve has a problem.

It’s not a big problem, not really, but his brain won’t let it go and is making it a bigger deal than it really is.

Eddie won’t ride in his car alone.

With the kids, sure; he’ll practically dive into the backseat, noogie Dustin, generally make a nuisance of himself.

But if it’s just the two of them? If Steve insists on driving, Eddie will take his van. There’s no problem if Steve wants to ride with Eddie. But the other way around? Eddie riding with Steve? That doesn’t happen. And Steve has no idea why.

“Talk to him, Dingus,” is Robin’s advice. He’d flip her off, but unfortunately he thinks she’s right: this is something they’re gonna have to talk through.

So Steve pulls on his big-boy pants and marches himself to the Munsons’ trailer, knocking on the door and waiting expectantly.

He doesn’t expect Wayne, but maybe he should’ve, because that’s who answers the door. “Hi, Steve. You’re here for Eddie, I bet, he’ll be in his room.” He moves aside to let Steve in, and Steve thanks him after a second before moving down the hall to Eddie’s room.

He hears him before he sees him; or, more accurately, he hears his guitar. He’s playing the acoustic tonight, instead of his usual sweetheart, so Steve knocks instead of walking in like he’d usually do.

The guitar stops, and Steve hears it being put down, hears a heavy sigh. “Wayne, I’m not really in the- oh.” He opens the door as he speaks and blinks at Steve. After a second, he smiles. “Hey, man, c’mon in.”

Steve blinks. “Uh. Are you okay?” 

Eddie purses his lips. “Define okay. I’m not currently being eaten by bats, y’know? But playing the acoustic always reminds me of my Ma.”

“Ah.” Steve shifts. “Sorry, man. Maybe I should come back later.”

Eddie shrugs. “You’re here now, aren’t you? I can’t be that terrible company.”

Steve snorts. “No, I just… I had a question, but it can wait.”

Eddie tilts his head. “You do that a lot, y’know?” He turns, sits on his bed. Motions Steve into his room.

Steve sits next to him, more comfortable here than in his own room. “Do what?”

“Put yourself last.” He shrugs. “You can ask me. If I don’t wanna answer, I won’t.”

Steve scrunches his nose. “Okay, fine. Why won’t you ride in my car?”

Eddie frowns. “I do, though? Hell, I did what, two days ago? You, me and Dustin went to that comic store in Indy.”

“Okay, let me rephrase. Why won’t you ride passenger in my car, alone? Without any of the kids? And even two days ago you were in the backseat with Dustin.” He shrugs. “It’s not a big deal, I’m just curious.”

Eddie takes a breath. “No, it’s- yeah. You should know.” He clears his throat, grabs the acoustic again. Plays a riff of some sort, fingers dancing over the frets. “I think I feel like I have to save everyone. Or at least be in a position where I can save them, if the need arises.” He swallows, takes another breath. His fingers still. They tremble over the strings. “Did I ever tell you how my ma died?”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to inhale sharply. He shakes his head. “We can stop,” he says. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Eddie smiles ruefully. “I do, though.” He shakes his head. “I was… I was six. It was three days before my seventh birthday. We were driving home from the city. Ma was drivin’, an’ she let me sit in the front seat, since it was almost my birthday. Or- that’s what she said. I think it was so we couldn’t stop her. Couldn’t save her.” He swallows. His eyes are glassy. His accent is thick, the way it gets when he’s thinking about her, or when he’s emotional. His left hand grips the neck of the guitar tightly. Steve worries for his fingers. “We weren’t goin’ that fast, even, but forty’s enough when-” he shakes his head, looks away. Coughs out something that wanted to be a sob. Steve takes the guitar, takes Eddie’s hand. Puts the guitar down. Doesn’t let go of Eddie. “She unbuckled her belt. Dad didn’t see it. I did. Didn’t say anythin’. Maybe I should’ve, I dunno.” He squeezes Steve’s hand. “Then it all happened so fast… she smiled at me, an’ opened her door, an’ next thing I knew-” he wipes at tears on his cheeks. “D’you know what happens to a human head under the wheel of a car at forty miles an hour?”

Steve gasps, grips Eddie’s hand just as tightly. Pulls Eddie in when he begins to shake. “An’ I know why, now,” he whispers. “Dad weren’t good to her. I’unno what he done t’her. I know she did what she could. But I was there. I was right there.” He sniffles, trembles with the effort of keeping his sobs in. Somehow succeeds. “So that’s why. Figure if a kid were to try… I could stop ‘em. Figure if you were to try…”

“You could stop me.” Steve holds him tight. “I won’t,” he whispers. “I swear to you, I won’t.”

“I know,” Eddie whispers back. “But I gotta be able to try.”

“Christ, Eds,” Steve whispers. “I was gonna ask if you’re okay but that’s a stupid question.”

Eddie giggles, still teary-eyed. “Just a little bit.”

Steve pulls away to look him in the eye. “I’m staying tonight, okay? Nightmares are always worse after something like this.”

“Then you should go home,” Eddie argues. “Sleep while you can.”

“Nightmares are always easier with someone else.”

“Damn you, that’s true.” They both laugh a little.

Just then, Wayne comes in with two steaming mugs. “Listen to your boy, son,” he says to Eddie, handing over one of the mugs. He gives Steve the other with a wink. “Lavender tea with a shit ton of honey. Learned it from my ma.”

“Not my boy, Wayne,” Eddie grumbles, but thanks him for the tea anyways.

Steve thanks him too, and he winks again before leaving. Eddie rolls his eyes. “I’d apologize for him, but you’d just defend him.”

“Hey, I like Wayne.”

“I know. Sometimes I think you like him more than you like me.”

Steve chuckles. “Never. You’re my favorite.” He moves so they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, drinking their tea, leaning against each other. It’s peaceful, and soon enough Eddie’s yawning and dropping his head onto Steve’s shoulder. “Imma pass out soon.”

“Then let’s get you up to brush your teeth before you do.”

Eddie groans like the toddler he secretly is. “I don’t wanna.”

“Yeah, and you don’t wanna go to the dentist to get teeth pulled, either, now do you?”

“Shuddup.”

“Wow. Real master of words here. Really feeling that Dungeon Master power.”

Eddie thumps his arm, but snickers, and really that’s what Steve was going for in the first place, so he just smiles and leads Eddie to the bathroom.

Soon enough they’re in bed, tucked in next to each other, not quite packed like sardines and it’s only because of the heat outside that Steve isn’t more upset not to have more of a reason to touch Eddie. “Night, Eds,” he murmurs, smiling when Eddie rolls over to face him and is temporarily blinded by his own hair. Steve helps move his hair, grabs at Eddie’s hand when he’s done. “Wake me up if the nightmare doesn’t, okay?”

“C’mon, Steve, I can deal with them-”

“I know you can,” Steve answers. “But I want to be up if you are. I want to help if I can. Please, Eddie?”

Eddie sighs after a second. “Damn you,” he says, “I can’t say no to you.” He’s smiling, despite his words, so Steve smiles back.

“Thank you.”

“G’night, Stevie.”

“Night, Eds.”

Steve wakes up to Eddie crying out in his sleep. Even with his eyes closed, he’s got tears streaming down his cheeks. Steve sits up, turns on the lamp, and puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “Eddie?”

He rolls over, away from Steve, and continues sobbing. “Eds? Are you awake?” No answer, so Steve puts his hand back on Eddie’s shoulder and shakes a little. “Eddie, wake up!”

He’s up with an aborted yell and a flail of limbs, sitting up and staring into the darkness of his room, trembling. He sniffs and turns to face Steve, finally realizing he’s there, and Steve opens his arms for a hug.

He collapses into Steve’s arms, face mashed into the side of Steve’s neck, arms snaking around Steve’s torso to give an ineffectual tug. Steve takes the hint and inches closer until they’re practically hip-to-hip. “Y’wanna talk about it?” He asks. Eddie sniffs and shakes his head. “Y’want me to talk? To distract you?” Eddie nods. “Okay. Uh… I may have bitten myself in the butt with this one, ‘cause I’m not a great storyteller, not like you are, but did you know we actually met in middle school?”

No answer. “We did. Hawkins Middle was putting on its annual talent show. Now, back then, I was nobody. No one knew me, my name, my parents… nothing. I had one friend named Tommy, who I’d grown up with. Of course, you know him, and you know what happened between us, but he was my only friend back then. I didn’t tell anyone, but I signed up for the talent show. I didn’t even know what I wanted to do, I just knew I wanted to do something. I’ve always had a pretty decent voice, so I figured I could just sing, if I couldn’t figure out anything else to do. Knew I’d at least beat out Tammy Thompson.” He shifts so Eddie’s hair is no longer a choking hazard and pets his hand over Eddie’s head, doing his best to tame the wild curls. “So it’s the night of the talent show, right? And it feels like the whole school is there. I’m sitting backstage, peeking through the curtains, and am about to have my very first panic attack. Someone bumps into me and knocks me over. They tell me to watch where I’m going, even though I wasn’t moving. So now I’m on the ground, thinking about the crowd, and the noise is getting to be too much, and someone grabs my hand and it all… stops. Just like that. It’s silent, other than, like, a ringing sound in my ears. And this boy, the one who grabbed my hand, kneels in front of me, puts my hand on his chest-” Steve demonstrates, moving so he can grab Eddie’s hand and put it on his chest, just over his heart. “-and tells me to breathe with him. In, out. In, out. He raised his hand when we breathed in, and lowered it when we breathed out. In, out. In, out. And when my breathing’s calmed down, he tells me to name five things I can see. And you know what I said first?”

Eddie furrows his brows. “My… my hair?”

“Yup,” Steve nods. “But you’d just had it shaved off, so d’you know what I really saw first?”

“What?”

Steve giggles. “Your ears.”

Eddie groans and ducks his head, pressing his forehead into Steve’s chest. “Hated my ears.”

“I’m gonna say something that’s gonna sound mean, but is actually a compliment,” Steve warns him. “Your ears reminded me of Dumbo. I always loved that movie, the reminder that we don’t have to change who we are in order to be loved. That sometimes the things we hate most about ourselves, the things people tease us about the most, are actually the things that help us most, in the end.” He guides Eddie to lay down. “And I’m not saying your ears are what saved you. But I am saying they reminded me that everything, maybe, isn’t entirely hopeless.” He smiles, tucks Eddie’s hair behind his ear. Says, “I like your ears.”

Said ear burns red. “You’d be one of the few.”

“That’s okay.”

“What’s your thing? Your… ears?”

Steve hums. “Did you know I cried a lot as a kid? I was very emotional, very easily moved. My dad always hated it, so I learned to cover it up. But I think it’s what got me here in the end. I could’ve told Dustin I didn’t have time to help him, but I didn’t. I got roped into this whole mess, but it’s how I got to know him and the kids. It’s how I got to know Robin and you.”

Eddie smiles. “I’m glad you cried as a kid.”

Steve laughs. “Yeah. Me too.” He shifts, a little closer, a little more down the bed so their eyes are level. “D’you wanna talk about it?”

“There’s nothing I want less.”

“D’you think you can sleep?”

Eddie takes a breath. Steve feels the exhale over his cheek. “Maybe.”

“M’kay. Lemme know if you can’t.”

“Okay. I won’t.”

“Eddie.”

He giggles. “I’m kidding. I’ll let you know. I just… won’t stop talking at you until you answer.”

Steve hums, lets his eyes slip shut. “I’ll always answer.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, so soft. It makes something warm unfurl in Steve’s chest. “I know you will.”

Steve reaches out, squeezes Eddie’s hand in answer. Lets sleep drag him down the way it’s wanted to since he lay back down.

He doesn’t think about the fact that their hands are still clasped.

He’s the first one up in the morning, and he’s a little annoyed by it because they’d shifted during the night, so Steve is no longer facing Eddie.

His annoyance lasts for all of two seconds before he realizes there’s a warm weight behind him and over his hip, and he figures out it’s because Eddie is behind him, arm over Steve’s hip, fingers curled against the little bit of skin visible from Steve’s shirt riding up during the night.

Steve smiles, sighs, and lets his eyes sink shut again.

He doesn’t sleep, just kind of drifts, so he feels it when Eddie wakes up. He feels him tense in a stretch, feels his forehead press against Steve’s spine, feels his fingers curl farther into Steve’s stomach.

He feels Eddie wake up fully and realize the position he’s in. Feels him hum, then stiffen, slowly pulling away. Steve aches about it, but doesn’t move until he’s out of bed completely, taking the time then to roll over as if he’d just woken up. “M’rn’n,” he mumbles, not exaggerating the sleep-rough in his voice at all.

“Mornin’,” Eddie yawns. “How’d you sleep?”

Steve hums, stretches, sits up. “Think I should be asking you that.”

Eddie smiles. “I slept fine. Now how about you?”

“No more nightmares?”

“Not at all. Think you chased ‘em all away.”

“Good.”

“Steve.”

“What?”

“How did you sleep?”

“Oh. Fine. Great.”

Eddie hums, but takes his word for it, offers his hand to help Steve up, which he accepts.

“Can I ask you something that I’m pretty sure you’re not gonna want to answer?”

Eddie grins crookedly. “You can ask me anything, Stevie. If I don’t wanna answer, I won’t.” He sits back on the bed, next to Steve. “What is it?”

“What was your dad like?”

Eddie blows out a breath, looks away. “Jesus, first thing in the morning, too. Uh… y’know how you said your dad is a grade-A asshole?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. Last I heard, he’s in the state prison for the next… five? Ten? Years. I dunno, don’t really keep track. Was just little things at first, petty theft, then he got an ego and started stealing cars, met a guy who could clean ‘em, and he just…” he shakes his head. “Wayne says he got too big for his britches. I say he got what was coming to him. He tried to rob someone and it… didn’t go well. He got caught, the owner tried to scare him off, swung first, but it doesn’t matter who swung first when he’s dead and my dad was trespassing, right? Tried to say it was self-defense, but…”

“But he was trespassing,” Steve nods.

“Exactly. He got twenty-five for that, and it’s been… twelve years? So I guess he’s got… thirteen left. Not five or ten. Guess it feels like he’s been gone that long.” He sighs. “I went to live with Wayne before that, though… I had a friend, he was my best friend, and my dad… really didn’t like how close we were. Spit out a couple’a slurs, said something about sending me to a camp.” Steve’s breath catches. “I called Wayne that night. Poor guy drove that night, was there by… one in the morning? Picked me up and I’ve never looked back.” He shrugs, picks at his comforter. “Turns out Dad was right about me, but Wayne’s never had an issue, so.” He shrugs. His fingers belie his nerves.

“I think, if I were to ever tell my dad,” Steve says quietly, “a camp would be the least of my issues.”

Eddie’s fingers still for a second before continuing, not fidgeting quite as quickly as before. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t have to tell him.”

“I think I do, though.”

“How so?”

“He’s got this… way. Of just proving himself right, every time. It’s why I haven’t left yet. He always finds a way to twist it around and show me I can’t make it on my own. Not on my Family Video salary.”

Eddie hums. “Maybe not on your own,” he admits. “But with a person or two? There’s Family Videos in other cities. Ask to transfer. Robin’s been making noise about heading to Indy, right?”

“I think she just wants out of Hawkins, and Indy is the only feasible place to her.”

“Very understandable. Where would you go, Steve? If you could go anywhere?”

Steve sighs. “That’s the problem, though. I can’t leave the kids.”

Eddie chuckles. “I should’ve known. Then why not find a place in between? Maybe on the edge of town?”

“We’re still both on a Family Video salary. I don’t think even combined we could afford anything.” Steve tilts his head. “You said a person or two. Who’s the other person?”

“Ah,” Eddie says. “Well, not to come between the platonic soulmates, but I’m sure Wayne would love to have his life back.”

Steve snorts. “Robin loves you almost as much as I do, Eds, of course you’re welcome.”

Eddie ignores that, for the sake of his own sanity. “Well,” he says instead. “Maybe it’s time to take a crack at those newspapers Wayne’s been hoarding.”

“Maybe it is,” Steve says, a strange sort of smile playing across his lips. “And I can ask people. You’d be surprised at the amount of gossip I hear at work.”

“Oh, I believe it, trust me. Or are you forgetting I use to hang around Sam Goody?”

“Oh, god,” Steve laughs, “I had forgotten that, yeah.” He sighs. “D’you think we would’ve been friends back then? If we’d known each other?”

“I don’t think so.” Eddie chews at his bottom lip. “Not because of you, but because of me. I was still stuck in that high school hierarchal shit, y’know? I would’ve seen you as an asshole jock even though you weren’t anymore.”

“I think I’m still working on it.”

“I think we’re all working on being who we want to be.” He stands and offers Steve a hand up with a grin. “And y’know what helps with that?”

Steve chuckles, places his hand in Eddie’s. “What’s that?”

“Pancakes,” he says decisively. “C’mon, let’s go bully Wayne into making us some.”

“And by bully, you mean ask once.”

Eddie hums. “Same difference.”

He waltzes into the living room, arms spread wide. “Sir Wayne! Our visiting prince has requested pancakes this fine morn.”

Wayne squints at him. “I’m your king, dipshit,” he says, lip quirked up in a smile as he winks at Steve. “Make your own damn pancakes.”

“Wayne!” Eddie cries. “Betrayal! Betrayal of the highest order!”

“You’ll live,” Wayne deadpans. Steve giggles.

Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne. “Fine,” he says. “We will make our own. But there shall be no extra for you, sir!”

Following him to the kitchen, Steve says, “We’ll make extra.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Wayne returns, “but I’d ‘preciate it.”

In the kitchen, Eddie sighs with his head halfway in a cabinet. “Okay, so we don’t have mix.”

“That’s okay,” Steve says. “I can make them from scratch.”

“Or,” Eddie says, turning to Steve with a grin. “We can go out.”

“We could,” Steve allows. “But then Wayne wouldn’t get any.”

Eddie hops backwards onto the counter and leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Y’know how I said we wouldn’t have been friends if we’d met earlier?”

“Yeah.”

