#and I had to tell them not yet because the doctors were doing something

[lura-valentine]

Hint

Set in the world of My Hero Academia / Boku no Hero Academia

Ongoing story – updates will follow

Multi-chapter fanfiction

Chapters will be linked as soon as they’re published

All characters belong to Kōhei Horikoshi, except for Rain and the mysterious man

Ship – DabiHawks × feminine OC

–> To Rain's Profil (OC)

Please note: English is not my first language, so there may be some small mistakes.

Concept of this fanfiction

Since the final war with the League of Villains, Touya has been dying. The doctors gave him only a few weeks, if at all, a few months, but the stubborn son of fire surprised everyone when he was still alive after 16 years.

He was only a shadow of his former self, trapped by vital machines, but something was keeping him alive, as if there was something else he needed to know...

Overview

Part 1 ☆ Part 2 ☆ Part 3 ☆ Part 4 ☆ Part 5 (W.I.P)

Rains Part

The weather had changed, and thick drops of water rained mercilessly onto the roofs of the city, the rhythmic drumming breaking the silence of the night. Rain landed heavily on one of the taller buildings, her wings trembling from effort and anger. She pulled the soaked hood over her head and staggered forward a few steps, then sank to her knees. Her fingers dug into the rough concrete and a hoarse sound escaped her throat - a mixture of frustration, pain, and the echo of old memories.

Keigo's face, his words, his determination to stand in her way... "If you want Fischer, you’ll have to get past me..." The scene played over and over in her head. His look, that mixture of sadness and strength, had hit her hard. She could never forget him, and she knew that a part of her would never let him go. But why did he stand up for this man of all people? Why couldn't he understand?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a powerful flap of wings. She felt the cold presence before she saw him. The mysterious man landed a few meters behind her, his wings spread threateningly as he looked at her. Drops of water ran down his hood and his turquoise eyes glowed with anger.

"What the hell was that down there?!" His voice was loud, his words piercing the darkness like a knife. "You could have killed him! You had him right in front of you, and yet... nothing. Why did you hesitate?"

Rain took a deep breath before rising to her feet. She turned around slowly, her hands shaking slightly, but her voice was calm and firm as she spoke. "I had my reasons, Kaji."

"Reasons?!" He took a step closer, his gaze icy. "Your 'reasons' almost cost us the entire mission! We had him in our hands, and you... you let some sentimental crap stop you from finishing the job?!"

Rain held his gaze, even though her eyes shone with sadness and tiredness. "I won't let anything stop me, Kaji. I don't make my decisions lightly." Her voice grew cooler. "Perhaps you should learn that not every mission goes perfectly. But no, you don't know any different, do you?"

“What does that mean?” asked Kaji, his voice getting louder, but Rain remained calm.

"You're just like your father," she said, and there was something in her voice that Kaji couldn't quite read - something bitter and painful at the same time. "Impulsive, always angry when things don't go the way you want them to. Do you think that will help you?"

"My father?" Kaji's eyes narrowed and his wings twitched uncontrollably. "You never spoke about him. Not once. And now you're making comparisons like that?"

Rain closed her eyes for a moment, as if trying to organize her thoughts. "Because there was nothing I wanted to talk about, Kaji. Your father was complicated... and I did enough to protect you from the shadows of his past."

"Protect?!" Kaji laughed bitterly, his voice now shaking with emotion. "From what? From the truth? From yourself? Or from what he really was? Tell me, finally tell me who he was!"

Rain was silent. Her hands clenched into fists, but she held his gaze. "You're not ready to know yet."

"Not ready?" Kaji stepped closer, his flames beginning to dance faintly around his hands - blue and ice-cold. "I'm not the little child you can control anymore. I have the right to know. Or are you trying to tell me he was just as much of a coward as Fischer?"

That was when Rain lost it. She took a step toward Kaji, her face inches from his. Her red eyes glowed like hot coals. "Stop saying things you don't know! Your father was many things, but he was never a coward. And you... you're just as stubborn as he is." She breathed heavily, then lowered her voice. "Maybe I should have told you the truth. Maybe I should have told you that he..." She stopped, her voice breaking, and she turned away abruptly.

Kaji was speechless for a moment. It was the first time he had seen Rain like this - broken, vulnerable, unsure. "Mom..." He sounded calmer now, almost gentle. "Then at least tell me why you hesitated with Hawks. Do you know him?"

Rain took a deep breath, as if the words were a heavy weight she had been carrying for years. She turned to him slowly and looked deep into his eyes. Her red eyes were filled with a weary clarity. "I'm sorry, Kaji," she said quietly, her voice rough with all the unspoken feelings. "I'm sorry for keeping the truth from you for so long. I know you're old enough to understand who your father was. You will get your answers, but not here."

Kaji wanted to say something, but he stopped. It was as if he absorbed the weight of her words and it seeped into him.

"For the next step in this mission..." She paused and closed her eyes for a moment, as if preparing for something, "...I would have had to tell you who your father is anyway. The person we are going to now will recognize you immediately and they will ask questions."

Rain looked at the rain falling like little blades on the roofs and then continued. "This person is our only chance to catch Fischer. She is the only one who can still help us."

Kaji nodded, and despite the anger and confusion building up inside him, he knew Rain was right. There was too much at stake for him to continue to argue.

Rain took one last deep breath, then turned to him. Her black wings spread in the cold, damp air. "Ready?" she asked, not hiding her determination, but her eyes betrayed how difficult the moment was for her too.

Kaji, still unsure what exactly to think of this whole drama, nodded. "Yes."

With one last look at the rain-soaked ground, Rain took off, her black wings beating once, and she rose into the sky. Kaji followed her, his bluish, shimmering wings breaking through the rain as he flew by her side into the darkness of the night.

Hawks Part

The rain fell in heavy curtains, turning the city streets into glittering mirrors. The light from the lanterns reflected in the puddles, offering an unreal contrast to the grim reality of the night. Hawks pulled his raincoat tighter around himself as he climbed the wide stairs to the police station. Shoto walked silently beside him, his shoulders slightly tense but his gaze as calm and focused as ever. The old stone walls of the station seemed even more oppressive in the darkness and rain than they already were, and the heavy wooden frame of the front door creaked under Hawks' hand as he opened it.

Inside, it was warmer, but no less bleak. The smell of wet fabric, stale coffee, and old paper hung in the air. Police officers scurried through the corridors with files in their hands, and the low hum of conversation was the background music that permeated everything. Hawks shook himself slightly, water dripping from his coat as he walked purposefully toward reception. Shoto followed him without a word, his footsteps echoing dully on the stone floor.

"I have to see Kenji," Hawks said curtly to the receptionist sitting at a small desk. She just nodded and pointed to the door at the end of the hall.

Hawks knocked twice before entering. The police chief, a tall man with a dog's head and sharp, piercing eyes, sat behind a massive desk covered with reports and files. His posture was as straight-backed and authoritative as ever, but when he saw Hawks and Shoto, he put down the file he had just been looking through and motioned for them to sit down.

"Hawks. Todoroki," he greeted them with a brief nod. His voice was deep and rough, with a certain authority as always. "I assume you're here because of Fischer."

"Exactly," Hawks replied, sinking into the chair in front of the desk. Shoto stood silently, arms folded, watching the exchange.

Kenji took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I have to admit that the situation is... difficult. We have him in custody, but without solid evidence, we cannot keep him for long."

Hawks nodded slowly. "I know there is no evidence at the moment. But we can't just let him go. Fischer has more dirt on his hands than meets the eye. We just have to dig deeper."

Kenji raised an eyebrow. "And what is this assumption based on?"

Hawks leaned forward slightly, his voice becoming more serious. "Someone I trust has made these allegations. She says that Fischer..." He paused for a moment, as if he was having difficulty saying it. "...that he is smuggling children across national borders under the guise of his logistics company."

Kenji stared at him, his eyes narrowing. "These are very serious allegations, Hawks. Who is this 'trustworthy person'?"

Hawks looked briefly at Shoto as if seeking support, but Shoto said nothing, his gaze remained cool and observant. Hawks turned back to Kenji. "Her name isn’t important. What matters is that she doesn't lie. If she says something, she has reasons for it."

Kenji snorted slightly. "Hawks, we both know how this works. Without proof, these are just words. Even if we dig deep into Fischer's past, there is no guarantee that we will find anything."

Shoto, who had been silent until now, took a step closer. "But if he were really innocent, he wouldn't react in such a panic," he said calmly. "Since his arrest, Fischer has done nothing but yell at his lawyer and try to pull strings to get him out.That's not the behavior of someone who has nothing to hide."

Kenji sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I understand your concerns. But this is no longer a heroic matter and we are working on evidence, not gut feeling."

Hawks leaned forward, his gaze burning into the police chief's. "This isn't a question of heroism, Kenji. This is a question of responsibility. You know as well as I do that some people are so good at hiding that they're never caught because no one has the courage to look closely. Fischer is one of those people. And if we let him go now because we don't want to dig, he'll go into hiding."

Kenji studied him for a long moment before grumbling quietly. "Fine. I'll put together a team to look into Fischer's enterprise. But if we don't find anything, Hawks, then he's free. I'm not going to go against the law, no matter how much you trust this person."

Hawks nodded, his expression showing no sign of triumph. "That's all I ask. Dig deep, Kenji. You'll find something."

Kenji looked at him once more before turning to Shoto. "And you? What do you think?"

Shoto shrugged his shoulders almost imperceptibly, but his voice was firm. "I trust Hawks and I think Fischer gives us a lot of reasons not to let him out of our sight."

Kenji stood up and tapped his hand lightly on the desk. "Then I will start the investigation. But remember: without results, this is over."

Hawks also stood up, his coat still slightly damp from the wetness he had brought in. "Thanks, Kenji."

Kenji just nodded and Shoto opened the door before they both stepped out into the hallway. The rain hadn't let up and the blurry points of light from the city could be seen through the windows. Hawks was silent, but his mind was racing.

Hawks closed the door of the police station behind him and a cold draft hit him. The rain had not let up, it still pelted heavily on the asphalt, stretching over the world like an endless curtain. The street lamps cast a dim light on the soaked vehicles parked in the parking lot, and the puddles beneath reflected the dull colors of the sky. Hawks pulled up the collar of his coat and shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he walked down the steps.

Shoto kept pace beside him, his face calm but thoughtful. He said nothing, and Hawks was almost grateful for the silence. There was too much going on inside him and too little he could put into words.

When they got downstairs, they both stood for a moment under the canopy, where the rain wasn't falling directly on them. Hawks leaned his back against one of the pillars and looked at Shoto out of the corner of his eye. "Shall I drive you home?" he finally asked, his voice sounding rougher than usual, almost hoarse.

Shoto shook his head without looking at him. His hands were in the pockets of his coat and his eyes seemed to be following the rain that was falling in endless streaks. "No, thank you. I prefer to walk. I... want to think a bit."

Hawks raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "Thinking? About what?"

Shoto hesitated for a moment before answering quietly, "About that man. The one with the blue ice flames." He lifted his gaze to meet Hawks’s with quiet intensity. "He was strong... dangerous. But something about him seemed... familiar to me."

Hawks nodded slowly, his eyes moving to a dark spot in the distance. "Yes... He reminded me of someone too." His voice became even quieter, almost like a whisper. "But sometimes it's better not to pursue such thoughts too deeply. They often lead to places you don't want to go."

Shoto let the words sink in for a moment before turning away. "Maybe. But I feel like I can't ignore these thoughts. Something about him... it won't let me go." He turned back to Hawks, his gaze piercing. "Thanks for offering to drive me home. We'll keep in touch about Fischer."

"Sure," Hawks said with a faint smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Take care, Shoto."

"You too," Shoto replied shortly before turning away and walking out into the rain. His dark cloak quickly became heavy from the wetness, but he walked away with firm steps, his silhouette slowly disappearing into the darkness.

Hawks stood there a moment longer, water droplets sliding along the edges of his coat, watching Shoto's figure disappear into the hazy mist. Then he exhaled quietly and turned toward his car.

The drive home was silent. The rain drummed on the roof of the car, the streets were empty, and the city lights passed by like blurred memories. Hawks held his hands loosely on the steering wheel, but his thoughts were far away. He saw Rain's face again, the determination in her eyes, but also the sadness that she could never completely hide.

When he finally reached the underground parking garage of his apartment building, the weather felt like a curse that had followed him all the way home. The garage door slowly closed behind him, and the crackling sound was muffled as he turned off the engine and got out. His footsteps echoed on the cold concrete floor, and he pushed the elevator button with a tired finger.

The elevator ride was short, yet it dragged like a lifetime. The mirror in the cabin showed his face, marked by tiredness and something he couldn't quite put his finger on - or didn't want to.

When he unlocked the door to his apartment, the silence was almost oppressive. Hawks took off his shoes and left them carelessly next to the door. The jacket of his suit landed on a nearby chair, its soaked corners leaving small marks on the wood.

He shuffled into the kitchen and switched on the light, which cast a cold white glow over the countertops. His fingers found the switch of the coffee machine as if by themselves, and the familiar whir of the machine filled the room.

Without waiting for the coffee, he went into the living room. The large window front offered a view of the rainy city, but Hawks paid no attention to it. His steps led him to the simple pedestal above the fireplace.

With a slow movement, he unfastened the sword from his belt and lifted it onto the pedestal. His fingers lingered on the scabbard for a moment, as if it had a weight of its own that was more than just metal.

"I miss you," Hawks murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. The sound was lost in the steady sound of rain hitting the window panes. The room remained cloaked in shadow, lit only by the faint shimmer of city lights bleeding through the rain-streaked windows.

"I miss you too, Keigo." The words were quiet, almost timid, but they hit him like a thunderclap.

Hawks froze. His heart skipped a beat, only to then thunder in a wild, uncontrollable rhythm. His thoughts exploded, racing around like birds suddenly startled from sleep. This couldn't be happening. This shouldn't be happening. His apartment was locked. How could—

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he turned around. Every muscle in his body was tense, as if he were about to fight at any moment. But what he saw took his breath away.

She stood on the threshold between the hall and the living room.

Rain.

The first impression was like a punch to the gut. Its outline was familiar – far too familiar for his heart not to react to it immediately. She looked more mature, and her shoulders now visibly bore the weight of years. But her face... her eyes... those deep red, intense eyes that glowed even in the twilight – they remained the same.

Hawks said nothing, he couldn't say anything. The words caught in his throat, frozen in the heat of the emotions coursing through him.

Rain took a tentative step forward. Her arms hung indecisively at her sides, as if unsure whether to wrap themselves protectively around herself or reach out to him.

"You..." She cleared her throat softly, her voice shaky, nervous. "You didn't lock your balcony door again, Keigo."

A faint, almost apologetic smile crossed her lips, but vanished immediately. "I... we stood outside for a while. I didn't know if I should really go in, but... I wanted to talk to you."

Hawks didn't move. He just stared at her, as if she might vanish into smoke at any moment, like a memory too beautiful.

"I..." Rain inhaled, her voice vibrating with the pressure of emotion. "I'm sorry. For just leaving. For leaving you... and Dabi alone. I should have explained it to you, I—"

A beep suddenly broke the tense silence. The coffee maker in the kitchen chimed in with a shrill sound, tearing Hawks out of his trance.

His head jerked to the side, then back to Rain. Something inside him broke – a dam he'd held for 16 years.

Without another word, without even thinking about it, he walked toward her. With two firm steps he stood directly in front of her. His arms wrapped around her. Strong, desperately searching for support.

Rain gasped in surprise, her lips parted, but no sound came out. She felt his heartbeat pounding against her chest – felt his fingers clawing at her back, as if he were afraid she might vanish into thin air again.

"You're back..." Hawks stammered hoarsely, his face pressed against her shoulder, his voice fragile, barely a shadow of what it once was. "You're really back..."

Rain stood stock still, overcome by the force of his emotions. Then, slowly, she put her arms around him. Hesitantly at first, almost shyly. But when she felt the trembling in his body, heard the pain in his voice, she held him tighter.

Tears welled in her eyes, burning hotly as she realized what this moment meant.

He had missed her as much as she had missed him.

From the shadows of the hallway, hidden between darkness and dim light, two turquoise-blue eyes flashed.

Kaji stood motionless in the darkness of the hallway leading to the entrance. He didn't speak a word and barely dared to breathe for fear of being discovered.

The scene before him felt unreal, and it punched him in the gut.

He had never seen his mother like this before. Not so... vulnerable, never so lost.

Rain Black had always been a force of nature to him—unflappable, cool, and calculating, with eyes that never trembled even in the darkest hours. She had taught him never to show weakness. Never to trust too much, and certainly not to love unless you were ready to bear the pain of loss.

But now she stood there... looking as if she would break at any moment... wrapped in the arms of a man Kaji didn't know. Hawks – Keigo Takami.

Of course he'd heard of Hawks – the former hero who once soared the skies with his wings. The man who lost his Quirk in the war against All For One and saved countless lives.

But no one had told him that this man had once lost his heart to Rain. Or that he was part of that repressed chapter that also included his father.

The weight of this realization pressed heavily on his chest. It was as if a lost mosaic was finally coming together – piece by piece, in slow, painful clarity.

A soft creaking of the wooden floorboards made him wince. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Rain moved.

She didn't completely break the embrace, but took a half step back, just enough to meet his eyes. Her hands remained on his chest, as if seeking support, her gaze boring into his.

"I..." she began, her voice rough, as if covered in dust after all these years of silence. "I wanted to come back, Keigo. I tried, honestly."

Her lips trembled, but she forced herself to continue. "But I couldn't. Back then... The League, the heroes, the war... It would have been too dangerous to come back, and I had to—"

Her voice trailed off, as if she had to pause for a moment to find the right words between tears and grief.

"I had to protect him.”

Last Part <– | –> Next Part (coming soon)

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[peaceblank]

The med school primary application asking if my work and activities are meaningful, like by simply going out of my way to do anything doesn’t have some kind of impact on my life.

[searchingwardrobes]

I have been debating sharing this for some time, but with the new year weight loss ads amping up, I feel it's something I have to say. I'm worried for people's health.

Unless you've been living under a rock, you probably already know about people taking the diabetic drug ozempic for weight loss. You've probably heard the debates about the ethics of taking needed drugs away from diabetes patients and maybe even the side effect of "ozempic face." However, there is one side effect of taking these drugs that, in my opinion, people are not being warned about.

If you carefully pay attention to the television ads, you will hear them mention "pancreatitis" as a possible side effect. If you're like me a decade ago, that word probably means nothing to you. Let me warn you, however, it is no minor thing. My husband suffered from chronic pancreatitis for five agonizing years. The pain is beyond comprehension. Doctors who specialize in the pancreas describe it as the worst pain a human can endure. There is no actual cure. Little is understood about the disease, so treatment is difficult. Doctors who understand it are few and far between. It took my husband forever to get diagnosed. He went through multiple surgeries and procedures, but nothing worked. He had to go on an extremely limiting diet. If he varied from it in any way, he would have an attack. The only way to recover from an attack was to not eat at all for days, then slowly add in broth and jello. Did he lose weight? Yes. As a matter of fact, one day he stepped out of the shower, and I burst into tears at the sight of him. He was skin and bones - I could count every rib. Was it worth it to be thin? If you even ask that question, I'm concerned for your mental health.

They couldn't figure out exactly why my husband got pancreatitis. At that time, they thought only alcoholics and drug addicts got pancreatitis. This made it difficult to get compassionate medical care, unfortunately. Now they know that prescription medication (particularly diabetic medication) and high cholesterol can also cause it. Then there is another group - where they just don't know. But you better believe I would hesitate to take any medication that could cause pancreatitis. I would weigh my options carefully to assess if it was worth the risk. In my opinion, weight loss is not worth that risk.

My concern has been heightened seeing the Hers commercials for these drugs (under different names, but rest assured, it is the same thing). These commercials brag that you can get these drugs from Hers with just a simple virtual call, no questions asked. I wonder if people are fully aware of the risks of these drugs. I also wonder if we even know all of the risks yet. I also fear that the culture around these drugs could develop into an us vs. them mentality. That if it's so easy to be thin, why wouldn't you be? And some are getting dangerously thin on these drugs.

I know some diabetics who are on these drugs, and necessarily so. They tell me that it causes nausea when they eat. That's why they don't eat much. Again, that doesn't sound like a pleasant way to live. If you need it to regulate your blood sugar, that's one thing. But if you don't? Why would you do this to yourself?

My husband is now healed of pancreatitis. It was a miracle. You may not believe in that sort of thing, but I'm telling you, there is no other explanation. We had exhausted every medical solution, then the pandemic hit. We were concerned because hospitals were only taking life or death cases. What if he had a bad attack and needed an iv of pain meds? What would we do? Weeks passed - no pain. A month passed - no pain. Six weeks passed - no pain. He decided to grill a steak - something he hadn't been able to even take a nibble of in 5 years. I watched him take a bite, holding my breath. Nothing. He ate the whole thing. No pain. Five years later, still no pain. The doctors can't explain it, either.

So our story has a happy ending. Not everyone else's does. I hope people take the time to read this. If you do, please, please share it. I don't want anyone suffering needlessly.

[daryltwdixon]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 6.5

Summary: Tensions rise as the three of you try to find clarity in the aftermath of lines crossed and feelings laid bare. In the weeks that follow, you begin to wonder if something this messy could still become something that lasts.

|| smut MDNI 18+, some mentions of pregnancy, angst and feelings, some fluff, dirty talk, pinv, blowjobs, love triangle (?), no outbreak, jealousy, possessiveness, power play, joel talks you thru it of course, fair warning this isn’t exactly healthy, bad communication, don’t do this ok EDIT TO ADD: threesome, some dubious consent at first then reader fully consents. Tommy is an asshole || notes: eeeehhehe okay I love this one. its a long boy! I listened to you and didn’t delete any of it lmao I love this dynamic so much and it makes me so happy to know everyone is as filthy as I am // pic of Joel & Tommy is mine //

“So, when you saw them, what went through your head, Tommy?” Dr. Servopoulos asked. The office was neat, almost unnervingly so. The walls were bare except for a few framed photos—serene lakes, white sailboats drifting across still water. A false sense of calm in a space built for unraveling things that weren’t calm at all. The air smelled faintly of old books and lavender, a weak attempt to soften the weight of conversations like this.

It had taken a lot to convince either of the men beside you to come today.

Bringing anyone into this mess was hard enough, but laying it bare for someone outside the three of you, having someone watch, analyze, pick apart what happened behind closed doors felt like something private was being dissected under a microscope.

Joel hated this. You knew he hated this. He was a man who carried his feelings in silence, whose apologies lived in things left unsaid. He didn't do this—didn’t sit in stiff chairs like this, in stuffy offices like this, didn't put words to things that made his throat tight. Yet, he still agreed to be here.

And Tommy—you knew this was hard for him too. Not just because of what had happened, but because sitting here, having someone else pick at the wounds, meant acknowledging that things weren’t okay. That they couldn’t just fix it themselves. That you had invited someone in to see the cracks that had formed over the past few months.

It made the walls feel closer, the chairs feel stiffer, the quiet feel too loud.

You watched Tommy as he sighed beside you, his fingers rubbing at his brow. His eyes flickered to the doctor before dropping to the floor. “I don’t even remember,” he muttered. “S’like I’ve blocked it all out.” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I do remember the right hook I gave ‘im when Joel was tryna say somethin’ to me.” His voice darkened. “Ya know. When they were finally dressed.”

The last word dripped with bitterness.

You flinched. Your fingers curled together in your lap, knuckles pressing tight.

Joel shifted beside you, the slight movement drawing your attention. He sat stiff in his chair, his thumb rubbing absently at the bruised, purple swell on his cheek—the evidence of Tommy’s fury. He hadn’t said a single word since the session started.

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to meet the doctor’s gaze. “Dr. Servopoulos—”

“Tess,” she offered smoothly.

“Tess,” you amended. “We never meant… this was never supposed to get this far. I just want him to know I never—” You turned to look Tommy in the eyes. “I never intended for this to happen.”

Tommy let out a rough scoff, shaking his head. His arms crossed over his chest. “Yeah, well, neither did I.”

A quiet beat.

Tess glanced at Joel then, waiting.

Joel felt the weight of her stare and finally looked up. His dark eyes met hers, unreadable.

Tess raised a brow. “Anything to add?”

His jaw ticked. “What d’you want me to say?”

“You tell me, Mr. Miller.” Tess mused, tapping her pen against her notepad. “What about how you ended up sleeping with your brother’s wife?”

Joel exhaled slowly through his nose. His knuckles flexed. “Didn’t start out that way.”

Tess hummed. “Right.” She flipped to a page of her notes. “So let’s lay this out. You—” she nodded at you, “wanted a baby. You—” she pointed at Tommy, “were willing to ask your own brother to be a sperm donor, which then turned into you—” she turned to Joel, “what, just doing your brother a favor? By sleeping with his wife?”

Joel’s fingers drummed against his knee. “I did say no at first. But yeah, somethin’ like that.”

Tommy mumbled under his breath, “Yeah. A real big favor.”

You swallowed.

Tess scribbled something down. “Okay,” she said, flipping her pen between her fingers. “So when you three agreed to try for a baby in this… hands-on way, you never foresaw the possibility of… complications?”

You shook your head, stomach twisting.

“Not once?”

“I didn’t think about it,” you admitted, voice small. “I thought we were just—we were focused on the baby.”

Tommy snorted, rubbing a hand down his face. “Yeah? Well, neither of you seemed focused on it when you were sneakin’ around.”

You flinched again.

Joel finally looked up at him, his expression dark. “We weren’t sneakin’.”

“Sure as hell felt like it,” Tommy shot back.

Tess sighed, leaning forward, her gaze flicking between the three of you. “Alright, let’s just call it what it is: things got complicated. Lines that were there for a reason got crossed. And the problem wasn’t you trying for a baby—it was everything that happened outside of that agreement.”

She gestured between you and Joel. “You broke the boundaries you set. Maybe you ignored it, maybe you thought you could handle it, but now you’re here. And not because the plan failed, but because you broke your own rules. You had sex outside of what you all agreed to.”

A brief pause. Her eyes scanned each of you, as if silently asking any of you to deny it, before she tilted her head.

“So let’s cut to it. Why are you here? What do each of you actually want?”

Tommy exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I don’t know, okay?” His voice cracked slightly. “I just—I ain’t ready to throw away my marriage, but I also ain’t stupid enough to pretend like nothin’ happened.”

Tess nodded, absorbing his words before turning to you. “And you?”

Your throat felt tight. “I—” Your hands fisted in your lap. “I don’t want to lose either of them.”

Tommy’s head snapped toward you.

Joel’s fingers twitched.

You swallowed, your voice steadier now. “My marriage with Tommy is important to me. He is important to me.” You turned toward your husband, eyes pleading. “But things are complicated. Because Joel is important too.” You hesitated, shifting your gaze to Joel’s hands, his knuckles tight and white where they pressed together. “I don’t want to just cut him out of this just because of one mistake.”

Tommy’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t interrupt. His fingers drummed against his knee, his gaze flickering between you and Joel like he was waiting for something.

Tess sat forward slightly, pen poised. “And Joel?”

Joel dragged a hand down his face, exhaling through his nose. “I don’t wanna make things worse than they already are,” he muttered, voice low, unreadable.

Tess hummed, unimpressed. “That’s not really an answer.”

His fingers tapped against his knee. “Ain’t got another one.”

You turned toward him, heart pounding. “Joel.”

His jaw flexed, his eyes staying downcast away from you.

You didn’t push right away, letting the silence stretch between you before trying again, voice softer this time. “What do you want?”

His throat worked, but he didn’t speak.

Tess glanced between you both. “It doesn’t have to be a speech, Joel. Just say what’s in your head.”

Joel breathed in a slow, heavy breath, rubbing the heel of his hand over his mouth. His fingers dragged across the stubble on his jaw. When he finally looked up, his eyes locked onto his brother. “I know what we agreed to,” he said, voice steady but low. “I know this was supposed to be your kid, that I was just…” He trailed off for a second, shaking his head, like the word didn’t sit right with him. “That I was just helpin’.”

The room felt very still. 

Joel shifted, his knuckles flexing against his knee. “But shit changed, Tommy.” His voice roughened. “I can’t just—" He exhaled sharply, shoulders tensing. “I won’t just step back like this don’t mean nothin’ to me.”

The weight of it settled between all of you. Tommy’s knee bounced, his hands gripping his own upper arms where they were crossed. His mouth pressed into a hard line, but he didn’t speak, didn’t argue.

Joel swallowed, gaze flicking downward for a second before lifting again. “I ain’t askin’ for—” He hesitated, his jaw flexing like the words were hard to force out. “I don’t even know what I’m askin’ for.” His eyes flickered to Tommy’s. “But I do know I ain’t gonna be left out to dry.”

“No one said you would be,” you tried to soothe, your hand reaching to rest on his forearm, shaking your head. His skin was rough, warm, solid beneath your touch.

Your eyes traced the worn lines of his face, the quiet tension in his jaw as he looked at his brother. He was handsome in a way that felt etched into him, shaped by time and hardship, by everything he’d carried.

And you knew—better than anyone—how much Tommy meant to him. That neither of them trusted anyone as much as they trusted each other. That this needed to be amended before anything else could carry on between the two of you. You took your hand away from his arm.

Tess let out a slow breath. “Okay,” she murmured, nodding slightly. “Thank you, Joel. I think everyone needed to hear that.”

Joel’s fingers flexed again, and this time, his gaze flicked toward you, studying you for the first time since you arrived. There was something there—a charge, a quiet pull that hadn’t been there before. Or maybe it had, and you were only noticing it now, now that everything had changed.

You let the silence stretch as you kept your eyes on his, trying to read between everything he wasn’t saying. That he wanted to be part of this, that he wasn’t going to give this up easily.

Then Tommy sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Alright,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Then we gotta figure out what the hell we’re actually doin’ here.”

Tess tapped her pen against her notepad. “Right. So let’s talk about our options.”

“Options?” Tommy echoed, his voice edged with skepticism.

Tess nodded, uncrossing her legs only to recross them the other way. She leaned forward slightly. “The way I see it, there are ways to make this work—even if none of them are simple.” She flipped to a fresh page in her notebook. “But make no mistake: it’s going to take work.”

Her pen tapped lightly against the paper as she continued. “Let’s start with the obvious: you can walk away from this entirely, go your separate ways—but none of you seem too eager to do that. Or, you and Tommy could stay together, work on the marriage, and Joel can remain in the background. Be some kind of father figure to this child and nothing more.”

She lifted a brow and looked directly at him. “But I’m not sure, with how far this has gotten, that that’s actually what you want.”

Joel didn’t answer right away. His jaw worked, tension shifting through his shoulders as his eyes dropped to the floor.

Then, quiet but certain, Joel said, “It’s not.”

Your chest tightened. The urge to reach for him surged again, stronger this time, but you didn’t move. You let him sit in the silence he’d chosen, even as it said more than anything else could.

Tess gave a small nod, like she’d expected that answer.

Joel didn’t elaborate. Didn’t look up. But the shift in the room was immediate. Whatever this had started as—it wasn’t just about the baby anymore.

Tess paused, giving the moment space before she spoke again.

“So the third option…How do we feel about the possibility of an open relationship?”

The silence that followed was thick, charged.

Tommy looked at you. You looked at him. Then at Joel. Joel stared at the floor, his jaw tight, expression unreadable.

Tess leaned her elbows on her knees, voice calm but direct. “I’ll be honest—I rarely see that work in situations like this. But it’s an option. If you’re willing to set clear, honest boundaries—and actually respect them.”

Tommy let out a breathy, humorless laugh, running a hand down his face again. “Boundaries. We’d need real ones this time. Ones that actually get followed.” His voice was edged, not cruel, but firm. “Not just shit we say and then ignore the second someone gets all… worked up.”

You tried not to let the flush creep onto your face as you kept your eyes on Tess as she went on.

“Now, let’s talk about Sarah.”

Joel immediately stiffened, his eyes shooting up to look at the doctor. Tommy did too.

“She doesn’t need to know about any of this,” Joel said, voice sharp.

“Not right now,” Tommy agreed. He turned to his brother, “But eventually, she’s gonna ask questions. And if we’re talkin’ about raising a baby together too, we can’t just not think about how this looks to her.”

Tess nodded, writing something down. “And if you don’t figure out what you actually are to each other, she’s gonna pick up on that long before you’re ready to have the conversation.” She flicked her gaze between all of you. “Kids are perceptive. The more unsure you are, the more confusing it’s gonna be for her.”

“When the time comes,” Joel said, measured, “I’ll tell her.” He glanced at Tommy, then at you. “Not before. Not unless she starts askin’.”

Tess watched him closely. “And if she does?”

Joel exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Then I’ll explain it to her. In a way that makes sense.” His eyes flickered between you and Tommy again. “She don’t need to know more than what’s right for her age.”

You let out a slow breath, nodding. “Alright.”

Tess closed her notebook. “Alright. It’s a start. But you’ve got work to do. This isn’t just about a baby anymore.” She looked directly at Tommy. “It’s about your marriage. About your relationships with each other.” Then her gaze flicked between you and Joel. “And whether or not you two can actually handle boundaries, or if this is just a slow crawl toward something blowing up in your faces.”

You swallowed. Joel’s hands clenched.

Tommy just sighed. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Guess we’ll find out.”

The walk into the parking lot was a quiet one, with the buzzing of unsettled energy between the three of you. Once outside the door, you all seemed to turn to each other, waiting for someone to speak.

“Thank you,” you said finally, your voice soft. “Both of you. For coming to this. I know it was…” You couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Weird,” Joel offered, with a dry edge.

“Necessary,” Tommy muttered, crossing his arms.

You nodded, arms folding across your chest. “So…” you trailed off, unsure what came next. None of you were.

Tommy gave a short sigh and looked off toward the lot. “I’ll go grab the truck.” He didn’t wait for a response—just turned and walked, shoulders tight, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets.

You and Joel stood in the stillness he left behind.

He glanced at you, then away, rocking slightly on his heels. “I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to say right now.”

You huffed a quiet breath. “Yeah. Me neither.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, like something was caught just behind his teeth—but he didn’t speak.

And you didn’t reach for him, even though you wanted to. Even though your hand twitched like it might. To squeeze his, to graze his wrist, to pull him close and maybe even kiss him goodbye. But it was still too weird. Too soon.

So instead, when Tommy pulled up and the tires crunched on the pavement, you stepped forward and let your fingers brush lightly over Joel’s shoulder. Just for a second. Just enough to say something without having to speak.

The window on Tommy’s side rolled down, elbow braced on the edge. He was watching his brother with a resigned look in his eyes.

Joel met his eyes. They exchanged a short, silent nod. Nothing more.

You climbed into the passenger seat, heart thrumming. Joel stayed standing where you left him, hands in his pockets, watching as the truck pulled away.

And even though nothing had been said… it felt like something had shifted. Just enough to make it through the rest of the day.

For mid-October, the sun sure was baking you in the bleachers. But it was the good kind of heat—cozy, not oppressive. The air smelled like dust and hay and horses. Behind you, the fair buzzed with life—kids screaming on the roller coasters, bells ringing as prizes were won, music from the concert stage floating over the field like static.

The Austin Fall Festival was in full swing.

Tommy sat beside you on the sun-warmed metal bench, one hand deep in a bag of kettle corn, the other resting easy on your knee. Down in the arena below your seats, another bull rider went airborne, thrown like a ragdoll into the dirt. The crowd let out a collective wince.

“Damn,” Tommy said, watching the guy scramble to his feet. “That’s gonna bruise.”

You snorted, grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Bruise? That man’s spine just folded in half.”

Tommy grinned, leaning in. “Bet I could do better.”

You raised a brow. “You can’t even get outta bed without your back crackin’ like fireworks.”

He laughed, mouth full of popcorn, then pressed a quick kiss to your lips—warm and familiar. “True. But I’d still look good tryin’.”

You smiled as you sipped your soda. The air smelled like caramel and something fried—probably the funnel cake stand you passed earlier. You sat close enough to the arena that you could hear the thud of hooves, the pop of the announcer’s mic, the wave of cheers and groans rolling through the stands behind you. It felt electric.

Sarah was up soon. Her first barrel race. She’d been buzzing about it for weeks.

You leaned into Tommy’s side, and he brought his arm up to wrap around your shoulders, giving you an affectionate squeeze.

This was good. A sense of normalcy again.

Then, a familiar face caught your eye making his way up the bleachers. Joel had a bag of cotton candy in one hand and was weaving through the crowd with ease up the stairs. He reached your row and slid in beside you, a small smile already on his face.

“Just left Sarah with her trainer,” he said, a little out of breath. “She’s up in the next few.”

Then he leaned in to greet you, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek meant to be just a casual familial ‘hello’. But still, his stubble scraped your skin just enough to leave a spark, and he smelled like horses and leather and that subtle cologne he always wore. It hit somewhere low in your stomach, but you didn’t let it show. 

He greeted Tommy with a nod, and popped a puff of cotton candy into his mouth.

You made a face. “Ugh. How can you eat that stuff?”

Joel grinned around the sugar, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s what makes me so sweet.”

You laughed, shaking your head and taking another sip of your soda. Tommy reached down for more popcorn, his arm brushing against your back as he dropped his hand from your shoulder, and Joel leaned forward to watch the next event being announced.

You sat between them, shoulders brushing, the sun warming your back, the crowd rising around you.

For a moment, it almost felt like things could settle. Like the three of you could fit into this new normal—comfortable, easy, like it was supposed to be this way all along. At least you hoped. 

The announcer’s voice crackled through the speakers, calling out Sarah’s name, and your heart gave a little skip.

“There she is,” Joel said, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees.

You leaned, too, eyes scanning the gate. Sure enough, Sarah was there behind the posts on her horse, nerves painted all over her posture even though she tried to play it cool. Even from here, you could just make out the furrow in her brow—the same quiet, determined look she got from her dad.

“She’s gonna kill it,” Tommy said beside you, resting his hand high on your thigh. He gave it a gentle squeeze, leaning into you as he said, “Ain’t no way she don’t win.”

You smiled, but it felt slightly delayed. Joel’s knee pressed against yours as he leaned close on your other side, eyes still locked on the arena.

“Hope she don’t cut that second barrel too close,” he muttered, mostly to himself, his voice low and rough. “She keeps doin’ that in practice. Gets excited and leans too early.”

“She’ll be fine,” you said, but you could hear the tension in your own voice. Joel’s hand had come to rest behind you on the bench, close to your lower back. Tommy’s fingers were still on your leg.

Sarah burst out of the gate, and the crowd roared. The three of you shot to your feet as her horse charged forward, hooves kicking up dust. She moved fast—tight, clean—rounding the first barrel like she’d done it a hundred times.

Joel was grinning ear to ear. “That’s my girl!”

His arm slid around your back, his other hand curled into a loose fist, pressed just beneath his mouth as if to contain the rush of emotion building in him. The hand at your back caught in the fabric of your blouse, fingers curling there, like he was tethering himself. Like he was bracing.

You tried to focus on Sarah, but all you could feel was the heat of his fingers, the way he clung to you, like your body was hyper aware of him.

You smiled, cheering, barely breathing, eyes fixed on her horse thundering toward the second turn. She hugged the barrel tight—too tight. A little wobble, a gasp from the crowd, but she corrected at the last second.

“She’s got it,” Tommy said beside you. His hand came to rest against the small of your back—right below where Joel’s hand was already bunched in your shirt. The two touches nearly met.

Neither of them moved.

Sarah charged toward the third barrel. Clean. Her final sprint down the home stretch brought the stands to their feet.

The three of you clapped, cheered, whooped, your heart racing, the electricity between the two men fizzing silently beside you. Tommy’s hand splayed wide across your backside. Joel barely moved, watching the timer screen flash across the display.

“That’s a good run,” he said, low and proud. His fingers loosened from your shirt, but he didn’t move his hand away.

“She’s gonna place,” Tommy agreed.

“She might win it,” you added, turning your head to look at them.

Both of them were already looking at you.

You smiled, flushed from the excitement—but something in the way they each looked at you made your skin feel hot for an entirely different reason.

Neither of them said anything, and for a second, the moment just… hung there. Their hands on you. The roar of the crowd fading into something muted.

Then the announcer called the next name, and the energy around you snapped back into motion.

Joel pulled his arm back to grab the cotton candy. Tommy slid his hand away like nothing had happened.

But your body remembered. And so did theirs.

After catching up with Sarah after her event, she was still buzzing with adrenaline. Practically bouncing.

“Did you see how fast he took that last curve?!” she gasped, practically skipping between you and Joel. “I was freaking out when the second barrel started to tip—did you see that?! Were you guys watching?!”

Joel was all pride and smiles as he walked beside her, teasing and nodding along, soaking in every word. She rambled on about her trainer’s horses, how they’d competed at Rodeo Austin for real, how she couldn’t wait to do it again. Eventually, she managed to talk the three of you into a round at the BB gun booth.

All four of you took a stance—Sarah coached dramatically, and you, predictably, failed miserably your first try. Joel and Tommy moved to the next round, and you watched from the side with Sarah, both of you hollering in support.

“Hit it! Hit it!” Sarah screeched at her dad. You let out a whoop as Tommy nailed the bullseye again and again.

When the game runner handed him a giant teddy bear, Tommy swung it into your arms with a triumphant grin before kissing you full on the mouth, unbothered by the crowd.

You laughed against his lips, hugging the bear tight, bouncing a little despite yourself.

“Uncle Tommy!” Sarah groaned, tugging at his arm until he pulled back from the kiss, grinning at her wide-eyed look. “Win me one too! Please?”

Tommy’s eyes sparkled as he looked at Joel, clearly amused that he was the one winning today. Joel rolled his eyes, but you caught the tightness in his jaw, the way his gaze lingered just a second too long as he glanced at your oversized teddy hitched on your hip.

“Go on, then,” Joel said, nodding toward the booth. “I’m gonna grab another beer.”

“I’ll join you,” you added quickly, glancing toward Tommy. But Sarah was already dragging him away, his hands back on the BB gun, ready for round two.

You and Joel peeled off quietly, heading toward the food and drink stands.

“Sarah was beggin’ for a funnel cake earlier,” Joel said, hands in his pockets. “Okay if we stop by one of the stands?”

“Yeah, ’course,” you murmured, falling into step beside him.

The walk was quiet—not awkward, exactly, but the air between you had thickened. Every step felt like it carried the weight of something unsaid.

You hadn’t talked much since the therapy session. Not really. Not about anything that mattered. The three of you had agreed to give it space—to breathe, to not immediately push into definitions or rules or boundaries.

But space didn’t feel like clarity. It felt like walking on eggshells. Like waiting for someone else to speak first, only no one ever did.

You weren’t sure what this was supposed to look like now. The idea of exploring an open relationship had been thrown out into the room like a life raft, but no one had said if they were actually ready to grab onto it. Not Joel. Not Tommy. Not even you.

You made it all the way to the counter before either of you spoke again.

“Make that two funnel cakes, please,” you said, just as Joel ordered Sarah’s.

He raised an eyebrow.

“What?” you laughed, lifting a shoulder. “Can’t help the cravings.” You reached for your wallet. “I’ll get Sarah’s too.”

Joel stopped you, his hand catching your wrist as you moved to your back pocket.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he muttered, already pulling out cash.

Then, quieter—low enough that the vendor wouldn’t hear, but just loud enough for you—he added, “Guess that sweet tooth runs in the genes.”

Your heart stumbled a beat. He didn’t look at you. Didn’t smirk, didn’t wink, but you could swear there was a twinkle in his eye when he turned back to you as you both stepped aside to wait for your order.

And just like that, the silence settled back in—only now it wasn’t neutral. It was charged.

When the funnel cakes came, you didn’t hesitate—tearing off a bite, still warm and soft, powdered sugar sticking to your lips.

You sighed in delight. “Oh my God.”

Joel was watching you when you looked up. That slight smirk on his face.

“What?” you asked, mouth full.

“You got a little somethin’,” he said, gesturing vaguely near his own mouth.

You licked your lips automatically, tongue sweeping the corner.

“Nope,” he murmured, chuckling. “Still there.”

Before you could try again, his hand reached out. Fingers warm and rough as they curled under your chin. His thumb dragged gently across your upper lip, brushing away the sugar with a slow swipe.

You froze—your breath caught somewhere in your throat as your eyes searched his face. The lights from the festival sparkled in his eyes, and behind him the sky had deepened into a wash of orange and violet.

Then his gaze dropped to your mouth, and he moved.

His lips brushed yours—soft, hesitant—like he wasn’t sure if this counted as crossing a line, or if the line had disappeared altogether. But he didn’t pull back right away. Instead, he paused there, the warmth of his breath ghosting against your mouth, and for a second neither of you moved. 

You stood still in that sliver of space where touch becomes choice, where you could pretend it hadn’t happened yet. But then his mouth pressed into yours fully, slowly, like he was tasting something he already knew. It wasn’t hungry. It wasn’t rushed. It was deliberate, drawn out and gentle. 

His hand stayed at your chin, his thumb pinching just barely as if to steady you, and your lips parted instinctively beneath his. You felt the sigh in his chest more than you heard it, like something deep inside him had let go the second your mouths met. 

Your hands stayed at your sides, fist clenched around the paper tray still holding your funnel cake, the other hugging the teddy bear to your side, your heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your throat. It wasn’t a kiss born from adrenaline or jealousy—it wasn’t the kind of kiss that begged for permission. It simply was. 

When he pulled back, it wasn’t abrupt. It was slow, like he didn’t really want to stop, but knew he had to. His lips hovered a moment longer—just close enough that you could still feel the heat of him—and then he stepped back half a breath. You didn’t dare move. Couldn’t. You stood there staring at him, your lungs burning like you’d been holding your breath the entire time. Joel’s eyes dropped to your mouth again, and then, with a subtle flick of his tongue, he licked the last trace of powdered sugar from his bottom lip. The gesture was unthinking, automatic, but the sheer sight of it landed somewhere low and electric in your stomach, like a match being struck.

And then the world came rushing back in.

The noise of the fairgrounds—the buzz of voices, the bark of game operators, the soft whir of rides—returned all at once, like someone had turned the volume back up. You swallowed hard and looked away, trying to force air into your lungs, trying to stop the trembling in your fingers. Joel didn’t say anything. He just nodded once, almost to himself, and turned to start walking back toward the game booth. You followed beside him, the heat still high in your cheeks, your steps too careful, like if you moved too fast you might lose your balance.

You glanced up at him once, just to see if he was as composed as he acted, but the faint pink flush at the tips of his ears gave him away.

“Dad!”

Sarah’s voice snapped your head up. She was running toward you, a giant stuffed horse clutched in her arms, nearly half her size. She was beaming. “Can I go find Claire and Maddie again? They’re headed to the ferris wheel!”

Joel handed her the funnel cake without hesitation, “Yeah, go on, just stay where we can see you.”

“Thanks!” she chirped, already spinning away with her prize in tow, the funnel cake tipping dangerously as she ran off.

But your eyes weren’t on her.

They were on Tommy, just catching up to you—beer in one hand, the other stuffed in his front pocket, a smile on his face as he watched her go. When his eyes found yours, they flicked to Joel beside you, and something in his expression changed. Not angry, not suspicious… but aware. Like he was conscious of some shift between the two of you.

You tried to will the pink from your cheeks, steady the pulse in your throat as you stepped toward him and offered your funnel cake like nothing had happened.

“That kid had me goin’ three more rounds to get her that prize,” Tommy chuckled, clearly trying to break whatever tension had settled back between the three of you as he tore off a piece and popped it in his mouth.

Joel let out a quiet laugh, eyes following in the direction Sarah had run off. “Better go catch up with her before I lose ’er.”

Tommy nodded, then glanced at you. “Think we’ll call it a night after this. She’ll be wired for another hour and then crash hard.”

You smiled, grateful for the exit.

As Joel nodded and began to step away, Tommy called after him casually, “Hey—when you drop her off, mind swingin’ by the house? Think I left that box of tools in your truck bed last week.”

Joel glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah. Sure.” his eyes landed on you for the briefest moment, “See ya in a bit then,”

Tommy gave him a two-finger wave, then turned his attention back to you, the last bite of funnel cake pinched between his fingers, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you walked out of the fair.

The drive home wasn’t long, but it felt like it stretched forever.

Tommy’s hand had been on your thigh from the moment he slid into the driver’s seat—steady at first, but now, it was creeping higher with every turn he made. His fingers flexed just at the top of your leg, the pad of his thumb brushing over your jeans in slow, distracting strokes.

“Tommy,” you said, a quiet breath more than a word.

“Yeah?” His voice was low, too casual for the way his fingers were moving now.

“You’re bein’ handsy.”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, smirking. “Yeah, well. You’re lettin’ me.”

This wasn’t like him.

Yes, Tommy was affectionate��always had been. Touching your lower back as you passed through a crowd, brushing his lips over your shoulder while you stood at the sink, nudging your knee under the table just to remind you he was there.

But his gestures had never been… naughty.

Never anything that lit a fuse under your skin like the way his hand was gripping your thigh now. Never anything that made your breath stutter in your chest just from the press of his fingers curling possessively around your skin.

He was usually more careful with you. Gentle.

Tommy was the kind of man who waited until you were both tucked under the covers, warm and safe, soft and sleepy, before climbing over you with a smile and a kiss to your neck. The kind of man who made you smile first, made sure the world had quieted before he pulled you under.

You turned your head, looking at him from the passenger seat. He was focused on the road, jaw tight, eyes hard on the curve of the pavement as he turned into the neighborhood. But there was a spark there, flashing hot and alive beneath his usual easy exterior.

Your gaze slid down as he shifted in his seat, and your eyes caught on the undeniable shape in his jeans.

Heat bloomed in your face. Your chest. Lower.

The tight bulge in his lap pulsed like a secret between you, and it made your thighs press together involuntarily. But it wasn’t just the fact that he was aroused—it was that he wasn’t hiding it. That he was feeling you up in the front seat of the truck, on your quiet neighborhood street, away from the safety of the four walls of your bedroom.

Tommy, who usually waited until the house was dark and the doors were locked. Who kissed you slowly, slid his hands under your shirt and whispered “you okay?” even after years of being together.

He just slid his hand between your legs and gripped your inner thigh like he’d been thinking about it all night.

It sent heat rolling through you, sharp and dizzying. Not just from the touch, but from the awareness of how out of place it was. How unlike him it was to let go like this, to need like this, especially outside the safety of home.

And God help you—you liked it.

You pressed your legs together, your breath catching in your throat, trying to remember how to sit still while every nerve in your body screamed at you to climb into his lap and ride him right there in the middle of the road.

He felt your squirming as he pulled into the driveway, the tires crunching softly over gravel. The second the truck shifted into park and the headlights clicked off, the cab was swallowed in quiet shadow, only the streetlamp catching the edge of his jaw.

He turned toward you, that smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth—the kind that made your stomach flip. His hand slid from your thigh to the top of your seat, arm stretched across the backrest, his gaze drinking you in from the other side of the bench.

“C’mere,” he said, low and smooth, nodding for you to slide over.

You bit your lip, heart thudding, and obeyed without a word—scooting across the cracked leather until your thigh brushed his.

His hand dropped from the headrest to cradle the back of your neck, warm and firm. The other left the steering wheel, finding your cheek, fingers spreading across your jaw like he needed to anchor you in place.

And then he kissed you.

Not the sweet, half-thought kisses he’d given you throughout the day. Not careful, not playful. This was deep. Needy. Starving. Like he’d been holding it back for too long and didn’t care anymore if it showed.

His mouth slanted over yours again and again, open and hot, tongue sweeping past your lips like it belonged there. The soft sounds he made—those low, growling hums that rumbled in his throat—sent heat surging through your core.

Your breath stuttered as his grip on your neck tightened, his other hand trailing slowly down from your face to trace along your body until it was back at your denim clad thighs. He gripped hard, his palm sliding up along the seam of your jeans, squeezing just enough to make you shift in your seat.

When he tugged gently at the base of your hair, just at the nape, a moan slipped from your throat before you could catch it.

You broke the kiss just long enough to gasp, “Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

He huffed a breath against your skin, already moving to your neck, kissing a line down the column of your throat. His mouth was open, his tongue slow, dragging heat behind every press of his lips, and then—teeth. A soft bite that made your body jolt.

“Wanted to get my hands on you all day,” he muttered between kisses, voice muffled against your skin. “Lookin’ so pretty,”

You whimpered, nails curling into the fabric of his shirt as he worked lower, pushing your neckline aside with one hand just to mouth at the new skin he found there.

You were panting now, flushed all over, your thighs pressing together as he kissed, bit, sucked like he was trying to brand you.

“Tommy,” you breathed, completely undone, and when he looked back up at you—lips swollen, eyes dark—you barely recognized the hunger in his face.

“Get your ass inside,” he rasped. “Now.”

You climbed out the passenger door, giddy like a teenager all over again, your skin still tingling from his hands and mouth and voice. As you made your way up the walk, Tommy’s hand came down in a playful smack against your rear, making you squeal and laugh over your shoulder at him.

He didn’t smile—not fully. His eyes were too dark, too focused. But the edge of his mouth twitched like he was barely holding himself together.

By the time you reached the door, his chest was already at your back, his arms snaking around you, mouth grazing your ear. “You drive me crazy, baby… you know that?” he murmured, voice low and breath hot.

You fumbled the keys, giggling as he pressed closer. “You’re the one who couldn’t keep your hands to himself.”

“And you didn’t stop me,” he whispered, nuzzling your jaw. “Didn’t want to, did you?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.

The door clicked open and the second you were inside, his hands were on you again—spinning you around, backing you up against the wall just inside the entry. His mouth crashed into yours, deeper this time, slower but no less desperate. His hands slid up your sides, over your waist, thumbs hooking into your belt loops to keep you flush against him.

He kissed you like he hadn’t touched you in weeks. Like he’d been starving for you.

By the time you pulled apart for air, you were both breathless and a little dizzy.

“Upstairs,” he murmured, voice ragged, his hands slipping down to grab yours, guiding you behind him.

At the top, he didn’t even pause—just pulled you straight into the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind you with one solid thud. And then his hands were back on your hips, his mouth on your throat, and whatever this was—it wasn’t slowing down anytime soon.

Your back hit the bedroom wall with a soft thump, and Tommy barely gave you time to catch your breath before his mouth was on you again, pressing into the curve of your neck, open and hot, his hands splayed across your hips like he couldn’t keep his hands still.

You gasped as he nipped at the base of your throat, your hands tangling in his shirt, gripping the fabric tight. He groaned softly against your skin, one hand sliding up under your top, rough fingers skimming over your ribs like he needed to feel all of you.

“Tommy—” you breathed, but it came out more like a sigh.

He pulled back just far enough to look at you, his chest rising and falling hard, eyes dark and locked onto yours. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

You shook your head before the words even formed. “Don’t.”

That was all he needed.

He tugged your shirt up, slow but sure, breaking contact just long enough to pull it over your head and toss it to the floor. His eyes dropped, sweeping over your bare skin like it physically pained him to look away. One of his hands slid behind you and unclasped your bra in a smooth motion, and let it slide from your shoulders. His hands were reverent, warm and wide as they came up to cup you, thumbs brushing over your nipples, and the groan that left him was raw, almost pained.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he said, like a thought spoken out loud.

You reached for the hem of his shirt, dragging it up over his stomach and chest. He helped you the rest of the way, yanking it over his head and tossing it behind him. His mouth was back on you before you could get a good look, lips trailing heat down your collarbone, your sternum, the swell of your breast. He kissed your flesh until you were arching into him, fingers tangling in his hair.

His hands moved to the button of your jeans next, and you gasped when he popped it open and dragged the zipper down, his knuckles grazing the skin just below your belly. You toed off your shoes, the soft thud of them hitting the carpet barely registering over the pounding in your ears. His hands slid to your waist, and he dropped to his knees, pulling your jeans down inch by inch, kissing the skin he uncovered like it was a map he already knew by heart.

By the time he got your jeans off, his mouth never left your skin, kissing along your hip bone, his breath hot and shaky. His hands slid up your thighs, slow and worshipful—until they weren’t. Until they were gripping.

His fingers dug into your flesh, pulling you closer as he moved up to kiss your stomach, chest, throat—claiming every inch like it was his and his alone. You were breathless by the time he kissed you again, and when he pushed you back onto the bed, you went willingly, your back sinking into the sheets, arms stretching above your head.

He hovered over you, eyes tracing every inch of your face. And then something flickered there. Something sharp.

“You let him touch you like this?” he asked, voice low but tight, as his hand moved between your legs, cupping you over your panties. The lace was already damp beneath his fingers, your arousal bleeding through the fabric. He dragged a finger along the center, slow and deliberate, and you felt the heat bloom deeper as the pressure built.

Your breath caught. “Tommy—”

“Just tell me,” he murmured, kissing your jaw, then your throat. “Did he touch you like this?” He pressed the heel of his palm in, slow but firm, dragging a moan from your lips even as your brows pulled together.

“Stop,” you breathed, trying to push up on your elbows. “It doesn’t matter.”

But he shook his head, his hand sliding your underwear down your thighs, slow and rough all at once. “It does to me.”

He kissed you again—deeper this time, almost bruising until his hands guided you to roll over, his touch less gentle now, more insistent. He pulled your hips up until you were on your knees, chest pressed into the bed, your face turned toward the pillows. You barely had time to catch your breath before you felt him—hot and hard, the blunt weight of his cock pressing against you.

You arched back into it instinctively, needing him to forget everything else, to just feel this—feel you.

“You’re mine,” he breathed, pushing into you with one steady thrust that made you gasp, your fingers curling into the comforter. “Always been mine.”

You moaned, eyes shutting tightly as he moved inside you—rougher now, his rhythm firm, controlled, but not cruel. Just desperate. Like he had something to prove.

Every sound that left him was strained, thick with emotion—his hands spreading across your hips, his thumb trailing up your spine like he needed to feel every piece of you to believe this was real.

The sound of your moans and Tommy’s grunts filled the air, the sheets rubbing against your skin beneath you, it was almost loud enough to drown out the front door opening.

But then you heard his voice.

“Tommy?”

Your eyes flew open, breath catching in your throat. That was Joel’s voice coming from downstairs. Your mind scrambled to remember why the hell he was here. And then you remembered Tommy’s request. Some stupid tool box he needed.

Tommy stilled for half a second—just long enough for your heart to lurch—before he started moving again, slower this time, deeper. Like he was doubling down.

You grunted, biting your lip to swallow the moan that threatened to give you away. Your hand scrambled for the edge of the sheets, something to grip, something to hold you to earth.

Your blood ran hot and cold all at once.

Joel’s voice came again—closer. “You home?”

“We’re up here,” Tommy called back, voice completely steady.

No.

Your entire body tensed under him, your head whipping to the side, eyes locked on the closed bedroom door.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you hissed, panicked, but he only dropped more of his weight onto you, one hand pressing flat between your shoulder blades, the other tightening around your hip. You were locked in place beneath him, your breath coming fast.

“Shh, shh, shh,” Tommy cooed, his voice sweet but mocking as his hips kept moving, slow and steady and deep. “Ain’t gonna stop now.”

There was a creak on the stairs.

Your heart slammed into your throat.

“Tommy,” you hissed again, but it came out half-broken, your voice catching in your chest.

And then—

The door swung open.

“Jesus—” Joel flinched hard, turning away with a grunt and lifting a hand to cover his eyes. “What the hell, man!?”

Tommy didn’t stop.

His grip on you tightened, his thrusts slowing just a hair—but only to lean down, breath hot against your ear as he rasped, “That what you wanted, huh? Him seein’ you like this?”

You whimpered, caught between mortification and a heat that made your knees weak.

“Tommy—please—” you gasped, struggling half-heartedly beneath him.

But he was gone.

“Think you can just fuck my wife whenever you want?” Tommy growled, looking over at Joel now, chest heaving, voice thick with rage and something else—something darker. “Think you do it better?”

Joel turned slightly, eyes caught somewhere between fury and disbelief. “You’ve lost your goddamn mind—”

“Have I?” Tommy snapped, his voice low and dangerous as he fucked into you harder now, like he was trying to prove something with every movement. “’Cause she’s drippin’ all over my cock right now. You seein’ this?”

You let out a broken sound, face buried in the mattress. You wanted to crawl out of your skin—and yet the way Tommy was holding you, the filthy things coming out of his mouth, the heat between the three of you…

It was too much.

Joel’s mouth opened like he was about to say something else—but he didn’t.

He stared.

He stayed.

And your heart nearly exploded as Tommy chuckled low in his throat, thrusting deep and slow again like he wanted Joel to see it.

“That’s right,” Tommy said, never looking away. “Go on. Watch. See what it looks like when a man takes care of what’s his.”

“Call this takin’ care?” Joel said, voice low, sharp with something mean and taunting beneath the surface.

Your eyes flicked up, wide, and found his—and the heat there made your breath catch.

“Tell me, little brother,” Joel drawled, “you ever felt her come all over that dick of yours?”

Tommy’s movements faltered. Just for a second.

You felt it—his grip loosening slightly on your hips, his breath catching.

Your heart was in your throat, beating so hard it hurt.

Joel stepped forward, slow, measured. His eyes dragged over your body—not like it was new to him, but like he knew every inch of it already. Like he could trace it blind, by memory alone.

“Didn’t think so,” he murmured.

Then his gaze locked with yours.

“Should we show him, sweetheart?” he asked, and your stomach dropped clean through the mattress. “Show him what he’s been missin’?”

Your mouth parted, no sound coming out.

Joel tilted his head, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Think my pissy little brother needs some pointers?”

Tommy let out a rough breath behind you, a mix between a growl and a scoff, his hand sliding up your spine possessively.

“She’s my goddamn wife,” he snapped, but his voice wasn’t steady anymore.

Joel’s gaze flickered up, darkening, “Then fuckin’ act like it.”

The silence was deafening—so thick you could hear your own pulse in your ears.

Tommy’s hands flexed on your hips again. And then he thrust—hard. Deep. A sound ripped out of you that wasn’t quiet at all.

And Joel’s expression changed. Softer. Almost smug. Almost… proud.

“She sure makes the prettiest sounds, don’t she?” he said, and he approached the bed. Your skin felt like it was on fire as Tommy stilled completely, but he was still hard inside you to your surprise.

“Turn her over,” Joel said steadily.

Tommy’s head snapped toward him. “Get the hell out.”

“You invited me in here, little brother.” Joel’s tone was exasperatingly calm. 

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Both men. In the room with you while you were naked and taking your husband’s cock.

Your heart pounded against your ribs, wild and uneven, like it was trying to warn you. Or maybe it was just overwhelmed.

You didn’t know where to look. Joel, standing there with that infuriating calm like this was just another Tuesday. Tommy, still inside you, bristling with fury, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead as he tried to process what was happening.

And you—trapped in the middle, hips pinned beneath the man you married, body still burning for the one you hadn’t stopped thinking about since that first night.

You should’ve felt humiliated. You did. But your skin still tingled everywhere Joel’s eyes touched.

Tommy was quick to snap at his brother, “And now I want you out.”

Joel didn’t flinch. “And what do you want, sweetheart?” he asked, gaze cutting to you, his head tilted slightly as his eyes took in the flushed features of your face.

You exhaled slowly, your lungs feeling like they’d deflated. Your mouth was dry, but you licked your lips anyway, then turned your face to look back at Tommy, biting down gently on the inside of your cheek.

Tommy’s face twisted in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“Just…” you breathed, heart pounding in your throat, “let’s just see. It could be fun.” You swallowed. “We haven’t made any rules yet.”

Tommy looked between the two of you—his jaw tight, his eyes wide, stunned. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face before he finally pulled out of you, breath ragged. “Alright. Turn over.”

You moved quickly, your skin flushed and glowing, body still trembling as you flipped onto your back. The sheets were warm under you, your thighs still slick, still open.

Behind you, you heard the unmistakable rustle of clothes—the metal clink of a belt, the soft drag of a zipper—and then Joel was there.

The heat of him hit you first. He was so warm, and as he stepped to the side of the bed, the mattress dipped slightly with his weight.

“This is so fuckin’ weird,” Tommy muttered, shaking his head as he moved to kneel between your legs again.

You sat up a little, cupping his face, dragging your hand down the center of his chest, his stomach. “I love you,” you whispered, searching his eyes. “If you don’t want this, we stop. Say the word.”

Tommy stared down at you for a long second. His lips pressed together, pulled inward like he was thinking too hard. His eyes flicked to Joel, then back to you.

He sighed, jaw clenching. “Just this once. And if it doesn’t work—”

“Never again,” you finished softly, nodding.

Only then did you glance up at Joel.

He nodded once, slow and assured, his hand already moving to the bulge in his briefs. Your eyes followed—broad chest, tan skin, strong forearms—and you couldn’t help yourself. You leaned back, just slightly, hand drifting up to cup him through the fabric. Joel exhaled, low and rough, eyes fluttering shut as your palm rubbed against him.

“Show him,” you said softly.

His eyes opened again, sharper now, a slow smirk curling at the corner of his mouth.

“Not sure he deserves it after all that attitude,” Joel muttered, voice teasing but laced with heat.

“Joel—” you warned.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, rolling his eyes—but his voice was dark now, thicker. “But then it’s my turn.”

You watched him hook his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs, pushing them down with one slow motion that revealed all of him—hard, heavy, already flushed. Your breath caught at the sight, heat flooding through you like a second pulse.

He fisted himself gently, watching you, waiting.

Above you, Tommy shifted. You turned to look at him and his mouth was drawn tight, eyes hard with conflict. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he moved closer, settling between your legs again, hands sliding up your thighs.

You stared up at him, unsure if he’d really go through with it. But then he lined himself up, his cock dragging through your folds, and you gasped at the contact.

He sighed low, almost like relief, as he sank into you with one long, slow push. The weight of him settling into your hips, the feeling of him filling you again—it made your head fall back, your mouth falling open.

The tension in the room turned molten.

Tommy’s hands slid to your thighs, gripping tight like he needed something to hold on to. His eyes flicked up to Joel, who was still settled at your side, close enough now that you could feel his presence, warm and electric.

You barely registered Joel moving until you felt his hand close around your wrist. Firm. Certain. He guided your hand to his cock—thick and hot and heavy—and curled your fingers around him like he was placing something sacred into your palm.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t hesitate.

You wrapped your lips around the head, soft and swollen and already leaking, and sucked—slow, reverent, like you’d been dreaming of this since the last time. And you had been.

Joel hissed through his teeth, his hand threading through your hair as you hollowed your cheeks and pulled him deeper. “Good girl,” he muttered. Your entire body clenched at the praise.

Tommy groaned above you, building up his thrusts, erratic and messy as you pulsed around him.

“Slow down,” Joel said, calm, instructive. “Long, even strokes. Deep.”

Tommy cursed under his breath but obeyed, grinding into you with a slower, heavier rhythm that made your whole body arch forward, your mouth taking Joel deeper.

“Good,” Joel murmured. “Now thumb her clit.”

You whimpered around his cock, the sound thick and broken. Tommy’s thumb slid over your swollen clit in soft, careful circles, and your whole body clenched around him.

“She’s grippin’ the hell outta me,” Tommy breathed. “Fuck.”

Joel’s voice was right above you now, rough but steady. “Spit on it.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Spit on her clit. She likes it messier.”

You moaned, mouth full of Joel, your thighs twitching.

Tommy grunted again, but when you felt the warm wet hit of spit on your skin, you moaned loudly, hips bucking. His thumb slid through the slickness building there, the glide smoother, filthier, perfect.

“That’s it,” Joel growled. “Keep her right there. Thumb her just like that. Don’t stop. Her throat is squeezin’ me so good when you do that.”

You couldn’t breathe. Your body was clenching up, something coiling in your spine and hips as he kept up the pace. Joel’s cock dragged across your tongue, thick and pulsing, while Tommy thrust into you—slower now, more precise, but still not quite enough.

You loved Tommy’s rhythm—the care in it, the way he was doing everything to get you there, the way he wanted to get you there. But your orgasm wasn’t building the same way. It was harder to catch, harder to ride. Joel’s cock had a weight, a stretch that reached something deeper in you—something that made your body respond instantly. With Tommy, it took more. He was only slightly smaller, narrower, not lacking, just… different.

Still good. Still yours. But different.

“She’s close,” Joel said, voice ragged now, eyes locked on your face. “I can feel it.”

Tommy groaned, cock twitching inside you as you clenched down hard. “Jesus, she’s—fuck, she’s so tight.”

“You wanna come for Tommy, sweet girl?” Joel asked, still beside you on bed, one hand fisted in your hair where it spilled across the bedspread, thumb brushing softly over your cheek.

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his—and in the same breath, Joel guided his cock back between your lips, sliding into your mouth with a slow, deliberate push that made your throat stretch and burn in the best way.

You gagged softly, the movement rippling through your body. Tommy moaned at the sudden convulsion of your walls around him, his one hand gripping your hip so hard it would leave bruises. The other kept circling your clit with his thumb, your eyes warring between rolling back and trying to focus on Joel. 

“Fuck—she just—goddamn,” Tommy breathed, his hips faltering for half a second before finding that rhythm again. Deep, slow strokes that had your whole body arching beneath him.

Joel pulled back with a wet pop, a string of spit and precum connecting your lips to the flushed tip of his cock. You were gasping for breath, whimpering and moaning as he leaned down close, hovering just over your face, thumb wiping at your mouth like it was his.

You were hovering now, your spine tingling with the build up. So close. But not there yet. Your body wanted more.

And Joel knew.

Of course he knew.

“Tommy’s got you so full, huh?” Joel murmured, voice like gravel soaked in honey in your ear, low enough that only you could hear. “Still not enough to make you come, greedy girl?”

His breath brushed the shell of your ear, and your whole body twitched.

You couldn’t answer—not with words. But your eyes found his, wide and pleading, glassy with need. You looked up at him from where your head rested on the sheets, Joel crouched beside you now, shadowing over your face like he could read everything you couldn’t say aloud.

And he could. He always could.

Your chest rose with a broken breath as your mouth parted—no sound, just air. One of his hands stayed tangled in your hair, grounding you. The other drifted down, palm dragging with reverence over your chest, and when it reached your breast, his touch went still.

He watched you as if testing the waters. The second your back arched into his palm, just a little, the faintest tremble of pleading… he smirked.

“There she is,” he murmured, his thumb brushing your nipple slowly and deliberately before twisting and palming, kneading your flesh. Your thighs jerked and your eyes fluttered closed, breath stalling in your throat.

Joel leaned in, voice like silk soaked in heat.

“Gonna have to beg him for it,” he murmured, this time loud enough for his brother to hear, dragging his thumb over you again as your back arched once more. “Go on. Show him how sweet you sound when you’re right at the edge.”

He kissed your temple, lips warm and just barely there before sitting up again.

“Show him what you gave me.”

Your breath was a broken thing, chest heaving, your legs locked around Tommy’s waist as his cock filled you over and over again, his thumb grinding against your clit with every thrust. You could barely speak—but you tried.

“Please,” you whispered, blinking up at Tommy. “Please don’t stop.”

His eyes were wide, blown out, sweat dripping from his brow, “Fuck,” he muttered. “Say it again.”

“Please, Tommy,” you gasped, fingers gripping his arms. “Please let me come—need it—need it so bad.”

Joel’s hand moved from your hair to stroke slowly over his cock at the edge of the bed, gaze flicking between your face and Tommy’s. “There it is,” he murmured. “You hear that? That’s yours, little brother. Make her fuckin’ come on your cock.”

Tommy’s rhythm picked up, driving into you with slow, hard strokes that hit deep, his thumb never stopping the delicious circles over your clit just like Joel had told him.

Your head fell back. Your thighs shook. Your whole body started to come apart.

As your jaw fell open, Joel took your mouth again—his cock thick and slick as it pressed past your lips, filling your mouth with one steady thrust. You welcomed it greedily, your moan muffled and broken, your tongue flattening beneath the weight of him.

Your back arched off the bed, body seizing with pleasure as your orgasm hit like a tidal wave—white-hot, all-consuming. Joel’s hand was back in your hair, holding you down, guiding your mouth as your throat fluttered around him, his cock pressing deeper with every pulse. The other squeezed and twisted your breast as you rode your high.

Tommy groaned loudly above you, his voice rough, desperate, like he’d just been torn open.

“Holy fucking shit,” he gasped, and his hips jerked once, twice—then stilled.

You felt it. The heat of him spilling into you, thick and heavy, your cunt already so wet and wrecked it only made you twitch harder around him. His breath stuttered out in harsh bursts, body shuddering as he emptied himself deep inside you.

“That’s it,” Joel growled. “That’s a good girl, baby.”

He fucked your mouth with slow, controlled strokes—gentle now, reverent—before finally pulling out, letting you fall back against the bed with a gasp, your chest heaving as your climax still rippled through your body.

Your vision blurred at the edges, nerves lit up like static. You barely felt Tommy at first—his hands adjusting on your hips, his breathing shaky.

Then, after a long, weighted pause, Tommy slowly eased back, slipping out of you with a wet drag that made your entire body jolt. You gasped softly at the loss, walls still fluttering from your orgasm, sensitive and aching.

The room went quiet again, thick and buzzing under the surface. You could hear Tommy’s breathing above you, could feel the shift in his body as he sat back on his heels, one hand sliding down your thigh as if to steady himself. He moved slowly to sit against the headboard, breathing heavily.