“It really would’ve been entirely my fault.” He sighs. “You’re just… so nice. And it would’ve been unbelievable, for me, because the Munson Doctrine dictates that all jocks are assholes and stay jockish assholes. I think what happened… had to happen, if we were gonna be friends.”

Steve worries his lip. “Then… is it bad if I say I’m glad it happened? If only for that reason?”

“Only if I’m also glad it happened, for that reason,” Eddie responds quietly. “Y’know the only other person I’ve told about my ma is Jeff?”

“I’m…” he pauses, scrunching his nose. “I wanna say I’m honored, but that sounds weird.”

Eddie chuckles. “I know what you mean, Stevie.”

Steve nods, and they stay there for a minute, looking at each other, until Steve looks away with a sigh. “Alright,” he says, pancakes?”

Eddie gusts out a sigh. “Please.”

Steve chuckles and shoves the flour towards Eddie. “Here. Two cups.”

Eddie frowns. “Only?”

“For now. We can always make more later if we need to.”

Eddie shrugs, but nods at Steve, as if deferring to his expertise. “D’you have eggs?”

“Uh.” Eddie checks the fridge, then the cabinet. “No, but we’ve got Spam?”

Steve snorts. “That works. Wanna cut up a can and fry it?”

“Works for me.”

And so they work, side by side, until breakfast is ready and they’re all three eating side by side.

After, Wayne stretches in his seat, glances at the clock, and mutters something underneath his breath as he gets up. “Thanks for breakfast, boys. Steve, you gonna be here for dinner?”

“Uh,” Steve says, glancing at Eddie. “Unless Ed kicks me out.”

“Never,” Eddie swears. 

“I’ll pick up burgers on my way back,” Wayne decides. “That work for you two?”

“Definitely,” Eddie nods.

“Sure. Thank you, Wayne.”

“Son,” Wayne starts, then shakes his head. 

Steve gets the message: he belongs here. His cheeks burn. “Thanks, Wayne,” he murmurs.

Wayne ruffles his hair as he passes.

“So,” Eddie asks, once it’s just the two of them. “Any plans for the day?”

Steve makes a face. “I gotta work at two, but I’m free till then.”

Eddie snorts. “Lemme guess, you’re working alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Well not today!” Eddie says brightly. “Why don’t I come with?”

Steve blinks. “Because… why would you?”

“Cause you’re my friend, Stevie. I wanna hang out with you but I can’t do that if you’re at work and I’m here.”

Steve snickers. “I guess we can talk about moving in together. Tuesdays are always the slowest day of the week.”

“Yeah! Wayne’s got the papers around here somewhere.” He trails off, looking around, then bounds over to the TV with a triumphant, “Ha!” He reaches into the crate the TV’s sitting on and pulls out a stack of newspapers. “Okay, we don’t want anything from last year… beginning of this year might be too old…” he hesitates, looking at Steve. “Maybe since Spring Break? A lot of people moved out.”

Steve hums, moves closer. “Good point. There’s bound to be something on the edge of town.” He sighs as he sits next to Eddie. “The only problem is Robin doesn’t have a car, or even her license. And if I’m working here, and she’s trying to work in Indy, how’s she gonna get there?”

“Well,” Eddie begins, “who says you have to stay at Family Video? Why not stretch your wings out? Try something else? Indy’s a big city with lots of opportunity. How about this.” He shifts so he’s facing Steve. “If you could do anything in the world, work anywhere, what would you do? Where would you work?”

Steve fidgets with his pant leg as he thinks. “A bakery,” he decides softly.

Eddie stills for a moment. “I feel like I should’ve seen that coming. You’d be a great baker, Steve. Or if you want to just sell the baked goods, you’d be great at that, too. Hawkins is small enough we don’t have need for a bakery. Not when you can get everything you need at Melvald’s. But Indy’s big. I pass by two bakeries every time I head into the city.” He puts a hand on Steve’s knee. “Stay at Family Video for now. But when we move, you can apply to those places. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve nods. He can feel his cheeks heating up, feel the excitement coursing through his body. “You really think I could?”

“Steve.” Eddie sighs. “I think you are so much better than you see. I think you can do anything.”

“I dunno about anything.” Steve ducks his head as he blushes. “But, uh. Thank you.”

Eddie smiles. “For?”

Steve looks up at him. His breath catches, for a second, at the look in Eddie’s eyes. He looks away with a shrug even as his cheeks heat up. “Believing in me, I guess.”

“Anything,” Eddie promises again.

Steve looks at him again. Really looks, even as his cheeks heat uncomfortably warm. “…Anything?”

Without looking away, Eddie grabs his hand. Rubs his thumb over Steve’s knuckles. Whispers it again.

Steve leans in and kisses him.

Eddie kisses back.

[weirdsht]

Hi! Good day/evening to you. Would it be alright if we get more of yan!cale? 😽 I read ur yan!cale stories and I deeply stand by you.

Overboard

notes: i'm not experienced with writing yanderes and I couldn't think of a specific scenarios so i went with this a short fic instead. If you have any scenarios in mind feel free to send them and i'll do my best to deliver!

tags: subtle yandere cale (tbh you have to squint huhu), established relationship, vague novel spoilers

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist

The clock strikes just after midnight. It was quiet as everyone had gone to their designated rooms to sleep.

Almost everyone that is.

Cale and Ron are still awake and talking. With the young master sitting on the couch and the servant standing up beside him as he reads the documents he has been given.

Usually, Cale would have been asleep long ago. At this time he would be cuddling with his significant other and the children averaging nine years old. In fact, he can hear the bed that’s just 10 steps away calling him already.

But alas he still has something to do.

“A viscount’s son huh? Where does he get the audacity to try and touch what’s mine?”

Ron stayed silent at his young master’s calm voice. Instead, he peeked at the document in Cale’s hand.

The document was something the servant had written himself. It consisted of every detail that happened when Cale’s significant other was away. Getting a much-needed vacation after being cooped up at the underground villa during the entirety of the war.

It consisted of places they went to. Things they bought. People they talked to. Even things they looked at for more than 30 seconds.

Every move they made was written in that document.

“Ron, everyone knows that the Henituse is a duchy now right?”

“Of course young master.”

“And everyone knows who my significant other is right?”

“Yes, young master. You are a famous figure in both continents, your significant other is bound to be known too.”

Usually, Cale would grimace at the thought of him being famous. But not right now.

“Then why would such a lowly noble like this trash here dare make a move on _____?”

“Some rabbits just don’t know the value of their lives, young master.”

Cale could feel his anger rising. However, he held it in. He can’t raise his voice right now. Not only was it late but _____ and the children were already asleep on the bed a few steps away from him.

Huuu

“I wanted for _____ to relax for once. The war was quite detrimental to their health.”

The young master sighed once more before fully calming down.

“You did a good job not letting that bastard go near them again after the 2nd time it happened.”

Ron flashed his usual benign smile at the compliment. Despite that, Cale could see in the old man’s eyes that he was not yet satisfied.

“Was _____ bothered that much?”

“Yes, young master. They felt distraught during the first two days of their vacation because of him.”

Ah, so that’s why Ron was still angry.

“Then I guess looting him dry won’t be enough. I’ll you handle the rest. Go do whatever will ease your heart. Just make sure to clean up afterwards.”

Molan’s last patriarch only bowed before going out of Cale’s room. The documents that Cale had been reading are in his hands, ready to be burned at the fireplace. Despite the lack of verbal response from the benign old man, Cale knows he will follow the orders given to him.

Which was why he could go back to bed with a lighter heart.

Meanwhile, the documents are now successfully fueling the fireplace of the villa. Ron watches the paper turn to ash. He oversees how the last thing that was burned was the description of the viscount’s son. Written below that was his offence.

His crime?

Trying to flirt with _____. Twice.

Even had the nerve to say a pickup line.

“Maybe I’ll let Choi Han handle him instead.”

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐎𝐟𝐟-𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 | 10-24

"We're partners."

Tags/Warnings: Police Officer!Jungkook, Dog Hybrid!Reader, Partners to lovers?, Alternate law-system/made up laws, crime, futuristic, sci-fi, body-modifications?, Fluff, romance, angst, medical themes, injuries

Length: 4.5k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

A/N: the fic was supposed to end with thispart, as there seemed to be no more interest for it, but I decided against it haha

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

You know your fate the moment you wake up.

From the apologetic looks of nurses to the sighs then leading doctor keeps making as he checks your reflexes- or lack thereof- you know that you’re done for. How will your life change? Will the carecenter at least be nice to you? How will you adapt?

Is Jungkook going to at least say goodbye to you?

You kind of.. Exist for an entire week in the hospital, not really interested in anything as they prepare you for your next surgery. Bodymods- Paid for by the government due to your outstanding work in the police force. It’s normal, a regular thing, you’ve heard about it all the time and you know somewhat that Jungkook was covered by the same program as you are right now- but Jungkook had had time to adjust. Hybrids, as far as you know, don’t get that time.

Because they take much longer to figure things out.

When you wake up after your surgery, you’re yet again alone. You see no familiar faces, only the nurses who keep trying to cheer you up, and you honestly feel bad for not reciprocating at least a smile every now and then. You feel horrible. Like a failure.

What’s going to happen to you?

It’s the day after your surgery, that something happens. Someone enters your room, and you believe it might be someone who’s been working with Jungkook recently due to his faint scent, maybe having been sent to give you some important notice or something- but when you turn around to look at who’s closing the door, bags rustling in his hand, you’re surprised to find Jungkook himself here.

“I’m sorry I only came now.” He apologizes quietly, putting the plastic bag down before he lets another black backpack slip from his shoulder down to the floor next to your bag. “There was.. Some stuff I had to take care of.” He says, and you nod, quietly.

Of course. He’s got to find a new hybrid now, after all.

“How are you?” He asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed near your legs, watching you. He looks tired- more exhausted than you are right now, clear fatigue on his face as he waits for an answer. You shrug, because that’s all you can offer. You’re physically doing good, surprisingly so according to the doctor who’s overseeing your condition, but mentally, you’re not sure. “You’ll be okay.” Jungkook offers, a hand on your leg feeling weird. You know its there, but its still an odd sensation.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

You stare at his hand on your leg, limbs tucked away beneath the blanket you’re sleeping under most of the time. “When will they pick me up?” You ask, and he frowns a bit, obvious sign of confusion on his side, before he realizes what you might be asking about. He shakes his head.

“They won’t.” He denies. “We’re partners, remember?” He offers, and you can’t help but feel your throat clog up and eyes sting as they fill with tears, forcing you to look away.

And then, he moves, gets up before he leans over the bed- hugging you close.

“We’re partners.” He whispers to you, while you can’t help but begin to cry- both in relief and also because he finally makes you feel safe enough to let it all out. “and we’ll stay partners.” He reassures you, hands softly holding you.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

It turns out that the reason Jungkook didn’t visit you for this long, was because he really did have to take care of stuff. That ‘stuff’ not actually being just finding a good place for your physical rehabilitation, but also adjusting his home so you can still somewhat move around freely. Everything is suddenly a lot more.. Open almost, not disconnected from you anymore. It feels like you’re actually supposed to live with him from now on, and not just alongside him any longer.

It’s odd.

Jungkook’s request for official ownership has been sent out despite the fact that he’s technically not yet eligible for it due to you both not having worked together for enough time. But he’s found a potential loophole, has made use of the fact that you got injured on duty and that he himself has to resign soon anyways- so with a bit of luck, and his good writing skills that described your situation and dedication towards your job in the past, he might just get it approved.

He hopes he will. He can’t imagine letting you go.

You’re on heavy medication, similar to how he used to be years ago when he got himself injured enough to require such a surgery. But bringing you back home into a familiar environment surely helped your sleep- your body knocked out on the couch with your legs close to his own. He’s watching TV when he notices them twitching while you dream- nerves still confused and healing as they adjust to the changes and new situation.

He’ll be there every step of the way- figuratively and literally.

Everyone wants to visit you- even Yoongi- but that’s too soon yet. Jungkook fears that it might overwhelm you to have people roaming around already, and also, he kind of wants to be selfish just for a little bit, and use this time to be for you who he’d wanted to be for so long. Not just a coworker- but a friend.

Because you deserve it.

His hand carefully help you turn onto your other side when you wake up itching to move into a new position to nap, and this time, you put your legs over his lap just to see what might happen. And he lets you, accepts them, even makes sure to try and comfort you when they begin to hurt a little later in the day. He doesn’t know if he will get the papers approved, but he also knows he’ll fight for it- so there’s no reason to keep you at an arm’s length anymore.

He can let you in.

Suddenly, you want to move again, whining for him to help once more as he makes sure not to cause you any harm as he helps you adjust your position once more. And as soon as he sits down again, a pillow of yours is slapped onto his lap, boldly so, before you pull yourself even closer, laying your head on his thighs. He’s got no choice but to lay one of his arms over your shoulder now, and you receive it well- even holding onto his hand in your sleep now, as he turns down the volume of the TV just a tad bit more so you can sleep better.

This is heaven to you.

This is who you would’ve loved to be- if your tail was working properly it would be wagging at a constant, heart warm at the way he finally offers so much gentle affection. You love your job- but you also love the idea of this maybe potentially being your future. Just a normal hybrid, nothing to fear, and nothing outstanding to expect from.

Just a normal life.

You turn around somewhat by yourself this time with some help of his to guide your legs, face now hidden in the soft fabric of his sweater, hands still holding his.

And he lets you.

Because, He honestly doesn’t want to let go either.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

Jungkook enjoys life like this- though he could most certainly do without you in a state of hurt and discomfort. The brace you wear currently for both your pelvis injuries and your new mods, so that they can heal properly and that the movement and possible disturbances are reduced to a minimum clearly limits your movement and makes you feel stiff- but its there to make sure you heal properly. You’re fidgety with it, and he knows you’re clearly not comfortable- but it’s necessary.

He’s trying hard to both distract you from it, and help you adjust to your new situation.

“See? You’ll get to swim a lot there.” He tells you, currently showing you the website of the rehabilitation place he chose. “I’ll be there too if you’d like. There’s trained people there too but-”

“I want you to!” You burst out, turning your head to look at him. “I’d.. Like if you’d go there with me.” You say more quiet now, noticing that he might not actually want that. What if he simply feels bad you got injured on a job with him? You never thought of this all potentially just being a fruit from his guilt and nothing more.

But be smiles, and nods, and maybe that’s enough for now.

“Listen..” He starts, closing the tab of the website for now to do something surprising- a gentle hug from where he’s got you sat on his lap, arms around you and chin on your shoulder, careful not to cause you any pain. “..even if it get’s declined, I’ll fight.” He says.

“Fight for what?” You wonder, and he’s quiet for a second, before he speaks again.

“Fight to stay at your side.” He mumbles. “They’re not taking you away from me like that. I know you want to stay, and you should have the right to do so no matter what.” He sighs.

“jungkook..” you start, unsure what to really say. He’s right that you want to stay with him, but does he know why? Your reasoning might not be what he thinks, considering he never really gave you any hint as to how he feels about you. You’ve got a crush on him basically- wouldn’t that make living here together make it unbearable for him? “I’m scared.” You admit.

He turns towards you right away.

“of what?” He worries, not sure what your problem is. Maybe the incident had left you with some more psychological trauma as well?

“..the future.” You say. “I don’t.. I don’t know if living here is such a good idea.” You tell him, and at that he becomes a bit nervous. You don’t know he has some deeper feelings for you. He’s kept it quite secret from you after all- so you don’t know. Right?

“What do you mean?” He asks back, eye contact not as strong as before.

“I don’t think I can.. What if you want to live with someone?” You ask, shrugging. “What if you.. Find someone you like, then what?” You worry.

“I won’t ever like someone as much as you.” He simply sighs, a bit relieved and hopeful he’s interpreting your words correctly. And from the way you look at him full of wonder, he knows he is- which makes him visibly relax now as he watches you. “I think.. As weird as it might sound..” He starts, shrugging as he helps you adjust your position a little, making sure your brace is still properly placed. “I always believed that we meet people for a reason. That I.. that we always got the jobs we did for a reason.” He explains. “From the little girl we found when she ran off a few years back, the veteran we made sure was safe when he was having a flashback, or even that last one.” He sighs. “I think, just maybe, things happen for a reason.”

“I like the idea of that.” You say, leaning into him to rest your head against his shoulder. “It sounds better than.. Having to accept that people are sometimes just plain evil.” You say, and he can pretty much feel you not only physically leaning into him-

But emotionally as well, as you relax in his hold.

“Hey, kook?” You wonder quietly, and hems his answer to you. “can you leave your.. room open, maybe?” You ask, and he nods.

“Of course.” He tells you. “I can also.. sleep in the living room. So you can see me when you keep your room door open- just in case you need something.” He offers, but you fidgety again.

“I kind of.. it’s not for that.” You deny. “just.. if we live together now.. “ you mumble, unsure how to say it, before you take a deep breath and rush it out before you can chicken out again. “I don’t wanna sleep alone anymore!” You say, eyes closed as you wait for the inevitable.

But instead, he just hugs you again, and softly laughs.

“Alright.” He simply agrees. “You could.. also just sleep in my room. My bed is big enough, after all.” He offers, and you turn around to look at him.

“wait- really?” You ask, and he nods.

“Really.” He nods, and at that, you both notice something remarkable happening.

Because despite everything you’ve both been told, and even though it’s very uncoordinated and weak-

Your tail starts to wag again.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

Despite Jungkook not getting proper rest due to you turning and waking up so much during the night, he still enjoys having you so close these days.

You often wake up sore or with pins and needles in your leg- most of the time just one, but sometimes, like tonight, it’s both. He’s tired, but he pushes through that as he helps you get through those tough episodes of your healing process, having given you your medication, before he began running his fingers and hands over your legs like he’s been taught at the hospital to help circulation.

He’s yawning, and so are you just seconds later. It’s a hard time for both of you- but you’ve got each other, and that makes it a lot more manageable.