Your pulse thrummed at your neck, loud in your ears. You turned your head toward him, your skin flushed, lips swollen, heart racing. Tommy’s eyes found yours—dark, uncertain, something different behind them. Not anger or sadness, but something new and raw.

“Tommy,” you whispered, voice low, hoarse. You swallowed. “Can he…?”

You hesitated, heat prickling across your cheeks. You weren’t even sure what words you were looking for. You just knew what you needed.

“Can Joel… please?”

Tommy’s eyes scanned your face, then dropped to where your thighs were still parted, to the slick between them, to the tremble in your breath. He took a slow inhale, like he was weighing the cost of the question. Then he nodded. “Go on then. Show me what’s worth all this trouble.” You could swear there was a twitch at the corner of his mouth, a faint crinkle at the edge of his eyes. Not quite a smile. Maybe a dare.

Joel was already moving.

His hands found your body—confident, warm, rough as ever—as he pulled you up onto your knees and flushed your back against his chest. His arms wrapped around you easily, like they belonged there. Like he knew this body like the back of his hand.

You inhaled sharply at the feel of him behind you—solid muscle, the heavy press of his cock nudging against your lower back. He leaned in, mouth brushing your ear. His voice was low, rich, and dripping with something that made your skin tighten.

“Hope you’re payin’ attention, little brother,” Joel murmured, his grip tightening on your waist. “Gonna show you just how sweet she sounds when she gets what she needs.”

You watched Tommy’s jaw clench, and you muttered a short warning to Joel, “Stop,” 

Joel ignored you and his hand slipped down between your legs, fingers gliding through the mess Tommy left behind, gathering it in his fingers and spreading it through your puffy center, making your thighs shake.

“Jesus,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Still so wet.”

He let his fingers trail back up to your hip, palm splaying across your stomach as he held you there—against him, for him, like he was staking his claim right in front of Tommy.

Then he shifted. You felt the blunt head of his cock press against your entrance, thick and already slick from your mouth. Your breath caught.

“Hold on to me,” Joel murmured. His other hand slid up, cupping one of your breasts, his mouth brushing just behind your ear as your arms held tightly to his splayed over your torso.

And then he pushed in—slow, deep, deliberate.

Your body seized the moment he started to push in. The stretch was immediate—thicker, deeper, unforgiving. Your legs trembled, a broken moan slipping from your throat before you could stop it. It felt like your body forgot how to breathe, how to think—every nerve lit up as he filled you, inch by inch, until you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began.

Pressure bloomed deep in your core, sharp and aching, and still he kept going, his cock dragging against every hypersensitive spot until your thighs were shaking, your nails biting into his arm.

You gasped—"Joel!" sharp and high—and your head fell back against his shoulder like you couldn’t hold it up anymore. Your mouth parted, but no words came out. Just sound. Just a helpless, wrecked whimper that made Joel groan behind you.

Joel gritted his teeth, voice strained through a groan. “Fuck. Always so tight for me, baby. Takin’ me so good. Feels like he barely even touched you."

“Fuck off,” Tommy snapped from somewhere below you, voice rough, and you didn’t need to look to know he was watching—his breath hitched, uneven.

Joel noticed, too.

“My little brother’s gettin’ all worked up again,” he rasped, his cock sliding deeper, arms tightening around you. “Look at him, baby. Watchin’ you take my cock like this.”

You lifted your head just enough to find Tommy’s face—jaw locked, hand slowly fisting his already hardening cock as he sat back against the headboard, his chest rising and falling in shallow bursts.

Joel’s hand slid back between your legs, fingers circling your clit with unrelenting precision as he fucked you slow and deep.

“Talk to her, Tommy,” Joel said roughly.

Tommy shook his head, jaw clenched. “I—I don’t—”

“C’mon,” Joel grunted, thrusting into you harder, making you cry out. “You don’t want me talkin’ all this shit? Huh? Even if it makes her this wet—” his fingers slid lower, gathering slick, “—thinkin’ of us fightin’ over this sweet, perfect pussy?”

He fucked up into you hard as he growled, and it made you gasp in pleasure.

“Then talk, dammit.”

Tommy’s breath stuttered. You looked at him—desperate and open, mouth parted. You watched his throat bob as he tried to swallow whatever pride or hesitation was left.

Then, finally, his voice came low, rough, uncertain.

“You like this, baby?” he rasped, the words strange in his mouth but soaked in truth as he leaned forward, looking up at you. “Like me watchin’ while he fucks you?”

You moaned, the sound unholy and obscene as your body twitched. You tried to nod while Joel’s cock dragged deep again, slow and relentless, the stretch still too much, still perfect. 

“Oh, she fuckin’ loves it,” Joel growled in your ear. His palm slid up your chest, fingers curling over the other breast as he kept your back flush to him. “That look on her face? All fucked-out and needy.”

Tommy let out a shuddering breath. His eyes never left yours.

“Look at you,” he said, a little bolder now. “You’re so pretty like this. Letting us ruin you.”

Your breath hitched. Your thighs were shaking again, a whimper escaping as Joel’s fingers found your clit once more, slick and swollen. He rubbed you just right—tight, insistent circles that made your eyes roll back.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Joel grunted. “You close again, baby? I can feel it. You’re squeezin’ me so tight.”

Tommy leaned forward, looking up at you as he reached for your trembling legs, rubbing your skin and kneading it in his hands as his cock twitched in his hand, “That’s it, sweetheart. Come for us. Show us how much you love bein’ ours.”

That did it.

Your body clenched hard, a cry ripping from your throat as the orgasm slammed into you—fierce, fast, and overwhelming. You trembled violently, hips jerking, mouth open but wordless as you came again, harder this time, unraveling between them.

You were still shaking when your body started to shift—Joel's cock still buried deep, grinding against your overstimulated walls with every slow, hungry thrust. You reached forward, chest dropping toward the bed, bracing yourself on your hands as you whimpered through the aftershocks.

But you weren’t done. Not even close.

“Tommy,” you gasped, voice hoarse and half-broken. “Let me—please, let me touch you. Wanna make you come again.”

You reached for him blindly, your hand finding his thigh as he knelt close, cock hard again in his grip.

He looked stunned, blinking at you like he couldn’t believe it. “Jesus, baby,” he muttered, and he looked up at Joel, “How the hell are you still goin’ after that? The way she gripped me when--”

Joel gave a low, breathless laugh behind you, his thrusts never faltering. “Not my first time, remember?”

He leaned forward over your back, his voice rough and possessive in your ear.

“She gets like this,” Joel said, fucking into you harder now, making your arms tremble. “Once you open her up, she just needs. Can’t help herself, can you, baby?”

You moaned, loud and desperate, your hand finally wrapping around Tommy’s cock again, bringing it into your mouth.

Your husband groaned, hips twitching toward your touch. “Fuckin’ insatiable,” he breathed. “You’re gonna kill me, sweetheart.”

Joel grinned, lips brushing your shoulder before pulling back to straighten, gripping your hips. “She’s gonna milk us dry.”

You moaned at the filthy words, too far gone to be embarrassed, too full to care. You rocked between them, wrecked and desperate—Joel’s cock dragging deep inside you with each powerful thrust, your mouth stretched wide around Tommy’s length, tongue flattened along the underside.

Every time Joel thrusted forward, it shoved you farther onto Tommy’s cock. Your throat clenched, gagging slightly, and both men groaned—low and guttural at the dual sensation of your body constricting around them.

Your eyes watered, spit pooling at the corners of your lips as you tried to breathe around it, the slick sounds obscene in the best way.

Tommy’s hand came to your cheek, his thumb stroking gently along your jaw as he looked down at you. His face was tight with restraint, flushed and glassy-eyed, jaw twitching, “Look so pretty with a cock in her mouth, doesn’t she?”

Joel grunted behind you, slamming deep, making your body jolt forward. “Sure does,” he growled. “Takin’ us both so good, baby. Just like that.”

You whimpered, the only sound you could manage, body fluttering with overstimulation, throat spasming around Tommy’s cock as he hissed through his teeth.

Joel’s grip tightened, his thrusts getting faster, more desperate, and you could feel the wave starting to build again—relentless, all-consuming. You didn’t know how much more your body could take.

“Come on, baby,” Tommy groaned. “Fuck—your mouth feels so good, sweetheart. Just like that. Don’t stop.”

Joel leaned in, his voice thick with heat. “You gonna come again with your mouth full, baby? Think you can come for both of us this time?”

Your whole body responded—tightening instinctively, like those words alone triggered something deep inside. Joel’s hand slid beneath you, and you flinched with a soft gasp as his fingers found your clit again—soaked, swollen, aching from how close you already were.

It was too much. Too good. You couldn’t take it, and yet your body begged for more.

The touch was too light at first—then perfect. Circling. Pressing. Your spine arched, your thighs trembled, and your moan vibrated around Tommy’s cock, still heavy and hot on your tongue.

You could barely register where one of them ended and the other began—just pressure and stretch and friction and heat. Joel’s thrusts stayed deep and punishing, perfectly timed with the slow drag of his fingers.

Suddenly your whole body locked, muscles spasming as another orgasm tore through you—sharp and blinding, your vision whiting out as you clenched hard around Joel’s cock, milking him through every brutal thrust.

You moaned around Tommy’s length, the sound desperate and guttural, and that was all it took for either of them.

Joel cursed behind you—low, rough, wrecked. He thrust once, twice more, then buried himself as deep as he could go, spilling inside you with a broken growl. His hands were shaking where they gripped your hips, holding you there like he couldn’t let go.

The hot pulse of him filled you completely, thick and heavy, and the sensation only dragged your orgasm out longer, your legs trembling violently beneath you.

Tommy let out a choked moan above you, his hips stuttering as your throat fluttered around him. His hand cupped your cheek, and with one more shaky breath, he came—spilling into your mouth with a soft, desperate, “Fuck, baby.”

You took it all, swallowing around him as gently as you could, the muscles of your throat still spasming from Joel’s final, deep thrusts.

Then—finally—everything slowed.

Tommy pulled back with a groan, slumping onto the bed beside you with a heavy exhale, one arm flung over his face as he tried to catch his breath. Joel eased out of you from behind, and you whimpered at the emptiness, already missing the stretch of him, the weight. Your body felt boneless, dazed and trembling, as you rolled to your side and melted into the mattress beside Tommy.

Joel didn’t stay far. Within seconds, he collapsed on your other side with a low, satisfied grunt, still half-wrapped in heat and sweat. His arm slid beneath your head, pulling you gently against his chest until you were tucked in close, skin to skin, your cheek resting just below his collarbone.

You were fully tangled between them now—Joel’s leg brushing yours, Tommy’s chest warm against your back, his hand finding your thigh and resting there like a grounding weight.

The heat of three bodies lingered in the air—sticky and quiet and strangely comforting.

Tommy’s hand found your stomach and gave it a slow rub, and when you looked over at him—he was watching you, not angry, not brooding. Just… tired. And stunned.

You let out a laugh. A small, breathless one, but real.

Then another.

Your face tucked against Joel’s arm, shoulders shaking with laughter, and Joel chuckled too—low and lazy, like he couldn’t even muster the energy to be smug, “Troublemaker.”

Tommy let out a breathless huff, still holding you tight, and nuzzled into the curve of your neck. “I’m not sure I survived that,” he murmured, and then he started laughing too—open, surprised, stunned, “Feel like I blacked out halfway through,”

You turned your head toward him, smiling wide, and kissed the side of his mouth. “You were perfect.”

The three of you fell into an easy silence, wrapped up in sweat and warmth and the quiet hum of something unspoken—something new.

“Shit,” Joel muttered, his chest shaking from a chuckle, “Think we’re gonna need a bigger bed.”

And for the first time in a long time, the three of you were laughing together.

tag list: @alidiggory92 @pinkylouise @izzy698 @doblasftcisco @devotedlypaleluminary @elsplayground @puduvallee @victoriaholland @legoemma @leenieweenie12 @possiblyafangirl @alitaar @mads198-9 @emmaoc10 @auteurdelabre @the-last-twin-of-krypton @lilasskicker2 @levislegislation @flowercrowns-goodvibes

[ja3yun]

On the Roof || S.JY

stranger!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f.rec), cream pie, fingering, marking and biting, sex with a stranger, weirdly fluffy, petnames (princess, baby), mentions of bad relationships with parents, alcohol, comforting, do not have sex with strangers you meet on a roof, not proofread, anything else lmk! w.c: 9.7k synopsis: when you stumble across a boy on your apartment rooftop, you can't help but invite him to stay. a/n: hi! it's me. this is my first work back and honestly, it's not great but i just needed to get back in the swing of things so please be kind. I missed you guys a lot and the time away was exactly what i needed. thank you all for understanding, and i love you unconditionally!

The winter air tickles your senses as you push open the large, unfairly heavy door to your complex’s rooftop. It might be bitter, but it’s welcomed - your body creating unnecessary heat from both the walk up the three flights of stairs and the discomfort of your day. 

Your shift was hard, too hard. Considering it’s a brand new year, you had stupidly thought that people would be a lot nicer to public service workers, yet you were proven wrong. With countless patients’ loved ones screaming down the phone to you, doctors barking demands at you because they see you as lesser than them, and not to mention the one man who decided that spitting in your face was a rational reaction to you politely telling him that he can’t see his grandmother who was in the middle of an operation.

Safe to say, you’ve had better shifts as a hospital receptionist. 

But there was always one place you could count on to take a deep breath and reset. The rooftop. It’s quiet, overlooks the city, and helps you put into perspective that murder is not the answer to your life problems. But sometimes, God, you wish it was…

Gravel crunches beneath your feet as you make your way to the chairs you so perfectly placed underneath the solar-charged fairy lights, which hang half-arsed off the unused 1990 aerials. It’s not really how you would like to decorate the place, if you had it your way, you would have it looking reminiscent of the rooftop from Wish You, the same one you committed to memory as Lee Sang kissed In Soo for the first time. But since you’re not even supposed to have access to this part of the building, you’ll count the pathetic attempt at creating sanctuary as a win. 

The lights guide you to your seat when you see a figure hunched over, one hand holding a beer and the other holding his head. This is not what you were expecting to see. No one comes up here, not past 10pm anyway. There is one neighbour who occupies the premises when he needs a smoke without his wife knowing, but he works the night shift. So this person is new.

“Um,” you begin, clearing your throat ever so softly to alert them of your presence without giving them an acute heart attack. “Hi?”

Their head jolts up from their hand, eyes wide and face shocked. Clearly, they didn’t expect to have company tonight either. 

You focus on the figure in front of you – a boy, no older than yourself – scrutinising his features with a careful eye. As a woman, being vigilant around unfamiliar men has become second nature, an unfortunately ingrained habit of self-preservation you have mastered since before you can remember. So, your mind ticks through the usual checklist: is there a need to run? Are your shoulders getting that deep tingle that crawls up to your jaw? Is your gut making you want to vomit? None of those alarm bells ring. Instead, you’re met with something else entirely - uncertainty, maybe even sympathy.

The boy seems…fine, at least on the surface. No initial gut-wrenching unease claws at your insides. Emboldened by the absence of any red flags, you take another ginger step closer, studying him in detail.

His large, tired brown eyes peer out from behind thick-rimmed glasses, the weight of exhaustion evident. The glasses sit securely on his pretty thick nose. His lips, naturally full and a muted pink, are set in a neutral line, though the light could be softening their actual colour - it’s hard to tell beneath the hood’s shadow. Greasy, near-black hair clings to his forehead, unkempt but thick. 

His outfit doesn’t fare much better to be honest; a mishmash of layers that hints at desperation more than deliberation. Faded grey jeans hang loose and crinkled, clearly worn more than once without a wash. Over a white t-shirt sits a black hoodie, topped off with a jacket far too big for him, the kind of size that suggests it doesn’t belong to him at all. The entire image strikes you in a way that leaves concern pricking all over your chest.

Steeling yourself, you step closer again, your voice soft but firm. “Are you okay?” The question is sincere, meant to come across as a kind gesture - like when you let a cat sniff around your hand before you just go in for the pet. Your eyes meet his, offering as much warmth as you can muster. There’s something about the way he sits, cold and crumpled, that pulls at your humanity.

At first, his expression flickers, betraying something fragile beneath the surface. But it doesn’t last. In an instant, his jaw sets, and his shoulders square in a defensive shift. His cheeks hollow as his tongue presses against them, words unspoken but clearly brewing. The moment hangs in the air, heavy and awkward. 

It’s as if your simple question has poked at a bruise, tender and raw. You’ve touched something buried, and for reasons you can’t yet work out, his reaction irks you. Of all things to take issue with, why this? What on earth had he expected - for you not to ask a very valid question? Perhaps it’s the day you’ve had that’s caused the unnecessary offence on your behalf.

He averts his gaze, the connection between you severed. Instead, he tips back the beer bottle in his hand, his focus shifting to the cityscape below. The quiet glug of liquid slipping down his throat is the only response you get, and it grates against the care you offered.

A flicker of irritation sparks within you. Perhaps it’s the brush-off, or maybe it’s the contradiction in his actions. He’s sitting here in your space, looking like the embodiment of a cry for help, yet recoils at the smallest act of kindness. Still, you don’t back down. Instead, you shift your weight and tilt your head, keeping your tone neutral but unwavering.

“Fine, If you don’t want to talk, that’s sound,” you say, folding your arms against the cold. “But sitting out here, looking like the world’s chewed you up and spat you out…people are going to ask questions like ‘are you okay’ or ‘what’s the matter’. Just saying.” You huff out and follow his gaze to the city. People are having a much better day than you out there, and envy jabs at you.

For a moment, you think he’ll continue ignoring you; his shoulders remain tense, his grip on the bottle firm. But then he sighs, the sound long and weary, like air escaping a deflating balloon, one being pinched and controlled. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, a surprising Australian accent whistling through the wind.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, though the words lack conviction. His eyes remain fixed on the horizon, steadfastly avoiding yours.

“You’re a terrible liar,” you counter, letting a small, dry smile tug at your lips. “And you’re also not allowed up here.”

A tense silence follows, broken only by the chug of a train in the far distance. It’s not exactly comfortable, but neither is it unbearable. You find yourself wondering who he is and what’s brought him to this specific rooftop. 

“You can’t get up here unless you’re a tenant,” you blurt out, trying to get any morsel of information from him. You figure the quicker you find out what he’s doing here, the quicker you can find a solution for him to leave and then have your safe space back to yourself. You might have sympathy for him, clearly having a hard time of life, but so are you - and your comfort outweighs a total stranger who can’t even bother to look your way.

“Okay,” he says bored, sipping his beer again. 

“That’s your invitation to either tell me that you moved in recently, or, your queue to leave because you’re trespassing.” 

“Invitation declined.”

He is so rude, you think to yourself, though you wonder whether you should just call him out for it and at least gain some reaction for him. 

Instead, you park yourself in the seat next to him, huffing as you drop down. “Well I’m not leaving until you do,” you state matter-of-factly, attempting to not let his presence ruin your mood even further. You suppose, if he sits and shuts up, you can at least pretend he isn’t here invading your space.

Though technically, you’re invading his, but you get the idea.

The boy side-eyes you, a small, angry smirk etching onto his cold rosey face. “Yeah? Well, you’re gonna be here for a long fucking time.” He spits his words out, frustration laced within each syllable, though you can tell it’s not directed towards you. The boy is so far in his own head that you begin to realise that any discontentment he might have has less to do with you and your presence, and more to do with the reason he’s hibernating on your rooftop.

So, you sit back, and leave him be. To be honest, you’ve dealt with far worse and crabbier people today, in comparison, this boy is like rainbows and kittens.

Closing your eyes, you let the white noise of the night take over you, infiltrating all your tension and disdain towards the day, and settling you into a comfortable silence. The fairy lights above add a serene atmosphere that you crave after work, the faint lights providing some fake warmth. They were not easy to get up there, but a few falls and tangles later, you realised that all the scrapes and twirls were worth it.

The hooded boy beside you peaks over, finally taking you in as more than an inconvenience. He notices how you breathe in deep, exhaling with a sigh of relief and a cloud of warmth that combats the freezing air. 

It doesn’t take him a minute to realise that you’ve had a bad day too, and a pang of guilt hits him. He’s being unfair to you when you probably just want to relax under the night sky and here he is taking up space. 

He takes up too much space.

Reaching down at his feet, he picks up a bottle of beer from his case, the clinking not even disturbing your quest for serenity. He pokes your thigh with the bottom of the bottle, gaining your attention. When your eyes meet once again, there’s a sorrowful look on his face, the alcohol a form of apology for being an arsehole. It’s an apology you’ll gladly accept. 

“You look like you could use it,” he murmurs, offering a tight smile as he waits for you to take the brown glass bottle.

You wrap your hand around the base and lift it up in thanks. “I could use ten sambucas and a pint of tequila to wash them down,” you snort out a sarcastic chuckle, beginning to unscrew the cap. You need to thank whatever genius decided that bottle openers were too much hassle and gave people a much easier and more practical way to open a bottle of beer. You hope they’re having a good night.

The boy lets out a laugh, short but genuine, raising his own bottle to his lips. “That bad, huh?” he asks, voice muffled slightly by the glass.

“It gets like that,” you shrug, taking a long pull from the bottle, barely savouring the taste, routing around for the effects of calmness that it will bring rather than its pallet. “Comes with working in a hospital.”

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity momentarily overriding his gloom “Nurse?”

“Receptionist.” You correct him, hissing out as you absorb the alcohol. Beer is not your favourite taste, a Sex on the Beach is much more appealing, but you would down a tank of gasoline if it meant you could get rid of this stress.

He sucks in an empathetic breath, whistling low as he leans back against the seat. “Yeah, you need a gun, not alcohol.”

The comment catches you off guard, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, you laugh - really laugh. It bursts out of you, raw and unrestrained, carrying away the weight of the day. Life isn’t inherently awful, but it’s lonely sometimes. Working back shift in the hospital makes it hard to keep friends or any semblance of a social life. The most interaction you get that isn’t disgruntled patients or angry phone calls is on twitter with your online friends, but even then, it’s a rise-and-repeat conversation cycle of ‘for real’ and ‘same’ replies to posts you make about Jang Kyungho when no one is looking. 

Not exactly the deep human connection that people need.

So this, being able to laugh and have a bit of understanding for even a second, is comforting. It almost makes you feel bad for cursing the boy out in your head.

Smiling, you extend a hand to him, “Y/N.”

He hesitates for a fraction of a second before taking it. “Jaeyun,” he replies, offering you a smile in return. It’s faint but sincere, a crack in the armour he’s wearing so tightly.

As he grips your hand in his, you feel the ice-coldness on his skin, a clear indicator that he has been up here for quite some time. Or at least out in the open air. It only makes you more intrigued - and with him being a little slither more open with you, you decide to take the nugget and run with it.

So you talk, and talk, and talk. It feels like forever but it’s actually only two hours. Not a lot is said, but you learn some things about him; hobbies, interests, friends, his favourite TV shows and Films. All surface-level stuff, yet it feels like you’re speaking to an old friend. He learns about you too - the same stuff, with added anecdotes about working in a hospital.

But there is one thing that you are dying to know.

“So,” you begin, twisting your patio chair to face him fully, the legs scraping along the asphalt of the roof. “You can guess I’m here after a bad shift…why are you here?” Your face is expectant, waiting for an answer while you drink your beer.

But Jaeyun’s face is overcome with a flash of rage, partly due to your question, but more the fact that your question made him think about the reason he is here. Though, as quickly as his face shows agitation, it dissipates just as fast. Instead, he opts for an obtuse response. “Just wanted to enjoy the view. That’s all.”

“Couldn’t do that from your own building, no?” you tease lightly, humour softening the prodding tone. But your persistence nudges too close to something real. “Oh... did your girlfriend kick you out?” The words tumble out before you can stop them, too sharp and intrusive.

Unfortunately, it’s a habit of yours to be so nosey that it comes off inconsiderate or produces ill-timed questions. In this instance, it’s both.

His grip tightens on the neck of the bottle. The knuckles whiten, the tension visible. For a moment, he studies the label, reading the same ingredients over and over as if they hold the secret to life's greatest mystery - what happened on that fishing trip in Gavin and Stacey.

“My parents did. Yeah.” His confession is sharp, devoid of emotion

Your stomach drops. “Oh...” It’s all you manage, guilt prickling at the edges of your thoughts. You’re so stupid for poking Y/N! You inwardly scold yourself. Obviously, this issue is so much bigger than you can process. Still, your mouth will continue to flap around. 

“Yep.” He pops the p with bitter precision, his tone teetering on the edge of sarcasm. “Apparently, I need to ‘get my act together.’” He says with accompanying quotation marks from his fingers.

“As in?”

“As in I need to be their perfect little boy and follow in my brother’s footsteps - be a lawyer.” The words fall flat, heavy with resentment.

Nodding along, the pieces form enough for you to make your own solid conclusions. “And I guess you don’t want that?”

“Fuck no.” Jaeyun scoffs out a bitter laugh. “I’m more likely to need a lawyer than be one.”

“Ohhh a bad boy huh?” you wiggle your brows, trying to interject some semblance of humour into the moment while sussing him out, to lighten his load even just a smidge. You can’t begin to imagine what his parents said or did to him once he rejected their concept of a perfect life, and you don’t really want him to dwell on it right now either.

He laughs despite himself, a quiet sound that momentarily lightens his expression. “Maybe.” It’s a noncommittal answer, but he seems content to let you spin your own version of events.

Honestly, he is not bad in any shape or form. But when he says he would need a lawyer rather than being one, he means that that career is so absurd that even a goody too shoes like him is more likely to get in trouble before he stands in a suit.

He just wants to live his life without this great expectation, without people demanding he ‘do better’ when he knows he is doing just fine; he’s in a great University, studying music and production, and has a decent part-time job at the record store, which isn’t loads of money, but enough for him to pay his mum and dad digs and still have a life outside their constraints. He’s doing fine, or so he believes.

But fine isn’t enough for his parents. Their love towards their own son is tied to the weight of their expectations, ones he can’t - or won’t - carry.

“So they just…kicked you out?” you ask carefully, noting the sorrow in his features as he turns the events of the past few months in his head. Sympathy creeps back into your chest, any lingering annoyance dissipating along with the last sips of your beer.

“Yeah,” he confirms, sighing and shrugging. “It’s fine.”

“Are you staying with friends or…” You don’t finish the question because you’re scared of the answer; the dishevelled clothes and hair are enough to semi-confirm.

Jaeyun looks up, his gaze catching the glimmer of the fairy lights, their soft glow reflected in his dark irises. “I was, until a few days ago. You can only couch-hop for so long before people start to feel like you’re intruding.”

He holds no malice towards his friends, no bitterness in his tone, and honestly, his best friend Sunghoon said he could stay for as long as it took him to save up for an apartment of his own. But he doesn’t want to take advantage of his kindness, the boy already doing more for him than most would have. Even Jay, his other friend, offered to loan him the money for the first month's rent on a flat uptown. 

But Jaeyun’s pride wouldn’t allow him to take advantage of their kindness. He would manage on his own, no matter how hard it got.

Seeing the pity in your eyes, he waves his hand to brush off your concern. “It’s fine, I’ve scraped up enough money to get rent now. I just need to find a place,” he smiles softly, appreciative of your sympathy even if he doesn’t want it. “I’ll be fine. I’m going looking tomorrow.”

There’s a sense of relief that his words bring you. Although his predicament isn’t ideal right now, it looks like it could be on the turnaround, and for that, you’re thankful.

“If it’s only for one night, do you want my couch?” The offer spills out before you can stop it, surprising even yourself.

Jaeyun laughs heartedly, eyebrows knitting in disbelief and amusement. “You’re fucking stupid.”

“Huh?!” you exclaim in shock. It’s not really the response you were expecting. A yes? Sure. A no? Absolutely. But an insult to punctuate your act of kindness was a curveball.

Sitting up straight, he places his beer on the ground, an amused smile softening his features. “I’m a random man you’ve known for a couple of hours. I could do anything to you in your own home, and you don’t seem the slightest bit worried about that.”

Okay, maybe he has a massive point. You don’t know him and he could literally attack you at any moment. And considering earlier you had to assess him before approaching, it shows that you do have the common sense not to let him stay with you.

But he poses no threat, none whatsoever. He’s just a boy in a fucked up situation, and your kind heart can’t see him freeze; god knows how many nights he’s been out. He’s already reminiscent of Jack Dawson turning into a block of iced body parts.

“Well, you won’t right?” You throw the question back to him. “I mean, to be honest, I’ve let men in my bed for a lot less than a tiny conversation and a beer.” 

As soon as the words tumble out of your mouth, your cheeks flush to match his cold ones, neck tingling in embarrassment. You’ve just confessed that your standards are abysmally low - you’ve slept with men who didn’t even have the decency to buy you a drink nevermind learn your name.

Jaeyun stifles a laugh, rubbing at his eye. “For your pride, I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” The smile on his face is so beautiful that you’re caught off guard a little. Now you wish he was one of the men you let roll around on top of you for a compliment and a ride home.

His expression shifts, returning to a more serious note, though the smile lingers. “Seriously, Y/N. Thank you for the offer, but I only have” - he glances at his watch - “six hours before sunrise anyway.”

“Seriously, it’s no trouble-”

“I’m serious too,” he interrupts gently, slouching back into his seat. “You should go in. It’s cold, and after the day you’ve had, you need sleep.”

“I-”

“Y/N.” His tone is firm but not unkind. “I’m fine. Go. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

His refusal stings in a strange way, the rejection of your kindness more personal than it should feel. But you know better than to argue with someone so resolute. It never ends well. So, with a resigned nod, you down the last of your beer and stand.

“Okay,” you reply, setting the empty bottle aside. “I’m in 4A if you change your mind. I can grab some blankets? Pillows?”

Jaeyun places a hand over his heart, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Thank you, Y/N. Truly. But I promise I’ll survive.”

And so, you leave him there, your heart tugging at you to insist, to argue, to make him take shelter in your tiny flat. But your feet keep moving, respecting his wishes.

As you reach the door, you glance back one last time, the words caught in your throat. You just hope he’ll be okay.

_____

The rain lashes, jolting you awake. It’s not the pretty white noise rain that you enjoy, it sounds like hundreds of tiny little pebbles being pelted at your window. Strange. It was forecast as clear skies until at least Tuesday. 

You blink groggily, groaning at the interruption. You can’t have been asleep for more than two hours - if that. Begrudged, you turn your back to the outside, shielding yourself from the rain that cannot attack you. Yet, an unsettling feeling stews in the bottom of your stomach, the kind that makes your heart beat faster and your mouth gain moisture.

It’s not uncommon for you to have random spouts of anxiety, all your life you’ve suffered from it, but this isn’t your typical ‘my brain is going to bring up that one time I peed myself in primary 2 and had to be sent home’ anxiety. This is something more.

Fuck.

Jaeyun.

The thought hits you like a bolt of lightning and your body moves before your mind can catch up. You fling off your pastel pink duvet, slide your feet into your beloved fuzzy slippers, and throw on a housecoat to cover your half-naked form. If you had the right mindset and not half asleep and half in panic, you would have grabbed a rain jacket and some trainers instead.

Thought, without thinking about your own state, the chilly air cuts at your skin as you make your way to the roof. The rain, now mixed with hail, pelts down hard, each sting enhancing your concern. Your eyes roam around near the seated area, one of your hands shielding your eyes from the brutal hailstones, each one nipping your hand in anger. 

"Jaeyun?" you shout, your voice cutting through the storm, only to be drowned out by the constant rain. You get closer to the seats and see nothing. Panic overwhelms you, hot and stifling. "Are you still here?"

As you spin around, your eyes finally land on him. He’s slumped up against the rooftop enclosure which acts as a headboard to an uncomfortable concrete bed. His jacket and hoodie are doing as much to protect him as a candyfloss blanket, each soaked through and clinging to his skin. How can he sleep like this? It makes you wonder if he lied about just how long he had stopped couch-crashing and living out in the open.

Quickly, you drop to your knees beside him, ignoring the puddle that entrenchs your legs, and place your hand on his shoulder as you shake him awake. “Jaeyun?” you bellow, loud enough for him to startle awake and instantly put a guard up.

“Huh?” he mumbles, voice thick with confusion.

“Come on, I’m not leaving you up here,” you inform. This time, it isn’t a question but a demand. You have too much compassion to willingly leave him up here any longer.

Jaeyun’s eyes squint through his water-splattered glasses as he takes in your figure. “Y/N? What the fuck are you doing? You’re soaked,” he states the obvious, yet oblivious to his own state. “Go back inside.”

“Not without you,” you fire back. “Grab your things.”

“But-”

“Either that or I stay up here with you,” you cut him off, voice firm though only kindness shines through.

You can see the conflict in his face, his concern for your drenched state outweighing his stubbornness. He sighs, defeated, and finally nods. “Fine.”

If there is one thing Jaeyun hates to be is a burden, but it seems no matter what happens, he will inconvenience you in some way - might as well choose the drier option.

Standing upright, you extend a hand, offering him some help up, but he refuses. Instead, he grabs the duffle beside him and clumsily gets up, following you down and into your apartment.

As soon as he walks into the warmth, his bones leap with excitement and his shoulders relax in contentment. You flick on the lights which allows him a better view of your personal space. And it is exactly how he imagined it.

Your walls are covered in art and photos of you and your friends, lyric posters from bands he has never even heard of, and a shrine to TO1 in the corner. It’s cosy, lived in, and he feels a massive pang of envy. 

“You can use my shower,” you say while subconsciously tidying up, removing the cups and wine glasses that have piled on the coffee table. “Luckily for you, I like wearing guy’s clothes on my period so I’ll see what I can find to fit you.”

“Seriously, Y/N. I’ll just, dry off with a towel or something, No Stress.” He doesn’t like the fuss but he can’t deny he doesn’t feel a little fuzzy as you make space for him. 

Scoffing, you turn around with a perplexed look on your face. “A towel? Jaeyun, you’re soaked to the bone. You need a shower and then you can have a towel, okay?” 

A grateful grin adorns the boy’s face as he takes his shoes off. “Okay. Thank you, Y/N. Seriously.” Jaeyun nods, clutching his damp duffle as he trudges towards the bathroom. 

You point out the way, adding a quick, “Towels are on the rack, and there’s shampoo, soap, and more in there. Just use whatever you need, okay?” 

With another muttered thank you, he waddles to your bathroom, suddenly enthralled with how the night has panned out. It’s been a while since he had a decent shower, and the ones in the Uni’s lockeroom are made more for a quick wash down than a deep cleanse.

As he disappears into the bathroom, you let out a sigh, glancing around your apartment. It isn’t a mess by your standards, but you suddenly feel self-conscious about the clutter. Usually, when people are up, it’s those who are either only making their way to your bedroom or those who do not care and have known you long enough to understand that you like a bit of mess.

A messy home is a home loved.

The sound of running water echoes from the bathroom, and you take the moment to rummage through your wardrobe. You pull out a pair of joggies and an oversized hoodie that has seen you coming every cycle for the past three years. You can’t get much more comfort than these. They’ll be a bit loose on his slim frame, but they’re warm and dry.

Speaking of which, you glance down at your own rain-soaked state, grimacing. The slippers squelch faintly with each step, and the damp housecoat clings unpleasantly to your skin. Without hesitation, you pull out a baggy t-shirt and some old pyjama shorts, slipping into them after quickly drying off your hair with a towel that’s close by. It’s not inherently clean, but it serves its purpose, so that’s good for now.

Satisfied, you place the clothes Jaeyun will borrow on the sofa before heading to the kitchen. The kettle hums to life as the storm outside continues its symphony, the hail getting more dangerous and cutthroat. A hot cup of tea feels like just the thing to chase away the chill, after all, there’s little problems in life that a good cuppa can’t fix.

Just as you reach for the tea bags, the creak of the bathroom door pulls your attention.

Jaeyun steps out, his damp hair falling messily over his forehead, droplets of water glistening on his skin. A towel sits promiscuously low on his hips, and despite yourself, your gaze trails downward. The delicate silver chain around his neck catches the light, the cross pendant resting at eye level with his pretty brown nipples. Your eyes wander further, taking in the faint definition of his toned abs, the subtle dip hinting at a v-line. And his cock is outlined perfectly to give you an idea of his size and width but you can tell it still doesn’t do him justice. 

You realise with a jolt that your mouth is slightly open, and the train of your thoughts is taking a decidedly inappropriate detour. Heat rushes to your cheeks as your mind conjures up scenarios you’d never admit aloud. A pang of guilt follows swiftly - this boy has been through hell, and he’s come to you for solace, not to be gawked at.

“Sorry,” Jaeyun says, breaking the spell. His voice is soft, a mix of embarrassment and strange pride, as he catches your lingering stare. “I’ll get dressed. I just…didn’t know where the clothes were.”

“Oh!” You clear your throat and nod toward the sofa, purposefully keeping your gaze above his shoulders. “Yep, just there. Help yourself. I think they’ll fit.”