And right now, after you’ve caught up on some of the lost sleep with a good nap on the couch in the living room, you’re floating in water with Jungkook holding your shoulders so your head doesn’t accidentally dip beneath the surface. He’s listening to the instructor while you do the same, moving your legs a lot more easily this way, as you work up your strength again with the aid of the pool you’re in. And, in a way, it’s also partially a good way to bond with Jungkook- at least in a more personal way compared to before. And you know that it’s more than just friendship- he’s clear in that department, just simply moving it slow, most likely until he knows if he can live with you permanently or not.

Which makes sense. He probably doesn’t want to make you feel worse than you have to if he doesn’t get it approved after all.

Still, you let yourself enjoy this made up dream for as long as it lasts. “You’re adapting a lot faster than other hybrids.” The instructor comments, watching how you kick the water the way he told you to- not very strongly, and a little uncoordinated, but there’s clear control over your legs. “I’m very sure you’ll be just fine by the end of the year.” He says, making you proudly look up at Jungkook, who smiles encouragingly.

You can take as much time as you need- he doesn’t mind one bit.

“I saw you had mods as well?” He asks Jungkook, who nods. “that’s good. A lot of the things you went through will most likely help her too in her recovery.” He informs him, and Jungkook smiles down towards you. “But it’s a good sign that she’s in such high spirit. Usually, hybrids tend to become very shut off and withdrawn, especially former police hybrids. It’s good that she’s got emotional support as well.” He comments, making your tail wag again beneath the water surface.

“well, she deserves it all.” He says, looking down at you with a fond smile-

And you feel like he really means it.

Later, you’re both stopping at a park just to unwind, but you don’t want to really get out of the car at all. The sight of all the people playing around, children running, hybrids having fun, just makes you feel way too melancholic. You’ll most likely never have this again. You’ll never be able to run like that ever again, no matter how hard you try. From now on, you’ll always have to be careful, always have to keep in mind not to overdo it, always have to make sure you’re not pushing any limits you now have.

Jungkook sighs. He’s most likely at a loss on what to do as well- and even if he was to ask you, you’re not sure if you could even tell him what could make you feel better.

“Here.” He suddenly says, catching your attention again as you’re sitting in the open trunk with him, watching the people at the park before you look at the phone he’s showing you. His phone- and there’s a video playing.

It’s him- he has a bit less tattoos clearly, and his hair is a lot longer, pulled back into a tiny little ponytail while he’s holding onto two bars set up at the sides. He’s unsteady, a lot of medical tape covering his back and neck, while he holds onto the bars for dear life, taking step after step in a hardly coordinated way. He’s concentrated, clearly.

“It took me months to take those steps.” Jungkook explains, swiping away into his gallery again to find other videos and images he shows you. “And at first, I really thought ‘that’s it’. I believed I’d have to just resign and accept the fact that I’m going to have to rely on help for the rest of my life.” He tells you, letting you scroll through the videos yourself. “But I got back up. It just took a little time.” He tells you.

“But that was you.” You disagree, giving him his phone back. “What if I can’t do that?” You worry, and he just reaches over to pull you into his side, running his hand up and down your arm in comfort.

“Then I’ll carry you anywhere you want to go.” He reassures you. “I’ll be your legs.”

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

“Is there a reason you’re carrying her around?” Seokjin asks, watching you sit in the middle of the police headquarter’s training grounds, while Yoongi plays simple tug-of-war with you. Everyone can see that while he doesn’t outright show it, he is a lot gentler than he would usually be.

“She hates the wheelchair.” Jungkook sighs, sitting at the sidelines with his coworker. “And she’s still too weak to use crutches. So I carry her.” He shrugs, making Jin nod.

“Will she even ever walk again?” Taehyung curiously asks, not even aware that the question could hit a nerve for Jungkook- though he takes it lightly.

“She will.” Jungkook says with a final tone to it, shutting every different thought about the situation down. And he also makes it clear that he doesn’t allow any other opinion about it- or at least doesn’t want to hear it. He knows there’s a possibility you might not recover as well as he did, after all, hybrids tend to statistically have a harder time adapting to modifications than humans do. But Jungkook believes in you.

He knows if he doesn’t, you will stop believing in yourself as well.

He hears his name being called instantly and gets up even faster, as if his body reacts earlier than his brain can comprehend what he heard, walking towards you who’s still sitting in the grass outside. “She’s tired.” Yoongi chuckles from the side, leaving the toy in your lap as you hold onto the long bunny.

“I’m not.” You defend yourself. “But I.. do wanna go home for now.” You say, and Jungkook nods.

“Alright then. Up you go.” He jokes, as he positions himself in front of you for you to climb onto his back, so he can carry you out of the building and back into the car that you both take to drive back home. Only once you’re back in your bed is when you finally reveal to Jungkook why exactly you wanted to go home so suddenly.

“..can you maybe give me one of those painkillers?” You wonder quietly, and Jungkook nods, fetching your medication for you together with a bottle of water.

“I had them with me, you know?” He says as you take them, clearly in pain by now from the way you seem so stiff in your movements. “It’s not bad at all to admit when you’re hurting.”

“I know..” You mumble defeated. “I didn’t want Yoongi to feel bad or something. I had fun.” You say, and Jungkook smiles.

“I’m glad you did. But don’t overdo it.” He teasingly scolds, putting your water to the side for now. “You wanna nap alone, or should I stay?” He asks, and you look up at him hopefully. “Alright alright.” He laughs, easily able to interpret your subtle body language into proper answers by now. You instantly cling to him, bolder than ever before, and he’s a little suspicious about it. “You’re pretty cuddly today.” He comments, and you nod.

“Shouldn’t I be?” You wonder. “Do you not like that?” You ask, and he immediately denies that claim right away.

“No, I love it. It’s just sudden, that’s all.” He shrugs off, helping you adjust your position a little to lay even closer to him.

“I just don’t want to.. waste time. You know. If we do end up being unable to live together.” You mumble into his chest. “I don’t want to.. have to regret not using my time with you good enough, you know?” You explain, and he nods.

He understands this. After all, your words hold a lot of true meaning in them.

But for now, you both can pretend. That nothing is wrong, that you’re just two people, that you have all the time in the world.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

“I came as fast as I could. What’s wrong?” Jungkook worries, having left you at your physical therapy place for now when he’d gotten the text from Seokjin, who made sure to emphasize how urgently jungkook was needed.

“You might want to read this.” Seokjin says, handing him a letter that the younger officer opens to unfold it, and read what it’s about.

He has to sit down.

Letting it all sink in, Jungkook just sits in silence for a good moment, as he sets the letter down on the small plastic table that he sits at. “Yoongi is actually pretty upset over it.” Seokjin admits. “That’s why he’s not here today. He just doesn’t want to hear any of it.”

Yoongi has had a bit of a tough time bonding with you at first, as far as Jungkook knows. Yet over the course of time, you two had bonded very closely, like two pups of the same litter so to speak. He’d watched over you, had always made sure you’d feel included and valued even when you struggled at first to really find your place. And when you were paired with Jungkook, and that whole fiasco went down, Yoongi had been there too- to make sure you know that everything’s going to be alright.

And now, that all ends. Not right away- but it will.

Later, as he brings you home, he’s not sure how to really break those news to you. He doesn’t know how you’ll react to it, what you think about it- but he also knows that you’re already aware that something’s off about his behaviour. You’ve been trained to sniff out such things after all.

And you’ve always been damn good at your job.

You finished eating your dinner, when Jungkook presents the letter to you- having you read it, and make up your own mind about the contents of it. “I don’t.. Really understand.” You admit, giving the letter back to him. “What does that mean?” You ask with worry- which he understands fully. It is also worded quite complicated, so he doesn’t blame you for having trouble interpreting it all.

“Remember how I filed in for official ownership?” He asks, and you nod. “Well, it neither got denied, nor approved, basically.” At that, you tilt your head a little, confused. “Once you’re rehabilitated enough to return to basic service, we will basically resume our jobs until I fulfilled my time before retirement.” He explains, as you listen. “And then, they’ll transfer me to you, basically.”

“So, right now, I’m still belonging to the.. Police?” You wonder, still not quite getting it.

“No. Right now, you’re fully under my care, until you’re healed enough to get back to work. At least for regular patrol.” He tries again to make it even simpler to understand. “Once you do, we both resume work, until I have fulfilled enough time to retire since my mods prevent me from continuing service.” Jungkook says. “Right now, we’re basically on pause. Once we’re back in service, we work together until I retire together with you. And you’re automatically transferred under my name.”

“So.. Right now, we’re just.. Making sure I heal, and then we just get back to work? Until we both retire again in a year?” You ask, and he laughs, nodding.

“Essentially, yeah. It’s pretty complicated, but I guess it’s protocol.” He laughs.

“But that means.. We can’t be together anymore. Until we retire.” You worry.

“Not really. We can still be together, openly, as long as it doesn’t interfere with our work. You’ll have to take a test basically, and when you pass it, we’re good to go.” He explains.

“So.. I’m not useless?” You ask, and Jungkook’s face instantly falls.

“What? You were never useless, what do you mean?” He worries, pulling you closer to hug you. “What made you think that?”

“Because I can’t even walk right now. I can’t do anything.” You huff, clearly still upset with yourself.

“You can. And you’ll get better soon, promise.” He says. “They already praise you for your quick progress. They don’t just lie and say that to everyone, trust me!” He reassures you, while you cling closer to him. “For now, lets just enjoy the time we have. This isn’t a final decision yet, so there might even be a chance they decide otherwise and just let go of the year missing entirely.” He tells you, as you sigh.

“But we’ll stay together?” You ask, and he nods, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours with a smile.

“We’ll stay together.” He tells you.

“We’re partners after all.”

[missaengg]

Between Two Villains

Day 26 of Kinktober: Visions of Temptation hosted by @xxsycamore found here Featuring: Ikemen Villains | Ellis Twilight x Jude Jazza x f!reader Tags: mdni, smut, pwp, threesome - f/m/m, oral sex, spitroasting, cum swallowing, p in v sex Prompts: Spitroasting | “Oh, you'll regret letting me know that you like this.” A/N: I’ve been wanting to write this ever since the Between Two Villains event. While I don’t think Jude would be willing to ever have a threesome, especially with Ellis, it doesn’t hurt to dream about being sandwiched between your two villain faves, right? 🙃 ao3 link here.

They’re so close… You can feel the sweltering heat of their bodies smothering you like the stifling humidity of a hot, muggy summer day.

The bed’s wide enough to fit three adult bodies comfortably, but Jude insists on sleeping in the center of the King size bed, there’s no way he’ll scoot over to give you more space, and Ellis is acting like your bodies are glued together.

You groan, feeling your body temperature rise from the heavy comforter and the two men pressing into your sides. While the mission has been completed successfully, the assassination on the Queen’s life thwarted and those involved taken into custody, it’s the middle of the night. All that’s left to do is sleep, but…

Do they have to insist on sleeping in your – the Queen’s – bed?!

The heat is suffocating, though some of it may be due to the proximity of the two men sharing your bed.

“So damn warm… Feels like you’re burnin’ up with a fever,” Jude grumbles from next to you.

You want to scream then move, but you refrain because knowing Jude, he’ll just shove you further into Ellis – who’s curled around you like a clingy cat nuzzling his sweet, innocent face into your shoulder – and take up more space like the twisted villain he is.

“She’s warm, and she feels good… Hey, why won’t you hug me back?” Ellis asks.

Even if you want to, you can’t move, sandwiched so tightly between the two of them you can’t even properly breathe. You keep your eyes trained on the ceiling because if you turn either way, you’ll be embarrassingly nose-to-nose with one of the two members of Crown.

Your cheeks flush from the relentless heat and the absolute ridiculousness of your current predicament.

“Heh… What’s with the red cheeks? What kinda indecent thoughts are ya thinkin’?” Jude jabs you with his elbow, and though you can’t see him, you just know he’s smirking that sadistic little smirk of his.

Trust Jude to find a way to make this even more awkward.

“Aren’t you the indecent one, climbing in someone else’s bed?” you shoot back.

“Not me. What kinda villain’d do such a thing, huh?”

Ugh.

“Oh, do you want to do something indecent? Sure, what would you like?” Ellis eagerly jumps into the conversation having completely missed Jude’s sarcasm.

“What?!” Your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. Out of all the Crown members who are likely to even make such a lewd suggestion – aka almost all of them – you never expect Ellis of all people to make it.

Ellis looks at you earnestly as he asks that outrageous question, but your look of disbelief and bewilderment is lost on him as he continues.

“Maybe you’d prefer doing it just with Jude? Or with both of us?”

You can hardly believe what you’re hearing, what he’s suggesting. It’s the first time you’re hearing him suggest something so immoral, other than insinuating he’ll kill you when you’re at your happiest, which honestly just seems like a side effect of his Curse.

“Oi, quit draggin’ me into this mess,” Jude says. “If ya wanna do it, go ahead. I’ll just watch. That’s what you’re into anyway, ain’t it?”

“Really? Hm, if you insist,” Ellis hums.

Your face is growing hotter and hotter as the conversation progresses. Not only do they barge into your bed after catching the assassin, now they’re talking about such illicit things like you’re not even present!

“Would you please get out of my bed and sleep in your own rooms?!” You want to hide under the covers from the awkward humiliation, but also to conceal the strange flutter of excitement stirring within you, especially from Jude.

“But I’m too worried to leave you alone,” Ellis sweetly protests, as Jude quips, “Bed here’s comfy so I’ll pass.”

Technically, Jude is right. The Queen’s bed is the most comfortable bed you’ve ever slept in. The mattress is plush, stuffed with the highest quality down, and the blankets are soft, made of the highest quality fabric, but…

“Ugh, honestly!”  You’re too tired to deal with this… blissful indecency and arrogant selfishness, and you decide to give up on trying to get them to return to their rooms. “Fine, just stay here then. Good night!”

You pull the covers up all the way over your head blocking them from view. It’s clear they won’t leave, and you have no choice, but to try and get some sleep – if you can get any sleep, the tingling sensation taking residence in between your thighs likely to keep you up for some time.

“Oi, why’re ya tryin’ to sleep like a damned corpse?” 

“She’s hiding, now I’m sad…”

Jude scathingly grumbles, and Ellis whines. Ellis shifts away, finally giving you some space, and you sigh in relief, but your relief is short-lived when Ellis joins you under the covers.

“Hey, this mission was hard for you, right? I can make you feel good, if that’ll make you happy.”

Ellis’s suggestion is tempting. So very tempting. Your thighs rub together unintentionally, trying to relieve the tension that’s building from what his soft, melodic voice is whispering in your ear.

You realize the movement isn’t lost on Jude when he clicks his tongue and mutters, “Knew it. Nasty woman,” under his breath with a hint of what sounds like amusement.

Great, just… great.

It’s so dark under the covers, you can’t see Ellis, but you feel his large hand slip under the Queen’s silk nightgown you’re wearing, reaching until he’s cradling your bare breast in his palm.

“You’re so soft,” he whispers.

He kneads the soft tissue, brushing his thumb against your firm nipple. His other hand comes behind your head, guiding you to him, and he gently captures your lips in a series of feathery kisses.

Your head protests at how inappropriate this is… You’re in the Queen’s bed wearing the Queen’s nightgown, but Ellis’s kisses are so sweet and so tender your body’s betraying you, and you’re melting into his tall frame.

“The covers are too heavy, aren’t they? I’ll remove them for you.”

Your eyes snap wide open. Pushing the covers back will mean Jude can see what Ellis is doing, what you’re doing, how exposed you are with the nightgown bunched around your chest. Before you can even speak, Ellis is already lifting the covers, and you can feel Jude’s piercing amethyst eyes boring into the back of your head, judging the living fuck out of you, but your mind goes blank when Ellis recaptures your lips with his. His fingers are doing things to your breasts that make you shiver and moan and want more, more of his honeyed touch.

Jude shifts from behind you, and you realize with a start he’s groaning – groans you assumed were coming from Ellis – and… Was he stroking himself?! 

The idea of Jude getting off on watching you and Ellis is thrilling. You throb at the thought, thighs clamping tightly together, rousing tremors vibrating throughout your hot, bothered body.

A cold hand – which can only be Jude’s as Ellis’s burn – slithers up your quivering thigh. His hand is like ice on your flaming skin, a welcome respite from the inferno you’ve turned into. His finger hooks into your underwear and pulls it down in one swift movement before probing your slick crease and circling your aching clit.

Your hips violently jerk when he slips two fingers in.

“Naughty princess,” Jude snickers. 

Your cheeks burn, but Jude curls his fingers, and the moment he does you’re moaning. His fingertips caressing that heavenly spot has you arching your back and curling your toes, and you’re writhing from the hot and cold hands exploring your wretched body. You reflexively push your hips back against Jude, silently begging for him to go faster… deeper… Between Ellis and Jude, you’re losing control, caught in an overwhelming whirlwind of lips and digits and limbs. 

Ellis notices Jude’s entrance and pulls away from his quest to conquer your lips. “Oh, Jude. Do you want to go first or should I?”

“Tch… I’m already down here, ain’t I?”

Jude snakes his arm around your waist and fluidly pulls the two of you up until you’re bracing yourself on all fours. Ellis warmly smiles, slipping out of his clothes and re-positioning himself by your head.

His erection stares at you imploringly.

And what a pretty erection it is… His cock looks just like him. Tall, slender, pleasantly safe yet enticingly manly. 

“I want to feel you. Can I feel you?” Ellis innocently asks, and you’re so mesmerized by how alluring he looks, you lick your lips and part your mouth, curious as to how he’ll taste. Ellis takes that as an invitation and pops his twitching member into your waiting mouth.

He tastes salty. Pleasant. His fragrant musk overtakes your senses, and you swirl your tongue around his smooth tip, eagerly bobbing lower and lower down his shaft until he’s tickling the back of your throat, and Ellis is closing his eyes with a blissful, dreamy sigh.

You hear rustling from behind you – Jude removing his clothes. Something long and firm slides through your folds, probing your inner lips and coating itself in your syrupy arousal. He sinks in without warning – not that you expect anything less from him – and you lustfully whimper as Jude buries himself to the hilt. 

“Foolish lil bird…”

He’s stretching you deliciously open, the friction of his cock in you electric. While Ellis is allowing you to take the lead, Jude is bullying your dripping cunt, grasping the sides of your hips in a bruising, vice-like grip. He callously pounds into you like a madman, almost as if he’s punishing you for your depravity, and the dichotomy of their demeanors muddles your hazy mind into a torrential, dizzying spin. 

“Ngh… you feel so… so nice…” Ellis breathlessly rasps. His fingers tangle themselves in your hair, jerking uncontrollably as your mouth works its sinful magic sucking along his full length.

The room fills with the sounds of your desperate moaning, Ellis’s ragged gasping, Jude’s angry grunting, and a degenerate, wet squelching, a cacophony of debauchery.

You’re drowning, caught in roiling, turbulent waves violently crashing against the shore of your inflamed body, but you want – no, need – more. You can’t tell up from down, but it’s not enough, and before you know it, your trembling finger is reaching for your clit.

“Whaddya think yer doing, huh?” Jude growls. “If ya wanted me to torture ya some more, all ya had to do was ask.”

There’s a dark, twisted edge to his words, and he forcefully shoves your hand away. His arm wraps around your waist for leverage so he can continue furiously rutting into you while his other hand finds its way back to your swollen pink nub. His movements are rough, but they only add to the storm brewing in your center. Jolts of lightning course through your veins.

You’re teetering on the edge, one tiny push of pleasure away from falling.

“Mmm… I–I’m close… I…” Ellis tenses in your mouth. His breathing is labored, needy whimpers humming in his throat.

Ellis looks absolutely breath-taking. A rosy flush covering his cheeks. Sweat beading along his brow. Unruly, wavy hair sticking to his forehead. Twilight eyes fluttering closed. A pretty, pouting mouth dropping open.

He’s beautiful.

“Catch me in your mouth, okay?” Ellis’s voice cracks as he pleads achingly, and before you can make sense of what he’s asked, he pulls taut, passionately crying out your name and feverishly convulsing, spilling onto your tongue.

You swallow rapaciously, milking every last drop out of his spasming cock. He tastes bitter, salty, and sweet, and you don’t want to miss a single drop.

The taste of him… the sound of his ecstatic cries… the daze of his glazed-over eyes push you over the edge, and you fall, careening into a deep abyss. Your fingers curl desperately into the sheets, your vision explodes with stars, and staggering shockwaves rip through you so ferociously, you’re blinded. You tremble and quiver and shake, and you clamp down around Jude so hard, he hisses savagely.

You don’t know whether you should scream ‘Ellis’ or ‘Jude’, but your mind is so addled, it doesn’t matter, and you’re only capable of deliriously mewling instead.

As the tension leaves your body, you dissolve into a puddle of rapturous exhaustion. Your arms can no longer support you on their own, and Jude’s hold around you is the only reason you haven’t crumpled into an unraveled mess.

Ellis soothingly runs his slender fingers through your hair, delicately stroking your scalp with his fingertips, mumbling sweet nothings in your ears while Jude nips your neck and sneers…

“Oh, you’ll regret letting me know that ya like this.”

You barely register the promise of torment laced under Jude’s sinister words or Ellis gently pulling out of your slack mouth and switching places with Jude, your trance breaking only when Jude looms inches away from your face. Something wicked gleams in Jude’s eyes, complementing the arrogant smirk splayed on his lips.

“Hope yer ready, Princess, cause I ain’t gonna be so gentle with ya.”

You shudder. The threat of his words aren’t lost on you, and as Ellis slowly slides into your abused cunt and Jude abruptly shoves his cock between your parted lips, only one thought runs through your mind…

It’s going to be a long night.

[ivymarquis]

Hi loves 💕💕 I saw requests are open so I figured I'd send one in! I absolutely love your work you're so talented and I binge read all of your fics!!

I would like to request fem reader x soap where Soaps wife adopted a dog she found on the streets and keeps her even though he hates the idea.( he has a cannon fear of dogs which I find a little funny) slowly but surely he warms up to the dog but not fully. While he's out on a mission there's a robbery and the dog protects the reader and scares off the intruder. Soap hears about this and is instantly is best friends with the dog because even though he hates dogs he loves that the pup will protect his wife (I also hc that mabey it's not a street dog but a retired k9 reader adopted to feel safe while he was gone and she just didn't tell him until he comes home and sees a dog. it's up to you what you pick💓)

Hello anon I appreciate your patience!! I did pick and choose a wee bit to make the fic make sense for me, I hope you like it!

The Exception to the Rule

Pairing| Soap x Reader Rating| T Word Count| 1.9K Content/Warnings| Housekeeping first- this fic is SFW so if you find it in the tags I won’t be bothered about minors reading it but I am an MDNI blog and I will block any minors or ageless blogs who follow me. Got it? Cool. The author is an American attempting to write a Scottish accent, likely inaccuracies about how military dogs in general or bomb dogs in specific work. Allusions to prior animal injury, allusion to potential dog choking (in the context of choking off a working dog who won’t release its quarry), allusion to home invasion, dog bites, Johnny is not happy, the author does not condone getting animals you know your partner has issues with (but the plot necessitates it so on we go!)

Soap knows his wife well enough to know when she’s taken a “ask for forgiveness rather than permission” course of action. It’s written all over her face when she accepts his FaceTime call and answers his greeting of “What did ya dae, hen?“ with a “Please don’t be mad.”

Now certain men might have to worry about their brides stepping out on them on deployment. Soap knows her well enough to not even entertain that notion, so the wheels start turning for what exactly she could have done that has her looking this guilty out the gate.

The answer comes very suddenly in the form of a bark on the other end of the screen.

John Soap MacTavish sputters, something he is not often inclined to do, “Is that a fuckin’ dog?” And not just a dog. That wasn’t a little yappy fluffball who can be picked up with two fingers if need be. It sounds like one of the damn bomb dogs always yapping over in the kennels.

“Please don’t be mad!” She pleads again.

“Well a’m not happy, that’s for sure. Where and why did ye git that thing?”

This is completely out of character for her. Soap’s disdain for dogs (and why) is well known. She bloody well knows. So what the hell?

“It’s not permanent! You said this deployment would be a long one, and there’s been break ins in the neighborhood and I got nervous and my friend told me about this rescue group that helps rehome retired military dogs.” Her explanation is all in one breath. “They approved us” (Us??) ”as a foster family. He’s already got applications in for a permanent home. It just feels,” she pauses to catch her breath, and Soap can feel himself softening ever so minisculely to the dog- as long as he’s on the other side of the world, away from it, “safer here, with him here since you’re gone. The break ins have been really scary, they haven’t caught the guy yet.”

Fucking hell how is he supposed to argue with that? Especially if there’s some prick on the loose breaking into houses.

“Cujo better nae be oan th’ bed wi’ ye,” he grouses, acquiescing while still making his displeasure known.

“His name is Kabar and I’ll have the bed freshly stripped when you’re due back I promise.”

Soap is a god damn sucker for those pleading doe eyes, giving a big exasperated sigh to signal he’s letting her off the hook. “Fine. Bit he better be gaen by th’ time I pull intae th’ driveway. Let’s see th’ damn thing then,” Christ he hopes it’s not a Belgian Malinois. He knows they’re popular for military dogs but his darling is not built to handle a maligator, retired or not.

“Okay hang on,” she replies, notably cheerier as she taps the screen.

It’s a German Shepherd, thank fuck (Johnny must be having a stroke to be grateful for the sight of a German Shepherd in his bed)

He knows as well as anyone else they can be intense, but they’re a step down from the Malinois at least.

The coloring is traditional, but Soap’s brain starts nudging him that something is wrong with the dog. It takes a moment to click before he realizes the problem.

The damn dog only has three legs. “Is he a tripod?” The question is out before he can stop himself because no he is not inquiring about the damn dog. It was just a thought that escaped.

“He is a disabled veteran!” His bride corrects cheekily, before much more solemnly adding “He was a bomb dog.”

Oh Christ. He did not need to know that. Doesn’t need to think about the damn animal waking up one day with four legs and clocking in to work with his handler before boom.

“A’m only entertaining this because of the break ins, hen, am ah clear?”

Maybe having that booming bark rattling the windows will keep any would-be intruders at bay. This is the worst part of the job- being stuck on what might as well be the other side of the world when she’s got something to deal with.

“Absolutely crystal clear!” She’s all too agreeable, pleased as hell to have her cake (the dog) and eat it too (Johnny tolerating it).

Somehow this is going to blow up in his face and he’s going to permanently end up with a fucking military dog he doesn’t want, he just knows it.

But there’s no fucking way he can tell her No. Absolutely not. He goes back today, with a potential threat lurking around the neighborhood. He’d never forgive himself.

The rest of the conversation is much more in line with what he usually anticipates with their phone calls being- He doesn’t much like talking about work off the clock although lets her know of any interesting shenanigans around the base, and listening with baited breath as she regails him of tales both extraordinary and, well, extra ordinary.

Usually their phone calls end when she passes out in bed, and they’re perfectly poised to continue that habit tonight also.

“Ye made sure all th’ doors and windows are locked, hen?” He asks as she starts snuggling into the bedding underneath her.

“Yeah Johnny, I,” she cuts herself off with a big yawn “-I double checked them.”

It’s a few minutes later that the phone slips from her hand, camera pointing at the ceiling as she drifts off.

Johnny can almost imagine he’s at home laying on his back, watching the rhythmic movements of the ceiling fan in time with his lovely girl snoring slightly in his ear (despite her verbose protests that no she doesn’t snore- okay. Whatever you say, gorgeous.)

It’s an incredibly comforting moment that lets him feel a bit closer to home that is ruined by the sound of snuffling by the speaker.

The dog’s nose appears on screen, the angle making him look like an aardvark as he sniffs the phone before laying down, presumably relishing in the fact there’s not a damn thing Soap can do about this situation.

“Ye better keep an eye oan my girl, Cujo.” Soap grumbles as he begrudgingly hangs up the phone.

The mission ends quicker than expected- substantially quicker- and as content as Soap is with getting home he also is annoyed.

The mission got cut so short, and it’s so damn late by the time Soap is driving home that he knows the fucking dog is still there. The agreed upon date has not yet passed, which means that fuck is lazing about on his side of the bed.

Not to mention the mere obstacle of convincing a former military dog he’s never met, in the middle of the night, that yes this is his fucking house and he’s the one paying the bills around here and yes that actually is his spot on the bed so kindly fuck off.

At a point during his drive home, a police car flies by him. Then another. Then another.

Must be the fucker that’s been breaking into homes. Hopefully he gets caught and that’s one less thing to worry about when Johnny leaves again.

Except the red and blue lights seem to be fucking honed in from the spot that he’s steadily driving to, and Johnny’s convinving himself that he’s seeing things. There is no way that those lights and sirens are stemming from his house, thank you very much.

Even still, he feels himself driving faster. The sooner to quiet his anxiety that’s brewing.

The anxiety doesn’t dissipate as he makes each turn to his home. If anything it gets worse.

Because all that noise and the flashing lights are stemming from his own fucking home. Johnny can barely get the thing in park before he’s flying out of the vehicle. He can hear screams and specifically her crying and in an instant Johnny’s beyond being keyed up.

One of the officers attempts to intercept Johnny- thinks he’s just some nosy fuck from who knows where- and it takes everything in him not to blow his top entirely as he cuts the man off with a stern “This is mah house ‘n she’s mah wife!”

The sound of his voice booming into the night is enough to catch her attention and bring her running to him. Johnny embraces her as she flings herself at him, crying into his shirt as he strokes her back and soothes her.

He can piece together the general what happened, although he’s completely unaware of the details.

One piece begins to fit into place as he starts to hear what all the screaming is. His initial attention completely fixated on ensuring his wife is whole and hale, now he can check that off the mental list he now has the bandwidth to listen to the bellowing.

“Git it aff me! Och Jesus, someone git it aff o' me!”

“Cannae git th’ damn thing tae release him,” Johnny hears one of the officers comment dryly.

“Can always choke him off if the owners can’t git him tae let go,” the other one supplies.

“Eh, ah guess,” the first one responds in a bored tone that makes it clear he has a this guy fucked around and now he’s finding out, and I don’t see a reason to hurry- the dog looks happy anyway, stance to the situation.

On the side of the house, face down in the grass is the man who presumably broke inside.

He is so incredibly lucky there are witnesses and a sobbing wife to curtail the dark, angry thoughts swirling around in Johnny’s brain. Otherwise all it would take would be one phone call to Laswell and this prick disappears forever.

Attached to the calf of that man is Cujo, happily laying on the ground with his tail wagging slowly like his teeth aren’t sunk inside a man’s flesh. If the dog gets too annoyed with the man’s wiggling he shakes him like a chew toy, starting up a fresh round of someone git this fucking dog aff o’ me! until he lays still.

The mention of choking the dog off the would-be intruder doesn’t slip past his darling in the slightest, looking up at him with wet, pleading eyes.

Damn it all, he’s always a sucker for that look.

“Johnny, do you know how to make him let go? I don’t want him choked!”

He decides she’s probably better off not being told how often that ends up having to happen, and that Cujo will be just fine minus a few brain cells if push comes to shove.

But he has spent enough time (against his will, mind) around the dogs that he’s learned the basic commands over the years through repeated exposure.

“No promises, hen, bit we’ll see.” The dog has never met him a day in his life- there’s no guarantee he’s going to listen to a man that’s a stranger barking orders at him, but Johnny gives the sharp German command anyway.

To his surprise, the dog lets go immediately and turns towards them, giving the skipping lope that a 3 legged dog does before placing himself in a heel at Soap’s side, eyes wide and head tilted.

Johnny doesn’t want to think about what could have happened tonight if it wasn’t for Cujo- Kabar- taking such an involved roll in apprehending the man stupid enough to break into his home.

And he’s most assuredly not magically over his aversion to dogs- especially military dogs- but he might be able to tolerate an exception if it means having some peace of mind that his wife is safe at home.

[janeyseymour]

Hii

Can you write a Mel x reader where they go to the PECSA and there is only one bed available? They describe themselves as reaaaally good friends until everything changes.

Can you make it with a happy ending? Ty ❤️

I hope this is what you were asking for!

What happens at PECSA...

WC: ~3k

“PECSA,” Melissa grins. “Here we come!” She turns in her seat to glance at you sitting in the back. Barb and her had been kind enough to let you tag along with them.

“Oh, Y/N,” Barb chuckles as she drives. “You have no idea what you just got yourself into tagging along with the two of us.”

“I know what I got myself out of by not going with Janine and Jacob,” you giggle. “I still don’t know how Gregory puts up with the two of them sometimes.”

“Love does weird things to that man,” Barb makes a face. “God, I can’t wait to not have to listen to those lectures and relax in a hot tub instead. I’ve been around a while, I don’t know why I’m still required to go to these things”

“I’m ready for a couple of math-o-ritas, and then I’ll be schmoozing all of the different companies to get them to donate supplies to Abbott,” Melissa cheers from her seat.

You, on the other hand, aren’t quite sure what to expect. The last time you went to PECSA, you mostly just kept to yourself and kept your head down. You were a new teacher, and you figured you should at least look like you were trying. But that was last year. Now, you have Melissa and Barbara to help you out, and if the three of you get caught not participating... you’re sure one of them will get you out of the sticky situation.

It takes you a bit longer to get to your destination, and both senior teachers are all grins once you’re finally there.

“Oh, PECSA,” Melissa sighs in content as she grabs her bags. “How I’ve missed you.”

“Come on, Melissa,” Barbara laughs. “If we want to be able to raid the minibar before the opening dinner, we have to get in there! Now!”

The redhead all but rolls her eyes as she moves out of the way, allowing the kindergarten teacher to grab her various bags.

“Jeez, Barbara,” you laugh as you look at the amount of things she’s packed for a weekend. You have one duffel bag and a backpack filled with everything you could possibly need, and she has... is that really five bags?

“I’m very serious about my nighttime routine, Y/N,” she says lowly. “I don’t look this good by doing nothing, you know.”

“C’mon, you two,” the redhead teases the two of you. “Let’s go check in and get settled in.”

You let Melissa and Barbara check in first before you step up to the counter. 

“Checking in for Y/N,” you say politely.

The clerk clicks around a few times on his computer before giving you a look. “I don’t have a reservation under that name.”

You look baffled. You had booked your room months in advance- you had booked it with Melissa’s guidance because she knew a guy who could get you a good deal. “That’s impossible, you say softly. I booked my room months ago.”

“Did you get a confirmation email?” The concierge asks.

“I did,” you mumble as you pull out your phone, searching for it. You pull it up as proof.

Your coworkers are watching curiously. It hadn’t taken that long for them to check in.

“You think she’s okay?” Melissa leans in close to Barb.

“I’m not sure,” the kindergarten teacher replies. “She looks a little frazzled.”

“I’ll check on ‘er,” the redhead tells her friend. “Watch my stuff.”

“You okay?” Melissa comes up behind you and sets a hand on your shoulder.

You take a shaky breath. “Fine. They just messed up my reservation, so now they’re looking to see where they can put me, and they’re figuring out how much I get back since I won’t be put in as nice of a-”

“They fucked up your reservation?” the redhead cuts you off. “Oh... Vinnie’s gonna get an earful about this one.”

“It’s okay,” you lay a hand on her arm. “It’s fine. It’s all gonna get squared away, and then we can focus on having a good time at PECSA.”

“No, I’m gonna-” Melissa looks like something has triggered her ‘fight-or-fight’ response.

“It’s okay,” you promise her. “It’s all gonna be fine. Things happen, mistakes happen.”

She doesn’t look very happy, but she does take a breath. If you say it’s fine, she’s trusting you. She goes over and tells Barb what’s happening, and they both come and stand at your sides.

Except then the clerk is coming back over to you, and he doesn't look too excited to share whatever news he has with you.