As he moves to retrieve the clothes, you busy yourself with literally anything else - studying the ceiling, adjusting the kettle, anything to avoid the moment and stop trying to catch glimpses of his cock. 

You don’t hear the rustling of clothes though, instead, you just hear yourself breathing, which piques your interest. Why isn’t he changing?

Subtly, your eyes glance over to him and then you see it, the look on his face as he stares at the clothes. You’ve had that look before too, the one that comes with the mixed feelings of disbelief, shame, sadness, hope, and every other conflicting emotion that arises when you’re down and out.

“Thanks,” he whispers, “For all of this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you reply, taking a few small steps forward. But Jaeyun shakes his head, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“No, really,” he insists. “I…I don’t think I’ve met someone as kind as you in a long time.” His voice breaks on the last word, and he quickly looks away, ashamed of the vulnerability slipping through. 

He has his friends, they are kind and generous much like yourself, but being kicked out of his own family has also shown him the darkest parts of humanity, the ones that he doesn’t let others know that he’s experienced. Truthfully, he’s just a scared boy who needs his family. 

The admission punches through your chest, leaving no room for hesitation. You glide over to him as your arms wrap gently around his shoulders. 

If a cuppa can fix most things, a hug can fix them all.

At first, he stiffens, unsure how to respond, but then he relaxes, his head lowering slightly against you.

“It’s okay,” you murmur softly. “You’re going to be okay. Maybe not right now, but soon.”

Jaeyun’s arms tentatively come up to return the embrace, and for a moment, the storm outside fades into irrelevance. His eyes close and for a change, he believes that it will be fine. This moment isn’t going to last forever, once the morning blooms, he’ll be out of your life and trying to get back on his feet, but he’s thankful for the reassurance and hope right now.

Pulling back slightly, his arms still lingering around you. His eyes, uncertain and yearning, flicker between your face and your lips. Then, without a second thought, he leans in and presses his lips to yours - a fleeting, hesitant kiss that seems to catch even him off guard. 

His lips retract from yours as he draws back, his face flushed with embarrassment and horror. “Sorry,” he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. Why the fuck would he kiss you without consent when you’ve been so kind towards him? He thinks. His hand twitches at his side, as though unsure whether to retreat or reach out again. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Would it make you feel better?” you interrupt gently, your voice soft but steady.

His brows furrow, confusion flickering across his features. “What?”

“Would it make you feel better?” you repeat, tilting your head slightly. There’s no judgment in your tone, no hesitation. “To kiss me?”

“Really, no, it’s okay-”

This time, you close the distance, your lips capturing his before he can finish the sentence. It’s slow, deliberate, a kiss that tells him you’re here for him despite still being strangers. His initial surprise melts into something deeper, something warmer, as he responds cautiously at first, then with more certainty.

It actually is making him feel better, the human connection, it’s nature's balm.

So he follows your lead, his arms tightening around your waist, holding you impossibly close as his hands splay over your back, covering most of the surface. The way his plump lips move against yours is magnetic, sucking and pulling you into his world. You’ve been kissed more times than you can count - shamelessly to say - but his mouth feels a little different; a little less icky than the others and a lot more like they’re meant to be on yours.

With that feeling charging your bloodstream, your hands fly up to his damp hair, craving to have him on each of your senses. You can’t get enough of him, his taste of beer from the numerous bottles he downed on the roof, the touch of his silky locks that are in need of a haircut, his scent of your strawberry milk body wash mixing in with his own musk, how he sounds when he growls into your mouth, showcasing that he’s just as desperate as you are for this. 

You need him…

Swiftly, your hands trail from his head, down his neck, your nails lightly scratching down his collarbones until you reach the veins just above where you were unabashedly looking not 10 minutes ago. 

Jaeyun pushes your ass against the sofa, bucking up into you, hips deliciously working to place your hand on his cock. God, it feels beautiful, even with the fluffy barrier. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moans deeply into your mouth, passing the need from himself into you. Your hand grips his covered shaft as you palm him teasingly. “Don’t do this if you don’t want to.” 

Honestly, he doesn’t want to say anything that will make this stop, his body pulsing with the desire to have you wrapped around him. But he also believes in consent, and while you both might be horny-induced 22-year-olds, you’re also strangers. 

Shaking your head adamantly, you grip his dick harder, smiling at the whimper it draws from him. “I want this, Jaeyun.”

“I suppose, men have been in your bed for a lot less, right?” he chuckles into your mouth. And while it could come across as an insult to some -  that he’s essentially throwing back your own slut-shaming dialogue from earlier -  you feel no degradation or malice behind his words. You can tell he’s playful, under all the dreary circumstances. He’s a boy who has light and laughter built into his DNA. 

Maybe it’s delusion, maybe it’s a soul connection, or maybe it’s the fact that you need to bounce on his cock within the next five minutes or you’ll perish that’s clouding your judgment. 

Either one, you let it slide.

So, playfully, you slap his chest and break the kiss. “Keep talking and you won’t get the chance to see my bedroom.”

“That’s okay, I can fuck you here,” he replies quick-witted, suddenly hoisting you up on the back of the couch, the wood and material digging into your ass not uncomfortably. 

You laugh and so does he, looking into each other’s eyes, and it all feels so right. 

Bringing your hand up to his face, you push his hair off of his forehead and reveal his eyes - the light from your living room dancing in his pupils, much like how they had been on the rooftop, but this time, there is an abundance of happiness that adds to the shine. 

“You’re so pretty,” you confess, that no-filter brain coming into full effect once again. Granted, a much better consequence of it. 

A faint, rose blush crawls across the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose, a bashful grin on his mouth. “Thank you. Personally, I think you’re prettier so…”

“Guess we can be pretty together, huh?”

“Pretty good together you mean?” 

Another laugh jumps out of you and you cup both his cheeks, the warmth of them comforting and worth cherishing. You peck his nose. “I should have known a pretty boy like you would be a charmer.”

He shrugs, kissing your nose back, not bothering to rebut. Instead, his hands guide your legs to wrap around him, hands finding your ass, and he lifts you up. You can’t ignore his cock now semi-hard pressing into you as he bounces you into a comfortable position.

Securing yourself, you circle your arms across his shoulders and kiss him once again, letting him lead you down your hallway, anticipation and greed passing through your breaths and tongues. 

“Which one?” he pants out, squeezing your ass as he does so.

“This one on the right,” you point half-arsed, too lost in the moment to give it a full thought. 

Awkwardly due to your wriggling body, Jaeyun opens the door, trying to view a path to which he can reach your bed without falling over your clutter. Shoes and more lay abandoned over your carpet, creating an obstacle, but one he refuses to lose. 

Jaeyun finally reaches your queen-sized bed and gently places you down, his cock pressing into you even more. 

It’s only then that he realises that along the way from your living room to your bedroom, his towel has fallen down, leaving his exposed cock rubbing against the fabric of shorts. “Jesus fucking christ.”

You look at him and see the pleasure on his face, biting his lips as his eyebrows knit together, rubbing against you again. It makes you giggle, you don’t know why, but he just brings it out of you.

The sound from your lips draws his attention back. “What?” he breathes out heavily, cock thumping with need as he humps you again.

“Maybe you should be inside of me while you thrust - kinda how this whole sex thing works,” you playfully jab, biting your lips together to stop from laughing. But he laughs for you, resting his forehead on your chest and shaking his head in amusement.

“Shut up, I’m just excited.”

“I can see that, yeah.”

It’s easy with him, you’re noticing, like you’ve somehow been in a relationship for years and you’ve just come home from a couples date with your married friends, two bottles of red wine consumed, and adoration palpable in the air. You have two dogs, maybe three if you can get your way, and you are the annoying pair that people hate to hang out with because your love for one another never dwindled, not even after all those years.

Maybe you shouldn’t be fantasising about a life with this random man you met on a roof, but that’s where your brain immediately goes each time you banter or giggle with one another.

He’s different.

Jaeyun stands up, letting you see his cock as he pumps it gently, getting it to full mass. The fact that it’s standing at 5 inches already and still growing causes an ache in your stomach. Fuck, it’s going to feel so good inside of you, your walls are already leaking out for it, staining your pyjama shorts. 

His hands grip your shorts and peel them off, hurriedly throwing them on the floor, only adding to the chaos. Your legs instinctively spread and the juices from your excitement gleam in the moonlight, looking like a ripe fruit just ready to be devoured.

And devoured it will be.

Hoisting you down, Jaeyun positions you at the end of the bed until your ass is almost hanging off, kneeling down between your thighs. Not exactly how you thought the turn of events was going, but you are the furthest from mad at it.

“You look so fucking delicious, Y/N.” Jaeyun’s comment makes you feel exposed but not in a bad way, yet, you still want to hide from him. As your legs try to close, he places his large hands on your thighs, shaking his head. “No, princess, the only way you're shutting your legs right now is if you’re clamping my head between them.”

“Jaeyun…” you whine, both at the petname and his breath ghosting over your hardened clit, making it weep again - much to Jaeyun’s delight.

“I know, princess. You need it, huh?” Jaeyun whispers, kissing up your inner thigh and around the area you crave him most. 

The heat in the room is electric, any cold you both felt from the rain now disappeared from your bones and replaced with scorching intensity. Your hips follow the blow of his breath in search of connection but he simply places a chaste kiss on your clit before pulling away, a smirk on his face as he sees you whimper and squeak.

“You make the prettiest noises when you’re desperate, Y/N,” he gloats, though it’s prideful and not arrogant. He means it, and that’s why he keeps teasing you softly, puckering at your folds and giving you just enough to have you humping the air and arching into him.

“I’m never letting you use my shower again,” you laugh in discontentment, your arm flying across your face as you hide in the comfort of your bicep. 

Jaeyun huffs a laugh, echoing your own amusement before he speaks. “I know, I’m being so mean considering you’ve been so kind, huh? You’re just so cute when you’re like this.”

“I’m about to become a bitch if you don’t do something,” you warn lightly, peaking down to look at him under your arm.

“Well, I better get to it then right?”

And with that, his thick tongue stripes up your folds, gathering and savouring your wetness. Your back arches off the bed and pushes just enough onto him that his nose catches your clit. “Fuck!” you bellow. 

The tip of his tongue searches for your nub, and once it hits the spot and your hands fly to his hair, his lips suction around it, almost making out with it. 

He’s not real you think to yourself. You can’t help the jealousy that rises inside of you as your brain works overtime to imagine just how many girls he has had to go down on for him to be this good at eating you out. If there was ever such a thing as a pussy eating contest, you know he would win hands down because he’s already got you chanting his name, punctuated by profanities. 

“Right there, Jaeyun…fuck…” 

His pride swells and he grows more confident, tongue flicking quickly over your button as he drools over your cunt. It’s safe to say that Jaeyun loves pussy. If he could have it morning, noon, and night, and elevensies, he would without hesitation. Especially yours. The taste of your tang and sweetness is enough to put him in a frenzy, long forgetting about his aching cock and focusing solely on drinking you up.  

He humps the air though, as he always does, resembling a dog in heat as he slabbers and grunts into your cunt. He nibbles at your clit and soothes it with his wet muscle, a smile plastered on his face with each movement - your noises urging him on.

He brings his middle and ring finger to your pulsating hole as it clenches around nothing, deciding to give you some more relief. As he plunges in, you scream out in joy, an open-mouthed smile on your face as coherent words get lost in your throat. You clearly don’t get eaten out as often as you deserve, and that just spurs Jaeyun on more to be the best you’ve ever had.

“So wet for me, princess. Taste so fucking good I want to be here for hours.”

And while that sounds nice in theory, you need him inside of you now. His fingers, thick and beautiful, are nice for now, but that 6-inch, throbbing cock is calling your name. So, you pull him away much to your pussy’s weeping plea for him to keep going, his mouth covered in your slick which is perhaps the most beautiful sight you have ever seen -  and you’ve seen the Northern Lights on a crisp autumn morning. 

His fingers never stop though, just curling inside of you slowly, beckoning your climax still. “What’s wrong?” he asks, concern weaving in his tone.

Sitting up on your elbows, you smile and pant, trying to maintain a steady voice while the tip of his fingers presses against your soft spot inside, jaw slacking each time he holds it for a little longer. “I need your cock so back, Jaeyun. I’m so serious.” The words are desperate and real, shamelessly desperate. 

“You sure you don’t want to cum right now? I can do it.” It’s not like he can’t make you cum over and over again anyway. 

Shaking your head, you sit up, hunching over to cup his face. “Please. I really need you to fuck me.”

A primal desire flickers past Jaeyun’s eyes and a quick nod tells you that he needs it too. His cock jumping for joy at the thought of being enveloped in your tight cunt. So, he withdraws his fingers and licks them clean, pulling on a show as his tongue weaves through his digits, wide eyes looking up at you with sheer longing. It stirs something inside of you, something that suddenly makes you want to grow a cock and have him choke on it. 

But you quickly shake those thoughts, pulling him up by his hair and kissing him deeply. His tongue now tastes of you and you are so glad you love sweet juices and decided that for the past three weeks, cranberry spritz has been your favourite. 

Jaeyun makes quick hands of stripping you of your t-shirt, leaving you both naked and clawing at one another. 

“You got condoms?” he asks between kisses, trailing down your neck as his hands grip your hips so tightly that the skin turns white. 

But you don’t want that. You want to feel him. Raw and unfiltered. Is it stupid? Of course, it is. But some would say letting him inside your home never mind inside your body is already wreckless, so, what’s another reckless abandonment on your list tonight?

“No. No condom, please,” you mumble against his hair as you kiss the top of his head, your conditioner filling your senses.

Jaeyun freezes his mouth and darts up, eyes seeking yours to make sure he heard you right. “Huh?”

“No condom. I’m on the pill,” you stroke his cheek tenderly, “Please, Jaeyun. Do this with me just once, yeah?”

For some reason, that ‘just once’ pangs in the boy’s chest and he hates the feeling more than anything. He doesn’t want this to be once, he wants this to be again, and again, and then some more. Jaeyun isn’t one to believe in fate but considering he chose your flat complex rooftop out of all the others in the city, and it decided to pour down - even though it’s been dry for the past two weeks - which led to you coming to get him and practically drag him into your home; he would say that doesn’t happen by chance. 

Although, instead of getting in his head, he agrees, lust overpowering his responsibility to be safe. “I want it too, so fucking badly,” he leans down, rubbing his leaking cock on your slit, mouth moving to your ear. “I can’t wait to cum inside you, fill you up and make you suck me in.”

Does he know where this confidence came from? Perhaps it was the way you whispered into the air his name over and over again how good you felt while he ate your pretty little cunt, or maybe it's the fact that if this is your only time under him, he will damn make sure you’re thinking about him for the rest of your life.

The heels of your feet move with his ass as he gyrates his hips, allowing his cock to snag on your clit and elicit a hiss from both of you. Your lips messily leave open-mouth kisses over any skin that you can reach; his neck, cheek, lips, forehead, all of it, the feeling of his glistening skin on your lips addicting.

“Please, Jaeyun. Fuck me. Right. Now.”

Your pleading snaps him into full throttle, his hand guiding his cock to your entrance, his bell expanding and contracting as he slips inside of you. Your groans of pleasure harmonise in the winter night, both your bodies connecting fully as he bottoms out slowly, balls meeting your ass as he pushes in to the hilt.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, burying his face in your neck, and you lock him in there, fisting his hair and bucking your hips for friction. He fills you up so good you wonder why humans are born empty and not with a permanent cock up their pussy. 

You never want him to leave.

“Move, Yunnie, please.” The tone of your voice doesn’t carry much conviction but portrays your desperation for him. The nickname falling off your cock-drunk tongue much to his happiness. If anyone ever calls him Yunnie again, and it overtakes the way you whimper it out, he will commit murder. Only you can call him that, call him whatever you want, call him by his name, ever again.

Obeying your wishes, he begins to pull back his hips and move them painfully slow back into you, feeling each bump of your walls and how they meld perfectly with the veins of his fat cock. 

While he loves savouring the moment of you taking him in, feeling how your hole adapts to his girth and length, creating way just for him. “Faster, Yunnie. God, please.”

“Asking God to help get what you want is crazy considering it’s me you should be begging,” he chuckles, never increasing his pace. 

“Shut up, please,” you whine out, grabbing his ass and trying to physically move him to speed up.  

“You can ask me to shut up but not beg me to move faster?” he tuts, going even slower, “C’mon, princess. Ask me nicely.”

You want to slap him, a dry laugh coming from your throat as you fight between your pride - telling you never to do as a man says - and your need for him to start jackhammering into you. 

Well, you suppose you can let your pride have a night off for a chance.

“Jaeyun, please, move faster. I’m begging you. Fuck me faster and harder.”

Those sweet yet filthy words send Jaeyun into orbit, and he grants your prayers. With his hands pushing down your hips, he begins to thrust with ferocity, the tip of his cock not punching into your cervix. It’s much more delicious than you ever could have imagined, the way he snaps into your cunt with no restraint, your pussy taking a beating in the best way possible. 

This is heaven.

“Yes, Jaeyun! Yes! Don’t fucking stop, please.” 

And stop he does not. In fact, he lifts your legs over his shoulders and folds you in half, the new angle somehow reaching so deep you can feel him poking your stomach. You have never felt this good in your life. A cock has never made your brain turn to mush or made your hands literally peel the skin from your partner’s back before, yet here you are, chanting incoherent words into his ear and clawing up his shoulder blades.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, princess. Taking my cock so well.” Jaeyun breathes into your neck, nipping at your skin and he marks you right back. His praise makes you smile, kissing all over his face in appreciation for the pleasure he is giving you right now. “Such a good girl, Y/N.”

You could cum that minute, and he feels how you clench around him, sucking him in further, making him tip his head back and move even faster. He wants you to cum together, and with how good your pussy feels, he isn’t far from it.

“You sure you want me to cum inside?” he asks again, trying to gauge whether you could have changed your mind. But you grip his hair and stare into his eyes. 

“If you don’t, I’ll kick you out back into the rain.”

Jaeyun laughs. Hard. Your threat is meaningless because you clearly would never leave him out there again to drown in the winter hail, but it does get your point across. You don’t just want his cum, you need it. And luckily for you, he is happy to oblige. 

So, with your consent, he works on getting you both to the edge, his right hand coming down to your clit and rubbing it in smooth circles, a juxtaposition to his harsh thrusts. And you begin to see stars, constellations, as you arch your back and wriggle under him. The coil in your tummy burns with the insatiable pull. 

“I’m cumming! Yunnie, I’m cumming,” you warn, happiness filtering the air as you buck your hips and match the rhythm of his shaft penetrating you. “Cum with me. Please, baby.”

Baby

His balls tighten at the petname and groans loudly. “Call me that again.”

“Baby, cum inside me,” you repeat within a moan, forcing your eyes open to lock onto his. “Cum with me.”

And just like that, with the final clench of your walls around him, he spurts his white seed inside of you, a primal roar escaping his lips as each rope coats your canal. You cum with him, his name falling from your lips over and over again as you chant out in hymn. 

“Squeeze it, princess. Take it all like you want.” He validates you without ridicule, a grin of glee etching onto his face as his body shakes with the euphoria he feels. You were right, cumming inside of you is much better than a condom.

After a while, both your hearts begin to slow down and his body collapses onto yours. His lips lazily kiss your sweaty skin on the top of your breast, your fingers threading through his now dry hair, the only wetness coming from persperation. Its intimate, despite the newness of the situation, and you can’t help but plaster a smile on your face.

It feels so right.

And you’re not the only one who believes so.

Jaeyun gathers some strength to lean on his arm, cupping your face as he strokes your cheek. “Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” His voice is wavering due to exhaustion, but it’s overshadowed by sincerity. 

Placing your hand over his, you titter slightly, the sound making Jaeyun’s stomach knot and cock pulse inside you once again. “You mean having sex or staying in my house and abusing my shower privileges?”

“Both.” He murmurs earnestly, pinching your cheek. “I also want you to abuse my shower…when I get one.” The last part of that sentence falters slightly, his voice dipping as if suddenly comping back into his reality.

But you won’t let him dwell in it. Instead, you reach up to kiss him gently, lips expressing the reassurance you worry your words might not. And it seems to do the trick because, in an instant, he’s kissing you back with passion, taking each swipe of your tongue against his as confirmation that you want to have this again and see where it goes. 

It could lead to nothing but it could lead to everything.

And he needs to find out.

[gf2bellamy]

I have no idea if I hallucinated that requested this or smt, so totally ignore this if i've already asked.

But could you ever do a fic where spencer is at the hospital from that time he got shot at, and reader gets his belongings while he's in surgery and she sees a ring box in between them. (Engagement ring ofc) And she talks with spencer after and tells him that she saw it.

That's kinda the idea, love your work and thanks in advance if you decide to write it. 🥰

ring — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: spencer is in the hospital because of his neck injury , mention of a shooting, reader being worried / panicked , a/n: hii !! i loved this request so much that i ended up writing like 5 different versions of it - i hope you like this !! <33 ( also i definitely got carried away with this )

Blake had practically shoved you out of the hospital waiting room, insisting you go to Spencer’s apartment.

You didn’t want to leave—not when Spencer was still in surgery, not when every second felt like an eternity of uncertainty.

But Blake had been firm but kind. “He’s going to be okay, but he’ll need things when he wakes up.” 

You had resisted at first, your mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Garcia’s call hours earlier had sent your world spinning. “Spencer’s been shot,” she had said, her voice trembling.

You didn’t remember the drive to the hospital—only the blur of streetlights and the pounding of your heart. When you arrived, Blake had met you in the waiting room. She explained that a bullet had grazed Spencer’s neck, that it was serious but not life-threatening.

Still, the word “surgery” had lodged itself in your chest.

It wasn’t until the doctor emerged to tell you the surgery had gone well that you finally agreed to leave. Spencer was stable, but he wasn’t awake yet, and visiting hours were over. Blake had told you, “Go pack a bag for him. He’ll need clothes when he’s discharged.” 

Now, standing in the middle of Spencer’s apartment, you felt weird.

The space was so him—neatly organized bookshelves, a chessboard set up on the coffee table, and the faint scent of Earl Grey tea lingering in the air.

It was comforting, but it also made his absence feel more pronounced. You took a deep breath and got to work, pulling out a duffel bag from his closet and starting to pack. 

You began with the essentials: a few pairs of pants, sweaters , and socks. You couldn’t help but smile as you grabbed a handful of mismatched ones. But then you remembered his purple scarf, the one he always wore when the weather turned chilly. It was his favorite, and you knew he’d want it when he was discharged. 

The problem was, you couldn’t find it. 

 You opened drawer after drawer, your frustration growing with each one. Spencer was organized, but the scarf was nowhere to be found.

“Where is it?” you muttered under your breath, your hands moving faster as you rifled through his things. You checked the top shelf of the closet, the hooks by the door, even the laundry basket, but it wasn’t there. 

Finally, in a last-ditch effort, you pushed aside the row of clothes hanging in the closet, your fingers brushing against something soft and familiar.

There it was—tucked away in the very back, as if it had been hidden on purpose.

But as you pulled the scarf free, something else tumbled out, landing softly on the carpet at your feet.

A small, rectangular white box.

Your breath hitched as you stared at it, your mind racing.

You carefully placed the scarf in the duffel bag, your hands trembling slightly as you bent down to pick up the box. 

The box was too small, too specific to be anything ordinary. You held it in your palm.Slowly, almost hesitantly, you lifted the lid. 

 And there it was. 

A ring.

A beautiful, delicate ring with a diamond that caught the dim light of the room, scattering tiny rainbows across your hand. It wasn’t just any ring—it was an engagement ring.

The realization hit you like a tidal wave, knocking the air out of your lungs. You sat down heavily on the edge of Spencer’s bed, your legs suddenly unable to support you. 

 “Oh my God,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. Your eyes were wide, your mouth slightly open as you stared at the ring, unable to look away. The diamond sparkled, almost as if it were alive, and you reached out to touch it lightly, as if to confirm it was real. The metal was cool against your skin, the stone smooth and perfect.

Your mind raced, trying to process what this meant. You couldn’t help but already imagine the moment he might have planned—his nervous smile, his hands fidgeting, his voice soft as he asked the question. The image was so vivid it made your heart ache. 

You sat there for what felt like an eternity, the ring cradled in your hand, your thoughts spiraling. But then, like a jolt, you remembered where you were supposed to be.

The hospital. Spencer.

He was still there, still recovering, and you were sitting here staring at a ring. 

Carefully, you placed the ring back in its box and closed the lid. Your hands were still shaking as you tucked the box into the duffel bag, burying it beneath the clothes and the scarf. You stood up, slinging the bag over your shoulder, and took one last look around the apartment.

 As you locked the door behind you and headed back to your car, your mind was still spinning.

The drive to the hospital was a daze. The streets blurred together.

Before you knew it, you were pulling into the parking lot. You sat in the car for a moment, gripping the steering wheel tightly, trying to steady your breathing.

The ring. It was all you could think about. 

Finally, you forced yourself to move, grabbing the duffel bag and stepping out into the cool night air. The walk to the entrance felt surreal, like you were moving through a dream. The automatic doors slid open with a soft whoosh, and you made your way to the waiting room.

You sat down in one of the stiff chairs, the duffel bag resting heavily in your lap. Your thoughts were a swirling mess, replaying every moment, every interaction with Spencer over the past few weeks. Things that had seemed innocent at the time now took on a new meaning. 

A couple of weeks ago, he had dragged you into a jewelry store, casually asking what styles you liked. You had laughed it off, thinking he was just curious. Then there were the random dinners at different restaurants, him intently watching your reactions as you tried new dishes. “What kind of food do you like best?” he had asked, his tone light but his eyes serious.

At the time, you hadn’t thought much of it. Now it all made sense. 

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice Blake walking in. She sat down across from you. It wasn’t until she spoke that you snapped back to reality. 

 “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice gentle. 

You blinked, finally noticing her presence. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Thanks,” you mumbled, forcing an awkward smile.

Your voice sounded distant, even to yourself, and you could tell Blake wasn’t entirely convinced. She studied you for a moment, her gaze flickering to the bag in your lap. 

 “Did you get everything you needed?” she asked, her tone casual. 

You glanced down at the bag, your fingers tightening around the fabric. “Yeah, I got him some sweaters, pants, and just… clothes in general,” you said, your voice trailing off as your gaze drifted to the wall behind her. Your mind was already wandering again, back to Spencer, back to the ring, back to the unanswered questions that were swirling in your head. 

And then, almost casually, Blake added, “And scarves?” 

That got your attention. Your head snapped up, your eyes locking onto hers. She was smiling slightly, her gaze knowing. “You found it, didn’t you?” she asked. She took in your wide-eyed expression, the way your hands tightened around the duffel bag, and she didn’t need an answer.

She already knew. 

“He asked me for advice,” Blake continued, shaking her head as if recalling the memory. A soft laugh escaped her, and you could tell she was amused by the whole thing.

“He did?” you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart was pounding, your mind racing to keep up with the conversation. 

“Yes,” Blake said, her smile widening. “He wanted to make sure he got it right. Spencer’s not the type to do anything halfway, you know that.” 

A smile tugged at your lips—maybe the first genuine one since Garcia’s call had shattered your world hours ago. You let out an emotional chuckle, the sound shaky. “It’s a beautiful ring,” you admitted, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“It is,” Blake agreed, her voice warm. “He spent weeks looking for the perfect one. Even spent hours in one store, agonizing over the details. You should’ve seen him.” 

You had to brush a tear from your eye as another chuckle escaped you. “That sounds like him,” you said, your voice thick with emotion.

The thought of Spencer meticulously searching for the right ring, second-guessing himself, trying to make sure it was perfect—it was so him. So thoughtful, so Spencer. 

It was a lot to process and your mind was still spinning, when suddenly a nurse appeared in the doorway of the waiting room. 

 “Are you two here for Spencer Reid?” she asked.

You nodded immediately, jumping to your feet so quickly that the duffel bag slipped from your lap and landed on the floor with a soft thud. Blake reached down to pick it up, handing it to you with a small smile. “He’s awake,” the nurse continued. “You can see him now.” 

Your heart leapt into your throat, a mix of relief and nervousness flooding through you. You turned to Blake, expecting her to follow, but she stayed seated, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

“Are you not coming?” you asked, your voice tinged with confusion. 

Blake shook her head, her smile soft and knowing. “I’ll give you two a moment,” she said gently. Her tone left no room for argument, and you realized she understood. The emotions were about to be high, the moment intimate, and Blake was giving you the space you needed. 

You smiled, gratitude washing over you. “Thanks, Blake,” you said, your voice sincere. She nodded, her eyes warm, and with that, you turned and hurried after the nurse, the duffel bag clutched tightly in your hands. 

The walk to Spencer’s room felt both endless and far too short.

Your mind raced with a thousand thoughts, a thousand questions, but all of them faded into the background when the nurse stopped outside a door and gestured for you to go in. “Thanks,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

The nurse gave you a reassuring smile before walking away, leaving you standing there, your hand hovering over the door handle. 

 You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, and then pushed the door open. The room was quiet, the only sound the soft beeping of the heart monitor. Spencer was lying in the bed, his eyes closed, his face pale. For a moment, you just stood there, taking him in, relief flooding through you at the sight of him alive and breathing. 

 And then his eyes fluttered open, as if he could sense your presence. “Hi,” he said, his voice hoarse. 

 “Hi, Spence,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you closed the door behind you and stepped closer to his bed. Your eyes scanned his face, taking in the faint lines of exhaustion and the bandage on his neck.

You set the duffel bag down on a nearby chair, your hands fidgeting nervously as you tried to find the right words.

But before you could say anything, Spencer’s lips curved into a small, tired smile. “You’re here,” he said, his voice soft.

“Of course I’m here,” you replied, your voice breaking slightly. The words felt inadequate, but they were all you could manage. Spencer watched you with a weak smile, his eyes soft but tired.

You weren’t entirely sure how to approach the situation. Your hands hovered awkwardly at your sides, unsure whether to touch him or keep your distance.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, your voice gentle as you stood right next to his bed, close but not quite touching. 

 “I’m okay,” Spencer said. He tried to sit up slightly, wincing as he shifted. You instinctively stepped forward, your hands reaching out but still not making contact. “You sure? Do you want me to get you something? Water? A pillow?” you offered, your voice tinged with worry. 

“No, no,” Spencer shook his head, managing a small smile as he finally settled against the raised bed. He glanced at you, his eyes searching yours, and then he whispered, “You can touch me.” 

The words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stared at him. He had noticed—of course he had. Your hesitation and your fear of hurting him if you touched him.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You immediately rushed to sit down on the edge of the bed, where he had slightly patted the space beside him with as much energy as he could muster. Your hands found their way to his face, brushing the hair away from his forehead, your fingers trembling as they traced the lines of his face. 

“God, you scared me so much,” you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of everything you’d been holding in. Spencer closed his eyes, leaning into your touch as you continued to gently twist his hair between your fingers. Your hands eventually drifted down to his face, brushing over his cheekbones, your touch feather-light.

Spencer let out a soft sigh, his eyes still closed, his breathing steady but shallow. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

When he opened his eyes, you stared at him for a moment, trying to absorb the fact that he was really here, awake, and alive. The relief was overwhelming, but so was the flood of emotions you’d been holding back. You wanted to say so much, but the words felt tangled, caught somewhere between your heart and your throat. 

Instead, you forced a small smile and shifted the conversation to something lighter. “I got you some clothes,” you said, gesturing to the duffel bag. “I figured your hospital gown isn’t exactly comfortable.” 

“It’s not,” Spencer admitted, his voice still weak but with a hint of amusement. You set the bag on your lap and opened it slightly, pulling out a few items to show him. “I got you some books too,” you added, hoping to distract him—and maybe yourself—from the heaviness of the moment. 

Spencer’s interest was immediately piqued, his tired eyes lighting up just a little.

“Which ones did you—” he started to ask, but then he stopped mid-sentence. His gaze had landed on something in the bag, and his expression shifted.

You followed his eyes and realized what he was looking at: the purple scarf. It was peeking out from beneath the stack of clothes.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The room felt suddenly smaller, the air thicker.

Spencer’s mouth opened slightly, his eyes darting from the scarf to you and back again. You could see the realization dawning on his face, and your stomach dropped. 

“It was an accident,” you finally said nervously, breaking the silence. Your voice was rushed, almost apologetic. “I didn’t mean to find it. I was just grabbing your scarf because, you know, it’s freezing outside, and I thought you’d want it when you’re discharged, and—” You stopped yourself, realizing you were rambling. “I’m sorry,” you added, shaking your head and offering an awkward smile. 

Spencer, meanwhile, was full-on blushing, his pale cheeks now flushed with color. It was a stark contrast to how he’d looked just 20 seconds ago.

He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, clearly at a loss for words. His cheeks were still flushed, his eyes darting nervously around the room before finally settling on the wall behind you. He looked completely lost in thought, his mind racing a mile a minute. 

“No—it’s… it’s okay,” Spencer finally managed to say, though his voice was quiet and hesitant. He still wasn’t looking at you, his gaze fixed on some distant point as if he were trying to gather his thoughts. 

“Spence?” you asked softly, your slightly trembling hand reaching up to gently cup his face again. Your touch seemed to pull him back to the present, and his eyes slowly met yours.

“I’ve been planning this for a long time,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. Your hand fell from his face, but he caught it before it could retreat, his fingers intertwining with yours. His grip was firm, almost as if he were afraid you might pull away. “I asked Blake for advice,” he admitted, his tone sheepish. 

“I know,” you whispered, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “She told me.” 

Spencer didn’t seem surprised that Blake had shared that with you. Instead, he nodded, his eyes dropping to your joined hands.

“I wanted it to be perfect,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “I had a speech prepared, and I—I was going to have this whole routine on how I would ask you.” He tightened his hold on your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m sorry you found out like this,” he added, his voice hesitant.

He opened his mouth again, meeting your eyes for a brief second before looking away, as if he couldn’t bear to hold your gaze. 

The room fell silent. You could see the disappointment in his expression, the way he was beating himself up for not being able to execute his plan the way he’d envisioned. But to you, none of that mattered. What mattered was the love behind it, the thought and care he’d put into something so meaningful. 

After a beat of silence, you finally spoke, your voice soft.

“My answer is the same either way,” you whispered. 

Spencer’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, he just stared at you, as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard you correctly.

“You want to…?” he started, but he didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to. The hope in his eyes said it all. 

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yes,” you said, your voice firm despite the tears welling in your eyes. “Of course I do, Spencer. How could I not?” 

His breath hitched, and for a moment, he just looked at you, his expression a mix of disbelief and pure joy. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face—a real, genuine smile that lit up his entire being. He squeezed your hand tighter, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again.

You smiled, your own eyes slightly glossy as you looked at him. The room felt quieter now, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.

“Now you have to heal faster,” you whispered, your voice teasing but tender as you brushed your thumb over his fingers, “so we can get working on our wedding preparations.” 

Spencer’s eyes lit up at the word wedding, his lips curving into a smile that was equal parts shy and delighted.

For a moment, he just stared at you, as if he were trying to process the reality of what you’d just said. Then he let out a soft laugh, the sound warm and genuine despite the hoarseness in his voice. 

“Wedding preparations,” he repeated, his tone a mix of awe and amusement. “I… I hadn’t even gotten that far in my planning yet.” He paused, his smile turning sheepish. “I was so focused on the proposal that I didn’t think much about what would come after.” 

You chuckled. “Well, lucky for you, I’ve got plenty of ideas,” you said, your tone playful. “But first, you need to rest and get better. No more getting shot, okay? I can’t have my fiancé—” The word felt strange but wonderful on your tongue, and you paused, savoring it for a moment before continuing, “—running around getting himself hurt.” 

Spencer’s smile widened at the word fiancé, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Fiancé,” he murmured, as if testing out how it sounded. “I like the sound of that.” 

“Me too,” you admitted, your voice soft. You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, your lips lingering for a moment against his skin. When you pulled back, his eyes were closed, his expression peaceful. 

“I’ll heal faster,” he promised, his voice quiet. “I’ve got a wedding to plan now, after all.” 

[nineteenninety-six]

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ Chocolate Bars and Injuries

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Reader

AN: I ofc watched The Pitt and became obsessed so here’s a fic! Beware of medical inaccuracies and ooc-ness and there should be a second part because I can’t stop my self

TW: Parental death, usual medical injuries etc

Synopsis: Jack unintentionally bonds with a young patient and then somehow even more unintentionally, falls for his older sister.

PART TWO PART THREE

Dr Jack Abbot would never admit it, especially aloud but he was terribly bored. The ED wasn't exactly busy at that moment with borders waiting in the hall waiting to be transported to the appropriate departments in the hospital. Dr Shen was in triage with a med student, residents were tending to the higher priority patients coming through triage, and Dr Ellis was checking in on patients which left Jack bored at the nurses station and Jack Abbot 'hated' being bored, especially on shift.