“Miss Y/N, I am so sorry,” he states quietly. “We’re operating at maximum capacity for this weekend due to the conference, and we will not be able to fit you in. We are in the process of providing a full refund to you as we-”

“What the hell?” Melissa asks from behind you. “How’d you goof up that bad?”

“Mel, it’s okay,” you say quietly. “I’ll just find a different hotel to stay in.”

“No, you’re not,” the second grade teacher bites out. “Because you’ll be staying with me in my room.”

“And we expect a full refund for her,” Barbara cuts in. “And some sort of credit. It’s the least you can do for the poor girl.”

“Guys, it’s fine,” you turn red. They’re fighting for you, and the idea of staying with Melissa? Well... you’ve had a thing for her since you first started at Abbott, but it’s never gone anywhere past coworkers. Staying with Melissa could be dangerous territory if you weren’t careful.

“Like hell we’re gonna let you stay somewhere,” the redhead tells you seriously as she picks up your bags. “The plan is to get hammered, and there ain’t no way I’m lettin’ you take an Uber to and from a different hotel.”

“She’ll be accepting an apology in some form of credit,” Barbara hits the concierge with a stern look again before the three of you walk away.

“Maybe I should just go-”

“Go where, kid?” Melissa rolls her eyes. “Barb drove, so you’re stuck here. Might as well make the best of it, yeah? Now, are you gonna share a room with me, or spend your time on one of these nasty ass couches in the lobby?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” you ask.

“Nope,” the redhead pops her ‘p’. “Let's go, hon. If we hurry we can still get a couple of glasses of wine in before tonight’s event.”

The three of you get into the elevator and head for your rooms. 

“I’ll meet you down at the pool in an hour?” Barb asks. At yours and Melissa’s nods, she lets herself into her room next to Melissa’s... and now yours too.

The redhead unlocks your door and gestures for you to go first. You look around. This place is... wow. It’s really nice. Whatever her cousin Vinnie did to get her this nice of a room had to have been pretty big. You set your things on the floor over by the rather uncomfortable looking couch that is taking up space on the other side of the room.

“Oh come on, Y/N,” Melissa chuckles. “You can put your stuff on the bed.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you mutter nervously, tucking a hair behind your ear and rubbing your collar bone gently.

“You ain’t intruding. I invited you to stay with me for the weekend,” she says pointedly. She glances at where you’ve decided to set your things. “And you’re not sleeping on that ratty ass couch, so don’t even try it.”

“You don’t think this is... weird for us to share a bed?”

“It ain’t weird if you don’t make it weird,” your colleague shrugs as she reaches for her bag. She pulls out a couple of shooters. “Now, are you ready to get PECSA weekend started or what?”

You, Barb, and Melissa end up by the pool an hour later. You had made your appearance, and now you were fully taking advantage of the fact that everybody else was so preoccupied with PECSA events that you had the entire pool room to yourselves.

“Best weekend of the year,” the kindergarten teacher raises her glass. 

“Seriously,” Melissa responds. “Bottomless margs, a heated pool, and a relaxing weekend with two of my favorite people.” While Barb smiles, you blush. You didn’t know you were that high up on her list. You honestly weren’t even sure you were on her good list to begin with, so hearing that you were in ranks with the kindergarten teacher definitely took you by surprise.

“To PECSA,” you say quietly and take off your coverup before reaching for your book. You miss the way that Melissa’s eyes check you out, just like how you had missed it in the hotel room.

You end up falling asleep not much later, a glass of mimosa sitting next to you, and your novel is open and laying on your chest.

Melissa looks over to you. “Wow.” She can’t remember the last time she’s seen you so still- so at peace. You were always running around at Abbott, and even when you were sitting, a part of your body was almost always bouncing up and down. Now, you just look calm. You look... gorgeous. Even with your hair tied up carelessly and no makeup on, Melissa thought you looked absolutely stunning. 

“Poor girl’s been working herself so hard this year,” Barbara tuts. “She’s been exhausted lately.”

That was not what the redhead was referring to, but she’ll play along. “I know,” she laughs nervously. “We’ve barely been here for an hour, and she’s already fallin’ asleep on us. Hope she can keep up with us later tonight.”

“It’s a good thing we were there when the clerk told her there wasn’t any more room,” Barb says, lips turned up. “Otherwise the poor thing would’ve probably Ubered home and not enjoyed this weekend with us.”

“Yeah,” the second grade teacher says noncommittally. She’s still got her eyes on you. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen you looking more beautiful than you do dozing off in the lounge chair. 

“Are you gonna be okay this weekend sharing the place with her?” She knows about Melissa’s little thing for you. She knows how much the redhead cares about you, and she understands how strong the other woman’s feelings are for you.

“I’ve held it together for this long, I can do it for another weekend,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “I have to. I ain’t jeopardizing our friendship.”

“But this weekend you have to share a room,” the kindergarten teacher argues.

“A bed,” Melissa coughs out awkwardly. “We’re sharing a bed. It's totally normal. Friends share beds all the time. I told her I wasn’t going to let her sleep on that ratty ass couch they have in there. But I’ll be... I’ll be fine.”

“You sure about that?” Barbara teases. 

“I’ll be fine. It’ll be fine. Everything will be just... I’ll be fine.”

“Say it one more time, and I’ll believe you,” the older teacher chuckles. 

“I’ll be fine,” Melissa huffs. She takes her eyes off of you to take a sip of her drink. “I just can't get too hammered now.”

That’s what she said. But that was also four hours ago, and five drinks ago. You three are currently down at one of the parties. Barbara is speaking with a few of the handlers from different supply companies, you have had your fair share of drinks and are starting to stumble, and Melissa refuses to leave your side. She glares down pretty much anybody who even thinks about trying to talk to you.

Someone from Addington decides that they don’t give a damn about Melissa’s harsh looks and has to come over to attempt to flirt with you. You’ve made it quite clear you are having no parts of it, but he just won’t leave you alone. Melissa doesn’t like this one bit. She doesn’t intervene just yet though. She knows you are a strong independent woman who can handle this- unless you give her some sort of signal to ask for help.

“I’m really okay,” you slur out. “I don’ wan’ another. Thanks-s though.”

He just keeps trying to get you to drink another one, trying to make conversation with you even though you aren’t interested. He’s ignoring the fact that the redhead is right there with you too. You give Melissa a look that she interprets to be a plea for help. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, but that’s how she takes it.

“Hey, asshole,” the second grade teacher finally taps his shoulder. “She said she ain’t interested, so beat it.”

“And who are you?” he looks her over. “Old, washed up-”

“I’d watch it if I were you,” Melissa glares him down. “Now get outta here, before I help you outta here.”

“Who even are you?” the charter teacher asks. 

Melissa, thinking that you are too inebriated to remember this tomorrow, bites the bullet. She wraps her arms around your waist and helps to steady you. “Her girlfriend. Now, seriously: beat it before I beat you.”

“Damn,” he puts his hands up in surrender as he walks away. “The hot ones always turn out to be gay.”

You’re intoxicated, but not because of the copious amount of tequila you’ve had tonight. No, it’s because of a certain coworker's arms being snaked around your waist and holding onto you tightly. 

“I think maybe it’s time for bed,” Melissa tells you gently as she continues to hold you up. You giggle as you lean into her, fully embracing how close you are and loving it.

“You’re- you’re warm,” you tell her. “I like that about you.”

“Well, yeah,” she laughs as she guides you towards where Barbara is sitting. “Hey, Barb. I think this one’s had enough, so I’m gonna take her up to the room and get her to bed, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Barb!” You try to launch yourself at the veteran teacher.

“Oh! Y/N!” the kindergarten teacher laughs. She lets you hug her, quietly mouthing, ‘Is she okay?’ to Melissa. At the redhead’s nod, she mouths, ‘Are you okay?’ to which Melissa nods again.

“Alright, sweetheart,” the second grade teacher helps pry you off of Barbara. “I think it’s about time we get up to our room and into bed.”

“Mhmm,” you hum. “As long as- as long as you stay with me.”

“I never said nothin’ ‘bout leaving,” she assures you. “Now c’mon.” 

The two of you somehow manage to get back up to the room, and at this point, Melissa is practically dragging you. She keeps one arm looped around your waist while she tries to open the door for you. It unlocks, and she pushes it open before guiding you to the bed.

“Sleep, hon,” Melissa instructs. 

“Don’ wanna sleep in this,” you gesture to the dress you’re wearing. She can’t necessarily blame you- it doesn’t look terribly comfortable.

“Okay, hon,” she sighs. She opens your duffel, blushing immediately. “Is there anything specific you want in here?”

“My t-shirt,” you mumble, already curled up on your side of the bed. She digs through your duffel bag, only to realize you forgot to pack a night shirt. Thank god she packed an extra. She quickly goes to her side of the bed and finds the spare shirt. 

She throws the shirt at you and instructs you to change, but you’re still struggling after several minutes. With a sigh, Melissa knows she’s going to have to help you change. She wishes she was undressing you, not helping you redress.

Once you’re finally changed, she helps you slip into bed and pulls the blankets up and around you. The teacher moves a few stray hairs away from your face before tracing a gentle line down your cheek with the pad of her thumb.

“Mel,” you whine when she pulls her hand away from your face. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” she promises you. “I’m just gonna change for bed myself, and then I’ll be right back, yeah?” You nod, and she walks into the bathroom with her own pajamas.

She takes a long time in the bathroom. You’re struggling to keep your eyes open, but you don’t want to fall asleep without her arms around you- they are safe. Secure. When she comes out, she’s shocked to see that you’re still awake.

“Hey sleepyhead,” she chuckles. “I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

“Waiting for you,” you try, but fail, to stifle a yawn. “C’mon.”

She climbs into bed, and you waste no time wiggling your way into her arms. You tangle

your legs together and force her to hold you as you rest your head on her shoulder.  

“You good, hon?” Melissa asks you gently, just barely daring to press a kiss to your hair.

“Wish we could do this sober,” you mumble, sleep threatening to take you. “But ‘m too nervous to say anything to you when not drunk.”

The redhead is fairly certain she’s hallucinating. Did you just admit you wished you could cuddle with her? Lay in bed with her and fall asleep in her arms?

“Well, sweetheart,” the second grade teacher sighs heavily. “Let’s just get past tonight, see what you remember tomorrow, and then we can talk.”

You nod. You’re still drunk, but you’re pretty aware of everything that is happening, and you know you’ll remember all of this tomorrow. But it’s that extra little bite that liquid courage gives you that allows you to say, “I love you, Mel,” before you tighten your grip on her and give in to sleep. 

Melissa’s eyes widen slightly, but she doesn’t hesitate in saying, “I love you too, Y/N.” She presses a sweet kiss to the side of your head, and prays to God that when the two of you wake up everything is okay.

Next

[vodika-vibes]

Early Morning

Summary: You can't sleep, your boyfriend has opinions about it.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Reader

Word Count: 895

Warnings: Spicy

Tagging: @trixie2023

A/N: I don't know where this came from, but I do know it's short because my husband woke up early and tried to make me think about Christmas presents rather than letting me focus on this.

Divider by Saradika

Sometimes, all the time really, you have a hard time sleeping. Insomnia, your doctor calls it sympathetically. No treatment, he says, maybe therapy will help, he offers.

As if you have the time for that.

But that brings you to this situation. Laying in bed, desperately wanting to fall asleep, your eyes burning with exhaustion, and yet you’re unable to still your mind long enough to actually fall asleep.

And you feel bad about it, because your handsome Wolffe deserves a restful sleep, and you know that if you get out of bed, he’ll wake up and no one will get enough sleep.

You roll onto your side, and press your face against his chest, deeply inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of Wolffe, and you close your eyes. He’s warm and comforting against you, his strong arm slung tightly around your waist and his legs tangled with yours.

Even in sleep, Wolffe wants you close.

It’s adorable.

With how he tends to carry himself, you had expected him to be protective over you. But once your relationship developed to the point where he was spending the night, his clinginess was a surprise.

A surprise, but a pleasant one.

You press a feather light kiss over his heart, and he stirs, his hand ghosts up your back and settles on the back of your neck, “Mm…cyare?” His voice is rough with sleep and you sigh silently and lean up to press a kiss to his throat.

“Go back to sleep, Wolffe.” You murmur against his throat.

“Why are you awake?” he asks, his touches becoming a little more firm, and when you pull back to look up at him, his gaze is surprisingly alert.

“I just can’t sleep,” You reply softly, as you slide up the sheets so you’re able to look Wolffe in the eye, and both of your hands come out to cup his face. “You should, though. I’ll go and watch a holo or something in the living room.”

His grip tightens around you, “You definitely won’t fall asleep if you’re watching a movie, cyare.” He points out his fingers trail from the back of your neck to your throat.

“I know,” You reply, “But better that than laying here and keeping you awake.”

Wolffe rolls onto his back and lightly tugs you so that you’re laying on his chest. 

“You’re very awake for 2 am, Commander,” You tease gently, leaning in and pressing a kiss against his jaw.

“So are you, angel.” He slides his hands up your sides, his touch feather light and gentle. Gentle enough that you shiver, and he rumbles out a quiet laugh.

You try to pout at him, but are unable to keep the smile from crossing your face, and you trail your fingers lightly across his face, tracing over the familiar features with a very gentle touch, “I love you,” you whisper, rather than giving his comment any real answer.

Wolffe catches one of your hands, and presses a firm kiss against the palm of your hand, “I love you too. Even if you never sleep.” He jokes lightly, his eyes closing as your free hand continues lightly trailing across his face.

You watch as Wolffe relaxes under your touch. And you smile at him. His brothers would never believe how soft Wolffe can be with you, how he lets you take the lead in the relationship.

You lean in and kiss him, softly and gently, trying to push all of your feelings out into that one kiss.

He sighs into the kiss, and his hand tangles in your hair, and when you press your forehead against his, he looks up at you so adoringly, “I love you,” He breathes out, as he tries to bring your lips back against his.

“I know, I love you too.” You reply, allowing him to bring you back into another kiss. And then another, and another. Each one more heated than the one before.

One of his hands slides to your hip and then down to your thigh, his grip almost bruising, as he flips the pair of you so you’re pinned to the bed beneath him. 

He breaks the kiss and flashes you a wicked smile, “If you’re not going to sleep on your own, ner cyare,” Wolffe coos, “I’ll just have to wear you out, won’t I?”

Your hands slide up his bare chest, “You don’t have to.”

“Oh, my angel. This is a duty I’m happy to perform,” Wolffe reassures with a growing grin, as he slides his hand from your thigh to just over your ribs, “So, how do you want me?” 

Your breath catches in your throat, something that he notices based on the smug grin crossing his face, “Like this,” You reply, sounding slightly breathless, “Just like this.”

He hums in delight, “I am a fan of the classics,” Wolffe replies easily, “And if you’re not ready for sleep when I’m done, then I’ll just have to get creative, won’t I?” He kisses you sweetly, and then his lips move to your throat, pressing soft, sweet, kisses which quickly turn into hot, open-mouthed kisses. And then he bites down on the junction between your neck and shoulder, and a moan slips from your lips.

“There we go, cyare.” He murmurs against your skin, “Sing for me, angel, and I’ll take care of you.”

[msschemmenti]

To Be Near You

Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Prompt: Ava decided to do some staff bonding (and content gathering) and forces the teachers to have a sleepover in the school. Melissa and the reader are in a secret established relationship and get caught together.

a/n: this idea came to me before bed yesterday because I was thinking about what barbara howard would wear to sleep

“Maybe I should go get my air mattress out of my storage unit. I don’t really wanna sleep on my rug.” Y/n mumbled as she dropped onto the plastic-covered couch next to Melissa. The TV was playing some game and it currently had all of the older woman’s attention. It was a Thursday and Y/n honestly couldn’t keep up with what sport Melissa watched on Thursdays but she was really only there for the company. 

Melissa shifted as the words Y/n uttered finally broke through her focus. “Barb and Gerald are letting me borrow their spare, you won’t need yours.”

Y/n eyed the woman curiously, trying to figure out if she’d missed something within the past 6 months that would make Melissa’s response a logical solution to her problem. “Mel darling, you do understand what a lock-in is right?”

Ava’s latest fixation has been on team bonding (apparently that’s where the money is this week). And she had the brilliant idea to have the teachers spend a night in Abbott. Obviously, no one wanted to do that, but after a few threats and incentives, the woman rallied enough teachers to participate. Everyone had discussed their sleeping plans earlier over lunch and had established that they’d all be sleeping in their own classrooms, much to Janine’s dismay. Y/n couldn’t help but feel bad for the woman as she tried to convince everyone to set up their sleeping bags in the gym for an actual sleepover. She’d been shot down faster than Y/n’d ever seen before. Between Barb and Melissa, there was no chance in hell either of the women would be participating more than necessary. 

“Of course, I know what a lock-in is. What’s the issue? You haven’t ever complained about sharing a bed before now.” Melissa grumbled turning to face Y/n as the game came to an end. 

“And I’m not complaining now. I just must have missed the part where you told our co-workers you were banging the new fifth grade teacher.” Y/n replied wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

“I think I’m doing more than banging you,” Melissa wiggled her brows back causing Y/n to blush in the truth of the tease. 

“Even if that is true, how do you plan to explain me sleeping in your classroom to anyone without outing us?” 

Melissa shrugged, “I think you’re giving them all too much credit. It’ll be fine. Once everyone retires to their own classrooms, you can just come down to my room. By morning everyone will just be worried about getting out of there so the sneaking out won’t be an issue. Piece of cake.” 

“Says you, you’re not doing any of the sneaking.” Y/n rolled her eyes, she’d do anything for Melissa so her complaints were only for show. “But alright, that crosses at least one thing off of my list of things I need to pack tonight when I leave here.” 

“I’ll just take my stuff we can stay at your place.” Melissa said rising from the couch to go collect her things. “Give me like 20 mins and we can leave.” Y/n went to tell Melissa it wasn’t necessary but she was already gathering all of her things to tag along. As she watched the older woman buzz around the house readying for their own little sleepover she couldn’t help but to smile at how readily Melissa was to come home with her. 

-

“This might’ve been Ava’s best idea yet.” Janine grinned as everyone gathered in the teacher’s lounge to wait for Ava to bring dinner. “I already feel so much closer to you guys. You know I’d actually feel even closer if we all put our sleeping bags in the-” 

“Shut up Janine, dinner is served.” Ava said as she hip-checked Janine out of the doorway carrying a box of takeout orders. She brought the box to the table in front of the couch and quickly grabbed her things, “Back you filthy animals. Everyone’s orders should have their name on it.” 

Y/n rose from her seat at the table by the wall and waded through the throng of teachers to retrieve her meal. Sliding under someone’s arm she was able to get her box but saw both Barb’s and Melissa’s still sitting there. Without much thought, she grabbed them both and ducked back out of the crowd and headed for their table. She slid the boxes to each woman with a smile and turned to head back for her seat at the other table. Before she could get too far, Melissa’s hand reached for her wrist and pulled her back. “Thanks hon, why don’t you eat with us?” 

Y/n eyed Melissa hesitantly, they normally kept their in school interaction to a minimum and Y/n hardly ever sat near Melissa for to long. They’d learned that one of them had a hard time keeping her hands to herself. So the invitation was like playing with fire, especially if Y/n was meant to sneak into Melissa’s classroom to cuddle later that night. She gazed at Barb briefly before letting her eyes fall onto Melissa again and seeing the silent plea behind her eyes. 

“We won’t bite sweetheart.” Barb smiled as she hit Melissa’s shoulder in a sort of scold for still holding onto Y/n’s wrist. Y/n nodded and moved to have a seat and when Barbara returned her attention to her food she shot Melissa a warning glare, nonverbally telling her to behave. The redhead grinned mischieviously and nodded. “How was your day Y/n? I didn’t see you at lunch.” Barbara asked making polite conversation like the Godly woman she is.

“Oh it was okay, I left something at home so I ran back to get it before I had to pick the kids up. How about you?” Y/n replied gazing toward the woman kindly. That morning Melissa had been on her ass about bringing her sleeping bag and she’d planned to slide it in the car without her noticing but they’d practically been joined at the hip since they’d made it to the apartment the night before. After leaving it at home, she went back to grab it and tucked it in her classroom for the day. Of course she wouldn’t be using it, but it would be nice to have some sort of cover if anyone was to look in on her that night. Melissa didn’t see it that way, but it would come in handy this evening.

“Well I woke up this morning, so I can’t complain. But I know I’ll be complaining tomorrow after sleeping on an Air Mattress.” Barbara groaned.

“Oh I know what you mean, I’ll be lucky if I can move my back after sleeping in my sleeping bag. I’m not sure this was the best idea after all.”

“Exactly, forgive me but I do not want to see any of your faces after 3:30-” As Barbara talked Y/n startled at the feeling of a hand inching up her thigh underneath the table. She kept her gaze on Barbara but her nods in agreement became more aggressive as she tried to listen. She didn’t even have to turn to know that Melissa was sporting a proud smirk as she tease her girlfriend. Y/n knew it was around the time they were alone and free to be themselves, but the location was not ideal for this kind of teasing especially if Melissa wanted to keep their secret. “But I’ll be glad when morning comes. I just hope Gerald can make it through the night. He always says he sleeps better when I’m there. He’ll probably be wide awake tonight.” 

Y/n swatted Melissa’s hand away under the table as discreetly as possible before pouting at Barbara’s words, “That’s so romantic. I guess that makes sense though, especially since you’ve been married for so long. I hope someone feels that way about me someday.” 

“I’m sure they will hon.” Melissa said finally adding something to the conversation. Y/n let her eyes fall to the red-head and tried fight the hopeful look that she knew was on her face. Melissa winked quickly and then both women turned back to their dinner. 

-

Mel <3: Coast is clear. Everyone is asleep.

With a pillow under her arm, Y/n made her great escape through the halls of the school. She was only going down one set of stair, but she’d have to tip-toe her way passed Janine’s classroom and that would be the ultimate test of her spy skills. Once she made it down the stairs she could see Melissa peaking out of her door, looking down each side of the hallway. When their eyes met, she threw her head back in a ‘come on’ motion and reached toward Y/n making grabbing motions. 

Once in the safety of the classroom Melissa seemed to pounce on the younger woman. Their lips met languidly, dancing an all too familiar dance, before they finally broke apart when air became a necessity. “God, I’ve been waiting to do that all day. We’re never doing this again.” Melissa groaned before pulling Y/n toward the airmattress in the corner of the room. 

“Can’t argue with that. I’m gonna set an alarm to head back to my room at 7. I figure, no one will be up by then.” 

“Set it for 8. I don’t want to wake up before 8.” 

“Well baby, I’ll just be quiet. You don’t have to get up with me.” Y/n said nestling into the air mattress and Melissa’s side. 

“I know I don’t have to but if you get up, I will. It’s already hard enough falling asleep the first time. If you leave I’ll never get back to sleep, even if it is for just an hour.” Melissa confessed quietly as she pulled Y/n closer.

“Are you saying you have a hard time sleeping without me? Because that would explain a lot, but also be so romantic.” Y/n asked with a slight tease in her voice. 

“I just like being near you. I feel…I don’t know. At peace or something.” Melissa said bashfully.

“Well, I like being near you too. So I guess we both win, hm?”

“I guess you’re right.” 

“I’ll set my alarm for 8. Now let’s get some sort of sleep on this thing.” 

“Alright, goodnight hon.” Melissa said placing a kiss on Y/n’s hair.

“G’night Mel.” Y/n whispered, closing her eyes in bliss.

-

Morning came and Melissa had been right, everyone was really was just trying to get out of the building as quickly as possible. The couple had shifted position a little but were still tangled in each others arms. With Y/n’s alarm vibrating away on the floor of the classroom, the women continued to sleep in ignorant bliss. As the other teachers escaped the school for the weekend, Barbara stood outside of her best friend’s classroom hoping to catch her before she left. She figured she could get the air mattress back now to solve that problem and figured her friend would be awake by now. She opened the door and entered as she normally did, but came to a stop as she saw the two bodies tangled together on the bed. The shock didn’t last long before the smile took over at the sight of the two. Despite being on an air mattress in the middle of a classroom, both women seemed to be as comfortable as comfort could get. Y/n’s mouth wide open, a bit of drool hanging from her chin. Melissa’s arms wrapped tightly around the younger woman, as if to keep her from falling off of the bed. This was a couple that was comfortable with each other and that loved each other deeply and Barbara could see it all now. 

Making her way to the side of the bed, she picked up the vibrating phone and stopped the alarm. With great displeasure she reached down to shake her friend awake gently. As Melissa’s eyes creeked open, her gaze first fell to Y/n. She seemed to mentally and physically check to make sure she was alright before she let her eyes wander the room. They quickly landed on Barb and her cheeks flamed as bright as her hair. 

“Good morning.” Barbara smiled down at the woman. 

“Morning.” Melissa answered sheepishly. She waited for Barbara admonishment or warning, but it never came. The woman smiled softly before nodding down to the mattress. 

“I’m heading home, but you can just give the mattress to me Monday. I’ll tell everyone you’ve already left on my way out.” 

Melissa nodded gratefully before watching the older woman head for the door. Barbara paused before leaving turning back to Melissa, “I’m expecting a call sometime before then to hear about all of this.” 

“I’d expect nothing less. I’ll call you tonight.” Melissa promised, causing Barbara to nod with a grin before heading out of the school.

It wasn’t long before the snoozed alarm went off again and Y/n stirred away, as her eyes adjusted to the sun peaking through the windows she looked up at Melissa with a lazy smile. “What are you doing up? What time is it?” 

“After 8 and Barb knows.” Melissa shrugged snuggling further into the covers now that they had a bit of downtime before they had to get up.

“Well, better her than Janine.” Y/n said following Melissa back to comfort.

“Yes, anyone would be better than Janine.” Melissa agreed with a smile placing a goodmorning kiss to Y/n’s forehead. “Good morning.” 

“A good morning indeed.” Y/n smiled leaning up to plant a kiss of her own on Melissa’s waiting lips.

[catholickedd]

if you need to be mean, be mean to me

(a hilson fic)

a/n: this is my first time ever writing a full-length fic!! feel free to criticize. i had so much fun writing this & i hope you enjoy it!

tags: @sillyhyperfixator @danexist @rapidlydecayingcorpse

chapter 1

“And the patient is still refusing to cooperate?” Dr. Gregory House asked, before shaking two Vicodin into his hand and downing them. It was too early to be dealing with this bullshit.

“Yes,” Dr. Cameron replied, her hands folded on the table. She looked exhausted. “He won’t agree to even the least invasive treatments or tests.”

“Then why does he even have a bed?”

“He collapsed in public and was brought here by ambulance. He’s tried to escape multiple times, but his condition is severe and we can’t let him leave in that state,” Dr. Chase explained.

“If he wants to die so badly, let him die, for fuck’s sake!”

“I know you love to ignore it, House, but there’s a little thing called the Hippocratic Oath that forbids us from things like that.”

House let out a loud and obnoxious sigh that dragged on for an almost awkward amount of time. He had to do everything himself around here.

“Let me deal with it,” he said exasperatedly, and walked out without elaborating.

The fellows exchanged a look. “I don’t like the sound of that,” Foreman muttered.

“Nothing we can do now except sit back and watch the show,” Chase replied, putting his hands behind his head and resting his feet on the table.

“I’ll get the popcorn,” said Cameron.

–

Wilson had been busy, but he’d forgotten what he was working on as soon as he heard House limping into the lobby. “Uh-oh,” he said with a small smile, putting down the papers he was sifting through and dropping into the easy rhythm he and House had, walking side by side. “You’ve got that look on your face.”

“What look? I don’t have a look,” House said defensively.

“You have all sorts of looks.”

“Then what’s this one? Allegedly?” The last word was said with a sarcastic emphasis and a turn toward Wilson.

“The look when you’ve done something that’s going to get you in trouble and you want to tell me about it.”

“Well, you’re wrong. I haven’t committed one act of medical malpractice today.”

“I think just you being in the building is considered malpractice at this point.”

“That’s what they pay the lawyers for.”

“They must pay them pretty damn well.”

“Not enough, from what Stacy used to tell me.”

Wilson was about to make another witty remark when Cuddy’s voice cut through the hall and stopped the two doctors in their tracks. “HOUSE.”

“Uh-oh,” House said, raising his eyebrows performatively. “Somebody’s in trouble.”

Wilson rolled his eyes and smiled.

“You anesthetized a patient without their knowledge or consent, and then performed a series of tests the patient explicitly refused to have done?”

Wilson smiled to himself.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. Who’s to say?”

“God, you are insufferable! Do you realize the consequences we could face for this?”

“Oh, don’t act like this is anywhere near the first time I’ve done something like this,” House said with a roll of his eyes, turning to continue his walk with Wilson. “It’ll all work out in the end. Trust me.”

“The patient’s mother is a member of the hospital Board.”

House froze. “She’s what?”

“She wouldn’t let you know because she didn’t want that to influence your treatment of the patient. Look where that got us. They’re holding a meeting this afternoon. Good luck getting past this one without a court summons.” Cuddy turned on her heel and walked angrily back into her office.

Wilson and House shared a look, House’s expression expectant. Wilson sighed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’ll cover your ass again.”

House gave Wilson a wry smile. “Thanks, Jimmy,” he said in a half-sarcastic tone, and walked away.

Wilson watched him go for longer than he should have, then shook his head and got back to work.

–

The next time House saw Wilson, he was bursting through the doors of his office as House sat with his feet up on his desk. The sun was dipping down into the New Jersey horizon, and Wilson was dressed to leave in a black trench coat which swished behind him as he entered the room. His face was flushed, and he was clearly distressed.

“They’re reviewing both our jobs, House.”

House stood up, hands on the desk to balance him. “They can’t fire me,” he said, a hint of a hint of a waver in his voice. “I’m the best doctor in New Jersey. ”

“They’re spending too much on lawyers to keep you out of malpractice suits. They needed a unanimous vote to fire you, and I vouched for you because of course, because that’s what I do, and now they’re thinking about firing me along with you, and House, I don’t think I can do this anymore. I stick my neck out for you again and again, and for what? All you do is take and take and you never give anything back, and-”

“Why?”

“Why what? I-”

“Why would you do that, in the first place? You never had to do everything you did for me, but you did, you just kept doing it.”

“Because I’m a good person, House! Maybe you don’t understand that, but-”

“No. Even good people burn out after a while of giving to dickheads like me. There’s something else. There’s something you want.”

“All I wanted was to be kind! Maybe if I gave you what you wanted, maybe you wouldn’t be so miserable for once-”

“Why?”

“Because I’m in love with you!”

Everything stopped. Wilson seemed to realize what words had just come out of his mouth and sat down on the couch, head in his hands.

“And I thought maybe…someday, you’d look at me that way, and I just kept waiting, hoping you would say something, but you never did.”

Silence. House’s head was cocked, looking at Wilson. When the silence became too much to bear, Wilson took his hands off his face and stood up.

“Well? Say something! Say anything, Greg!” He tried to hide the tears that were rolling down his face.

House looked away.

“Fine,” Wilson hissed through his teeth. “Goodbye.” And he slammed the glass door behind him as he left.

Wilson hadn’t noticed in the dim evening light, but House was crying too.

–

Wilson was drunk. Drunker than he had been in recent memory. He was lying on the couch with one arm and one leg draped over the back, open whiskey bottle in the hand that hung toward the floor. His apartment was dirty, he was wearing heather-gray sweatpants and an old t-shirt, and he felt like dying. He was listening to the Tallahassee album by The Mountain Goats through the headphones connected to his iPod, and for this reason he didn’t hear the knocking on the door the first few times it happened, and ignored it the next couple of times. When it became clear the knocker wasn’t going to leave, Wilson got up to open the door, hoping it wasn’t House and praying that it was.

Unfortunately, his prayers were answered. He was standing there, in the same clothes Wilson had last seen him in, leaning against the doorframe, head turned to the side. “Thought you’d never open the door,” he said, playing with his cane.

Wilson began to close the door.

“No, no, no, no, waitwaitwait-'' The door closed on House’s cane, which he had stuck in the gap. Annoyed, Wilson reopened the door. “What?” he asked flatly.

“Jim…you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

Wilson dug his nails into his palm. He’d probably fallen asleep on the couch and that’s where he was right now, dreaming this. Because it couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be this perfect.

House took a deep breath.

“AndIneversaidanythingbecauseyouweremarriedandthenyouwerealwaysflirtingwithwomenandweweresupposedtojustbefriends, Ithoughtthatwas justhowpeoplefeltabouttheirfriendsbutIknewitwasn’t,andIlovedotherwomenbuttheyweren’tyoubecauseyouweredifferent, Wilson, you were everything, and I don’t know what I would do if I lost you, and-“

Suddenly Wilson was grabbing House’s tie and pulling him until their faces were only inches apart and they could hear each other’s soft breathing as their eyes met and locked.

God, the alcohol had made him bold. But how long had he waited to have House’s lips against his? How long had he waited for what he hoped was about to happen? He moved one hand to the back of House’s neck.

“Shut up and fuck me already,” Wilson whispered, and pulled him in for a hard kiss.

————

The morning came far too soon, as it always seemed to. Wilson was incredibly hungover and had one of the worst headaches of his life.

But he forgot it all the moment he realized he had one hand pressed against Gregory House’s bare chest, his head resting near his shoulder, and his other hand loosely placed against his back. He felt the other man’s soft breathing, his chest rising and falling in a calming rhythm. He had a peacefulness that he had never seen in the waking House, and therefore Wilson lay back and appreciated it, appreciated that there was nowhere in the entire world he’d rather be than right here, House’s breath soft on his ear, chest hair rough against his palm.

“This is it,” he thought. “This is what I’ve been waiting for all this time.”

He lay and watched the sleeping man for a bit longer.

Wilson’s breathing patterns changing must have stirred House, because his blue eyes opened before too long. Realizing where he was (and who he was with,) he smiled and pressed a light kiss to Wilson’s neck and then to his mouth.

“You have terrible morning breath,” Wilson said.

“Good morning to you too,” replied House.

Wilson smiled. “Do you want coffee?”

“Of course I do.”

“I’ll make some.”

“Black, no sug-“

“I know how you take your coffee, House,” Wilson said with a smile and pulled on a t-shirt.

House watched him leave the room and lay his head back against the pillow.

Sometimes the world was good.

————

[joocomics]

tags: bf!jungsu, fem!reader, orgasm denial, mutual masturbation | mdni

The last few days before Jungsu leaves on tour fly quickly, and they turn you into the most clingy person to exist. You’re aware of it.

You’re all over him every chance you get because he’s about to be away for almost two months. Although he doesn’t say anything, Jungsu enjoys it - the way you crawl onto him when he sits in front of the tv, the way you always look for his hand when you go on walks, and of course, the way you kiss him, long and deep, until he’s out of breath, when it’s only the two of you - like you’re trying your hardest to remember the exact taste of his mouth and the exact shapes of his body.

On your last night together you pull him to bed with lust glowing in your eyes, causing Jungsu to give you one of his signature smirks which do not hide at all the fact he’s finding this adorable, but also amusing. He knows you want him again. No, you need him again. Even though in the morning he fucked you till your eyes were tearing up.

“You needy girl, what are you going to do when I leave?” He asks, getting on top of you with lazy movements. His voice is still raspy from his late nap which only turns you on even more.

“I don’t want to think about this now.” With zero patience you press your lips against his, letting your hands explore the soft skin under his white shirt.

This is the first time you won’t see each other for such a long period of time and you really couldn’t fully grasp it yet. You trust Jungsu, if you didn’t you wouldn’t be here right now, but you still can’t help but worry how your first separation will go.

To shut off your mind you completely focus on his soothing voice, the way his breathing warms up the skin of your neck while even the weight of his body brings you pleasure.