He eyed the patient board, hoping for something even slightly interesting. Just as he was going to take another coffee break when a new case appeared on the screen. A simple adolescent with a supposed fracture, low stakes but it was something to occupy his time and so he pushed himself to his feet and swiped a tablet from the charging station, making his way to the room.

You tried your hardest to comfort your little brother as he wiggled uncomfortably on the hospital bed, trying to keep him from moving his injured arm but as time passed, it was getting increasingly harder for you to do so.

A traumatising experience months ago had meant that when you suggested taking your brother to the hospital after an accident on the jungle gym earlier that day had ended up resulting in a meltdown. It had taken hours of convincing and begging, along with a promise to get a new toy for him to finally agree and you found yourself in a sweet spot in the hospital that night. It was late enough that the rush of the day crowds had left but too early for the late night antics crowd had not yet arrived so they only had to spend an hour in the waiting room before they were shuffled into the ED and onto a free bed. Your brother had already had his x-ray taken when you arrived and so you were just waiting for the results.

You were internally debating whether or not you should quickly run and grab a chocolate bar to placate your brother when the curtain was drawn open and you were greeted by a doctor and a nurse.

"Hi there, I'm Dr Abbot" The man's eyes flicker between the two of them on the bed and then his tablet. "And I've heard you've hurt yourself little guy."

Your little brother, Caspian, whimpers in response, curling up even closer to you.

"We had a fall at the jungle gym earlier," You responded as you tried to untangle yourself from your brother, "He hurt his arm."

"I've got the x-ray results here and it looks like you've got a fracture so we'll give you a cast and then you'll get to go home." Dr Abbot turns to the nurse beside them and quickly mutters off what he needs before the nurse nods and leaves them.

"You hear that Cas?" You turn to your brother, "Nice and quick!"

Caspian's pout deepens, "Chocolate?"

You huff a disbelieving laugh at him before you turn to Dr Abbot who watched the both of you with a curious look.

"Is there a vending machine here?" You ask, already reaching for your purse.

"Yeah, down the hall and around the corner" Dr Abbot tells you, "I'll stay with him, the nurse will be back shortly."

You turn back to Caspian, cautious of how he would do without her, "I won't be long. Please behave for Dr Abbot"

You stepped past Dr Abbot as you left and he was momentarily dazed by the scent of your perfume as you breezed by. He watched you until you disappeared from his line of sight and then brought himself back to reality. For all he knew, the kid on the bed was yours and you were probably married as well.

Caspian eyed Dr Abbot with apprehension as the doctor took a seat on the stool. The doctor was generally quite awkward with children, of course he came across them and treated them when they arrived in the ED but talking and interacting with children was just out of his comfort zone. 

"So, uh, what's your favourite chocolate bar?"

Caspian giggles at his questions, his shoulders retreating from his shoulders as he considers his answer.

"Kitkat!"

Dr Abbot laughs, "Yeah? I like that too."

"I'm going to get a new toy tomorrow!" Caspian bragged to the doctor.

Jack couldn't help but laugh again. He had no idea why but he finds it easy to talk and get along with the kid.

"Yeah..Because you're doing so good today?" 

"Uh-huh!"

You returned shortly with a handful of chocolate you had got from the vending machine, interrupting their conversation and Caspian perked up at the sight of you, eagerly reaching for a kitkat.

"Thank you~" Caspian spoke around a mouthful of chocolate.

"Don't be gross and don't speak with your mouth full." You chastise Caspian, as you dumped the rest of your haul into your bag but Dr Abbot spied the smile on your face despite your words.

Soon the nurse returns with the supplies for the cast and Caspian is brought back to earth, crying into your shoulder as you try to comfort him.

"You can sit with your mom little man, but you gotta shift a bit so I can access your arm."

You freeze momentarily at his words. It's not the first time you've been mistaken as his mom, you're most definitely old enough to be but since you've gotten custody, it's happened more frequently.

"Oh I'm not his mom. I'm his older sister." You correct the doctor.

"Oh" Dr Abbot pauses, "My apologies"

You shrug, "It's fine. No worries"

Dr Abbot was silent as he wrapped Caspian's arm, only breaking the silence to ask him what colour Caspian wanted before he returned to his work. Truthfully, he wouldn't normally do something like this but it was quiet in the ED that evening and he had also taken a little liking to the quiet boy and his sister.

After he had done the final patches, he looked up and saw Caspian half asleep in his sister's arms and so he lowered his voice as he spoke to you.

"We're done here." Dr Abbot shifted his stool a bit closer to you, "It'll take around four to six weeks to heal and the nurse will be back with your discharge papers and your care plan that outlines the next steps."

"Thank you" You smile at Dr Abbot, "Seriously. Cas doesn't have the best experience in hospitals and I don't know how you did but he felt calm around you. He is usually quite upset and irritable but I think he likes you."

"Ah, it wasn't me, he's a cool kid." Dr Abbot felt shy, almost, of the gratitude he was receiving.

After you thanked him one last time before he left, you waited patiently for the nurse to return but as you dug in your bag for one of the chocolates you bought earlier for a snack, you unknowingly woke your young brother.

"Dr Abbot likes KitKat…" Caspian murmurs against your shoulder, surprising you.

"Holy sh—" You gasp, your heart thundering against your chest, "Did I wake you?"

Caspian nods before he repeats what he said, "Dr Abbot likes KitKat."

"...Yeah I heard you…" Your words trail off as you get a sudden idea, digging back in your bag for a random receipt and grabbing a pen nearby.

Hours later, long after you and your brother had been discharged, Dr Jack Abbot was sitting at the nurses station, taking a breather after a sudden rapid set of back to back patients. He was sipping his coffee and talking to the night shift charge nurse when the nurse he had worked with earlier made their way over to him with something in their hand.

The nurse had a soft smile as they passed over the item, "This was left behind for you."

Jack reached for the item, a curious expression on his face. "By the kid?"

The nurse nodded before they left, returning to other patients.

Jack looked down at the item and smiled. It was a Kitkat bar wrapped in an old receipt that had a little note scribbled on it.

'Cas said you liked Kitkats. I hope you enjoy it ❤'

Veronica, the night shift charge nurse curiously peers over at him, "What's that?"

Jack waved the chocolate bar before he opened it up and took a quick bite before he elaborated, "The sister of the kid with the broken arm left this for me. She bought a bunch from the vending machine earlier."

Veronica smiled at him, "That's kind of her."

Jack smiled to himself, "...Yeah"

It would be just under two months later when you see Dr Abbot again but at least this time it was you in the hospital bed and not Caspian.

It was nearing one am and you were relaxed in the hospital bed, sleep tugging at you as you tried your hardest not to drift asleep. Caspian was fast asleep in your lap and you felt almost jealous of him. If your palm wasn't almost split in half and burning in pain, you would have gone to sleep and gone to the hospital the next day but alas that wouldn't have been a good idea.

You were on the edge of falling asleep when the door opened and a doctor introduced himself.

It was Dr Abbot again.

The doctor paused at the end of the bed, recognising you as well.

You sat up, the urge to sleep disappearing at the sight of the doctor, smile tugging on your lips, "Dr Abbot, it's you again"

"You know, most people don't see an ED doc twice in a month and if they do, they usually aren't happy about it" Dr Abbot replied as he read over your chart.

“Can I be technical and count them separately?” You joke, “Once as a family member and once as a patient, they can’t be combined.”

“Says who?” Jack asks, pulling up a stool up to your side to examine your wound.

“I say,” you joke once more, pausing when Dr. Abbott looks up at you. “Or do I need a doctor’s backing as well?”

His movements are gentle, pausing to give you a moment to breathe after you wince in pain when he gently pulls away the dishcloth you had haphazardly wrapped around your hand after you had sliced it open. His words are soft as he explains his actions, his voice a low murmur that sends a warm shiver down your spine. His touch is soft yet firm, confidence and warmth radiating through his gloves as he pokes and prods around your wound.

"How did this happen?"

"Lost a fight against a craft knife" You laugh.

"Yeah, those don't tend to end well." Jack murmurs, eyes still on your hand.

"I found some of those DIY decorations online and decided to try it out," You huff and roll your eyes, "I think next time I'll just stick to stuff in the stores."

"It's going to need stitches" Dr Abbot announces as he pulls back and stands, "I'll be back with the nurse and then we can get started."

Dr Abbot disappears quickly but the door slamming behind him wakes Caspian and now you were tasked with calming the tired and irritable five-year old with one hand but when Dr Abbot returns, all of Caspian's bad mood disappears at the appearance of the doctor. You were surprised he even remembered Dr Abbot but you weren't going to complain.

"Dr Abbot!" Caspian beams.

"Caspian!" Dr Abbot indulges the young child, "How's your arm?"

Caspian flaunts his cast free arm proudly, "It's better now, it doesn't hurt nomore!"

"And you're keeping out of trouble? Being good for your big sister?" Dr Abbot asks, gently guiding your arm into the correct position as he pulls the tray of equipment he needs closer.

Caspian nods before you pass him your phone and send him to the chair in the corner of the room so he can entertain himself and not see you get stitched up.

"I wanted to apologise again about last time" Dr Abbot says as he meticulously stitches you up after he numbed the area.

At your confused expression, he elaborates, "When I called you Caspian's mother."

"You're not the first one to think that so don't beat yourself up. I'm twenty-five years older than him so it's a common assumption," You clarify, laughing at the shocked expression on the doctor's face, "I was a 'oh shit we're too young to have kids baby' and he was a 'oh shit we're too old to have kids baby'."

Jack can't help but be curious, his mouth opening before he could stop himself, "And you take care of him? What about your parents?"

At this, your expression changes slightly. Your brows lower and your lips pout a bit, "They uh- died a few months ago…car accident."

Once again, Jack had shot himself in the foot.

"My apologies. Again." Jack murmurs as he finishes up the stitches, "I apparently can't help but put my foot in my mouth whenever I speak to you."

Your lips quirk at his admission, "You get nervous when you speak to me?"

Jack's eyes flicker up at you, his own lips falling into a small smile, "Are you teasing me?"

"More like flirting but I think I need to brush up on my skills." Your eyes never leave Jack's face.

Oh how Jack wanted to flirt back but you were young. Too young, he tried to rationalise. He was in his mid forties and you were in your early thirties at most. Both adults yes, but Jack tries to convince himself that the age gap is too large.

Jack will always deny it but you were certain you saw him flush. Red spread across the top of his cheeks before he tucked his head down in embarrassment. Jack finishes stitching and wrapping your hand in silence before he pulls away, telling you the next steps once you've left the hospital. Feeling guilty of putting him on the spot, you reach out to grab his wrist with you non-injured hand, pulling him to a stop,

"I'm sorry," You apologize, "If I overstepped or made you uncomfortable. It wasn't my intention, I promise." 

"No harm done, I assure you." Jack tries his hardest to appear unaffected, stepping away from you, "We're done here, the nurse will be back soon with your discharge papers."

"Actually," You reach back out to take hold of his arm and shyly look up at him,"If you have the time, can you keep an eye on him for a moment? I need the bathroom."

Jack considered it for a moment, he wasn't needed at the moment and all the nurses needed to do was call his name and he'll come running so he agreed, "Sure."

You squeeze his arm thankfully before you leave the room which catches Caspian's attention and he watches you leave with wide eyes. 

Jack turns to the young boy, "I enjoyed the chocolate you left me last time."

Caspian's eyes light up at Jack's word as he climbs down off of the chair before he climbs onto the bed so that he is closer to Jack. "I told her you liked 'em!"

Jack paused, the idea of reciprocating the chocolate gifting entering his head. 

"Hey kid," Jack focused back on Caspian, "What's your sister's favourite chocolate?"

Caspian's nose scrunched in disgust as he answered, "Bounty…gross!"

Jack's own nose scrunches in disgust at the answer, "...Yeah you're right about that kid."

Soon you return back to the room, the nurse not far behind you as they hand you the discharge paper for you to sign.

"Did you drive here? How are you getting home?" Jack asked, concern leaking through his words.

The nurse flashes him a curious look, a doctor did not usually concern themselves with how patients were getting home.

You peer up at him from where you were signing the papers, "No we taxied. We'll be fine won't we Cas?"

"Yep!" Caspian chirped.

Jack paused as if he wanted to say more before he eventually nodded, wishing them well before leaving. Jack immediately made his way to the vending machine and bought a Bounty chocolate bar and when he returned to the nurses station and pulled out a post-it note and a pen, he paused as he thought about what he should write before settling on, 

'Let's hope the next time I see you, it isn't in my ED. Enjoy. - Jack Abbot'

"You're not going to leave your number?" Teased Veronica over his shoulder.

In a moment of doubt, he asked her for advice, "It's not too much is it?"

"No! It has a good mix of flirting and you, Sergeant grumpy" Veronica assures, referencing the nickname he had garnered during his time at The Pitt.

Jack watches as the nurse guides you and your brother out of the ED and Veronica leans down to whisper in his ear, "You're running out of time."

Jack knows she is right so he quickly follows after you,  the chocolate bar held firmly in his hand as he searches for you in front of the hospital. 

"Hey," He calls your name, jogging up to you, holding out the chocolate bar towards you, "A little birdie helped me return the favour."

You looked down and smiled at the bounty chocolate bar in your hands, "My favourite! This little birdie of yours is very smart."

You grin down at Caspian who simply smiled tiredly, the late hour affecting him now.

Just then the taxi pulled up, and you placed the chocolate in your pocket as you focussed getting Caspian buckled inside but before you made your way into the cab, you smiled at him. A full sincere smile that leaves Jack breathless.

"Thank you Dr Abbot, for everything. You've made our hospital visits durable and Cas has really taken a liken to you. Really, thank you for everything" 

With that you wave at him before you climb into the cab which shortly pulls away leaving Jack alone in front of the hospital, kicking himself for not writing his phone number on the post-it.

Jack let out a dismayed sigh before returning back to the ED, regretting letting you leave without a number.  

[saintobio]

₊˚⊹♡ daddy doctor saves the day!

pairings. zayne/li shen, fem!reader

tags. 1.6k wc, dad!zayne, mom!mc, domestic fluff, slice of life, established relationship, brief mentions of pregnancy, zayne in scrubs *phew* bc need i say more. divider by anitalenia.

if zayne were ever to have kids, he’d have liked two.  

a girl and a boy. not because he believed in symmetry or balance, but because he imagined them leaning on each other the way siblings in picture books did—arms slung over shoulders, shared secrets in the dark, always knowing they weren’t alone. that’s what he’d wanted for them. companionship and safety.

and that day, in the quiet lull following a ten-hour triple bypass surgery, he was reminded of that wish.

you sat on the little couch tucked into the corner of his office, the one he’d insisted on keeping even when they offered to replace it with something more suitable for the chief cardiac surgeon. but that couch had warmth stitched into its seams, and it reminded him of home. the kids were curled up beside you, both fresh from school, still in their matching navy sweaters and slightly crooked socks. your daughter, older by two years, had her head resting in your lap, while your son perched at the edge of the cushion, his feet swinging above the floor.

“mommy,” he asked, his voice sticky with curiosity, “how does daddy fix hearts?”

you smiled, smoothing your daughter’s hair back from her forehead. “well,” you began, your tone soft and thoughtful, “he does surgery. that means he opens the chest to get to the heart.”

they both stiffened with the delighted kind of horror only young children could summon. “he cuts people open?” your daughter gasped, her eyes going round.

you solemnly nodded. “yes. he makes a careful cut. then he opens the chest so he can see the heart. it’s very delicate work.”

your son’s face crumpled in awe and fascination. “like a... like a treasure chest?”

“kind of,” you said, chuckling, “only instead of gold, there’s a heart inside.”

your daughter shuddered dramatically. “ew! that’s so creepy.”

zayne stood in the doorway then, unnoticed. still in his navy scrubs, cap tucked into his waistband, his hair a little messy from hours spent in the OR. he looked tired, shadows carved beneath his eyes, but his mouth tugged into a quiet smile. you didn’t see him yet, but he saw you—all three of you—and it filled something deep in his chest he hadn’t realized had gone hollow during the hours of cutting and stitching and praying beneath the surgical lights.

“do people die?” your son asked suddenly, looking up at you with wide, serious eyes.

“sometimes,” was your honest answer. “but daddy works really hard to make sure they don’t. he’s the best there is.”

“so he’s like a superhero,” your daughter concluded. “but for hearts.”

before you could respond, you heard the subtle shift of shoes on linoleum, and turned your head to see the man of the hour. leaning against the frame of the office door, arms crossed, tired but watching the three of you with a soft, fatherly smile. you just couldn’t ever get used to the way your heart raced at the sight of your husband. 

“you guys talking about me?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse from hours of breathing through a mask.

“daddy!” and of course, his kids squealed in unison, springing from the couch and bolting toward him. he caught them both easily, pulling them against his sides like puzzle pieces falling into place. his hands were still cool from scrubbing out, but they didn’t seem to notice. or maybe they didn’t care. they were too busy clambering over one another to tell him everything you’d just said.

“daddy! you cut people open!”

“you open their treasure chest!”

zayne laugh came out raspy, and you knew that meant exhaustion. but the joy in his eyes concealed the tiredness he carried. “is that what mom told you?”

“uh-huh! and then you look at their heart and fix it like legos!”

you raised your brows at him. “legos? that didn’t come from me.”

your husband shrugged, adjusting your daughter on his hip. “not technically wrong.”

“do you use glue?” your son asked seriously, squinting up at him.

“sometimes.” zayne knew it was best to play along. “we have special glue for blood vessels.”

your daughter gasped. “that’s so gross.”

“no, it’s awesome,” your son countered.

zayne set them down gently before walking toward you, his steps a little heavy from the long shift. he leaned down, kissed your cheek, and murmured, “thanks for covering the debrief.”

you smiled up at him. “they had questions.”

he sat beside you with a quiet groan, his leg pressing against yours. the kids climbed right back into the space between you, curling close like this was just another part of their daily routine. maybe it was.

“can we be heart doctors, too?” your son asked, tucking himself into zayne’s side.

“if you want to,” zayne replied, brushing a hand through his son’s hair. “but i think you’d be an amazing engineer.”

“what about me?” your daughter demanded equal attention.

he leaned in and tapped her nose. “you? i think you’d be a writer. or a lawyer. or maybe an astronaut.”

“what if i want to be a bunny farmer?”

zayne thought for a moment. “then i’ll build you a bunny hospital.”

you laughed, covering your mouth as the kids began to plan their future bunny farm, arguing over weather conditions and carrot rations. zayne didn’t say anything more. he just leaned back slightly, one hand resting on your knee, the other curled protectively behind your daughter’s back. he listened to their chatter, his eyes finding humor in their animated conversations. he was probably thinking, ‘they definitely got that from their mom’.

in retrospect, he had fixed countless hearts in his life, stitched vessels, replaced valves, saved lives. but this… this quiet, chaotic, precious moment? this was the one thing he’d gotten perfectly right.

although, you did want to admit that it was difficult to have a decent conversation with your husband while in the presence of your hyperactive kids. thankfully, it didn’t take long until you heard the soft tap of shoes on the hospital floor. the door creaked open, and in walked yvonne, the hospital’s nurse and receptionist, smiling fondly at your little family. 

“hey, kids,” yvonne said brightly, “how about you come with me? i’ve got something special for you.” she paused, then with a wink, added, “dr. greyson’s got some treats in the breakroom.”

the kids’ eyes lit up, and without another word, they scrambled off the couch, practically tripping over their own feet in their hurry to follow yvonne. they were already chattering excitedly as they followed her down the hall.

as soon as the door closed behind them, you relaxed back into the couch and exhaled deeply. zayne, still in his scrubs from his long surgery, scooted closer and pulled you by the waist. he looked tired, but there was a softness in his gaze that was just for his wife.

“well,” you said with a light chuckle, “it’s nice to finally get some privacy.”

zayne’s smile was tender. “don’t get used to it.”

you laughed. “honestly, though, i’m surprised i don’t get jealous of yvonne. she practically has the kids wrapped around her finger. and she takes good care of you here.”

only then did your husband’s smile falter for a second, a brief moment of amusement flashing across his features. “jealous?” he repeated. “you’re jealous of her?”

“i just said i’m not,” you clarified. “but… well, she’s charming. sweet. she always knows exactly what to say.”

“you,” zayne cut you off, “are everything to me. i don’t need anyone else.”

you knew you’d always been his number one, but you always felt reassured when he said the exact words you wanted to hear. it was enough. and it always worked this way through your years of marriage—a little hint of jealousy could easily be fixed by reassuring words.

whatever zayne said, you believed. there was a sense of solemnity in his words that you’d be a fool to doubt him. perhaps, it was why your kids get scared when their dad gives them a little scolding.

“speaking of work,” you said, shifting slightly, “how did the surgery go? i heard it was a long one.”

zayne sighed at the remembrance. “it went well,” he started, “the patient is stable, but her family... they couldn’t pay the full fees. they just didn’t have the money.”

you frowned, your heart aching at the thought. “but you’re not charging them?”

“i waived my professional fees. i asked the husband to reach out to the government for financial assistance. they’re eligible for some kind of medical relief.”

you blinked in surprise, touched by your husband’s gesture. “you did that?”

he shrugged, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “it’s what i would want if i were in their shoes. i was never after the money when i practiced my degree.”

“if it were me,” you thought out loud, “what would you have done? if i needed that kind of help... would you have helped me?”

zayne turned to you fully, his eyes softening with sincerity. “i’d do whatever it took,” he firmly answered. “even if you needed a transplant, i’d give you my heart without hesitation.”

it might sound like a silly thing, but his quiet declaration tugged gently at your heart. there was a kind of love in his eyes you couldn’t quite put into words. and somehow, you were the one lucky enough to receive it. 

he’d fixed countless hearts in the OR, but you knew, in this moment, that the heart he valued most was the one beating inside you.

maybe that’s why now felt like the perfect time to bring up what had been weighing on your mind all day. the very reason you’d driven straight to the hospital after work.

“well, as it turns out,” you brought up, shifting slightly, “i’m not pregnant. i got my period today.”

zayne let out a soft chuckle. “well, two kids are enough for now, don’t you think?”

you pouted, feigning disappointment. “but i want one more.”

he grinned and kissed your forehead. “you can try again next month. i’m sure we’ll make a whole team of little heart doctors.”

[ipushhimback]

we were drunk, it happens - pt. 4

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

pairing: lando norris x verstappen!reader warnings: pregnancy words: 1.4k

summary: lando tells yn he loves her after finding out she is pregnant

She wanted to cry. Y/N didn’t want to tell Lando about it. Not yet. She was only around 6 weeks along. Why did he have to find out now? Why didn’t Max close the door? Why wasn’t she more careful? What was she even doing here?

“Just leave, Lando!”, Y/N shouted and wanted to take it back as soon as she saw Lando wince. She pulled knees to her chest and buried her face in the fabric of her dress.

It was such a huge mistake to come to this Grand Prix. Everything went wrong in her life. She hated it.

Max stepped forward to hug his sister.

“It is alright, little one. Everything is going to be ok. Believe me. Just breathe. See, Lando isn’t yelling at you. He isn’t mad. Right, Lando?”, he said glaring at the younger man.

“No! No. Y/N. Why did you think I would be mad? You’re pregnant, right? That should make you happy. It is a baby. A little you. So don’t be scared, please.” Oh, he was so scared. He wanted to scream and wanted to throw himself out of the non-existent window. A baby? A little human? How would he take care of them?

“But. You are so busy and always travelling and we are so young. I am 22! You are not much older! How would we do that”, Y/N sobbed and was embarrassed for being this emotional. Damn hormones.

“Hey. It will all work. It is ok. We are going to be ok. We will have a baby. That’s great!”

Y/N used the back of her hand to wipe away the tears on her face.

“You really aren’t mad?”, she asked, still not really believing Lando.

“No. I really am not. I am happy. I didn’t exactly plan for any of this to happen, but it is nice. Maybe you could come over next week and we could just… talk about it? Maybe it’ll make you feel better? Were you already at the doctors to get the baby checked?”

Y/N shook her head.

“Not, yet. But I have an appointment next week. Then I will find out if the baby’s ok.”

Lando nodded and smiled so Y/N finally allowed herself to calm down. He really wasn’t mad at her for being pregnant. He looked happy.

***

“Max! You don’t understand! I got Verstappen’s sister pregnant!” Lando stared at his friend, Max Fewtrell, in front of him. “This is terrible. We were finally getting along again after he… you know… realized we did it… and now his sister is pregnant because of me!”

“I get it Lando. But you can’t do anything. It is how it is. Didn’t you say you were happy about it? You told her you were. Did you lie?” Max hissed. “Bro you cannot lie to a pregnant woman. Furthermore, you told me you like her so where is the problem?”

“Yes, but we said no feelings! So, I cannot tell her that I have liked her this whole time! But she also shouldn’t be handling the pregnancy alone! Max!”, Lando whined. “I don’t know what to do.” The brunette flopped on the couch.

He forced himself to take a deep breath. He definitely had done something wrong in his life. Why didn’t he use a condom? Why…

“Stop beating yourself up, Lando”, Max said. “This is something great. You will have a baby! And you love kids. But maybe you shouldn’t ask yourself if you want to have a baby. If you want to have Y/N as your girlfriend. You should ask yourself if you want to be a dad and a boyfriend.”

“Oh, shut up. Why are you always saying some smart shit.”

“I don’t just say smart shit, I am smart. As the older one of us I have to help you and give you advice for life.”

“You are literally 3 and a half months older… that’s nothing… Max, I really fucked up this time.” Lando buries his face in his hands and sighed. “I want to be a dad. Really. But not yet? I am not ready for this. I am practically a kid myself! I cannot take care of a literal baby.”

“Well, either that or you tell Y/N you don’t want to have a baby and risk her hating you. Your choice, Lando. But don’t decide now. Wait until you know the baby is healthy. Talk to her about your concerns. Think about it. Promise me that, Lando.” Max looked at his friend.

“I will, I promise.”

***

Only an hour later Lando was standing in front of Y/N’s door. He really wanted to wait until next week but just couldn’t. He had to talk to her.

He knocked and only a couple seconds later the door opened, and Y/N was standing in front of him.

“Lando? What are you doing here? It is literally midnight!”

“I am sorry. But I had to talk to you because I talked to Max. Not you brother Max the other Max. My Max. And I want to be there for the baby. And I have feelings for you and I was so scared of telling you because I know we said no feelings involved but they are involved and I wanna be there for you and the baby when it is born and I know I shouldn’t be here at midnight telling you all that because I am probably just sleep deprived or so but. I love you, Y/N.” As soon as he finished talking, Lando took a deep breath and held it, waiting for Y/N to say something.

“That… was a lot”, Y/N finally said. “But I like you too, Lando. From the first time I saw you with those ridiculously good-looking curls and those blue eyes. I would love if you were involved in mine and the baby’s life.”

Lando just stared at Y/N and couldn’t really believe it yet.

“You… you like me too?”, he asked. He would have though Y/N would call him crazy and that she would say she didn’t like him at all, but he definitely didn’t expect this here to happen.

“I do. And you are an idiot if you haven’t noticed it yet.” Y/N said and smiled a little.

“Oh.”

“So… I have the doctor’s appointment tomorrow. Do you want to come with me? Just making sure the baby is ok. I could use someone to talk to in the waiting room.”

Lando nodded. In that moment he was sure he was the happiest person on earth.

“Do you… no forget it”, Y/N started.

“Do I what? Tell me! You can’t start a sentence like that and then keep me hanging. Tell me!”

Y/N took a deep breath.

“Doyouwannastayherewithme.” Lando stared at her as if she was crazy. What the fuck did she just say? That was too fast for his brain at midnight.

“Huh?”

“Do you want to stay here? With me?”

Lando grinned and nodded.

“Yes! Of course. If it is really ok with you.?”

***

The next morning, Y/N woke up with Lando’s arm around her waist. It was warm and she couldn’t help but notice how different it was to wake up next to him, knowing they didn’t fuck last night.

“Morning”, she mumbled sleepily. “We have to get up to go to the appointment.”

The man next to her just groaned.

“Too early.”

“No, sleepyhead. It is already 11 am. Get up.”

Eventually Lando got up and went to the bathroom and only an hour later they were at the doctor’s office.

The doctor was very nice, and Y/N could swear that the nurse recognized Lando but didn’t say anything.

“So, let’s take a look at the baby”, the doctor said as she poured some gel for the ultrasound on Y/N’s abdomen. She placed the probe on it and looked at the monitor.

Then she moved the monitor so Y/N and Lando could both look at it. She pointed on a few grey, black and white areas to explain some stuff.

“And here we see Baby A”, she pointed to another grey blotch. “And there we have Baby B. Both perfectly healthy.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped.

“Twins…?”

The doctor nodded.

“Yes, you two will have twins. Congratulations!”

A/N: yes i did just post that on the wrong acc… but here we go sorry it took so long to write this! if you wanna be added or removed from the taglist pls tell me bc i don’t know who only wanted to be tagged for this series and who for all the other stuff i will write as well so you will be tagged for everything i will write (sorry i am too chaotic for this world)

taglist:

@strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @I-vroom4 / @comicalivy / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss

[hauntedfawnn]

⟡ Honey, Lemons, And Apple Pie ⟡

(Alpha!Doctor!Steve Harrington x Omega!Fem!Reader x Rockstar!Alpha!Eddie Munson)

You’ve always known in your heart and soul that you are destined to be an omega, scent matched to your bestfriend, Eddie Munson. No matter how hard you try, you can’t shake that feeling. Even Eddie gave up on you. Even if you are almost 30 and still haven’t presented. But when you meet a sexy, goofy doctor, things change drastically. And fast. It doesn’t help that your past is coming back to haunt you.

Warnings: Angst between Eddie and reader(but he makes up for it I swear and Steve is there being sweet and perfect to soothe the burn), best friends to lovers, alpha!Eddie Munson, Alpha!Steve Harrington, Omega!Fem!Reader, mentions of Reader being in therapy in the past and it’s implied that she has shitty parents, soo much flirty banter, pet names, typical omegaverse behaviors, knotting, scenting, marking, heats, rough unprotected sex, minor Steddie, one mention of blood, spanking, choking, pussy eating, hair pulling, face fucking, Eiffel Tower, cum eating happy ending! WK: 17k💀 18+MDNI!

You’ve made a nice life for yourself. You have a good job at a social media advertising company and you were able to save up enough to buy yourself a small two bedroom house. You have your cat, mochi, and your best friend, Lina. Who's also your personal assistant. You have lunch together every weekday and brunch on Sundays. Your life isn’t boring, per say, it’s comfortable. But no matter what you do to try and make yourself happy and secure you always feel like something is missing. What makes it even worse? Is that you know exactly what that void inside of you is and you have no idea how to fix it. 

Ever since you were old enough to understand what secondary genders were, you knew you were an omega. Everything in your body and soul told you so. But you’re almost thirty years old and you’ve still yet to present. You thought at first maybe you were just a late bloomer, trying anything and everything the doctors suggested to get your omega to come out. Not only did you not want to disappoint your mother who always assumed you’d be an omega because she is. You also knew for a fact in your heart of hearts that your best friend was meant to be your alpha. 

Eddie Munson. He presented when you were both sixteen and you both always assumed you’d follow short after him. You’d never fully crossed the line between friends but you fantasized about and planned your life together, banking on the fact that you’d be each other’s mates. But by the time you were twenty things started to look grim for you. 

Eddie had finally graduated and planned on moving to Chicago with the Corroded Coffin guys. A manager there offered them a shot and there was no way they weren’t going to take it, even if they failed. You weren’t quite ready to leave Hawkins yet, you wanted to stay until your little sister graduated since your parents hardly paid her any attention. It was only two years, you could save up and then go be with Eddie. You’d have to present by then. You just knew it. 

But your sister's graduation came and went and you were still just a beta. Eddie and the guys blew up fast. He was on his first headlining world tour following the release of their second album. But he still video called you once a week and texted you all the time. He still seemed like he had hope that you’d be together one day. That’s why when out of nowhere, on a random Tuesday in mid August, he called you to tell you he had found his scent match you were completely blind sided. 

You didn’t understand how that could be possible when you were Eddie’s scent match. You knew it in your heart and soul. An omega having more than one alpha scent matches is rare, but an alpha having two omega scent matches is essentially unheard of. You felt like your whole world fell apart that day. Suddenly the words of every doctor, every specialist, every peer and even your parents came crashing down on you. Maybe you really weren’t an omega. Maybe it was all in your head. You really questioned your sanity after that. You had a full mental breakdown. It took a lot of therapy, basically brainwashing you into believing what your body was telling you is a lie. Even if you never fully believed it. 

Eventually you were able to get to a point where those feelings of anguish were bearable. You pulled yourself out of that dark abyss and got a job at the local diner so you could save up and still move to the city. Not for Eddie, for yourself. It took years to get yourself to this point where you were comfortable with your life as a beta. A whole decade to be exact. But there is still that little piece inside of you that knows that isn’t true. In your heart you still know that you are an omega. Even if you are almost thirty and still haven’t presented yet. You just need to find out why. 

Although you’ve worked so hard to achieve the life you have now, a big drive for you has always been being able to afford to go and get a full genome mapping done. To see if maybe, just maybe, there really is a reason you haven’t presented yet. And now, you finally can.

You take in a shaky breath as you look up at the sign on top of the large white building in front of you that reads “Omega Specialist and Treatment Center”. Today is the day that will make or break the never ending war waging inside of you. That gnawing feeling that something is just wrong or trapped. If they don’t find anything, you’ll finally accept yourself for what everyone’s always said you are. A beta. But if they do find something? You might be validated for the first time in your life. 

And it’s worth the risk. 

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑.

Your nurse is a nice, bright blue haired, beta woman who takes your vitals with a smile. She draws your blood with ease before kindly telling you that “Dr. Harrington” will be in shortly with your test results. You busy yourself by fidgeting and aimlessly scrolling on your phone. You aren’t even really processing what you’re looking at, your thumbs just idly tapping on your screen as your eyes glaze over. You’re so anxious you feel like you’re going to burst out of your skin. 

There’s a soft knock on the door before it pushes open and a whole different type of nerves roll through you. A man who you assume is your doctor walks into the room and he just might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Besides Eddie. You internalize a frustrated sigh at the thought. No matter what you do, you feel like you’ll never fully escape him. But that doesn’t take away from how absolutely gorgeous this man is. 

His perfectly styled, chestnut hair looks silky to the touch and his face is almost unreal. He has soft hazel eyes that instantly make you feel at ease. The pointed slope of his nose causes you have to stop your mind from going somewhere dirty and so do those plush lips, outlined in a thin layer of stubble. Like he hasn’t shaved in a few days. A sharp jaw that looks perfect for kissing and nipping on your way to the side of his neck that looks like it was made for shoving your nose in so you can inhale his scent. 

Which strangely enough, when this alpha walks into the room your senses are flooded with the smell of fresh laundry. There’s a hint of lemon and something sweet, like whipped cream. You’ve never had the ability to scent anyone before though, so he must just have a really nice cologne. 

“Hello, I’m Dr. Steve Harrington and I'm going to be going over your lab results with you today.” He smiles at you kindly before sitting on the round rolling chair across from you. “So, you are almost thirty years old and haven’t presented yet.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to stop as it sinks into your stomach and you prepare yourself for the worst. Again. “Give it to me straight, doc.”

“Well, although you haven’t presented, your genes are almost entirely omega.” Your heart subtly beats again and you feel it start to rise back into your chest ever so slightly. “There’s just one gene that’s off, and it’s very rare but I think it may be the reason you have yet to present.”

“You’re still beating around the bush, Dr. Harrington.” You glare at him but there’s no malice behind it and it makes the corner of Steve’s lips tilt up. You’re his patient so he absolutely shouldn’t think so, but, you’re cute. And something about you feels comforting to him. Like he’s known you all his life. Even though he’s never seen you until less than five minutes ago. 

“Sorry.” He chuckles awkwardly but it’s endearing. “As I was saying, this gene typically only shows up when an omega has met their scent match and their alpha either rejectes them or left their life in some way.” 

“Oh…” Your heart sinks so far back down into your stomach you feel like it’s going to fall out of your ass. That or explode out of your intestines from how fast it’s beating. Your hands shake and tears well up in your eyes before silently spilling down your cheeks as you stare at the doctor, speechless. 

“I’m so sorry if I said something to upset you!” Steve immediately feels panicked, like he’d do anything to get you to stop crying and destroy anyone in the world that’s ever caused you any kind of pain. But all he can manage is awkwardly fumbling for the tissues in his desk and holding them out to you. 

“It’s just- let me make sure I have this right.” You take a wobbly deep breath. “You’re saying that I am an omega. But, I haven’t presented because my scent match rejected me?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying, miss.” Steve’s eyes widen at the way you growl and slam your hand down on the paper covering the little plastic bed you’re sitting on. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” You let out a dry laugh that completely contradicts the ocean of tears that flow from your eyes. You’re feeling so many emotions at once that it’s making your entire nervous system confused. 

'No, I uh - I’m deadly serious.” Steve isn’t exactly sure what to do or say but apparently his body does. He doesn’t realize he released an extra puff of pheromones until he sees the way your nostrils flare before your shoulders relax. Your tears don’t stop though. “Are you okay?”

“No? Yes? I don’t fucking know!” You throw your head back and groan. “It’s just, for the last decade I’ve been called a delusional beta, put in intensive therapy, and been laughed at.” 

You scoff out a dry laugh as you shake your head in disbelief. “And now you’re telling me, that after all this time, I was fucking right? Which I’m stoked about, don’t get me wrong. But you’re also telling me the entire reason I’m broken is because I was abandoned and that’s just- It’s just a lot to process, doc.”

“Abandoned?” A growl rumbles deep in Steve’s chest as he rises to his feet and takes a few steps toward you. He doesn’t even realize his actions until he sees the way your eyes widen and a faint smell of honey and chai tea hits his nose.  “Forgive me, I don’t know what came over me. That was extremely unprofessional.”

“It’s - it’s alright, no worries.” You squeak out. Your insides heat at his actions, adding a whole new level of confusion to your emotions. There’s just something about him that you can’t quite put your finger on, something akin to the first time the warm spring sun hits your face after a long winter. You want to drink it in and drown in it. “Is there… Anything I can do to fix it?”

“Other than being around your scent match? I’m not sure, if I’m being honest.” Steve rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he stands only about a foot away from you. But he can’t seem to get himself to back up. It’s like he’s cemented in place and the only way he can physically move is toward you. “There haven't been many studies on this gene in which an omega presents without the help of their fated alpha. The only exception being if they have more than one scent match and that alpha happens to come into their life, which is extremely rare. Otherwise they can go their entire life without presenting.” 

Your head hangs down between your shoulders as a sob wracks through you, tears dripping down onto your bare thighs where your pencil skirt from work rides up. Steve feels awful, the fact that you’re upset is really getting to him. He has to physically stop himself from taking you into his arms. “I won’t give up on you though. I’ll do some research on this gene and see what I can come up with, maybe there’s some type of loop hole.” 

That makes your head shoot up, tears still streaming down your face, smudging your pretty makeup. But there’s the tiniest bit of hope in your eyes and Steve feels like he will do anything to keep it there. He closes the distance between you and rests a strong hand on your shoulder while leaning down so he can fix you in a warm, hazel gaze. “We will figure this out, omega.” 

You’re taken back the title and it has another wave of tears streaming down your face. 

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry! What did I say now?!” Steve’s hand on your shoulder runs down your arm, caressing you gently. The fact that he’s upset sends off alarm bells in your head and you immediately feel the need to soothe him. 

“It’s nothing bad! I mean, it is, but it isn’t.” Your hand subconsciously rests on top of his as you're flooded with his warm, clean, scent and it makes your head feel a little clearer. You at least have somewhat liner thoughts for the moment. Steve makes you feel grounded for a reason you can’t seem to put your finger on. 

“No one has ever believed me. I have always known deep in my heart and soul that I am an omega and you’re the first person in my entire life to acknowledge me as such. Thank you, Dr. Harrington.” 

“I- Of course, miss, I’m just doing my job.” Steve offers you a lopsided smile even though he’s screaming on the inside. He didn’t even realize he called you by your designation title. You’re making his instinics go haywire and he needs to get away from you before he does something truly stupid. You pull your hand off his and he misses your touch immediately. He pats your arm awkwardly before turning around to grab your paperwork. “Here are your test results, my card is attached if you have any questions. I’ll do some research on my end and be in touch.”

You take the outstretched papers and smile sweetly at the kind, sexy doctor, the one who finally listened to you and confirmed every doubt you’ve ever had about yourself. “Thanks, Doc, really. I can’t put into words how much this means to me.”

“Like I said, just doing my job.” He returns your smile with a thousand wat one that makes you swoon. “Have a good day, Omega.”

“OH! I - um - Thank you, Alpha…” Steve turns and leaves after that and you can’t shake the feeling that he’s taking a piece of you with him. 

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑.

You decide you deserve your favorite take out and a comfort movie after the emotional rollercoaster that was that doctor’s appointment so you stop at your favorite Chinese spot on your way home. You ordered your food and you’re waiting at one of the booths but it’s so hot in here you feel like you’re suffocating. It’s a rainy February day but it feels like their AC is broken in the middle of summer. Your work shirt feels like it’s constricting your body and your vision feels hazy. 

It also smells horrible in here. It’s like you can smell every individual dish they’re cooking in the kitchen and the scent of the three alphas and two omegas in the restaurant blend together to make one sickly sweet, musky mess. If you didn’t already pay, you would get up and leave. 

But they finally call your name and you get up on shaky legs and make your way to the counter. Your body feels like it’s being weighed down by bags of sand and your ears feel like they’re underwater. Your muscles suddenly ache like you just worked out for two hours straight and your mind is so cloudy you can hardly think straight. 

You grab your food and right as you turn to leave the door swings open, bringing a scent that is like a saviour among the fragrances flooding the room with it. It’s the scent of a warm apple pie with a cinnamon glaze. One that someone’s cooking on a rainy fall day with the windows open. It reminds you of being at your grandmother’s house on Thanksgiving as a child. One of the few places you’ve ever truly felt at home. Home. It smells like home. 

It’s then you realize who the scent is being carried by. A man you haven’t seen in person in ten years but you’ve watched from afar through social media and his very public music career. Eddie Munson.

He’s even more beautiful than any camera could’ve ever captured. His curly brown locks brush against the leather jacket that’s taunt against his thick arms. His big, chocolate eyes hold so much emotion you aren’t even sure you could begin to unpack it. His cute button nose you used to always poke and give innocent kisses growing up has a million memories flashing through your mind at once. It’s the same as it always was, just a little bigger and he has a nose piercing now. His lips are as plump as ever and you want to bury your face in his thick, tattooed neck and inhale his apple crisp scent. 

Eddie says your name and suddenly you’re so dizzy you feel like the room is on an axis and you aren’t sure why the floor is coming towards you. Your heart is beating so fast you can hear it pulsing in your ears and your eyes start to roll into the back of your head. Then your mind goes blank. 

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑.

Your nose is filled with the most relaxing aroma. It’s like sitting on a freshly mowed lawn after spring cleaning. The windows are open so you can smell the fresh load of laundry in the dryer wafting out while you have an ice cold glass of lemonade. But when you open your eyes you realize you’re very much not outside. 

The fluorescent lights above you are nearly blinding and the medical posters on the wall tell you that you’re in a hospital bed. But not only does it not smell even the slightest bit like a hospital, the bed beneath you is warm and breathing. It takes a second for you to feel like you can move but when you’re finally able to tilt your head up you couldn’t be more surprised. 

“Dr. Harrington?” Your eyes blow wide as they meet soft hazel ones and as you look down and take in more of your surroundings you realize you’re laying nearly entirely on top of him in a tiny hospital bed. “Why am I here? What are you doing here? Why am I laying on top of you?”

“Hey, hey, calm down.” Steve’s strong hand runs down your back and that fresh, clean scent thickens in the room, instantly relaxing you. “You presented. You fainted and when they brought you here they found my card on you and assumed I was your doctor so they called me… But when I got here I smelled you and…”

That’s when it clicks in your mind. Steve’s scent. He’s your scent match. You feel that same at home, bone warming, feeling you felt when you scented Eddie earlier and that’s when it all really starts coming back to you. 

The doctor's appointment. Stopping to get food. Running into Eddie. 

“You’re my scent match.” You can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face despite the events that got you here. You presented and this handsome, slightly goofy doctor is your scent match. “That still doesn’t explain why I’m laying on top of you though…” You giggle.

“You were whimpering in your sleep and your scent was filled with distress…” Steve sighs as he brings his hand up to smooth your hair. “Instincts kind of took over and I felt this overwhelming need to be close to you. I’m really sorry if that’s weird or invasive, I just-”

“Steve.” The sound of you calling him by his name for the first time is like music to his ears. “It’s okay, I’m glad you’re here. I’m feeling sort of… strange. Kind of like I want to cry tears of joy and sorrow simultaneously. If that makes sense.”

“It does.” Steve cups your jaw and rubs his thumb along your cheek. You nuzzle into it and he feels like he could melt. “You’re basically going through puberty again at thirty. Not only that, but you've had a lot of big changes today. It’s only natural that you’re feeling emotionally overwhelmed.” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I woke up this morning not knowing if I’d ever present and now not only have I presented but I have two scent matches… It’s a lot to process.” You sigh and subconsciously shove your nose into his chest, inhaling his scent. 

“Speaking of that… Your other alpha is here…” You tense in his arms again and Steve lets out a puff of pheromones to try and calm you. 

“He’s not my alpha.” You growl. “I don’t want him anywhere fucking near me.” 

“It’s okay, honey.” Steve grabs onto your wrist, bringing it up so he can run his nose along it, the smell of chai tea and honey filling his nose. Your scent is much stronger than it was just a few short hours ago. 

“He’s in the lobby losing it because they won’t let him see you. He keeps telling them you’re his omega but there’s no documentation of you being mates and you aren’t marked. They can’t just let any alpha back to see an unmated omega. Honestly once they see me in your bed I’m worried they might kick me out too.” 

“I won’t let them.” You let out another little growl that Steve can’t help but think is adorable. “This might sound crazy but the thought of being away from you right now sounds like actual torture.”

“It doesn’t sound crazy, we might have just met but we were meant for each other. It’s normal for us to feel an instant attachment to each other. Being away from you sounds like torture too. I feel this overwhelming need to protect you.” Steve runs his nose along your wrist again and it sends shivers down your spine.

“You smell so fucking good by the way. Like chai tea and honey.” Steve chuckles gently. “Which is funny because I’m not a coffee person. I drink tea in the morning and at night. It soothes me and so does your presence. It’s fitting.” 

“You smell so good too, doc.” Steve chuckles at the nickname. He might be goofy but as far as he can tell so are you and he already loves that about you. “You smell like fresh laundry, warm spring days, and perfectly sweetened lemonade.”

“Dr. Harrington, that is hardly appropriate! Get off that patient right now!” You and Steve are broken from your little bubble when your nurse comes in with an alarmed look on her face. You’re sure this looks bad, an unmated alpha in the hospital bed of an unconscious, umated omega. 

“No.” You grip tightly onto Steve’s chest and wrap your leg tighter around his waist. Your body heats and you suddenly start to feel the same way you did in the chinese restaurant. You want to tear off all of Steve’s clothes and ride him like your life depends on it right in front of this nurse. “He’s mine.” 

“It’s okay, I’m her scent match.” The nurse furrows her brows as if she’s assessing the situation.

“Why are you written down as her provider then? And why wouldn’t you mention that when you got here?” You know rationally that this nurse is just doing her job to protect you but that part of your brain that is starting to feel clouded wants to tear her eyes out because why is she so concerned about what your alpha is doing, does she want him for herself?

“It’s a long story, but the short version is that we didn’t know until I got here. She has a condition that made it so she didn’t present until now so she’s having heat spikes, which is what’s happening right now. But I swear on my medical license there’s nothing weird going on.”

“It’s the truth, he’s mine.” You muster up enough rationality to know you need to defend your alpha but it’s really hard to think about much other than his knot being buried deep inside you. 

“Alright, well, in that case you can’t be her physician. But all of her tests came back normal so I’ll send in another doctor with her release forms and get you guys out of here as soon as possible.” The nurse scribbles something down on her clipboard before exiting the room. 

“Don’t leave me.” You whine as you squeeze onto Steve and shove your face into his neck. You vaguely processed him saying something about heat spikes but you’re struggling to focus. You just know you can’t be away from him. “Come home with me. Need you.” 

“I can do that, honey.” Steve caresses your back and politely ignores the way you’re subconsciously grinding down on his leg. Even if it does make his cock twitch in his pants. “I need to go by my place and get some stuff and then we can go to your house, how’s that sound?”

“Mhm, yes. I just wanna be near you.”

“Me too, sweet girl.” Steve sighs contentedly. “Do you want to sneak out the employee entrance so Eddie doesn’t see you?”

That snaps you back to reality right quick and you feel a rush of embarrassment over your behavior over the last few minutes. You can’t see Eddie like this. You aren’t even sure if you want to see him ever, despite the fact that your body is screaming to be near him. You won’t cave that easily. Not after everything. He only wants you because you’re an omega now. He abandoned you. He lied to you. 

“Yes, please.” You whine and you want to slap yourself. God you’re a mess. “I’m sorry for-”

“Shhh, stop apologizing. Being an omega is going to take some getting used to, don’t be embarrassed. I’m here for you all the way.” Steve gives you that sweet, warm smile as he perfumes for you and you can’t help but swoon. “Let’s get you out of here and then we will figure the rest out together, yeah, omega?”

“Yeah.” You sigh dreamily. “That sounds good, alpha.”

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑.

You’ve been living with Steve for two months now. After the first night he stayed with you, you asked if he would stay for a while. And a week later you asked him to just move in. Your place was bigger and nicer than his so he had no issue giving it up. He brought his clothes, his extensive mug collection, and three full bookcases that now line the living room wall. It always felt like there was something missing there. He also brought his fat orange cat, Puff. 

Being with Steve is as easy as breathing. There was no awkward phase, just a getting to know you phase. You wanted to know everything about each other. From your favorite colors to your mom’s middle names. 

On days you both work, you get home around the same time and immediately get in comfy clothes. You cook together or order take out before curling up on the couch together. You watch each other's favorite movies, chat for hours, sit next to each other while you read. You’re even binging old Jersey Shore episodes together right now. You drink tea together and he cuddles up with you in your bed every night. But he still hasn’t fucked you. 

There’s been lots of kissing and several make out sessions with heavy petting, especially when your heat spikes hit. But it hasn’t gone further than that. And you can’t help but feel like maybe it has something to do with you. Maybe he isn’t attracted to you physically, just your scent. And now he’s stuck with you. You want him so badly though. Especially since your first real heat is coming in the next few weeks or so. You want to be sentient the first time Steve fucks you. 

You got off a little early today so you came home and took an everything shower, fixed your hair, and put on your sluttiest pajamas that could almost be lingerie. It’s a little pink silk tank top and shorts set with lace bordering. 

Steve got home about an hour ago and he’s now in the kitchen, prepping dinner. In nothing but a pair of fucking grey sweatpants. They’re hanging low on his hips and there’s the tiniest bit of bush poking out of the top. It leads up to his happy trail and all the way up to his delicious chest hair. You swear this man is actually trying to drive you insane. You walk up to him and lace your arms around his waist. He smells so good you can’t help but nuzzle into the skin on his mole covered back and inhale his scent. You place a gentle kiss on his back and follow it with another. And then another. 

“Hey beautiful.” You can hear the smile in Steve’s voice and his hand comes up to caress your arm that’s tucked around his waist. You continue your trail of kisses, letting them get gradually wetter and more open mouthed as you go. You’re trying to kiss every single mole on his back and connect them with your lips to form your own brand new constellation. You run your hands up his chest and back down as you press your body tighter against his back. “Mmm, that feels nice.”

“I missed you Stevie.” Steve twirls around in your arms and takes your face in his hands, giving you that smile that makes your insides melt. He leans down to kiss you gently but you lace your hands in his hair to pull his mouth against yours more roughly. You run your tongue along his bottom lip and he immediately grants you access, swirling his tongue with your own. You moan into the kiss and Steve grips onto your hips, pulling your body flush against his. 

“I missed you too, honey, so bad.” Steve’s voice is breathless from your kisses and he leans down to shove his nose into your neck so he can scent you. You feel his cock start to harden against your stomach and you can’t help but grind against him. Steve groans before pulling back so he can look at you. “Let me cook for you.”

“Steve. Do you not want me?” You hate how vulnerable you sound but you’re tired of walking around not knowing. If he’s not attracted to you you’d rather find out now rather than later. 

“What?” Steve gasps and his eyes blow wide. “Why would you even think that? Of course I want you, baby. I want you so bad it hurts.”

“Then why won’t you fuck me?” You can’t help but pout. 

“Honey.” Steve runs his thumbs along your cheeks. “I just don’t want to rush you. I don’t want you to think I’m some meat headed alpha who feels entitled to sex because we are scent matches.”

“That’s really sweet and all, and I’m really glad that you respect me but I really need you to start disrespecting me before I go fucking crazy, Steve. I need you to fuck me before my first heat. I wanna be fully here for it.” You rub your stomach against his now fully hard cock and run your manicured nails down his back to prove your point. 

“I’m also nervous, if I’m being honest. I know once I cross that line with you I’m going to lose control and I don’t want to scare you off…” 

“Scare me off… how?” You raise a brow at him. You don’t know what he could possibly do to scare you off. 

“With my um - sexual preferences.” Steve clears his throat awkwardly as he looks anywhere but you. 

“So let me get this straight, doc.” Steve can’t help but smile at the little nickname you’ve given him. Your comforting scent fills the room causing his shoulders to relax.

 “You’re telling me that I not only scored an alpha who’s hot as hell, a doctor, you’re goofy, smart and you’re a freak in bed? I think I scored the alpha fucking jackpot.” 

“Are you sure?” Steve bites his lip as he looks down at you nervously. “I know I seem like kind of a boring guy but when it comes to sex…”

“Steve.” You giggle. “I want you to fucking tear me to pieces and fuck me like a rag doll.” 

“Yeah?” Steve smiles down at you like you just told him he won the lottery. 

“Yeah, silly.” You press up on your tiptoes so you can run your nose along his scent gland. “Why would the universe destine us to be together and not make us sexually compatible?”

“That’s good.” Steve laces his fingers through your hair and yanks your head back so you’re looking at him. “Because I’m about to fucking ruin you, baby.”

“Do your worst, Dr. Harrington.” You giggle and smile at him mischievously. 

“Oh, now you’re just asking for it.” Steve chuckles as he uses his grip on your hair to spin you around so you’re bent over the counter. Steve leans over you, covering your body with his firm, strong form. He runs his nose along your scent gland possessively before brushing the shell of your ear with his lips. 

“I don’t know how you could ever think I don’t want you. You smell so fucking good and then I come home to you wearing this? God, you’re so fucking sexy.” 

“Mmm, thank you, Stevie.” You hum as you wiggle beneath him, grinding your ass back on his hard cock. Steve inhales your scent again and licks along the column of your throat before leaning back. He runs his hands down your body, letting the silky material of your pajamas caress his skin. He suddenly pulls his hand back and lands a harsh smack on your ass causing you to moan loudly as you jolt forward. 

“I love this perfect ass. You’re so perfect for me.” Steve admires the way your back looks arched over the counter, the way that silk hugs your curves perfectly. 

Steve spanks you again and is nearly hypnotized by the way your ass bounces in retaliation. He gives the other cheek the same treatment before taking the globes of your ass into his big hands and kneads it. He spreads you open and not only can he smell the rush of slick that drips from your pussy, he sees it wet that pink silk right before his eyes. A wave of your lust filled pheromones hit his nose and that’s when instinct truly takes over. Steve’s grip on your satin shorts tightens until they rip at the middle seam. The torn material falls down your legs and you aren’t wearing panties so it leaves you completely bare for him with your slick, glistening cunt on display. 

“Steve! These are my favorite jammies!” You gasp.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’ll buy you new ones.” Steve gets down on his knees behind you and grips onto the backs of your thighs, pulling you open. Slick drips out of your pussy and onto the floor and he can’t help but growl at the fact that it’s going to waste. “But right now I’ve gotta fucking taste you.”

He shoves his face between your legs, running his nose along your wet slit, groaning as he inhales your honey-sweet scent.

Steve flattens his tongue, licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit. He sucks it into his mouth before bringing his tongue back down to swirl it around your entrance. He shoves his tongue deep inside of you and flicks it against your walls, practically scooping up your wetness. 

“Oh my god, Steve.” You moan loudly as your back arches further and it shoves Steve’s face deeper into your pussy. 

Steve feels like he’s going to go insane. He’s drunk on your pretty moans and your sweet taste. He could eat your pussy until your legs gave out if his cock didn’t feel like it was going to explode. He needs you to cum on his face first though. His lips wrap around your pulsing clit as he circles two thick fingers around your entrance before pushing them knuckle deep inside you. 

“Fuck, that’s so good, you’re gonna make me cum.” Steve curls his fingers against your sweet spot while he circles his tongue around your clit and it has pleasure wracking through your entire body. If you weren’t bent over the counter you’d probably fall on your ass from how bad your legs shake. Steve pulls his fingers from inside you and sucks them into his mouth before licking up the slick that is dripping from your pussy.

“You taste so fucking sweet, just as good as you smell.” Steve mumbles against your skin as he peppers messy kisses on your thighs. He kisses your ass before sinking his teeth into it, not enough to break the skin, but enough to sting deliciously. Steve stands up behind you and pushes his sweats down his hips before kicking them off. He takes his thick, hard cock into his hand and runs his tip through your slick. 

“Please Alpha.” You wiggle your ass against him and Steve lines up with your entrance before thrusting balls deep inside you and you both moan in unison at the stretch. He doesn’t give you time to adjust before he’s brutally thrusting into you. Steve grabs onto one of your hands and pulls it behind your back and the other comes up to press your head into the side of the cool marble countertop. 

“I’ll never make you beg, baby girl.” Steve uses his grip on your hand and your for leverage as he pounds into you. “Unless you act like a fucking brat, then maybe I’ll make you beg for mercy.” 

“Fuck, I guess I’ll make a note to get on your nerves sometime.” You chuckle but it morphs into a loud moan when Steve’s fingers lace through your hair and yank your head back. 

“God, you really were made for me, huh?” Steve pulls your head to the side so he can shove his nose into your neck and greedily inhale your scent. 

“Mark me.” Steve slows his thrusts to deep pumps of his cock inside you and pulls back so he can look into your eyes. 

“Are you sure?” It takes literally everything in Steve to not just sink his teeth into your throat the minute you ask. 

“Of course I’m sure, you’re my mate. Mark me. Make me yours forever.” Steve leans down and kisses you messily before yanking your head back to the side by your hair and sinking his teeth deep into your neck. It makes your pussy pulse around him as an orgasm crashes through you like a tsunami. Steve pulls back and licks the blood left behind from his teeth marks and then pulls out of you, manhandling your ass onto the counter. He pushes your legs apart and grabs onto his cock, thrusting back into your glistening cunt.  

“Your turn.” Steve bares his neck to you and you feel like he just offered you the world. 

You loop one of your arms around his neck and rest the other against his chest as you lean forward to kiss along his scent gland before sinking your teeth into his skin. You feel your bond snap into place and it’s like a piece of you that was always missing is finally a part of you. You can feel Steve in every fiber of your being and it makes you cum so hard your vision goes white. 

“Oh fuck, I feel you everywhere, alpha.” 

“Mine.” Steve growls and grips onto your thighs as the pace of his hips picks up. It only takes a few pumps of his cock to have him cumming right along with you. His cock twitches inside you, ropes of his cum spilling deep into you. Steve grips onto your face and kisses you deeply. While you’re kissing you feel his knot start to expand inside of you before locking in place. It makes you yelp out but it quickly morphs into pleasure as you cum around his cock a final time.

“Everything feels so right.” You sigh dreamily as you look into your handsome alpha’s eyes.

“Yeah, it really does. You’re fucking perfect.” Steve gives you that boy next door smile that makes you feel like a schoolgirl with a crush. “I’m sorry for knotting you right here on the kitchen counter though.”

“Oh my god, Steve! You’re such a fucking dork.” You giggle and swat his chest playfully. “One second you’re spanking my ass and ripping my shorts off my body and now you’re apologizing for knotting me. I could stay here all night, honestly. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑.

You’ve been doing surprisingly well not thinking about Eddie. Having a super hot, super funny alpha like Steve has helped a lot. But the closer you get to your heat, the more often your mind starts to wander to him. And more and more you start to feel like another piece of you is missing. It’s almost like he can sense it too because you don’t know how he found out where you live but he’s started sending you courting gifts. 

A few days ago there was a knock on your door and when you opened it there was no one there, but, sitting on your doormat was a little black box. Your eyes immediately filled with tears when you opened it. There was a silver chain necklace with a little bear charm hanging from it. You didn’t need a card to know who it was from. Your Teddie. 

Then the other day when you got home from work there was takeout from your favorite Chinese place sitting on your doormat. The place you passed out in just a few weeks ago. There was a note attached, that read: “I hope this is still your favorite.” 

It wasn’t signed, but you’d recognize that messy handwriting anywhere. You’ve seen it a thousand times. Passing notes in class, doing homework together, notebooks filled with pages and pages of D&D campaigns. That combined with the fact that he remembered your Chinese order brought tears to your eyes all over again. It’s like he’s trying to make sure you can’t forget about him when you’re trying everything you can to keep him out of sight out of mind. Even if you are still stalking his socials. 

Which you’re doing right now. You’re supposed to be working but you have a few minutes before your meeting with your new client so you took it upon yourself to pull up Eddie’s Instagram. 

He hasn’t made any new posts but you look at the old ones like you haven’t seen them a thousand times before. His many pictures from Corroded Coffin shows, pictures of his hands and his toned, tattooed body. He’s so fucking hot it pisses you off. He posts pictures of his nice cars and his husky dog. God, the cats would hate that. You immediately scold yourself for letting your mind wander to thoughts of what it would be like if Eddie joined your little pack. 

He hasn’t made any new posts but he did post on his story. A flyer for an upcoming festival, a picture of his lower stomach tattoo that has to be one of the banes of your existence because every time you see it you can’t help but imagine running your tongue across it. And lastly, there was a selfie of him with a caption announcing that he would be going live tonight at 8PM. 

“Miss, your 1 o’clock is here.” Your assistant Lina pops her head into your office and you give her a small smile as you let her know you’ll be in the conference room shortly. You aren’t exactly sure who this new client is but your boss said it’s for a big record label. You take a final longing look at Eddie’s instagram before standing up, straightening your pencil skirt and walking out of your office. 

As you pull open the door to the conference room you’re hit with a waft of deliciously sweet apple pie. At first you think your client brought an actual apple pie with him but when your eyes roam the room it only takes you seconds to realize the true source. Eddie fucking Munson is sitting at the head of the large table with a mousy looking beta man that you assume is with the record label. Your body immediately fills with rage at the sight of him. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You laugh dryly. “Is this a fucking joke? You really think you can just walk into my work after ten years like it's just casual?”

“Princess, please just hear me out.” Eddie looks at you pleadingly and you can’t help but roll your eyes. 

“Hear you out? Hear you out?” You scoff as you round the table so you can get in Eddie’s face. His scent distracts you but it doesn’t outweigh the anger you feel towards him. “You fucking lied to me Eddie. And you wanna know what that lie did to me? Not only did it break me into a tiny million pieces and make me question my sanity, your rejection suppressed my omega gene for a quarter of my life!! And now that I’ve presented you suddenly want me?! Fuck that!”

Eddie sits there wide eyed, his jaw nearly on the floor as he processes your words. “I didn’t - I didn’t know. I was just trying to protect you. What if I really did find my scent match and she didn't want a beta around? I thought - I thought I was doing the right thing… But I never stopped missing you.”

“I find that really hard to believe, Edward. You’ve been living out all of your wildest rockstar dreams, I really doubt that you’ve spent all these years thinking about some girl you grew up with.” You feel tears start to burn the rims of your eyes but you force yourself to keep them inside. He doesn’t deserve to see you cry. 

“Sweetheart, you’re not just some girl to me. You never have been” Eddie looks at you pleadingly as he reaches for your hand but you snatch it away and he deflates. “Please, just give me a chance?”

“You want a chance? Bombarding me at my place of work isn’t the right way to go about it, Eddie. This wasn’t cool.” You shake your head frustratedly. “I can’t take this deal, I’m really sorry. I’ll have my assistant give you the card for our sister company and I’m sure they can help you out.” You look at the man who is awkwardly sitting next to Eddie in silence and shoot him a polite smile. “Have a nice day.”

You turn around to leave but Eddie calls your name and as much as you don’t want to give him the time of day you can’t help but look back at him. 

“Please, don’t shut me out. I need you. I miss you. I’ll do anything.” The look in Eddie’s eyes and the way his shoulders sag make the omega in you want to curl up in his lap and shove your nose in his neck, anything to make your alpha feel better. But you fight against it.

“You don’t want me to shut you out, Eddie? Maybe find a better way to go about it than this.” You sigh heavily as you look into his eyes. “Thank you for the necklace, I’ll see you around.” 

You turn and walk out of the room but not before Eddie’s eyes flash to your chest where he sees the little silver bear resting against your soft skin. You’re wearing it. Maybe there’s a chance for him yet. He will do anything and everything to prove to you that he wants you, that he’s always wanted you. 

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑.

“Whoa, hey! What’s going on?” Steve’s eyes blow wide as he gets up off the couch to rush toward you. You pushed the front door open so hard that it slammed against the wall before slamming your purse on the kitchen island. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

“He has some fucking nerve showing up at my job like that!!” You growl as you rip your coat from your body and throw it on the ground. “Who the fuck does he think he is?! Bombarding me at work after not seeing me for a fucking decade!!”

Your chest heaves as you kick your heels from your feet across the room. It only takes Steve a second to gather who “he” is. Especially considering how worked up you are. He can’t help but think you’re adorable huffing and puffing around like this. He’s also worried though.

“Baby.” Steve walks over to you and lets off a wave of his pheromones to try and calm you. It works a little, enough to get you to stop growling long enough to look at him. He rests his hands on your shoulders before running them up and down your arms soothingly. “Did Eddie show up at your work? Is that what’s happening right now?”

“Yeah! He fucking got his production company to set up a deal with my office just so he had a reason to see me!” You growl. “He just showed up after all these years, looking sexy as ever, smelling like a goddamn apple pie, with his stupid fucking face calling me that stupid fucking nickname he gave me when we were eight. Looking at me with those wet, pathetic, puppy dog eyes, ugh!!”

Steve can’t help but chuckle a little. He has to give Eddie props for creativity. 

“I’m sorry he did that to you, sweet girl.” Steve hums as he leans down to kiss his mark on your neck and it lights up every nerve in your body. “But it kind of seems like you were a little happy to see him…”

“What?!” You gasp and pull back so you can look in Steve’s eyes. He’s smirking and you kind of want to slap him. “I was not happy to see him, Steve! I can’t stand him. It’s like you’re on his side or something.” You pout. 

“Hey, don’t get it twisted. I am loyal to you first and foremost. At the end of the day I will do whatever makes you happy.” Steve takes your face in his hands. “If you want to give Eddie a chance, I support that. If you want to reject him, I’ll support that too. But I will say that I think you will regret the ladder. You’ll just be hurting yourself all over again if you reject him. I do think you should make him work for it though.” 

“What did I do to deserve you, Steve Harrington?” You look at him with teary, wonder filled eyes. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

“I could say the same thing about you, my love.” Steve smiles at you sweetly before leaning down to nuzzle his nose against yours. “But I do think you should think about what I said.”

“I will.” You nod and press a sweet kiss to his lips. “I might have seen that he’s going live tonight when I was stalking his instagram earlier… Would it be weird if I tuned in?” You bite your lip anxiously. 

“Not at all, I think he’d probably cream his pants if he saw your username pop up.” Steve smirks down at you. “Especially after that display today, it seems like he’s desperate for your attention. Throw the dog a bone. But like I said, make him work for it. You deserve the world, make him prove to you that he’s worth forgiving.” 

Eight o’clock rolls around and you’re cozied up on the couch with Steve and the cats. He bent you over in the shower and ate you like a starved man before fucking you until you screamed. Eddie is supposed to go live any minute now and anxiously scroll through instagram while Steve reads his current book of the week beside you. You finally get the notification that he’s live and your hand shakes when you click on that little circle with his photo in it. 

“Hey guys.” Eddie smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes the way you remember. He looks so fucking good though. He’s wearing a tight black tank top, displaying his toned, tattooed arms. And his fluffy hair is up in a messy bun, like he just took a nap. You can’t see the lower half of him but he has his knee propped up in view of the camera and he’s wearing fucking grey sweatpants. What is it with these men in your life and grey sweatpants? It’s like they’re trying to make you a puddle of slick or something.

“It’s been a while since I went live. But I have a song I wanna share with you guys, I hope you like it.” You watch as Eddie pulls his acoustic guitar in his lap and begins to play. 

He plucks the first few notes of the song with his skillful fingers before his voice joins in. It’s been a long time since you heard it like this. Corroded Coffin is first and foremost a metal band. Eddie’s harsh vocals and rough high notes are otherworldly, he commands every room he’s in and his stage presence is mesmerizing. You’ve heard every single one of their songs. You’ve listened to his entire discography back to back a hundred times and there’s maybe three ballads in total. Ones you secretly hoped were about you. 

But when you were younger, Eddie would always serenade you with his acoustic. He’d sing to you on warm spring days while you had a picnic, or while you dozed off in his bed in his trailer. They were always songs about princesses and dragons. He wrote a few songs about all the reasons he loved you that could be passed off as platonic but were just barely teetering the line of something more. As he begins to sing you realize you recognize this song, it’s one of those songs that was about you. It’s different now though, it’s not borderline romantic, it’s a full blown love song. 

Eddie sings about how beautiful you are, how easy being around you has always been, he sings about your late night milkshake runs to the diner and how his life would’ve never been the same without you. Even if you’re the only person in the world who knows it, he’s singing this just for you. To you. You aren’t sure if he knows you’re watching but the fact that he’s doing it even with the slim chance that you’d never see it means a lot to you. 

You don’t even realize you’re crying until Steve’s thumb comes up to wipe away your tears. He’s watching over your shoulder and he doesn’t feel jealous at all. He feels like something is missing. Like he knows Eddie is supposed to be here with the two of you. He would never push you to do anything but he really thinks you should at least hear him out. Plus you’re not wrong, Eddie is hot as hell.

Eddie plays the last few notes of the song before leaning down to get a better look at the comments flooding in. They’re mostly people wondering who the song is about and girls thirsting after him. You can’t help yourself and you drop a little pink heart emoji. And you can’t stop the butterflies that start to flutter in your belly at the way Eddie’s eyes grow comically large when he sees your comment.

“To all of you guys asking who this song is about, it’s something I wrote a long time ago.” Eddie chuckles gently. “When I played it for her originally, I changed the lyrics around so it seemed a little less romantic because back then we were just two best friends pretending we weren’t in love with each other. This is the way it was originally written though. I’ve taken a few liberties since it’s been so long… But I didn’t change much.” 

He takes a deep breath before looking directly into the camera and saying your name. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. I know I fucked up. Bad. But please, just give me a chance to explain? You’re not just my omega because of whatever cosmic bullshit that made us scent matches, you’re also my best fucking friend. I would choose you even if you weren’t meant for me. Even if you were a beta. Like I should’ve before. I was young and dumb but I love you and I’ll do anything it takes to prove that to you. I’ll go all the way to Mordor and back if that’s what it takes, princess. Just say the word.”

Eddie smiles at the camera gently before ending the live. 

“Wow.” Steve blows out a puff of air as he looks down at you. There’s tears streaming down your pretty face in buckets and he can’t help but pull you into his lap. He runs his hands along your back soothingly. “That was… Are you okay?”

“I - I don’t even know.” You laugh but it turns into a sob. “I miss him so much but I’m scared, Stevie.” You tuck your face into his neck and inhale his fresh scent to help ground you a little. 

“I know, honey.” Steve hums as he smoothes out the back of your hair. “But I think you’ll feel better if you just talk to him. And I can’t lie, I have to give him props for that, it was smooth as hell. I feel like even I was swooning a little.”

“Steve!” You chuckle as you swat his chest playfully. 

“I’m sorry baby, but I have to admit, the man is pretty and talented.” Steve shrugs as you look at him in shock. You’re about to tease him because it kind of seems like he has a crush on Eddie but your phone dings a bunch of times in a row, distracting you. When you pick it up and look at it, you see instagram message notifications from Eddie. 

“Thank you for watching, princess.”

“Please just give me a chance to explain myself?”

“I’ll be at the diner near your work tomorrow at 5PM. Will you meet me? Just to talk.”

“I was such a fucking idiot for letting you go. But I never will again, if you just give me a chance. I miss you so much.”

You read the messages and take a deep breath, throwing your head up toward the ceiling. You gather your thoughts for a moment before typing out your reply. As angry as you still are with Eddie, you know that you can’t live without him. If you reject your bond it’ll be like losing a limb and you’ve already lost him once. 

“Okay.” Is all you type before hitting send. 

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑.