“Soo needy,” he whispers. “You can’t go a day without my cock.” A light chuckle leaves through his lips, but the words are dripping in confidence. “I fuck you every single day and it’s never enough for you… You’re addicted, baby.” He places a kiss on one of the marks he left around your collarbone this morning. “What am I going to do with you?”

However, just when you’re about to reach for his crotch, Jungsu all of a sudden jumps off the bed. You watch him make a few steps back and forth, before he turns with a mischievous look, as if he’s plotting something. You wait for him to speak what’s on his mind, slightly on edge.

“Show me.”

“Show you what?” You don’t get the hint.

“What you’re going to do when you need my cock, but I’m not here to give it to you,” he answers as if it was more than obvious.

He pulls the chair from your desk, and sits waiting for your next move. He looks calm and for some reason that makes you even more nervous. Of course you’ve touched yourself in front of him before, but only during sex, not like this.

“Come on, baby,” he leans closer for a better view with elbows resting on his knees. “Give me something to think about when I miss you.”

“Will you fill me up after this?” Your question comes out almost desperately.

“I’ll do anything you want,” he grins, slightly going over the bulge in his pants with one hand.

You smile shyly at your boyfriend’s words as you spread your legs wide open after your panties were tossed on the floor. Burning heat flows underneath your skin when you realise that Jungsu does not miss a single flinch from your body. His gaze is focused on your figure that’s softly illuminated from the dim bedroom lights, and becomes more and more intense, as your own fingers pump into you so eagerly, filling the air with pretty lewd noises.

Seeing you so vulnerable and desperate for his touch is now Jungsu’s favorite thing in the world. He’s aware those fingers of yours are not nearly enough. Whatever you do, however you do it, you’re still not experiencing half of the amazing feeling his cock rams into you. He can just stop this and fulfill all your needs with a single thrust - your small fingers definitely do not reach as deep as you like even though you moan so beautifully... If he just quits watching, he will have you orgasm in seconds, but teasing you like this excites him so fucking much. He cannot look away from your thighs bent to your chest as you pant his name like a song, it’s addictive. The fact he’s just watching from a distance, occasionally guiding your fingers with words - even more. Until he decides to take full control.

“Stop.” He exclaims, stroking his erection. He barely succeeds at hiding his grin after he hears your cute tortured whine.

You obediently pull out your soaked fingers, again, while hiding your exhausted face in the sheets at the same time.

“I thought you liked it when we cum together.” Jungsu playfully teases you, enjoying the trembling of your legs now tightly wrapped together from the urge for relief. “What happened?”

“I-I do,” you squeal in immediate response. “But this is too much… I can’t… N-no more, please.” You breathe out heavily, holding your thighs together. The overstimulation has weakened your body, and all you need now is for the rush to come, and take a rest.

Jungsu thinks over his next command while your adorably bent figure makes his dick throb harder into his fist.

Why didn’t he thought of this sooner?

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[southsidestory]

Chapter 1: Grounds for Harassment

Mickey knows he’s a piece of shit. It’s easy to forget sometimes, like how piss in the carpet stops stinking after it’s settled, but every now and then he’ll think something so awful that he remembers, Oh, yeah. Piece of shit.

That happens when Mandy says Ian Gallagher messed with her (and not in the good way). Because Mickey’s first thought is that Mandy is lying, and his second is thank fuck.

Getting to hunt down Ian is the best thing that’s happened to Mickey in months.

“What he do to you, exactly?”

“I’m not giving you the gross details!” Mandy shouts.

She leans against the front door, blocking the handle, as if he’s stupid enough to go inside the house.

He’s been locked out for a week. A whole fucking week of stealing food from corner stores, taking a leak behind buildings, and sleeping in icy alleys. He can’t even remember what he did to set Ronnie off this time, but his uncle must still be angry if Mandy won’t let him in on the sly.

Mickey sniffs back snot, then spits on the porch. He hopes he’s not getting a goddamn cold. “Will you at least let me in after I beat the shit out of Ian?”

Mandy tugs on a lock of her hair. “If Uncle Ronnie will let me.”

“That’s some award-winning gratitude right there.”

“You got to know that I want to let you in,” Mandy whines. “But if I do he’ll kick me out with you and—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not a moron.” Mickey adjusts his coat and scratches his cheek, moving dirt from his skin to under his fingernails. “Guess I’ll just keep smelling like a pig sty.”

He’ll probably knock Ian back with his stench, won’t even have to hit him.

“If it makes you feel any better, the water’s turned off, so you couldn’t shower anyway,” Mandy says. “Nobody paid the bill again.”

“You look squeaky fucking clean for a girl who’s got no running water at home.”

Mandy picks at her cuticles. A tell that means shame. “I showered at a friend’s house last night.”

“Ah. That code for ‘fucked a dude in exchange for basic hygiene’?”

Mandy grabs a crumpled beer can off the porch and lobs it at him. Mickey catches it and passes it between his hands. Left, right. Left, right.

“Maybe I should hit up Angie Zhago. Trade a ride on my dick for a bath.”

And a bed. Speckled bruises cover his right side from the cracked pavement and gravel he slept on last night.

“Are you going to beat up Ian or stand here all day with your thumb up your butt?” Mandy asks.

Mickey turns away, shoots his sister the bird over his shoulder, and hurries down the steps.

He could go to the shelter for a shower and a hot meal, but he’d rather stay freezing, filthy, and hungry than deal with a bunch of homeless assholes. Half of them are plain batshit, most would steal his stuff if he doesn’t take it into the shower with him, and plenty are actual rapists (unlike Ian) who’ll think he’s an easy target because he’s young and short.

No shower, no food. Time to find his brothers, or maybe some cousins, and get down to business.

Read more of If You Have a Problem on AO3

***

AN: I swore to post the first chapter of If You Have a Problem before the end of the day, and I did it! (barely lol)

Tagging some kind folks who expressed interest on my teaser posts

@poisonedquiver @marstheterrible @5ammi90 @freitasgst @darlingian @ianandmickeygallavich1 @definenormalifyoucan @jadejabbers @ifconfusionwasaperson @machinegunbieber-blog @callivich @tsuga-of-mars

Many thanks to everyone who supported my teasers, as well as my wonderful betas @bawlbrayker and @hamspamandjamsandwich <3

[medusapelagia]

Learning to Love 3

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,..)

Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve /Billy Tags: enemies to lovers, Steve has migrains, Tommy being an assh*le, homophobic language Words: 1261

The next day he parks his beloved Camaro close to Steve’s car, and everyone at school stares at him, waiting to see if he will slash the other boy’s tires or something, but he gets out of the car and goes to Mrs. Johnson's class and glares at the girl sitting at Steve’s side.

“I think this is my seat.”

“It isn’t… you sit in the back…” The girl squeaks but when he leans on the her table she takes her things and quickly leaves, moving toward Billy’s old place.

“What are you doing?” Steve asks, staring suspiciously at Billy.

“We are partners now, aren’t we?”

Billy usually doesn’t take notes during classes, for him it is enough listening to the lesson and doing some exercise at home, but this time he writes down everything in his neat handwriting. When class ends, he tears off the pages and gives them to Steve.

“I’ll come tomorrow to your place, try to read my notes and make a list of the questions you might have, ok?”

Steve nods, confused, but thanks him as he takes the notes and goes to his next class. 

Hagan gets closer to Billy while they walk together in the corridors “What are you doing? I thought you hated him. Are you planning a prank on him?”

Billy shakes his head, annoyed, “Mrs. Johnson asked me to tutor him and that’s what I’m going to do. I need it for my college application.”

“Since when?” Tommy insists “You have straight As in every subject, why do you need to babysit Harrington?”

“Because it will look good on my transcript, ok? Do you have a problem with that? Would you rather prefer I babysit you? Or maybe you would like to be the one babysitting Harrington?” Billy snarls and Tommy lifts his hands in surrender.

“Calm down! You are fucking crazy, you know that, right? I know Steve, we were best friends, did you forget that? But you two have nothing in common and I’m just wondering what you can talk about. Girls? Sex?”

“Math.” Billy replies, leaving Hagan staring at his back.

Why the fuck did he care what they talk about? He is just tutoring Steve, that’s all.

***

“That’s not bad. You got the first part of the exercise, you just got a little bit confused here.” Billy says, making a red circle on Steve’s exercise “You see? You forgot to multiply those two.”

Steve curses and closes the book with anger “I will never pass the final, ok? I should just give up!”

“You are doing so much better. You just need to concentrate a little more…”

“Concentrate a little more? My head is going to explode, I have a migraine that is killing me and you want me to do more? I can’t, I really can't, ok?” Steve yells, covering his eyes with one arm.

“Do you have a headache?” Billy whispers in a soft tone of voice.

“It was a headache when you got here. Now is a fucking migraine. I think I’ll just lie on the bed for a bit. You can leave if you want, I don’t think I’ll be able to do any other exercise.” Steve sighs, wobbling toward his bed.

“There is anything I can do? Do you need a cold compress? Some water?”

“A cold compress would be great. And if you could turn off the lights please.”

Billy hums, turns off the lights, and goes into the bathroom to get a wet towel and then he gently cleanses Steve’s sweaty face with it.

“You don’t have to do it. I can do it on my own.” Steve protests weakly.

Billy doesn’t reply and gives Steve the cold compress “Did you book an appointment at the eye doctor?” Billy whispers in the semi darkness.

“You know I didn’t.”

“I could book it for you,” Billy proposes. “You won’t even know when it is and you won’t get anxious about it.”

“This is stupid.” Steve sighs, still covering his eyes with an arm “I should be able to get my shit together. I’m not a kid!”

“I’m your tutor, I can tutor you through this.”

Steve chuckles, cursing because laughing makes his migraine even worse, then he finally agrees. “Book me a fucking appointment with an eye doctor.”

Billy nods, even if Steve can’t see, and goes down to the kitchen, he calls Susan, asks her for the doctor's number, and books an appointment for Steve, it feels a strange kind of warmth inside thinking that he is taking care of someone else because he wants to, because he offered to. Maybe there is still hope. Maybe Billy’s destiny is not to become like his father.

***

On the day of the doctor's appointment, Billy drives Steve and stays with him all the time. To anyone who asks why he is there, the California boy replies that he is the designated driver, and when Steve comes out with a glass prescription he drives him to the nearest shop to buy a pair of glasses. After having some fun trying some very strange pair of glasses and almost buying a pair of matching heart-shaped glasses just to piss off the owner of the shop, Steve chooses a simple model of golden rounded glasses. Afterwards, they go celebrate with burgers and milkshakes, Steve’s treat. 

But the pretty boy feels too self-conscious about the glasses. He tells Billy that he looks like a dork, even if mBilly disagrees strongly. He almost tells Steve that he looks cute, but he learned in California that telling another boy that he is cute is not something you can do, so he just says that he looks like a librarian, which somehow Steve takes as an insult. In the end they agree that Steve will wear the glasses only at home when they study together.

The glasses help Steve a lot and, without an impending headache or migraine, he can concentrate more easily, and when Mrs. Johnson gives them the final test results Billy is not surprised to see a big B+ on Steve’s test.

“So it’s true. You really do work miracles, Hargrove.” Tommy says, snatching Steve’s test from his hands “How did you do it? Did you hit him with the math book until some of it got into Steve’s thick head?” Hagan laughs, but Steve doesn’t reply, he gets his test back and leaves the classroom without even looking at him.

“What the fuck, Hagan?” Billy growls, pushing him against the wall “What do you want from my fucking life? Don’t you have a girlfriend to piss off?”

“What I want to know is what are you up to, Hargrove! I mean, the boys told me but I said, ‘Hargrove? No fucking way!’ Now I’m wondering if I was wrong all along.”

Billy glares at Tommy with his cold blue eyes “What are you implying, Hagan?”

Tommy gets closer and whispers “The boys were saying that you moved to Hawkins after your father saw you fucking another boy. Or maybe it was him who was fucking you?”

“How dare you say something like that to me.” He yells, lifting Tommy by his collar.

Hagan trembles, trying to free himself “I’m sorry. That’s what the boys said! And you are always with Harrington these days so we assumed…”

“You assumed wrong.” Billy snarls, pushing Hagan so hard against the wall that his head hits the wall with a loud thump. “And the next time you want to assume something about me I will not be so generous.”

[raincitygirl76]

So, Willesworld on AO3 just released a fantastic Wilmon fic set post-Season 2 which absolutely justifies the AO3 tag “filth with feelings”. This is mostly sex, but it’s so them, the whole thing. So well characterized, with them talking through the embarrassment etc as they try something new in bed.

Therefore, I present to you, “That which lives and grows and breathes”, because it’s a beautiful piece of character work which is simultaneously hot as hell. Go and read, and don’t forget to leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed it.

I’m not sure if Willesworld is on Tumblr or not. If they are, I’ll edit this post to add their Tumblr username.

@k-pepp was kind enough to let me know that the author is indeed on Tumblr. They’re @willesworld here as well as on AO3.

Go, read! It’s so good, you won’t regret it!

[faegoddessog]

Woman in Red Ch. 7/17

Chapter 7: Stay Still and Let Me

Series Summary: She's a very successful woman who can't seem to find a partner that can keep up with her. He is just wanting to find someone who likes him for HIM, not his fame. Neither of them are prepared for what hits them when she walks into that coffee shop.

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, Unprotected PiV (play safe ya'll!), sexual control,

A/N: In this story, I make no mention of birth control or condoms or STI's. Please, darlings, please love yourself enough to protect yourself appropriately when you have sex. <3

Message me or leave in in a comment if you'd like to be added or removed from my tagged list!

@purejasmine @slowsweetlove @richardslady121 @austinbutlerslovers

Here is the Woman in Red Masterlist

Here is the link to all my posted work: My Dirty Little, and not so little Stories.

Chapter 7: Stay Still and Let Me

He had taken her to the shower, washed them both off and tucked her into bed. The sky was barely starting to lighten. She picked up a remote and the curtains closed over the windows. He slipped in behind her under the covers, savoring being clean as he curled around her. She was already falling asleep.

Her eyes flutter open to a clothed, if slightly rumpled, Austin, sitting on the edge of the bed. The smell of coffee wafts into her nose.

“Hey, good morning, afternoon actually,” he brushes her hair out of her face.

“Hi,” her voice groggy. 

“I made you coffee,” he offers her a mug, “I hope you don’t mind me snooping around your kitchen.” 

“To bring me coffee in bed? Not at all,” she sits up, not bothering to cover her naked breasts and takes the proffered mug. It’s perfectly made, with foam on top. The idea of him being domestic, puttering around her kitchen makes her smile. 

“Listen, I uh, have a barrage of online interviews in”  he checks his watch, “about 3 hours, so I gotta get going.”  

“But, what about breakfast,” she rubs her eyes. “I can make something or order in?”

“I have a feeling if I stay for breakfast today, I’ll never leave, because I won’t be able to keep my hands off you,” Austin‘s middle finger rubs back and forth on her forearm. It makes her shiver.

“And that’s a bad thing?” Aya asks, leveling her eyes at him. 

“Well, no, but if I bail, my publicist will kill me,” he shows her a barrage of texts reminding him about the interviews. “Plus, it’d be unprofessional and rude.”

She nods, that she can respect. He’d already proven he was a man of his word. The memory makes her spine tingle. He had indeed fucked her six ways to Sunday and it was only Friday. 

Austin’s eyes go soft as she nods. He doesn’t actually want to go. Blurry eyed, half naked and hair mussed with a bed head, she is the sexiest thing he has seen. He can feel himself getting hard again. Yeah, he had better go. 

“When can I see you again?” be blurts out, more desperate sounding than he meant. 

Aya smiles and sips her coffee, she likes him begging just a little. It was hot. 

“I have a benefit dinner thing tomorrow night? It’s Friday right now, yes?” Austin nods in response,”so the rest of the weekend is shot for me.” 

Austin frowns a little and is about to ask why not Sunday, but she presses on. 

“Are you free next weekend?”

He nods. 

“Meet me here, ” she texts him an address.

“When?” he asks, not looking at his dinging phone. 

“Hmm,” she ponders “Surprise me, I’ll be there starting Friday morning. You can stay all weekend if you want. Text me when you get to the gate.”

Naked, she walks him to the elevator as only her key card will let him out. ‘Trapped in her Sex Tower, indeed,’ he thinks to himself.  The kiss goodbye nearly ends in him laying her on the marble floor of the foyer and fucking her while he was still clothed. At least, that’s what she whispered in his ear. He gritted his teeth and took a rain check. She just giggled. 

.....................................................

Austin’s fingers inside her was all she could think about on the airplane to New York that night. His arms around her after she came so hard  kept flashing into her mind as she graciously accepted the recognition at the benefit dinner. His cock in her is what she thought about as she fingered herself in her New York apartment. The meetings she had in the city Monday and Tuesday went inextricably well, despite the fact that the man who brought her coffee both days was blonde haired and blue eyed and slim. The thought of taking this man home for the night flitted across her mind, but she has rules regarding work and sex. Austin’s delectable kisses occupied her mind as she sipped her whisky sour soda on her plane ride Tuesday night. 

“Good morning!” Dalia walks into her office all chipper, shutting the door behind her. The second the door closes she whirls on her partner.  “No texts, no phone call. Jetting off to New York. I cannot believe you have kept me waiting this long,” she sets croissants and coffee down on the table. 

“You know I’m terrible with texting,” she tries to keep her response casual. The truth is, she never even considered texting Dalia, her mind was so preoccupied with Austin.

Dalia crosses her arms and utters one word,  “spill.” 

Suddenly, it’s like they are teenagers again. Aya covers her face with her hands. “Oh my god Dal,” her voice is muffled, “it was….” she shakes her head. 

“No, he was THAT bad? Ok I forgive you then, no one wants to relive bad sex.” Dalia assumes. 

“Oh no” Aya opens her hands, looking in earnest at her best friend,  “he was THAT good. Seriously Dal, I think it was the best sex I’ve had. He fucking brought me perfect coffee in bed, in my own house.”

“You brought him upstairs?” a sly smile crosses Dalia’s face, “you’ve not done that in a while. You must really like him.” 

“Well I hadn’t planned on it. He brought me back here and I made him a drink and then… he kissed me and I just could not wait. He wanted to do the deed right here,” Aya taps her desk. 

“Oooo, and you don’t mix business and pleasure, not like that,” Dalia agrees. 

“Can you imagine me sitting here trying to work after that? No way,” Aya shakes her head. 

“Did you wear him out?” Dalia’s eyes waggle. 

“Girl, he fucking wore me out… ME!” Aya says, astonished. 

“Oooo, You may have finally met your match, sistah. Please tell me you are going to see him again,” Dalia pleads. 

“He’s coming to the beach house this weekend,” she smiles sheepishly. 

“Aya, first your apartment here, then the Malibu house? Hunny, do I hear the dulcet tones of a budding romance?” Dalia has wondered for a while if Aya will ever ‘fall in love’ again. Watching her friend’s face as she talks about Austin Butler is the closest she’s seen to it  in years. 

“Dal,” Aya is a mask of  matter of fact and seriousness,” I’ve told you, I put romance aside a long time ago. Nope, this is just about fantastic sex. Besides, I've trained myself out of that ‘orgasm equals love’ response.”

‘Closed off is more like it- after Antoni,’ Dalia thinks. She just nods in response, keeping her thoughts to herself. 

............................................................

Austin did his interviews, luckily he had a lot of practice keeping his personal life out of the spotlight. Plus, by now the interviewers knew and respected him enough to know that they’d not get anything from him. But thoughts of Aya floated just under the surface. Her laugh, her shameless way concerning sex, her playfulness and surprises. He couldn't stop smiling, even alone at his house going about his daily routines. He dreamed about her body contorted in pleasure under him, over him, because of him. He woke up every morning to thoughts about her mouth around his cock. Jesus. Her mouth. Try as he might to go about his normal life, he knew deep down it was forever changed. 

“Tell me about this,” Ashley says from across the table. His sister was in town for a day or so and they never missed the chance to meet up. They had always stuck together through thick and thin. She is handing him her phone. He takes it, with a smile. It’s a tabloid website with pictures of him and Aya in that sexy red dress drinking coffee, he is smiling at her. 

“Go ahead and swipe,” she says, shaking her head. 

The next photo is of Aya leaning against him taking a selfie, then another of him looking over her shoulder. It seems he is looking at her phone, but he remembers this moment distinctly. He was staring down her cleavage. The last is him wrapping his arms around her in a hug outside the coffee shop. She is on tip toe and his face is buried in her hair. 

“Hmm” he stalls, pretending not to remember, “it’s probably just some fan that I met,” he smiles and tries to brush it off, handing Ashley her phone back. 

“Oh Austin,” she shakes her head, “Who do you think you are talking to? I KNOW you Austin. This, “she gestures to her phone, “isn’t your fan-meeting smile.  Everything about you in these pictures says you are intrigued by this woman. Who is she?” 

He was a trained actor and a damn good one at that. But he couldn’t lie to his sister and had never been able to lie to her. 

“Her name is Aya,” he states. 

“Mmm hmmm, and where did we meet Aya?”  she presses.

Austin just raises his eyebrows and  pointedly gestures to Ashely’s phone. 

“Wait, that was it?” she is flabbergasted, “what are you some kind of main character in a romance novel or something?” 

“Maybe,” he shakes his head and laughs. 

“I assume she in the industry?” Ashley’s voice has a resigned tone. Ever since he blew up,   women were always trying to get to her brother, hoping he could  help them get a break, hoping to get into his bed, hoping to touch him just once. She hated it. He was such an amazing person and he deserved so much better. Besides, she was his big sister, it was her job to help him, protect him. She had promised as much to their mom. 

“Not even a little, she owns her own investment firm. She seems really successful, owns the building her office is in and a couple others. She didn’t know me at all when we met. It was awesome.” He lights up as he talks about her. Maybe this one would be different.   Ashley just wants to see her little brother happy.

........................................................

In his Alfa Romeo Gulia, Austin drives up the PCH. It’s a gorgeous California day. His left hand is stretched out the window, the one with the small 27 tattooed on it. He is playing with the wind like a kid. Like he remembers doing in the car with his mom. He missed her fiercely, especially any time he was driving alone. That was a mantel he wore all the time, though. She would want him to be happy, to live life to its fullest. And that is, exactly  what he is on his way to do, live some life, find some joy, maybe even some love. 

He follows his phone map’s directions to turn off into a clearly residential neighborhood. He drives by a horse crossing sign. There are only the barest glimpses of houses through the vegetation and different types of walls and barriers. He comes to a cul-de-sac and stops in front of a simple looking wooden gate posted with the number she gave him. He checks his watch, it’s 2:30. He wonders if he should wait a bit, just so he doesn't seem too eager, but then decides his pride would just waste time. Besides, he is eager. Eager to just spend time with her, eager  to hold her, eager to sink his cock into her.

He opens his text app only to realize that he has not texted her since he left last Friday, and that was just a thumbs up. Fuck, he was so bad at texting!

He sighs and thumbs in, “Surprise! I’m here!” 

He waits about 3 minutes in increasing worry that he has the wrong place. Then she sends a thumbs up emoji and the gates start to open in front of him. The driveway is long and curved. The fences on either side show peeks of manicured property and huge sprawling homes, if you could call something like that a ‘home’. Finally the driveway gives way to a circle. All he can see of the house is the double garage door and a gate. The rest is hidden by a hedge. 

He parks and walks to the gate, his backpack tossed over his shoulder. He can hear the rushing waves of the ocean beyond. He loves the ocean, a California boy at heart. 

He doesn’t see a door bell or anything, so he tries the latch on the gate. He was sure he was going to find some kind of secret tunnel or hidden mansion behind the gate. The modest ranch home he discovers is  both surprising and intriguing. It is obviously well kept and cared for. He spies a camera doorbell at the door and pushes it. He waits for about a minute, hoping again, that he has the right home.  

“Hey Austin, come on in,” Aya’s sleepy voice finally comes through, “’m napping. Come find me” 

He isn't sure he heard her right, when the lock whirrs and clicks. He tentatively opens the door  into a simple entryway. To the right is an open concept galley kitchen with a dining table beyond. In front of him is a sitting area with a huge sliding glass wall that is open to a deck out the back of the house. The interior is bright and light, accented with an array of blues and blue greens.  

“Aya?” he inquires, closing the door behind him with a soft click. It feels a little weird just walking into someone’s house. She didn’t volunteer any information about this place. Is it hers? Does she live here with someone? He sets his bag on the entry table looking on the couch to see if she is there. 

A cat purrs around his legs. 

“Hey kitty,” he bends down to pet the soft gray fur, “do you know where Aya is?” 

As if it actually understands him, the cat meows and walks down the hallway to the left, pausing to look over its shoulder, waiting for him to follow. He passes a bathroom to the right, two guest bedrooms to the left, which are devoid of life. At the end, the hallway turns to the right. He can see another set of huge glass sliding doors at the end of the room beyond. There is a big bed with Aya shaped curves in it.  He follows the cat through the open door. The cat jumps up on the bed and nudges her hand,

“Yes Kato, I know he’s here, thank you.” Kato purrs to himself and curls up at her feet. 

“Hey, I’m sorry, you said to surprise you, right?” there is doubt in his voice.

“I did, welcome to my weekend house,” she rolls over to look at him, naked breast peeking out from underneath the sheet, “I was just resting up. I have a feeling someone is going to keep me up past my bedtime tonight. Now take off your clothes and snuggle me.” She tosses the covers back behind her and rolls back over to face the open door and the ocean. 

‘Snuggle me?’ she thinks, since when did she ask a boy toy to snuggle?  ‘Since Austin’, the little voice in her head says. It slowly creeps into her mind that he may be far more than a boy toy. She is grateful that she is facing away from him when this thought strikes her. 

He shrugs and starts to take his shirt off.  It’s the weirdest way he’s ever been invited into a house: no greeting at the door, hide and seek with a cat, then told to remove his clothing?  But this is also the lady with secret passageways in her office and a mouth so sublime it made him do a 180 on his opinion of blow jobs. Once she flips the covers back, he can see her naked back and top of her butt cheeks.  He starts to get hard just looking at her skin. What’s he gonna do, tell her no? He strips down, draping his clothes neatly on a nearby chair. He slides between the soft sheets. Pressing himself to her back.

“Mmmm, that’s perfect” she says, twining her hand in his under the pillow. 

She takes a big breath and her whole body relaxes against him, her breathing deepens. He  decides there is no harm in just resting his eyes and enjoying being close to her. After all, they have time. 

.........................

Aya stretches and cracks her eyes, the yellow orb of the sun is thinking about setting into the ocean. 

“That is a gorgeous sunset,” she sighs. 

“Not as gorgeous as you,” a low voice rumbles in her ear. He had clearly been awake.  A hand drifts from her rear, over the curve of her hip and into the dip of her waist. Goosebumps spring up on her skin. 

She turns to face him with a smile on her lips. 

“I bet you say that to all the women who invite you over for naps,” she giggles. 

“I mean,  if you are done napping, I could go…. ” he smiles at her, moving closer.

“Well that would ruin all my plans for the evening,” her voice is low and sultry. 

“Oh you actually have plans? And here I thought this bed was where we were gonna spend the weekend,” he rolls himself partially onto her and pushes himself up on his arms.

“How is that not a plan?” her eyebrow arching in mild protest, her tongue darting out in provocation. 

He is poised above her, one leg between hers. All the nerves of a first date gone, just the excitement of knowing how good it was last time and suspecting an ever better time tonight.     He has been thinking about her non-stop, thinking about this moment, about having her naked under him. About sinking into her. Fuck he is nearly shaking with desire.  He pushes his mouth eagerly to hers. It’s all he’s wanted for hours, days.  

He’s a little too forceful, a little too desperate to get his tongue in her mouth. She grabs his jaw, her thumb under his chin. He is nearly too far gone, dipping his head down to her, leading with his tongue, until she squeezes and he freezes.

“No, let me,” she says into his mouth.

“Let you what?” he holds still on all fours arching cat-like above her. 

“Shhhh,”  her head arches up to him. Her lips gently press onto his. Her tongue laving at his bottom lip as she sucks it into her mouth slowly. She takes her time in kissing him just as she wants, her hand tight on his jaw. Little mewls of desire escape from his chest. Her control of him is wildly erotic. 

She feels a cool drip onto her belly. His swollen cock is suspended between them, aching for attention. 

“Jesus Austin, you are dripping,” her free hand slips between them. 

He has forgotten that he’s not situated fully on top of her yet. He wants her to grip him fully, guide him to her warm wetness. She doesn’t. One light fingertip flutters across his tiny hole,  his breath hitches and he groans in her ear.  His hips pulse forward, trying to get more, anything more.

“Ah ah ah” she admonishes, tightening her grip on his jaw again “stay still and let me”. 

Her forefinger draped over the top of his shaft and her middle under, she holds him steady with minimal contact. Her thumb is positioned perfectly at his tip to swipe lightly back and forth, gathering the fluid more than spreading it. She lets him go and brings her precum-covered thumb to her mouth. She smears a little on her lip, like lip gloss, then drags the delicious, viscous fluid across her tongue. Moaning, she rubs it against the roof of her mouth. Her eyes flutter closed in enjoyment.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes. The clear pleasure in her tasting of him is unbelievably sexy. He’s never been this close, this poised to fuck and been made to wait purely for the anticipation. It’s only the force of her quiet words that is keeping him still, he’s not even entirely sure why. 

She lifts her mouth to his, Austin finds his own tongue drawn to her shiny bottom lip. He sucks his own salty fluid from her, the effect is intoxicating. The sensation of light pressure returns to his shaft and her thumb slipping up and over his little, weeping hole, then back again. He lowers to his elbows and buries his head into the crook of her neck. He is holding the rest of his body still but his mouth latches onto her neck, groaning and sucking. He is shaking, wild with desire. It’s too much and it’s not enough. Maddening is what it is.

She is reveling in this measured torture of his cock. He’s wet enough now that she expands her tiny stroke to his frenulum. It's a power play, but so much more. Hearing his deep seething groans, giving him just a fraction of sensation in just the right spots, building up his desire one tiny stroke at a time; it is all turning her wildly on.  It’s like stoking a train engine. She knows that once she lets him loose, he will fuck her senseless. It’s what she wants eventually. But right now, she wants to make his body beg. 

His whole world has come down to the tiny movement of her thumb on the head of his cock. He barely registers when she nudges his outer leg with her own. He lifts his knee and she moves so he’s between her legs. He is still hovering above her, still on his knees and elbows. His cock still aching for her.

“Stay right there,” she whispers in his ear.

He just nods, having, for the moment, giving in to her authority. She tilts her hips under him, wet lips barely touching his tip. It’s all he can do not to groan at the warmth, at the promise. She lifts a little higher, holding him steady and spreading her lips apart.  He realizes he isn’t lined up with her vagina, but with her clit. The hard little nub rubbing his dripping little orifice. Clit to tip, she starts humping up to him, working herself against him. Her breath is hot on his shoulder as she pants. His fists clamp down onto the pillow under her head. It’s positively salacious being used like this. He finds that he fucking loves it. 

As Aya gyrates under him, she is surprised that he is still letting her toy with him like this. All it would take is a little tilt of his hips and a thrust and he would be buried in her slick. Her clit feels hot and swollen as she works it against him. She is perilously close to pulling him into her and letting him go wild. She wants it so badly. She angles him down to her wet rift. His breath seethes as he struggles to hold onto control. 

With her hands pressing on his ass she says, “down just a little”. It's a gamble, he could easily just give in to his carnal nature. He doesn’t. He stops when his head is just inside her.  She rides him up and down, groaning into his neck. Her hands clamped onto his hips. Austin moans at how hot her pussy is, how her lips seem to suck at his cock. 

“More,” she pulls at his ass. He lowers just a fraction of an inch. 

“I want you deep,” she moans. 

He hears the fraction of a plea in her voice and suddenly the tables turn on a dime. His jaw tightens and his eyes narrow. He captures her hands from his ass, one at a time, and pins them over her head. 

“Do you now?” It takes all his acting training to keep his voice measured. He lifts away from her, tip just in her. 

“Fuck me,” her eyes are a little wild, suddenly not getting what she wants, what she needs.

“Say please,” his jaw is tight, it’s taking all he has not to give in. 

Aya’s lip curls as she looks at him through her lashes. She bites her lip trying to decide how rebellious she should be in this sudden game. She presses against his strong grip. Her hips are vibrating, she can feel her wetness pooling. Fuck he is amazing. 

“Please, Austin,” she gives in. Afterall, he played the good little sub for her, it’s only fair. 

“Please what, Aya,” she can see he is on his last straw. 

“Please. Fuck my needy pussy.” Orange light from the sunset flares into the room, highlighting his divine form above her.

He plunges in deep. Their moans echo one another, chests pressed together. 

“Say it again,” his voice rumbles in her ear.

“Please, Austin, please fuck me,” she breathes low in his ear.

She swears she hears a growl as he withdraws and pushes in again and again and again. 

It’s fucking nirvana after all the anticipation, days and days of anticipation. 

.......................................................................

It’s twilight out now. They are lying in a tangle of sheets. Both trying to  recover the air in their lungs from their exertions. He had held her face in his hands as he plunged in and out of her. She had clung to him, nails leaving little half moons on his ass. It was fairly straightforward, both of them just wanting the other. As soon as she had moaned “Oh god, I’m cumming’ in his ear and she had arched her stomach against him, his hips scooped forward, pushing hard and he let loose his cum into her. 

“Oh god, Austin, I needed that,” Aya says, brushing the hair from her face. She feels uncommonly good with him still inside her, his body weight on top of her. 

“Me too,” his voice is muffled in her neck. “Honestly,” he lifts his head, vulnerability in his eyes, “I’ve been thinking of nothing but doing that to you all week.”

Aya presses her lips in a smile. There is no way she is ready to admit out loud that it was the same for her. She could barely admit it to herself. 

Austin sees her face and mistakes it for skepticism. He pulls back and out of her. Watching her eyes roll back in her head a little. She is so responsive to his every move.  

He nearly slides back into her, just to watch her. Instead he lays next to her, propped up on his elbow. 

“Hey, um… I’m uh…” he bites his lip. “Listen, I’m sorry and I should have told you this last weekend before I left,” his words tumble out fast. Aya is frowning and pulling back. It dawns on him just how bad that could sound. He rushes on to explain, “but I’m sorry I didn’t call or text you or anything. I really did think of you all week. It’s just that I’m terrible with my phone, half the time I don’t even know where it is.” 

At first, Aya was waiting for him to admit some sort of misdeed like: ‘I’ve got a girlfriend’, ‘I’m a Scientologist’, ‘I’m actually Austin Butler’s secret twin’. When he apologizes for not texting she just refrains from bursting out laughing.  

“Austin, I am not upset by that? You’ll note that I didn’t text you either. I figure you had a busy week, I sure did. I knew I was going to see you, so I didn’t fret about it. Truth be told, I am crap at texting people too.”

He blows out breath in a huff. “Ok good. It’s just been a bone of contention with other girlf- other women in the past.” 

She notes, but doesn't outwardly acknowledge that he almost said ‘other girlfriends’, implying that he was already thinking of her as his next. ‘I will have to manage expectations early on with this one,’ she thinks to herself. 

“Austin, I am not some young thing that needs constant contact or constant buttressing of my worth. You can consider it one of the perks of-” the words ‘dating me’ nearly fell out of her mouth. Whose expectations are we managing here? “-of an older woman,” she finally says. 

“Not that it matters to me at all, but when I find out your age someday, am I going to be shocked?” he grins. 

“What makes you think you are going to find out,” she winks at him as she stands, heading for the bathroom. In reality, she actually doesn’t care if he finds out, it’s just fun to be mysterious.