“Are you sure about this?” Steve stops you by your shoulders to look into your eyes. It’s a little after five and you’re standing outside the diner Eddie said to meet at. You would’ve been earlier but you wanted to go home and change. You also decided last minute that you wanted Steve to come with you. You said no when he originally offered (without pressure of course because he’s perfect in every way) but after thinking about it, you realized it would be best to be upfront with Eddie about Steve. If he isn’t okay with Steve being part of your life, then he’s already ruined his chance. So it’s also a bit of a test. 

“Yeah, let’s fucking do this shit.” You give Steve a determined nod before pressing a kiss to his lips and marching into the diner with your head held high. Steve watches after you for a second, you’re so fucking cute when you’re all fired up. Plus the way your ass looks in those shorts is almost criminal. 

You look around the dimly lit diner. There’s black and white checkered flooring and retro art on the walls. The tables and chairs are a shiny red that perfectly matches the red and silver counter bar. You look around for Eddie and it isn’t hard to spot him. The diner isn’t very busy, there’s an old man sitting at the bar and a younger couple in a corner booth. And then there’s Eddie. Sitting in one of the large round booths, looking annoyingly irresistible. His hair looks like he just washed and styled it and he’s wearing a white cut off band tank that has his toned, fully tattooed arms on display. There’s a soft look in his pretty brown eyes when they meet yours but when they travel to Steve who has his arm resting on his lower back his lip curls up in a snarl. Shit. 

“Who the hell is that?” Eddie’s voice comes out as a growl as you approach the table and stop a few feet away. 

“This is Steve, he’s my alpha.” Your eyes shoot daggers at Eddie, challenging him to question you. “Is that going to be a problem? Because if it is, then we can just leave.”

“No, don’t go!” Eddie’s look softens again as he urgently shakes his hands in front of him. “I was just surprised, I’m sorry, please don’t go.”

“It’s fine. Me and Steve are a package deal though. There is no me without him.” You cross your arms, pushing your tits together in your little tank top and it makes Eddie’s cock stir. “He’s my scent match too.”

“God, I missed your sassy little self.” Eddie smiles at you and it takes everything in you to not just cave and forgive him on the spot. 

“I really want to punch you in the fucking face, Eddie.” Steve bursts out laughing at that and Eddie can’t help the smirk that spreads across his lips. 

“Well, if that’s what it takes for you to forgive me, I’ll gladly let you punch me in the face as many times as you want.” That makes you snort out a laugh, the tension between the three of you easing a bit. You slide into the booth next to him and Steve follows suit. Eddie’s crisp, warm apple cinnamon scent floods your nose and it makes you clench your thighs to try and hide the scent of the slick that drips into your panties. 

“I missed you.” Eddie rests his forearm on the table so he can turn toward you and you have to physically rip your eyes away from his ringed hand spread out on the table. It doesn’t help that he’s still wearing the skull ring you got him back in highschool.

“I missed you too, Eddie.” You sigh as you look over at him with sad eyes and Eddie wishes he could kick his own ass for it. 

“I’m sorry.” Eddie takes in a shaky deep breath as he closes his eyes, grounding himself before meeting your gaze again. “I was such a fucking idiot, princess. I really thought I was protecting you. I’d never hurt you just to hurt you. I didn’t know you’d just disappear from my life. I didn’t know I’d… I didn’t know this would happen. I didn’t know it could happen. I’m so sorry I did this to you.”

His bottom lip quivers as he looks up at the ceiling to try and keep the tears in his water line from falling. 

“You knew I loved you Eddie, you knew I had always imagined us together. In what universe would you telling me that you’d never want to be with me, that you found someone else, not be painful?” The wide eyed look of hurt on your face makes Eddie blink hard, a few stray tears spilling down his cheeks. 

“If the roles were reversed, if I was an omega and you never presented as an alpha I would’ve stuck by you, Eddie. Yeah, my silly childhood dream was for us to be fated mates but that wasn’t all it was about. It was about you, about us, not just our designations. If you didn’t love me, you could’ve just said so, you didn’t have to go to all this trouble to lie in order to reject me. Or if you really did care that much about if I was an omega or not, if that’s what was make or break for you, maybe I just never really knew you at all.” 

“No.” Eddie brushes the tears on his cheeks away with his ringed thumb. He doesn’t deserve to cry right now. “That is not how it is, at all. I’m just a fucking idiot. I loved you, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my entire life. I got in my head, I convinced myself that shutting down any chance of us being together was the right thing. I thought if I told you I found my omega before I actually did, it would be easier for us both in the long run. I made that decision for both of us and that wasn’t fair, I should’ve talked to you first. But I didn’t, I smashed your heart into a million pieces. I gave up on you. You knew you were an omega, my omega, and I didn’t listen. I’m not any better than your parents and all those doctors. I failed you.” 

“Yeah, you did.” You look over at Eddie with your brow furrowed, you want so badly to go off on him, be mean like you always planned. But now that you’re here? Smothered between His cozy autumn and Steve’s fresh spring scent, you feel at home, you feel complete. Steve’s hand finds your bare thigh, his thumb gently caressing your skin, grounding you with his presence in the way he does. You peer over your shoulder at him, he gives you a reassuring nod and it gives you the courage to go on. 

“You broke me, Eddie. You shattered me into a million pieces. Not only did you break my heart, you broke my mind too. Every single word of doubt and discouragement I’d heard in those years flooded me to the point that I questioned my entire existence. I knew I was an omega, I knew with every fiber of my being. But no one believed me. Not even the one person who was always there for me. So maybe it really was just all in my head, huh?” You shake your head as you chuckle dryly. “Doctors deemed me mentally unwell and delusional. I was forced into rehabilitation therapy and they wouldn’t let me stop until I finally just lied to them and told them I knew I was a beta, that I was ready to let my ‘fantasy’ about being an omega go. Even if I never truly believed it. Do you have any idea how hard that was for me?”

“God fucking damn it.” Eddie groans and pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes. “That’s fucking disgusting, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I wish I had words for how fucking sorry I am. I never should have left you. It was the worst thing I’ve ever done and I completely understand if you want nothing to do with me for the rest of our lives, I’ll respect that. But, god, it would kill me. I’ll do anything, anything to prove to you that I was wrong. I haven’t been happy since I lost you. I achieved my biggest dreams but it felt dull and grey without you. Nothing has ever felt right without you. I’d give it all up in an instant if it meant I could go back in time and spend it with you instead. I’m such a fucking dumb ass.” 

“Yeah, you are.” You giggle as you look over at Eddie with tears in your eyes and he can’t help the goofy smile that spreads across his lips. “I never could stay mad at you, could I?” 

“Nah, you can’t resist my dorky ass.” Eddie chuckles and he takes your hands in his before the look on his face turns serious. “I understand if you stay pissed at me though, you have every right to be.”

“Oh, I’m gonna be pissed for a while.” Eddie’s face falls slightly but you squeeze his hands to keep his eyes on you. “But, I quite like the look of the pathetic beggar on you, Munson, so I think I’ll keep you around.” 

“Yeah? You’d bestow such a high honor on a lowly peasant like me, fair maiden?” Eddie’s eyes twinkle with hope and you couldn’t dream of crushing it. 

“Yeah, dumby. But you better not fuck it up.” You roll your eyes and shove his shoulder playfully.

“Wouldn’t fuckin’ dream of it, princess.” Eddie smiles at you and it heats your entire body, a million good memories flashing through your mind.  

“Kiss, kiss, kiss.” Steve whisper chants on the opposite side of you and Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice, he takes your face in his hands so he can pull your lips against his own. You’ve kissed Eddie before, a playful peck as children, that one time you learned how to make out by practicing on each other. But nothing like this. 

Eddie’s lips feel like heaven as they mold perfectly against yours. Your entire body lights up like wildfire and you don’t think any amount of clenching your thighs could cover up the smell of the slick that drips out of you at his taste. Eddie’s tongue sweeps across your bottom lip and you open your mouth so he can slip it inside, your hands find purchase in his curly mane as you tangle your tongues together. You start going at it like horny teenagers, almost completely forgetting where you are until Steve clears his throat. 

“You guys are really hot together and all, but we are in a public space and the pheromones coming off the two of you could send even a beta into a frenzy.” Steve chuckles at the way Eddie’s face turns bright red and you stick your tongue out at him. He thinks he could get used to this dynamic. 

“Oooh, Stevie, you think Eddie is hot?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him. 

“Honey, look at him.” Steve gestures toward Eddie with an almost lustful look in his eyes and the images of them making out that flood your brain have another wave of slick dripping from you. 

“I think your boyfriend is hitting on me.” Eddie leans down to whisper in your ear loud enough for Steve to still hear. His warm breath fans out against your neck as his scent almost swallows you whole and you want him to sink his teeth into your mating gland right fucking here. “But that's okay because he’s pretty cute.”

“He’s so sexy, right?” You giggle. 

The three of you bound easily, meshing together like the missing pieces of a puzzle. You order food, crack jokes, tell life stories. Eddie tells Steve what you were like growing up and Steve tells the both of you about how he was in highschool. All while you’re practically glued to the seat by the slick that’s now seeping out of your yoga shorts. You know this isn’t the time to be absolutely feral but the longer you sit here between them the more horny you get. They both smell intoxicating and their body heat pressed to either side of you warms you from the inside out to the point that you’re starting to sweat and overheat. But the thought of not being between them at this moment makes you whine deep in your throat.

“Whoa, honey.” Steve stops talking abruptly, his eyes searching your face. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just - I was thinking about how we are going to have to leave soon and I got really anxious all of a sudden.” You tangle your hands together as you look down at your lap. 

“Hey.” Eddie rests his fingers under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re looking at him. He smiles gently. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? As long as you want me, I’m yours.”

“That makes me really happy to hear, Eddie.” You smile back but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “It’s just right now the thought of walking away from you after this even just for the night, I don’t know, it just sounds really awful if that makes sense? God, is it hot in here?”

Steve’s hand rests on your forehead, checking your temperature. He observes the thin layer of sweat on your skin, how strong your scent is, the hazy look in your eyes. “Baby, I think you’re going into heat.”

“What? It’s probably just one of my heat spikes, I just need some fresh air-” Your words are cut short by a stabbing pain in your abdomen that makes your body bend in half. “Oh my god, ow! Shit, okay, maybe you’re right.”

“Fuck, should I go?” Eddie looks over your shoulder at Steve in a panic. The thought of leaving you right now disgusts him but he isn’t exactly sure where he fits in this puzzle yet. Steve’s eyes widen as he shakes his head slowly while mouthing the word “no”. 

“No!” Your hands fly to Eddie’s arm in a panic, your nails digging into his bare skin from the strength in which you latch on. “Please, no. Don’t leave me again, Eddie, I need you.”

“Sweetheart, you’ve barely even forgiven me.” Eddie pulls your hands from his arm and takes them in his own, caressing your heated skin gently. His touch calms you a bit and slight embarrassment sets in at your desperation. “Are you sure? I don’t want to do anything you’ll regret when your heat is over.” 

“I’m still upset with you, Eddie. But I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you if you don’t stay with me through this. I need you with me.” You meet his eyes, forcing the haziness from taking over just long enough so he can see how much you mean it. “I am still sound of mind enough to know that I want this, I want you. Please?”

“I don’t ever want to hear you beg me for a single goddamn thing, alright?” Eddie drops your hands so he can cup your cheeks instead. “I am the only one who should ever be begging for anything in this relationship. I will always give you what you need.” 

The way his words mirror the ones Steve said to you before he fucked you the first time heats your body and your heart. A few months ago you were still a lonely beta and now you’re an omega, with two alphas that are devoted to you and your happiness.

“What if I’m a real bad girl and you have to punish me until I beg you to stop or let me finally cum?” The haze in your eyes returns as you look at Eddie lustfully, your bottom lip secured between your teeth. Steve and Eddie both groan in unison as a puff of each of their pheromones fills your nose, making you dizzy.

“Oh, jesus fucking christ.” Eddie’s cock feels like it’s going to burst out of his jeans and he really isn’t sure what’s stopping him from knotting and claiming you right here in this booth. 

“Alright, we better get the fuck out of here before it starts getting pornographic.” Steve chuckles as he starts to slide out of the booth but you latch onto his arm with both of yours, stopping him. “Honey, I’m going to go pay and Eddie is going to take you out to the car, then we will get you home and give you all the knots you want, alright?” You let out a cute little growl as you clutch onto him tighter. 

“Princess, it’s okay.” Eddie grabs your hands and gently pulls them off Steve. “Steve will be just a second, right Steve? And then we will all go in the same car together. We can leave Steve’s car here.”

“What? Why my car? I know the way there, I should be the one driving.” Steve raises a brow at Eddie.

“No offense dude, but, I saw your mom wagon and I'd waaay rather leave that here than my Lambo. You can drive, though.” Eddie pulls his keys from his pocket, points the fob toward his car to unlock it, and throws Steve the keys before picking you up bridal style and carrying you out of the diner. 

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑.

It takes everything in Eddie to not sink his cock into your dripping heat in the passenger of his two seater. The drive to your house is only about ten minutes but you’re sitting on his lap and the material of his jeans is soaked through from you grinding your needy, slick dripping pussy against him. It doesn’t help that you’re pawing at his clothes while you look at him with big desperate eyes and your scent was so thick in the small space he felt high off of it. “Princess, the first time I fuck you is not going to be in my car, okay?”

“We’re almost there honey, only like one more minute.” Steve peaks over at you and he feels like his cock is going to explode out of his jeans. 

When Steve pulls into the driveway he’s barely parked before he’s out of the car and speed walking around the front. He pulls the passenger door open and practically rips you from Eddie’s lap and speed walks toward the front door with Eddie close on his heels. Once you’re inside he heads directly for your room while you writhe around in his arms. 

Steve throws you down on the bed amongst the various pillows and articles of clothing you’ve been arranging there for the last week. Your skin is flushed and covered with a sheen of sweat and your little pink yoga shorts are completely soaked at the crutch, making them a shade darker. You’re breathing heavily, making your tits bounce in your little top and the look in your eyes is feral. Eddie comes to stand at the end of the bed with Steve and your knees subconsciously fall to your sides, causing a strong wave of your arousal to waft through the room. 

“Please?” You whine as you look up at them with glassy eyes, they’re both so fucking hot. Steve in his tight white t-shirt that you can just barely see his chest hair through and his thick cock straining against his jeans that always seem to mold perfectly with his body. His chestnut hair is tousled and his hazel eyes are almost black as he stares down at you hungrily. That goddamn cut off shirt Eddie is wearing shows off his tattoo covered arms and it hits just above his belt, giving you a delicious view of his happy trail and slutty lower stomach tattoo. His ripped black jeans fit looser on the bottom but they’re tight in all the right places. Like his ass and his big fucking cock that you’re dying to see, his zipper looks like it’s going to burst and you kind of hope it does. Also they both smell so fucking good it’s making you more dizzy than you already.

A stabbing pain shoots through your abdomen causing you to cry out. “Please fuck me? Bite me, knot me, fill me with cum until I’m so full it just keeps spilling out and then fill me some more.” 

Steve’s nostrils flare and he breathes out through his nose almost like a bull. He rips his shirt over his head so fast you hear a tearing sound and tosses it on the bed among the various clothing items already there. His large hand wraps around your ankle and he pulls you to the edge of the bed until your calves are hanging off. He grips onto the top of your shorts, ripping them in two with such ease you’d think they were a piece of paper. When he sees you’re not wearing panties, your glistening, puffy cunt on full display for him with your honey-sweet scent flooding his senses, he loses it. 

“Mine.” Steve growls and drops to his knees in front of the bed, throwing your legs over his shoulders and shoves his face between your legs. He runs the tip of his nose through your folds, inhaling deeply. He flattens his tongue and licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, he circles your bud a few times before bringing his tongue back to your hole so he can taste your sweet nectar. Sweet fucks you with his tongue, sucking your clit and shoving his tongue as deep as it will go inside of you until you’re coming apart for him. Your back arches off the bed so far he has to pin you down and your slick drips down his chin and neck as you cry out his name. 

“Fuck, that’s a beautiful sight.” Somewhere amongst your orgasm haze you hear Eddie’s voice and it has another orgasm hurtling through you. Steve fucks you through it before standing up and riding himself of the rest of his clothes. Eddie comes to sit beside you on the edge of the bed and your pussy clenches around nothing at the sight of him. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

“Need you.” You reach for him as another shooting pain stabs through you but he grabs onto your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

“I know, sweetheart.” Eddie pushes some of your hair out of your face and runs a ringed finger along your temple down your jaw. “But it’s only fair that I let Stevie here have you first.”

“I think I just might like you, Munson.” Steve smirks at Eddie as he grabs onto one of your thighs and throws it around his hip. He cups your pussy, grinding his palm against your pulsing clit so he can collect some of your slick. Steve takes his shaft in his wet hand and pumps it a few times before lining up and burying his cock inside you in one rough thrust. Your pussy greedily sucks him in, the feeling of his cock easing the stabbing pain coursing through you. He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back into you and starting up at a rough pace. 

“Oh, fuck yes.” You moan loudly as Steve practically uses your pussy as a cock sleeve, you hear a zipper next to your head and when you look over you see Eddie pulling his cock from his jeans as he watches the way Steve slides in and out of you, the sounds of your slick filling the room. His ringed hand slides between your legs rubbing against your clit. His palm rests against your mound as he spreads his fingers down the middle and runs them down either side of Steve’s cock that’s nestled inside you. He slides his fingers up and down a few times, gathering your slick as his rings rub against the soft skin of Steve’s cock. You watch Steve’s face for his reaction and when you see the way he’s looking at Eddie with fire in his eyes it makes your walls clench around him. 

“I think I might like you too, Steve.” You tilt your head to look at Eddie and he has that shit eating grin that you know all too well plastered on his face. He pulls his hand from between your legs and uses it to lube up his cock before gripping onto it so he can stroke himself. 

“God, that was so hot.” Your words are slurred and you have this hazy look in your eyes but that doesn’t spot you from returning Eddie’s smirk with one of your own. “I wanna see you guys kiss.”

“Yeah? Maybe one day, honey.” Steve grabs onto your thighs and throws them over his shoulders as he pumps his cock into you, the new angle has the head of him pressing right against your sweet spot and it makes your pussy clench like vice grip around his cock while you come undone for him. “That’s a good girl, cum all over your alpha’s cock.”

“You’re taking him so well, baby girl.” Eddie cups your cheek gently as he looks down at you in awe. He’s stroking his cock leisurely while he watches you, scared he might bust his nut at the sight of you like this if he gets too carried away. “I can’t fucking wait to be inside you, how does she feel, Steve?”

“So fucking good, so fucking tight and wet. Her pussy is fucking perfect.” Steve moans as he leans over you, his hands coming down on either side of your head with your legs still thrown over his shoulders, practically folding you in half like a pretzel. 

“Yes! Oh my god alpha, that’s so good.” Your hands grip onto Steve's forearms, your nails digging into his flesh deliciously. “I’m so close, choke me, Eddie.”

“Jesus Christ, are you for real?” Eddie groans and his cock twitches in his hand. 

“She’s deadly fucking serious, our omega is a little masochist.” Steve chimes in for you.

“God, I’m so fucking obsessed with you.” Eddie licks his lips as he brings his free hand to your throat. He wraps his thick ringed fingers around your flesh before squeezing just tight enough to obstruct your air flow. You pussy spasms around Steve’s cock as another ogasm has euphoria over taking your entire being. 

“I’m gonna fucking cum.” Steve moans as he pushes himself up to stand again, he grabs onto the back of your thighs and pushes them to your chest as he fucks you like a wild animal. It doesn’t take long for his cock to pulse inside you as ropes of his cum fill your walls.

“Knot, alpha, give me your knot. Need it.” Your mind is so foggy it feels like silent hill has taken up residence there and all you can think about now is how badly you need Steve’s knot inside you. You don’t have to want long because as soon as he stops cumming you feel the head of his cock inflate inside you. There’s a stabbing pain that’s quickly replaced with otherworldly pleasure, your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body probably would’ve flown off the bed if Eddie’s hands didn’t come down to pin your hips. It feels like it takes you forever to come down from your high. But when you finally do, Steve grabs onto you so he can pick you up just long enough to lay down on the bed on his back with you straddling him. 

“Mmm, you feeling any better, honey?” Steve’s knot is still nestled inside of you and he runs his hands down your hair to your back where he traces little circles on your skin with his fingertips. You feel the mattress shift and when you peel your tired eyes open you see a now shirtless Eddie propped up on his elbow the bed beside you.

“Yes, a little.” You nod, your cheek rubbing against Steve’s sweaty chest hair. “But, I need Eddie’s knot too.” Your bottom lip juts out as you look over at him with puppy dog eyes.

“And I’m going to give it to you, sweet thing.” Eddie hums. “As soon as Steve’s goes down, I’m all yours.”

After about ten minutes you feel Steve’s cock start to soften inside you, his knot unlocking from your walls. You’re so wet he slips out of you once he’s fully soft and Eddie wastes absolutely no time ripping your body from Steve’s and throwing you onto your back. He hovers over you on his knees and the sight of him all tattooed and now fully naked makes you whimper. He runs two of his fingers through your slit, gathering your slick and Steve’s cum onto them. He brings them to your lips, smearing the wetness across them like lipgloss. 

“Taste it.” You oblige him, taking his thick fingers into your mouth until his rings hit your lips. You swirl your tongue around, your eyes rolling back with a moan at the taste of you and Steve together. Eddie pulls his fingers from your mouth and leans down to lick your lips before kissing you hard. He runs his tongue along your bottom lip and you open your mouth so he can slide it against yours. He tangles your tongues together before sucking yours into his mouth and pulling off, a string of spit still connecting you. 

“Damn, you guys taste delicious together.” Eddie smirks over at Steve with his wet mouth and it has his cock hardening again already. 

“Are you flirting with me, Munson?” Steve raises a thick brow at him, returning his smirk with one of his own. 

“I thought it would be obvious by now.” Eddie chuckles.

“You guys are super cute and all but I feel like I’m getting stabbed and if you don’t fuck me soon I’m gonna lose my shit.” You look between them, a devious little smirk of your own finding your lips. “Unless you guys are gonna kiss, then I can wait for that.” 

“Well, what the princess wants…” Eddie leans over you to grab the back of Steve’s neck so he pull his mouth against his in a hard kiss. Steve’s hands find purchase in Eddie’s hair and their lips move together roughly. Their mouths open and you see their tongues dancing with each other messily. It’s messy and rough and it looks like they’re fighting for dominance.

“That’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” Your voice has your alphas breaking their kiss and their attention directed back to you. “Maybe I can watch you guys fuck someday.” 

“I’m sure you’d love that.” Eddie chuckles before wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing. He leans down so his face less than an inch from yours, his hot breath hitting your face. “But right now, you’re fucking mine. I have waited so long for this and I’m about to fuck you until you can’t walk for days.”

“Do it. Fucking ruin me, Eddie.” It’s like you said the magic words because Eddie grips onto your hips so he can flip you onto your stomach. You push yourself up onto your hands and arch your back so your ass is in the air for him. His hand comes down on your asscheek hard, his rings biting your skin. He gives the other cheek the same treatment before thrusting two thick fingers inside of you.

“You’re so fucking wet.” Eddie groans as he pumps his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace. You clench around his fingers, your orgasm just in reach, but he pulls his fingers out of you, taking your orgasm with him.

“Hey! I was about to cum!” You whine.

“I know, baby, but I need you to cum on my cock.” You feel the tip of Eddie’s cock slide through your folds before his slams into you in one thrust and starts to fuck you with no remorse. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight, oh my god.”

“You feel so fucking good, alpha.” You bounce back against him, meeting his thrusts the best you can. Eddie’s hand smacks your ass again before he roughly grips onto your hips as you fucks you like his life depends on it. 

“Damn, you’re right, that is a beautiful sight.” The sound of Steve’s voice has your head whipping toward him and you moan at the sight of him. His hair is a complete mess, his skin is shiny with sweat, including his glistening chest hair, and he’s jerking himself off. “You look so fucking gorgeous, baby.”

“So gorgeous.” Eddie agrees as he wraps your hair around his hand, he pulls it so hard it makes your hands raise off the bed. He snaps his hips into you over and over again, the sound of skin slapping on skin and your slick practically echoing off the walls. 

“Bite me, Eddie.” You lean your head to the side, bearing your neck to him.

“Fuck, princess, are you sure?” Eddie’s thrusts slow for a moment as he looks down at you, hesitantly. He shoots Steve a questioning look and the other alpha gives him a reassuring nod.

“I’m so fucking sure, I’ve wanted it for as long as I can remember, I’m done waiting.” Eddie growls, pulling out of you and pushing you onto your back and slamming his cock back into you before you hardly have time to miss it. 

“You’re mine, baby, you always have been, and now you always will be.” Eddie presses his hand under your head so he can cup the back of your neck before leaning down and running his tongue along the column of your throat as he pulls his cock almost all the way out of you and then he bares his teeth, sinking them into your flesh while he slams his cock into you rough and deep. Every nerve in your body feels like it’s on fire and you have the most mind blowing orgasm of the night. Eddie pulls away and looks at you like you just gave him the world, because you did, you’re his everything. 

“My turn. Where can I…?” You look over Eddie’s inked form, there isn’t much left that isn’t tattooed but as you’re looking for a spot to bite him, you spot an empty patch of skin right on the side of his neck, underneath one of his neck tattoos. You run your finger along it as you look into his chocolatey eyes. “Is this spot okay?”

“Of course, that’s your spot, remember?” Eddie cups your jaw and runs his thumb along the apple of your cheek. You try to search your foggy mind for what he’s talking about but you’re coming up short. You give him a puzzled look as you shake your head gently. “It was right after I presented when we were sixteen, we were sitting in the back of the van at the lake. It was a hot ass hell summer day so we went swimming and you brought lunch for us because you’re just always prepared like that.” Eddie chuckles fondly. “I was shirtless and had just gotten my first chest tattoo for my birthday and you look at me dead in the eyes, pointed at that spot on my neck and said ‘I know you want to be covered in tattoos one day, but you better always leave this spot open for me to mark’ and so I did.”

“Eddie’s that’s-” You eyes well up with tears as you look up at the man you’ve loved all your life. He’s so beautiful, his button nose, those plush pink lips, those sweet chocolate eyes that assured you on your worst days. You lost him, and you were so angry at him for it. But now he’s here, inside you, with a beautiful patch of porcelain skin that he kept bare for the last seventeen years, for you. “I fucking love you, Eddie munson.”

“And I fucking love you, sweetheart.” He sends you that goofy smile that you love so much and you wrap your arms around his neck pulling him down so you can sink your teeth into him. A second shockwave buzzes through your body as you feel your bond with Eddie snap into place, an unexpected orgasm taking you by surprise. “I’m glad we covered that because I’m going to fuck the shit out of you and knot you now.”

“God, you guys are so cute.” You hear Steve gush beside you and you smile over at him sweetly.

“I love you too, Stevie.” Your eyes don’t stay on him for long because Eddie rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you’re straddling him. He plants his feet on the mattress and grabs onto your ass as he fucks up into you hard and deep. 

“I love you honey, get that knot.” Steve chuckles and you suddenly feel like he’s too far from you. Your sweet, handsome, dorky doctor. 

“I wanna suck your cock.” You pout through the moans that are falling from your lips like a song from the way Eddie is fucking you. 

“Anything for you.” Steve crawls over to you and presses himself up on his knees, planting one foot on the mattress. He grips onto the back of your head and pulls you down to his cock. You open your mouth and Steve doesn’t waste any time thrusting into it, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. 

“Goddamn, princess, look at you.” Eddie groans as he continues to thrust up into you, using his grip on your ass to bounce you even faster up and down on his cock. “You’re such a good little omega, taking us both so well.”

“Mhm, you’re such a good girl.” Steve moans at the feeling of your lips wrapping around his cock, your tongue running along the vein on the underside of his shaft. His hand palms the back of your head as he starts to fuck your throat. Eddie’s thumb finds your clit and it has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. Steve’s fingers lace through your hair, yanking your head back and his free hand wraps around your throat. “Look at me while Eddie makes you fall apart on his cock, I wanna see the look in your eyes while he takes what belongs to us.”

“Give your alpha’s your cum, cum on my cock, baby.” Eddie’s words are what teeters you over the edge. Your walls practically swallow his cock and it has him cumming right along with you. Eddie growls as his thick cock pulses cum into your wet cunt. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum too.” Steve’s grabs both sides of your head in his hands as he fucks your mouth until his balls twitch and he’s cuming in ropes down your throat as he stares deeply into your eyes. “That’s it, omega, swallow every drop.” 

“Shit, yes.” Eddie’s knot pops inside of you causing you to pull off Steve’s cock with a cry. The pain turns into another orgasm, your body going rigid as you fall forward on Eddie’s chest. You lay there, sweaty and panting as you come down from your high. Once your heart rate starts to even out you feel how right everything feels. You can feel your bond with Eddie and Steve both and you finally feel complete. Steve lays down on the bed next to you, looking over at you sweetly while he gently caresses your back. And you’ve never felt more at home than you do right now, wrapped in their fresh lemon and warm apple scents. 

“You did so good for us, omega.” Eddie sighs contently as he presses a kiss against your sweaty forehead. Your mind feels a little less foggy than before but you know it won’t be long until you’re a knot hungry monster again. 

“You’re amazing, honey.” Steve leans over to kiss your lips sweetly. “I’m gonna go to the store and get supplies for the week. Two knots won’t be enough for long.”

“You’re leaving?” Your brow pinches and you feel a sudden rush of panic hit you.

“Just for like thirty minutes, baby, I’ll be back as soon as you can. Eddie will be here with you. It’ll be good for you guys to have a moment to yourselves.” Steve kisses you again before getting up to get dressed. Eddie smiles up at him, mouthing thank you and Steve shoots him a wink. That makes Eddie blush even though they just made out less than thirty minutes ago. All three of you are definitely looking forward to exploring that more. Steve leans over to kiss your head again before leaving you and Eddie alone. 

“I’m truly sorry, sweetheart.” Eddie sighs. “I’m so sorry I deprived us of this for so long.”

“Yeah you really fucked up on that one.” You chuckle, pushing yourself up so you’re sitting, his knot still nestled inside of you. You smile down at him fondly as you take his face in your hands. “We have it now though, for the rest of our lives, and that’s all that matters. Holding onto that pain won’t do us any good.”

“I’m not worthy of you, I love you so fucking much.” Eddie pulls you down so he can kiss you deeply, pouring all his apologies and love into this one kiss that makes your head spin and your pussy clench. 

“I love you too, Teddie.” You giggle, resting your forehead against his. “I’m glad we covered that, because I’m really fucking horny again and your knot just went down.”

Eddie chuckles at you throwing his earlier words back at him before throwing you on your back. He leans over you, sending you that smile that you never want to go another day without seeing. “Alright then, let’s feed the knot monster.”

Taglist: @eddiesxangel @eerielamb @moonlightseranade @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can @phantommoondoll @frombeyondthegravez @ali-r3n @sugasweettea @minniture @micheledawn1975 @bellalillyrose @bakusquadobsessed

Dividers by: @anitalenia & @strangergraphics

[kanonakin]

LADS Men if they were in reverse tropes

I saw a tiktok with a whole list of book tropes but in reverse and I just had to assign it to them.

Pairings: Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel, Caleb, and Zayne x Reader (separate)

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉ ─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉ ─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉ ─┉

Sylus

Reverse trope: Accidentally kidnapped the mafia boss

The one time you decided to get out of your comfort zone and do something crazy, you somehow end up in your storage unit with the city’s most dangerous man tied up in a chair.

“Just so you know, I didn’t mean to do this.” You had an awkward smile plastered on your face which quickly faltered when you remembered that you had also blinded folded him.

“Hmm, are you planning on letting me go anytime soon or do you have something planned for me?”

Thoughts raced through your head as you stared at him. He had this almost unnoticeable smirk on his face, like he was enjoying this.

Xavier

Reverse trope: Too many beds

“This is ridiculous.”

You had been sent on a far away mission and had randomly ran into Xavier who heading to the same city. Deciding to tag along, you both headed to the place the hunter’s association had booked for you.

It’s a hostel… and there’s no one else there but you and Xavier.

Since having brought Xavier on a whim, you couldn’t tell if you were lucky or not getting a hostel with multiple beds instead of having to share one bed.

You called Jenna to see if there was some sort of mix-up. There was, but having only needed to stay one night you decided to go against having to move to a different place and just stayed in the Hostel.

Despite there being almost 20 different beds, Xavier decides to sleep at the bunk bed right above you.

“You really don’t want to go to a different bed? That spot over there has more moonlight.” You say pointing to the other area.

“I’m good here.”

Rafayel

Reverse Trope: Meet-Ugly

Your living room needed a cute little something, and you decided that something would be a big beautifully decorated fish tank. You hadn’t had a fish in years since your last one died, so getting a new pet was basically part of new transformation into adulthood.. and getting an apartment too, of course.

You found this cute little family owned local pet store nearby with a big collection of beautiful fish.

Unfortunately for you, you weren’t the only one looking for beautiful fish.

“Are you serious right now? You can’t claim dibs on a fish!”

“I just did, that Angelfish wants me to take him home!”

Arguing with some purple haired guy over the last Angelfish in the store wasn’t on your to-do list today.

Caleb

Reverse Trope: Unrequited Rivalry (you have a one sided rivalry against Caleb)

You worked so hard to be the best in the academy, yet within only a month of transferring a prodigy overtakes quickly makes his way to #2 place, right behind you.

He’s tried talking to you multiple times, “Hey, I was thinking we should work on our end of the year research project together, since we’re both the best.” But you would walk away every time.

He’s probably trying to sabotage your final scores so he push me down, that gotta be it, right?

Yet he keeps coming back to you every time there’s a project involving partners and you turn him down every time.

“You know you’re not gonna win by sabotaging me right?” You said finally confronting him.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re gonna stay in 2nd place because I’m gonna stay in 1st place for the rest of the time i’m at this school and no prodigy is gonna overtake me.”

Caleb had an annoyingly confused look on his face, “I’m rank 2 in the whole academy?”

What?? He didn’t even know? But he’s trying to take your place? Right?

Zayne

Reverse Trope: He’s hurt and you’re a doctor but not the right kind. (Opposite of savior romance trope)

It was a long day, you had just finished up your last client and you could not wait to get into a warm bath and comfy bed.

Of course something has to go wrong and throw your plans off. The universe hates you.

Which is why instead of at home, you’re sitting next to a man who’d just gotten hit by a car.

“Stop moving please, I think it’ll make your injuries worse.” You informed him.

But he noticed your name tag on your shirt with your Dr. status right beside your name, “Aren’t you a doctor, what do you mean you think?”

“I’m a clinical psychologist.”

“Oh great, that’ll help me a lot.”

Oh he’s one of those sarcastic ones.

[depressed-freak13]

autistic eddie who has only dated steve.

theyve been dating for a few weeks before eddies mind starts to wander and think of what dating someone else would be like. but purely in a logical-scientific-i-must-test-this-hypothesis sense.

so he talks to steve and steve is so supportive. he says eddie should find someone safe to take on a date to test his theory.

the day comes where eddie takes daniel—danny—on a date. steve has a shift with robin at family video.

robin has been anxiously flitting about the store since their shifts began. shes been rambling non-stop about anything and everything—utter nonsense. robin just wants to keep steves mind off eddie being on a date with someone else.

she knows steve. she knows how quickly he falls in love and how close to the cusp of it he is with eddie.

if hes not already there yet.

eventually though, eventually, robins rambling works against her. she cant remember how she got here—talking about her hopeless love life and how shes destined to be alone forever.

but it pops out.

“—just want something like you and eddie.”

silence.

robin stops breathing.

she did that. she totally did that. she cant believe she did that.

steve doesnt say anything. robins back is to him so she cant see his face. she cant see how massively she fucked up.

robin is determined to live her life standing in this family video with her back to steve so she can never see his reaction and never know how she just broke his heart—oh my god shes a terrible best friend—

a noise interrupts her panic. a noise from steve. a noise that robin is familiar with.

robin whips around, nearly spinning in a complete circle with her speed.

—hes—hes—hes—guffawing?

robin doesnt know how else to describe it. steve is behind the family video counter, one hand splayed across the counter. the other hand is holding his stomach as he snort-laugh-coughs?-wheezes so hard robin swears she can feel the vibrations in the soles of her feet.

robin is over here—planning the end of her life because she thought she broke her soulmates heart.

and steve is—steve is—

steve has spent the last 8 months spending time with eddie. he sat by his hospital bed, keeping eddie company with his horrid jokes and stumbling through his first reading of the hobbit because

“stevie its my favorite”

steve drove eddie to his physical therapy appointments and cheered eddie on when the metalhead had good days. steve also embraced the silence and made sure to stop for a treat on the way home when eddie had a bad day.

when eddie was finished with physical therapy, steve learned all of the stretches and exercises that would help eddie maintain his strength and mobility. every day, without fail, steve would remind eddie to do the stretches and exercises the two of them learned. and on days when eddie adamantly refused—steve would use his harrington charm to either guilt or beg eddie into completing them.

even when steve wasnt spending time with eddie at the hospital or for doctors appointments—the two were always together. whether they were showing each other their favorite movies or eddie was forcing steve to expand his music knowledge or the two were sitting out at the quarry, smoking a joint from eddies personal stash—“its the good stuff steve. if we’re gonna be besties you gotta smoke the good stuff”—and gazing at the stars. they were always together.

the point is—the point is—steve has spent a lot of time with eddie. a lot of time where steve has come to see eddie for his likes and dislikes—and read how to see that on eddies face.

steve knows he doesnt have much going for him. hes not book smart, he doesnt have much of a career, hes not overly ambitious (and of course none of that makes him less—thanks eddie) but steve has always been people smart.

hes always had a knack for reading people. he can tell when someone is genuinely enjoying something versus when theyre faking it—even if theyre a really good actor.

and steve has spent a lot of time with eddie—as previously stated—which means steve can read eddie like he hand-wrote that book.

so steve can see that eddie has never been drawn to someone like hes been drawn to steve. even in the beginning, when they were just strangers who had saved the world together, steve saw how eddie reacted to him differently than anyone else. looking back on those moments now, steve recognizes the attraction—the fire—the love—that was lit in his chocolate eyes. steve has never seen eddie look at anyone else that way.

steve also saw how eddie nearly physically recoiled when danny picked him up.

—not that he meant to be there. he totally didnt mean to be there. happy accident. pure coincidence—

max had been asking steve to take her out to the diner—absolutely not begging, no matter what anyone said. it was just coincidence that he happened to do it on the same day and around the same time as eddies date with danny.

—okay so steve and max totally planned it and they were definitely peeking out the curtains of maxs trailer for a full hour before danny finally showed up—

but thats beside the point.

steve had seen danny get out of his car and knock on the trailer door. the door opened and eddie appeared and steve could not contain his snort.

steve didnt know what it was about danny.

his clothes

his smile

his smell

his face

but something about danny repelled eddie. steve saw eddies brow and eye twitch. a sure sign he was holding back from flinching away.

eddie was definitely not interested in danny.

for a second, steve thought about walking over and claiming eddie had outstanding plans with him and max. an easy escape for eddie.

but then steve thought for another second, and couldnt wait to hear about how bad of a time eddie had.

—of course, steve would absolutely step in if eddie was feelng uncomfortable or unsafe. but steve knew that eddie was able to handle himself, and might get frustrated if steve tried to step in. steve also knew that eddie desperately wanted to test his date theory, even at the expanse of himself.

so steve let eddie go on his date, and then steve went to the diner with max and came to work his shift with robin.

which is where he was now, struggling to breathe as he laughs at robins unnecessary panic and counting down the minutes until his shift ends and he can show up at the trailer, hear about eddies date theory, and snuggle up with his boyfriend.

[hsnlv]

stay | p.js

req!: a request from this! (requests are always open btw!!)

pairing: husband!jay x fem!reader

warnings: pregnancy loss, grief, self-blame, emotional distress, angst! plsplspls stay away if you’re very sensitive abt this topic

a/n: this is actually a prequel to “together | p.js” ! :// i know that this topic can be veryy sensitive to some people and i tried my best to put it out as relatable(?) but also respectful as i can! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated 💗here’s my masterlist!💗

how it happened, you weren’t sure.

one moment, your baby was safe inside you, a little life growing, a part of you. the next, the doctor’s voice filled the room—gentle, regretful.

“i’m sorry.”

two words. just two. but they ripped through you like a knife, severing the world you knew from the one you were suddenly forced to live in.

you don’t remember how you got home. don’t remember how you ended up here, lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. your hands press against your stomach, desperate to feel something, anything. but there’s only emptiness. an aching hollow space where life once was.

you want to scream, to let out the unbearable weight crushing your chest, but the air feels thick, choking, like it refuses to leave your lungs. you want to cry, but you can’t. because maybe you don’t deserve to.

if you had just been more careful, this wouldn’t have happened, right?

but it wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

all you wanted was a warm cup of chocolate milk. just something simple, something comforting. you reached for the chocolate powder on the top shelf, stretched just a little too far—then everything blurred. a slip, a sharp gasp, the world tilting before you hit the ground.

you know it wasn’t your fault. you know that. but who else can you blame?

was this the universe’s way of telling you that you weren’t ready? that you weren’t meant to be a mother?

but if that was true, why did it give you this baby in the first place, only to take them away?

“angel.”

jay’s voice is soft, careful, as he sits beside you. you don’t move, don’t even blink.

his hand finds your head, fingers brushing away the messy strands of hair stuck to your forehead. his touch is so, so gentle—like he’s afraid that if he presses too hard, you’ll break. or worse, you’ll disappear entirely.

because he knows you’re barely holding on.

he lost his child, too. and yet, his first thought is still you.

he knows how much you loved this baby. how every night, you whispered to them, caressing your belly like you could somehow make them feel the love in your heart.

“you’re going to grow up so pretty… or handsome!”

“my precious, precious little baby.”

“mama and dada are going to love you so, so much.”

but those words don’t belong to you anymore.

jay lets out a slow breath, grounding himself before he speaks. “come on, baby. let’s get up and get you some food, okay?”

you don’t move. you can’t.

instead, the words slip from your lips, fragile and uncertain. “did i fail you?”

it’s barely a whisper, but he hears it.

your biggest fear, the thought clawing at the back of your mind—you lost your baby, and now you’re afraid you’ve lost your husband, too.

what if he’s disappointed in you? what if he looks at you and sees nothing but the person who lost the one thing that mattered most?

what if he leaves?

all over a stupid cup of chocolate milk.

jay doesn’t even let the thought settle.

before you can spiral any further, he moves, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close like he can physically shield you from your own pain.

his voice is steady, unwavering. “never. you can never fail me.”

your breath hitches.

“do you hear me, baby?” he pulls back just enough to cup your face in his hands, tilting your chin up so you have no choice but to look at him. his eyes shine with something so deep, so full of love, it nearly breaks you all over again. “this is not your fault. not even a little bit. you didn’t do anything wrong.”

you shake your head, voice cracking. “but if i— if i just—”

“no.” his thumbs swipe away the tears you didn’t even realize had started falling. “no what-ifs. no blaming yourself. you did everything right, okay?”

you sniffle, fingers weakly grasping at the fabric of his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping you from crumbling completely.

jay leans in, pressing his forehead against yours, his warmth grounding you. “i love you,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your skin. “so much. you are everything to me. and this—this pain we’re feeling, we’ll get through it together. you’re not alone, angel. you’ll never be alone.”

you let out a shaky breath, and he takes it as a sign to pull you even closer, wrapping himself around you completely.

“you’re allowed to grieve,” he whispers. “you’re allowed to be sad, to be angry, to feel everything. and i’ll be here for every second of it.”

he presses soft kisses along your hairline, down to your temple, his hands never stopping their soothing movements against your back. “but don’t ever think for a second that you failed me. if anything, i feel like i failed you.”

you pull back at that, brows furrowing. “what? no, jay—”

“i couldn’t protect you,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “i wasn’t there to catch you, to stop this from happening. i would take this pain from you if i could, baby. in a heartbeat.”

your chest tightens. how could he think that?

“but i am here now,” he continues, determined. “and i’m going to take care of you. so let me, okay?”

you nod, and that’s all he needs.

jay spends the rest of the night holding you. when your body shakes with sobs, he’s there, whispering sweet reassurances against your hair. when you’re too exhausted to cry anymore, he helps you change into something comfortable, guiding you with patient hands. when you finally let yourself fall asleep, he doesn’t let go, his arms locked securely around you.

he stays.

he always stays.

weeks later, you find yourself in the bathroom, heart pounding as you stare at the pregnancy test in your hands.

two pink lines.

©️ all rights reserved | hsnlv | 2025

[kenmaspuddinghair]

Honorably discharged partially disabled Simon part 6

this one ends much more happily, a little over 1k words

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

Your house felt packed, once the doctor left again you called Price even though it was past midnight, and so he came over, followed closely by Soap and Gaz. Right now you were rewarming some muffins you had made the previous day for them to snack on, and grabbing them some water. They were all quietly talking, surrounding Simon's bed. Once you got in between all of them, you whispered “here’s some food and water, cause I can tell you two were drinking earlier” the last part directed to Soap and Gaz who had in fact been at a bar just a few hours ago. 

After a few minutes you kicked the other boys out, telling them if they really wanted they could sleep on the couch, and of course they wanted to stay close to their lieutenant. You walked back into Simon’s room, silently sitting yourself right next to him under the covers, “to think you were in so much pain just because I wasn’t sitting next to you, it’s wild Simon” after almost an hour you and the doctor finally figured out why Simon was in so much pain, since you had been staying in his room the past few nights, you kept it to a temperature you liked which was colder than normal, and apparently Simon had also been experiencing excessive sweating which to him seemed normal, he was a big guy who worked out often of course he sweats a lot, but last night in a already warm room it got to much, intensifying the pain. Every night Simon would also feel an odd stinging sensation in his legs before he fell asleep which he would ignore, because whenever he pulled you onto him, your weight acted as pressure against it relieving the pain he wasn't even fully aware of yet. 

Now, do to these new symptoms changes had to be made, the doctor was prescribing medicine, specifically Nortriptyline, most over the counter pain relief dont work when it comes to nerve damage, along with that the doctor recommended Simon wears a leg wrap when he goes to sleep or on days that are particularly tough. He also recommended you apply for a blue badge (UK equivalent of a handicap placard for your car) which can take up to 3 months. Although you would still consider it very early to be regularly sleeping next to your partner, it made Simon so much more comfortable, and you could monitor him every night, because a small part of you was worried to leave Simon alone at night, not wanting him to experience that kind of pain again.

Simon woke up right at five, and based on all the noise from your living room, which is what truly woke you up, the other guys were also up. So you helped Simon up and into the dining room even though he grumbled about not needing help the whole time, although he made no moves to remove your hands from his biceps and chest. There you were tiredly cooking breakfast for the 4 giant men in your house, just utterly confused how they could be so energetic and talkative after just waking up. Breakfast went smoothly, the other guys started packing up talking about how they needed to get back on base, Simon had been fine both physically and emotionally even while they talked about work, but it was one passing comment Gaz made right before he left that Simon silently reacted to “ya know lieutenant, we always joked about starting and leaving the military after ya, never would I ever ‘ave thought you'd be first to leave the job” he was silent, none of them knew the comment had affected him, but you saw the way he shifted, the way he was a little more quiet after that. 

Once they all made their way out, you went and sat next to Simon on the sofa “Simon, you okay?” he just brushed you off looking the other muttering something about being totally fine, now of course you weren't going to take the answer, so you moved to his other side where he was already looking, but that didn't work he just looked away again, so you did the next best thing. You sat straight on Simon's lap, staring right into his eyes as they grew wide. “Now Simon, are you okay not being on duty any more?” Simon let out a deep sigh knowing he couldn't keep ignoring you  “Gaz is right, I never planned to leave, I've got nothing to do with my life, and if you weren't m’nurse i'd be completely lost” you cupped Simon’s face forcing him to look you back in the eyes “Simon, i'm not just your nurse, i'm also your girlfriend, well future wife as you put it” that comment brought a smile back to his face “which means you already have one thing to look forward to, I’m sure I can help you find another” Simon just pulled you into him, bearing his face into your neck, just so happy with his choice.

You guys spent the rest of the relaxing and trying to find a hobby Simon would like, it was now almost dinner time, and you guys had nothing. You were worried about this but Simon didn't seem to mind that you guys haven't found anything, just happy he got to spend the whole day talking and laughing with ‘his girl’ when he got a call from Soap, “hey this is gonna sound weird but, ya want a dog” Simon was genuinely so confused, and shocked he didn't have an answer, you walked over putting the phone on speaker before asking Soap to repeat himself “I know it's random, but we got a military dog that needs to retire but doesn't have an owner, so I thought id ask if ya wanted a buddy, y’know” you were just as shocked as Simon, but you saw an opportunity, so you convinced Simon to accept, and tomorrow morning a new dog would be dropped of right into Simon's lap. 

tags- @piconico17 @just-lilita @madsdawson @silversfavfics @enfppuff @solazoro @sirbonesly @roastyyytoastyyy @the-disaster-in-waiting @lonjitas @squishytap @gays6968 @sunndust @dreamland08 @sweetpeakarolinaaa @marcysbear @alfiestreacle @bxm-2121@goldyghoul  @itsanemu0101 @wolverineswaifu @crempuffie @ohdrey89 @cucurucho-amargo @avalkyrieofparis @castellomargot @cmbghost @strawberrygato @blueladys-world @goodsoup19 @pinkylouise @creepzeyecandy @tessakate @identity2212 @callmytherapistplease-blog @witchblossoms @carolb111  @iiriam  @berryjuicyy @bmtillerbabe @stoned-anime-babe @junitries @harrysthiccthighss @lucienofthelakes @urmomsgirlfriend1 @rexythebitch @milanriol @cryingpages

[zaynesmissus]

𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐒

tags : ❄️ fluff. reader is on her period and has cramps. est. relationship. 694 words. a/n : i am yearning for zayne sb esp bc im on my period ☹️ just a short one bc i miss my hubby. hope u guys like this!

"You've been sitting on the sofa for a while now. Are you okay?" Zayne calls out as he walks towards you from the table where papers were scattered. He was reading them while responding to emails on his laptop. It's been like this since yesterday since he suddenly decided to work from home, said it was for a change of pace and to rest since he's had a lot of surgeries lately, but here he was, taking care of you on your period.

"Could you rub my stomach for me?" You winced as even little movements makes the cramps more painful. Finding a comfortable position was easier said than done.

He offers an assuring smile before slowly sitting down beside you. Lifting his hand, he places it on your lower abdomen and starts moving his hand in a circular motion. "Does this pressure feel okay?"

Nodding, you close your eyes and lean back to give him more access. "Thank you, doc." To which he quietly chuckles at the nickname.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure to give your service a 5-star rating."

The comment makes him smile fondly as he nodded his head. "Much appreciated, Miss. However," his hand stops its movement as he gazes at you intently, moving closer as his other hand goes up to tuck stray strands of your hair before his face cupped your cheek, thumb gently stroking your skin as he whispered, words sprinkled with the sweetest of honey and the warmth of the afternoon sun, "My services are reserved for only one person."

His words were followed by a kiss that felt like clouds hugging you. It wasn't like a rush of adrenaline, but more like being wrapped up in a warm blanket on a cold morning, makes you want to stay and never leave. His lips lingered, and to be honest, you wished it stayed longer, like snoozing your alarm for 5 more minutes; you both could never get enough.

But he knew. The time apart wasn't long though because he came back quicker than he left. And once you were both satisfied, you thought it was done. He had other plans.

He was determined to warm you up with his lips which moved to your chin, then your cheeks, followed by the tip of your nose, and finally your forehead.

"I'm not complaining, but what's this for?"

"I know I was focused on work for quite a while. Consider it as my compensation." Smiling, he fixed your blanket and continued rubbing your abdomen.

This made you grin. "Any kind of compensation from you is always welcome. But, you didn't have to. You are working from home after all. Besides, you're already doing a lot for me." Looking down, you slightly pout.

He sighs with a small smile. "How many times must I remind you it's okay to depend on me? In fact, I encourage you to." Gently holding your chin, he makes you look up at him.

Seeing your eyes, he could see a mix of emotions, but what stood out was shame.

It's as if he was scared that a shift in the air could cause a spark and create an explosion, he whispered ever so gently as he held your gaze with so much gentleness and love that you almost cried from how safe it felt to be with him. "I want to do this. I'm happy to do this, so please let me take care of you. What kind of doctor would I be if I can't even take care of.. the most important person in my life?"

It's probably your hormones going haywire, but something deep down tells you that's not the case of why you shed a tear of two from his words, heart bursting with gratefulness, love, and affection for this man. Your man.

Laughing while you cry, you just nod frantically, but Zayne wasn't that convinced yet. "Or am I going to have to use my power and authority, and give you a 'Doctor's order'?"

Now shaking your head, you chuckle while sniffling. "No need, doctor. I tend to disobey those, and this order is something I very much want."

© zaynesmissus — do not steal, plagiarize, translate, and/or repost my posts anywhere

[live-laugh-lenney]

hi love! I’m obsessed with the way you write🤍 just wanted to make a little request if that’s okay! (Totally optional) I just had in mind how sweet and romantic it would be if George was having a terrible day (for any reason) and he’s down and gloomy about it, but the reader (a friend of his) takes care of him and makes sure he’s okay and long story short they fall in love and end up doing it on his couch while Arthur and Chris are away. I was honestly just craving something soppy, sweet and smuttyyyy 🤍🤍

summary; george has had a bad day and yn tries to cheer him up... with a house to themselves, anything was on the cards.

word count; 4.6k.

** warnings; smut (almost from the beginning), unprotected sex, female-receiving oral, sickening fluff and confessions towards the end, MINORS DNI **

so this was going to be something that was going to be short and quick but... well... it's ended up being quite long and i'm really pleased with how it turned out. it's been a few weeks in the making (ever since the prompt came in) and i hope i've done it some justice because i think the friends-to-lovers trope has to be one of my favourite stories to write... it turned out a little different to what was written as the prompt but i hope i managed to, at least, follow it to some degree. i have so much going on right now, in terms of writing, that i'm all over the place and have no schedule to which i'm following but i'm really in deep with my george feels right now and i'm desperate to get as much stuff out for him as possible to feed into the feelings. let me know what you think! enjoy! x

"what's the long face for?"

"huh?"

she pokes at his cheek with her finger in an attempt to entice a smile from him, one of his teeth-bearing grins that had his eyes crinkle up from amusement, but her hand is met with a gentle shove. pushing her arm away from his face, her fingertip lingering in the air, and yn can't help but roll her eyes at how he must been feeling sorry for himself over something silly that had happened.

"you're being a proper grump today, aren't you?"

"m'not," he folds his arms over his chest and focuses on the telly that was playing an old episode of doctor who, something he would only watch when he needed to forget about a tough day and wanted some comfort in a tv show he had already watched, "i'm not grumpy."

"tell that to your face then."

he rolls his eyes heavily.

truth be told, he was grumpy and he knew that she knew he was so there wasn't any point in trying to hide his feelings. yet he just didn't want to speak about what was causing his upset.

he'd heard through the grapevine that a brand trip was coming up for a large brand that he'd worked with during his early days of content creation, where they were getting the majority together to celebrate a milestone for this said brand, yet his invitation hadn't been seen in the post or through his emails nor through his management.

evident to him that he wasn't one of those included.

and it was silly of him to get upset because he could fly himself out to wherever they'd gone and have, himself, a holiday of a lifetime... he just felt a little left out. and he definitely wasn't going to let his best friend know of that.

"are you missing your boyfriend?"

"what?"

"sorry, i meant to say boyfriends. plural. boyfriends with an s."

"did you come over to annoy me or did you come over to actually keep me company tonight?" george asks and, for the first time in a long time, he looks over at her and she can see the glum look in his eyes, "because if it's the former, i'm not in the mood for that."

"oh," yn frowns heavily, retracting herself from being snuggled into his side and folding her arms over her chest, "okay."

there's a heavy silence that swallows the both of them.

an awkward and tense silence, that made the atmosphere thick and unbearable, with the conversation between the characters on the television being the only thing to fill it. she can feel his eyes burning holes in the side of her head but she refuses to look at him... his tone felt off with her and she didn't want to make it any worse.

"yn..."

her eyes stay focused on the television but she can feel his body move beside her, mirroring how she was previously sat beside him, his body weight shifting the pillow beneath her as he closed the gap between them.

and she tried her hardest to keep her eyes on david tennant as he ran on the screen with some make-believe monster chasing behind him, focusing her attention on anything but the man beside her

"yn, i'm sorry."

"i'm just trying to make you feel better, george. you don't need to bite my head off or push me away and hope i'll leave you alone to wallow in your self pity," she bites back at him and he turns his upper body to face her, arm resting on the back of sofa and he propped his head up with the palm of his hand, "i get you don't want to talk about what it is that has pissed you off. cool. fine with me. but i just wanted to let you know i was here."

george's face softens as he looks at her; whilst she watched the telly, he was watching her. the way the light of the television screen caught in her eyes, the way her cheeks had darkened in colour, the way her eyebrows were pinched together in annoyance at him. he straightens his arm out and his hand cups the back of her head, thumb stroking the strands of her hair in delicate motions, and he can see how she's fighting the urge to lean into his touch.

"don't be mad at me."

silence.

"yn, please. i said i was sorry, please don't be angry with me."

he caught the lingering side-eye that she gave him and a smirk toyed at his lips.

"i'll get on my knees and beg for you not to be mad at me, if i have to," he states and the hollow of her cheek became a dimple as she chewed on the flesh inside her mouth, "oh, i see how it is. you want me to beg, don't you?"

the cushions move beside her and she's jostled around as he stands himself up from the sofa and, suddenly, a wave of cool air replaces the heat from his body that he emitted. the television being hidden behind his body and he adjusted the t-shirt that had ridden up his body and had become untucked from his jeans. and she really can't look away from him when he's kneeling before her.

she tries to keep the annoyed look on her face... except... it was hard when he knelt down in front of her, hands flat on her thighs, with a look in his eyes that held a lot more than apologies.

"please, stop ignoring me. i can't deal with it," he whispers, his eyes are level with hers and his orbs are a darker shade than normal, and she can sense her own mirroring his demeanour, "i need you to look at me, i need you to talk to me, i need you to stop being so annoyed with me because i'm an idiot."

his fingers were dangerously close to a zone that would have her like putty in his hands, melting into the cushions around her, completely at his disposal.

"jesus christ," he grumbles lowly, like he needed a pep-talk with his mind to confess what he needed to say, "i need you, yn."

her throat goes dry, her stomach doing flips, and she tenses her legs so tight that he must have felt a change under his palms as they sat on her thighs. a gulp filling the silent room. she couldn't work out the meaning behind his words, the look in his eyes nor how the room had changed into something hotter and more suffocating.

"what?"

"don't tell me you don't feel the same," he murmurs quietly; and she would have scolded herself and called herself a fool if she shook her head in response to him, "i can see the look in your eyes when you look at me. the way you tense in the palms of my hands. i'm far too comfortable around you now, yn, so whatever is going on here then i'm down for it. whatever it is that happens. i'm game, if you are."

she painted a look of dumbfound on her face as she continues to look at the television screen, pretending not to have a clue on what he was insinuating, because she wanted to hear him say it. loud and clear. because that would be the final pull of the rope to unravel the knot that was forming in her gut.

"what do you think is happening?"

"you tell me," she whispers softly, her attention still purely on david tennant as he pressed the buttons on the console of the tardis on the screen, "you can't be mad at me and push me away then act like you want me, george. that's what dicks do. you're playing around and that is not okay."

"i'll show you what a dick can do," he taunts titillatingly and her eyes widen as his brash statement, "let me show you. you clearly need a refresh on how good a dick can be."

and, for the first time after their mini argument, she looks him dead in the eyes and her breath catches in her throat, his thumbs stroking at the fabric of her gym shorts - that she wore for comfort and lounging around - but a little too close to the heat between her thighs. the way his eyes were burning holes in her face from how intense his stare was upon her, the feeling of his hands on her thighs becoming much heavier and even harder to ignore, and she was crumbling before him with every second that passed.

with each second that passed, the silence between them became almost unbearable and she was getting hot as she sat before him on the sofa, not an inkling of movement coming from her as she felt his hands slowly, almost achingly, glide up her thighs and cup her hips.

"will you let me show you?"

she nods tentatively; what the hell was happening?

the night had started out as a cosy evening in george's flat, since both chris and arthur were away for separate events that seemed to fall at the same time, in front of the television with some takeaway on the coffee table and a bottle of wine being shared between the two of them, as she gave him company whilst he was feeling low. so she wasn't expecting the night to take a complete turn just a couple of hours in.

gulping back the thick lump in her throat as she felt his fingers make their way into the waistband of her shorts, pushing up on the soles of her feet so he had it easy to pull the material from her lower half, a tingle tickling up her spine at the cool air that hit her warm skin as well as the heat that had formed a dampened patch in the crotch of her knickers.

"shouldn't it be the other way around?"

he shakes his head and slots himself between her legs, wrapping his hands around her calves and pulling on them to have her lower on the sofa, his face becoming eye-level with the one crevice of her body that he was craving to dip his tongue into. allowing her legs to hang over his shoulder, her heels colliding with his back as they hung loose behind him, and the position brought a twitch to his already hard cock.

"but you're the one who's had a bad day," she insists, his fingers being ever so delicate as they freed her bundle of nerves from the material of her knickers, "it should be me making you feel the way you're making me feel right now."

"and how am i making you feel?"

"you know exactly what you're doing to me, clarkey," and her breath catches in her throat at the feeling of his warm breath hitting her moistened folds, "i want to make you feel like this."

"how do you know i don't feel the same?" he questions her, her scent being enough to bring flutters to his belly and making him almost burst in his tracksuit joggers but he was determined to wait until the right time to bring out his build-up release, "you drive me crazy."

"i want to make- fuck," there's a harsh shiver that runs up her spine before goosebumps rise on the surface of her skin, her fingers gripping into the sofa cushion beneath her once she felt his tongue lick a stripe between her folds, the hair on his upper lip dragging across her neat and groomed mound but the hair of his beard tickling at her inner thighs as he devours her core, "christ, clarkey."

her words on enticed him further.

the tip of his tongue flick at the bundle of nerves, his soft lips wrap follow in suit, suckling and flicking rhythmically as he held her hips in place. her hands finding their place in his hair, pushing back his fringe as she curled her fingers into the soft strands, gripping tight with each and ever jerk she wanted to give out from her hips. her head rolling back against the cushion behind her, eyes squeezed shut, her knees tensing and her toes curling in her socks as they hung over his shoulders.

he removes a hand from her hip, keeping one firm to her waist, and he brings it down between her legs, pulling away briefly to allow time for a breather but he wasn't about to stop for a moment. his thumb being magnetised to her nerves, rubbing slow figure-of-eights in a gentle yet consistent motion, fingers teasing at her entrance. and she was desperate to feel his fingers deep within her, brushing over the spots that would have her writhing and crying out for pleasure.

"what do you want me to do? tell me," he croaks, his lips damp from a mixture of her pre-release and her juices and he looked delectable and drunk on the taste of her, eyes heavy and hooded, "what do you want?"

"your hands," she begs, looking at him through hooded eyes and the eye contact was enough for her to melt into the sofa. and he wastes no time in sliding two digits into her, his eyes barely leaving hers as he watches her face contort into an absolute state of pure ecstasy, "fucking-"

he smirks at the sight before him and watches as her head rolls back, smug written across his features because he had her like jelly in the palm of his hands, the sounds eliciting from her driving him to continue with the same pace and the same motions because it was clearly making her satisfied.

"clarkey, i-" she whines out loud, the sounds coming from between her thighs sounded sloppy and wet and he could tell she was on the verge of releasing the built-up pleasure that was ready to burst from within, "-i'm gon'a-"

"go on," he coaxes her, quickening the pace of his wrist in hopes it got her to her climax quicker because he was desperate for a release of his own, his hardening length throbbing more intensely behind his joggers, "come on, darling. i know you want to come for me."

and that was all it took, along with the quickened pace of his wrist and the way his fingers curled up and hit the spot within her that made her writhe around, for her to release around his digits. her walls clenching, unclenching, tightening around him with a string of pure profanities rolling off her tongue as her hands grip tighter at his hair.

"george-"

he shushes her softly.

his name sounded broken as it left her lips and in that moment, as she lay in her post-climax state before him, he just wanted to drink her all in. her hair was slightly messed and knotty from the way her head had rolled back constantly through her pleasure, her knuckles were white from the grip she had upon the strands of his hair, and her eyes were glossy and the stare she held upon him was dark and there was a hint of neediness deep within. his fingers were sweet enough to cover her up, delicate as they touched her skin, and he could feel the shaking of her limbs as she worked through the last bit of her orgasm.

"you're so pretty," he whispers, removing his hand from her hip and he brought it up to her cheek, caressing the skin softly as he swipes his thumb beneath her eye to collect the moisture that had dribbled from her eye, "so pretty when you come."

she smiles lopsidedly and he moves away from her, her legs flopping to the floor and her feet land with a thud on the carpet, watching him as he manoeuvred from the floor to the sofa beside her, an evident reaction that wasn't well hidden by the bagginess of the joggers on his lower half.

"your turn?" she asks him with a grin that sat cheekily on her mouth, sitting herself up and twisting her body to look at him, "let me repay the favour."

"i don't think i can wait any longer," he says lowly, almost like a growl that came from low within his chest and he watches her intently as she pulls her hair back and ties it into a messy bun to keep it from getting in the way, freeing up and exposing her neck and the stretch of skin between her collarbones and her ears, somewhere he wanted to hide his face and leave marks behind to let people know she was a taken women... even though, truthfully, she wasn't. her fingers went quick to his joggers and he offers her a helping hand, pulling them free from his waist and kicking them off, leaving only his boxers to keep little to the imagination, "a blowie can wait, darling. i don't think i can stand not being deep inside you for another second."

"but-"

"next time," he promises her and she wants to frown, she wants to pout, and she wants to get upset over how she couldn't repay the favour to him... but when he frees his cock from the tight constraints of his boxer shorts, watching as it twitches at the chill in the air and bobs free, all the upset feelings seemed to disappear. a hungry and needy feeling forming in her gut as she watches him jerk his length a few times before he offered his lap to her, "c'mon. i'm getting cold over here."

she swings a leg over and hovers above his hardening cock, hands resting on his shoulders, his fingers slide the crotch of her knickers across and she slowly lowers herself down.

"clarkey, what are we doing?"

"we're just having some fun," he tells her and she gulps back the lump in her throat that had formed at the anticipation and how it had dawned upon her just what was happening in that moment, "right? you, uh- you do want this?"

she nods erratically, "more than you know. i just- i don't know."

because thinking about george and how he would treat a woman in bed was all she could think about sometimes. laid in bed with her mind running wild as she teased herself. thinking about just how much she wanted to be that lucky lady who got to share the bed with him, the one who was lucky enough to see him in his post-sex haze, the one who was lucky enough to feel the pleasure and satisfaction that he had to offer.

but there was some guilt that sat deep at the back of her mind; they were best friends. she shouldn't have feelings for him. and she hated how those feelings brought out all kinds of emotions when it came to him. jealousy whenever she saw another woman talking to him or touching him in a way she wanted to, upset when he came home with news of a date he had set up with someone off of a dating app but happiness when they didn't pan out so well and he chose to give up for a while, lust when he was looking a little too good for a night out, and desire to be the hopeful one he went home with.

he had a hold on her and she hated not knowing if he felt the same.

she lowers her hips down, his hand guiding the tip of his cock across the entrance between her folds, yet another shiver travelling up her spine. she'd wanted this for so long, so had he, yet neither of them were about to admit to that. and she could feel the burning stretch as she welcomed him in, her release from moments ago adding enough slip for him to glide in without any need of a thrust of his hips. his hands cupping her backside, a palm on each bum cheek, and that was all it took for her to sink down and feel her thighs flush against his own.

"it's all on you. you control the pace," he shudders as he speaks and she nods softly, forearms resting on his shoulders as her hands come to play with the curls of his mullet at the back of his head, "whenever you're ready."

it didn't take her long before she was pushing up on her knees and grinding her hips in circular movements on his cock, his legs tensing and his fingers digging into the flesh of her bum, leaving behind tiny crescent-shaped indents from where his fingernails were gripped to her skin. his head rolling back, eyes closed, revealing the adam's apple that was bobbing in his throat from each thick gulp he took as he tried to contain the moans and groans that were threatening to spill from his mouth.

not that he had any reason to be quiet.

they had the flat to themselves with arthur and chris being away yet the thought of someone being able to walk through the front door and see the sight before them of yn sat so beautifully upon his lap, well... it was enough to keep driving him on. the thrill of being caught was enticing enough.

his moans were guttural with every movement she made and she needed him to be more vocal, wanted to hear how happy he felt, she needed something to spur her on. the way he filled her up, stretched her in the most pleasurable way possible, had her emotions at an all-time high and she didn't want it to end. his hands were on her hips, barely moving as she did most of the work, only acting as support for when her legs got a little too tired.

"you feel so good," he groans through gritted teeth, his eyes soon opening and falling to the soft mounds beneath her t-shirt, trained on the way they bounced with each up and down motion she made on his cock, wanting nothing more than to bury his face between them and call himself 'at home', "god, you're so good."

she grins in response, feeling herself clench tightly around him, eliciting a hiss from his mouth at how he wasn't expecting to feel it. the sounds of their breathing being drowned out by the sloppy sound coming from between them as well as the sound of the bare skin of their thighs slapping together with each ride.

and they weren't sure if it was because the moment was so good and highly anticipated but neither one of them wanted to hold on for much longer. his fingers digging into her bum, yet again, as he tried to hold back on his release... but it was becoming increasingly hard when she teased him by clenching around him.

"if you wan'a-" she gulps back the dryness of her throat and he nods, barely able to make a sound as she drags her hand down his clothed chest and made fists in the material, "i need to-"

"if you go, i go," he entices her, "let go if you need to."

and that was all it took for her to break apart on top of him, her hips and her once-rhythmic motions becoming a little off and he could feel her walls tightening as she rode through her orgasm, her head thrown back and her hair falling loose from the messy bun she'd thrown it into just prior to their sensual activity, hands tightening on her bum to keep her from falling backwards and into the empty takeaway containers on the table. her fists still holding tight to his tee.

and he was soon following suit.

white hot euphoria rippling through his insides as he spurts strong jets of white release into her, tensing his thighs and thrusting his hips upwards to paint the entirety of her insides with his orgasm. reaching spots that had her whining out from being overstimulated, her legs shaking and her eyes watering, his own becoming glossy.

"bloody hell," he croaks, a tired laugh escaping through the heavy panting leaving his chest, "that was-"

"clarkey, i have no idea how you aren't fucking on the regular," yn says as the words come out staggered and drawn out from the heavy pants coming from her chest, "what's holding you back?"

"not a what, it's a who."

"pardon?"

"who's holding me back, that should be the question," he looks at her and hopes she understands just what he was hinting at; post-sex had him softening, almost like it was an outer-body experience because he had no control over the words falling from his mouth, "i think i'm falling in love with someone. it's a who holding me back, not a what."

"oh."

the guilt settled in her stomach and it felt for her to be sat on his lap, his release dribbling from within her as his cock was sandwiched in between their bodies, her arms loosening around his neck and she wanted to lift her head from his chest. but his arms stayed tight around her middle, holding her close, feeling how she'd tensed up at the mere thought of there being someone else.

of course there was someone else.

george was an insanely attractive man with a good sense of humour and a way with words that would drive any woman crazy. if so much of a glance went in their direction, they would turn into a puddle on the floor with how his gaze held so much intensity behind it.

"it's you, you muppet," he confesses into her shoulder, dragging his fingers up and down her spine in a soothing manner, "it's always been you, yn. there's not been a single day that goes by where i haven't thought about being with you in the way we've been together tonight. i don't know what i was thinking when i told myself to wait before i did anything stupidly quick in making you mine."

she pulls away from him, enough to be able to look him in the eyes, his breath now back to it's usual rhythm yet somehow, her's seemed to get quicker. the hold he had upon her was one that was tight, like she would do anything he asked her to. his eyes were hooded, he was sleepy-looking, and she really revelled in the way post-sex looked on him.

"i'm so glad," she breathes out a shaky laugh and her fingers twist softly into his hair, "i don't think i'd be able to look at your after tonight and know there was someone else you were thinking about."

"does this mean-"

"yes," she interrupts him, almost immediately, "it's always been you, clarkey. i've been waiting for you to make a move so i didn't ruin what we had between us. i value you too much to ever lose you to anyone else over something so... juvenile."

"oh, you wanted me to ruin our friendship?" he asks with a smirk on his lips and she frowns at him, eyebrows pinching together, "i'm just glad you feel the same way or else this," he motions between the two of them and it was only then that she realised how close both of them really were... his cock no longer erect but was still glistening from both of their releases and she was still radiating heat that he could feel across his thighs, "this would have been very awkward."

she pushes his chest with a heavy palm and rolls her eyes, only to have him wrap his hand around her wrist, pulling her back to his body and she nestles her head back into the crook of his neck.

"whatever this means, whatever happens next between us, we'll take it slow. we can just enjoy each other without the heaviness of being a couple just to see where we want this to go," he suggests and she nods in agreement, "but this night? it's not going forgotten."