#and I haven’t gotten good sleep for the past week

[paperlignes]

I want to make gifs and crochet and think about nandermo but I gotta work instead 😩😩😩

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 19: Daddy Issues

Summary: Your pack is back home, but things aren't quite as good as you try to make them seem. Some truths get revealed, while others remain in the dark.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 9,337 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares, '09 Ghost's backstory, mentioned abuse/child abuse, still pretty heavy emotionally, language, finally some of the comfort after the hurt, plenty of fluff

A/N: This stupid fic making me cry again. I may have lied about this one not being quite as heavy as the others...it's still pretty heavy, but there are some sweet moments in there too. There is a bit of a time jump in the middle, it's roughly a week long or so. Not much, but it does cut ahead a bit just for the sake of plot and moving things along. Also yeah, I got it done earlier than expected.

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You’re warm. Sweat has begun to form in the creases of your body. You’re wrapped around something solid, something contributing to the intense warmth. The smell of leather and eucalyptus fills your nose as you nuzzle your face against soft fabric. It sends a shiver down your spine despite the heat, your eyes fluttering open. You’re staring at a blurry mass of black fabric, your brain beginning to catch up as you become more and more aware. 

Leather. Eucalyptus. Something distinctly alpha. 

Fuck. 

You’re spooning Ghost. 

He has to be asleep, otherwise he would never let you get so close to him. He would have shoved you off, pushed you back towards Johnny, who you’ve traded places with in the middle of the night. You must have gotten too hot sandwiched between the two betas and tried to escape somewhere cooler. That led to you spooning with Ghost, not that he’s much cooler than the betas. 

You can get away before he wakes up, remove yourself from his personal space before he realizes and forces you away. Avoid the shame and embarrassment of his rejection, his anger at you for crossing that boundary, even just in your sleep. Despite the fact you know that boundary is there, despite the fact you did it unintentionally, you’re not sure you could handle such a rejection right now, even from him. 

You slowly begin to withdraw your arm from around his middle, sliding it back towards your body. If you go slow enough, you should be able to untangle yourself from around him without waking him and avoid a confrontation. 

A quiet gasp is pulled from your lips as his hand wraps around your wrist, keeping you from moving. 

“Don’t.” He says quietly. 

Your heart is thudding in your chest as he tugs your arm back around him, keeping you where you are. Your exhale is shaky as you slowly relax, pressing your face against his back again. You’re not sure what to do. You were expecting him to push you away, get up in disgust and leave because you got too close, you pushed past the barrier he had placed around himself when it came to you. A barrier that got let down only while you’re training, then it’s put right back up as soon as you’re finished. Now here you are, spooning him after sleeping in the same room, the same nest. 

You wouldn’t have taken him for being a little spoon type. 

Your eyes begin to droop again as you lay there, breathing in Ghost’s scent. It’s like a comforting blanket, lulling you into a sense of relaxation, of safety, something you haven’t felt in days. For the first time your mind is quiet, not panicking about what happened, or what could happen. You don’t have to worry about your pack now, because they’re here with you again. 

You drift off to sleep again for a while, sleeping soundly in the cocoon of safety your pack has provided for you. 

You wake a while later, sticky with sweat. Your back is pressed against Ghost’s, and there’s something draped across your face. You push it away, blinking your eyes open. Johnny has starfished across the nest on his back, his mouth open as he snores. He’s stolen your bear, one arm holding it against his chest, and the other arm had been what was draped across your face. Kyle is curled up on his other side, having moved from the middle to the far side of the nest. John is missing, making your brows furrow. 

You push yourself up to sit, the air in the room almost like a sauna. You rub your eyes, trying to blink away the sleepiness. That might have been the best sleep you’ve gotten since your heat. It was likely the exhaustion taking its toll, paired with your brain finally being able to relax while surrounded by your pack.

You feel like you could lay down and sleep for another ten hours. 

You’re warm, though, sweat causing your clothes to stick to your skin. The blankets have all been kicked to the end of the mattresses, likely ditched early on in the night. You wiggle out of your sweatpants, kicking them off the end of the mattress as well, leaving you in a baggy shirt that you think is Johnny’s. 

You feel suddenly exposed sitting there, your eyes flicking around the room as a chill runs down your spine. John would have noticed if something was out of place, but he could have just brushed it off as you in his room. He had given you permission to be in his space while he was gone, if you needed to. One of them would have noticed if things were out of place in their rooms. Ghost would likely notice, since you haven’t been in his room at all. 

You lay back down on your back, staring up at the vent on the ceiling. The cover is in place, and no matter how hard you look, you can’t see a camera hiding in the gaps. It doesn’t ease your worry any as you stare up at it, wishing you had your phone so you could at least try to look for one. Though, perhaps it was better you didn’t have your phone with you. You hadn’t been brave enough to pop it open and look for anything strange hidden inside, though you wouldn’t even know where to begin to look, or what to look for. 

You should tell them. What if someone is watching you right now? 

You flinch as John appears in the doorway suddenly, five water bottles tucked against his chest. Your skin is crawling from the thought of someone watching, someone listening in on such a private moment with you and your pack. You hadn’t even thought about it last night, the stress and your fear had taken over your mind. You push yourself back up to sit as John passes Ghost a water bottle, handing one to you as well. You unscrew the cap as John places the other bottles on his desk. Johnny and Kyle still asleep, unaware of the world. 

Unaware of the danger. 

A cold shiver slips down your spine as you gulp down the water. What if someone had entered the barracks last night? You weren’t in your room, and the door wasn’t locked. Anyone could have just walked in and put up cameras again easily. 

One of the guys would have heard someone snooping around, right? You were so out of it you likely would have slept through one of them getting up. What if they were also so exhausted from their deployment they could have slept through someone breaching their space as well. Did Ghost lock the door last night? You can’t remember. 

“Alright, sweetheart?” 

Your head snaps up to where John is leaning against his desk. His brows are slightly furrowed as he stares at you, and you realize you’ve been projecting your scent. With them gone, you didn't have to worry as much. You could stink up a room without a care. It just meant more protection for you. Now that they’re back, though, you have to be more careful. You can’t just go panicking over nothing, not that you should have to panic while they’re here. 

That’s their job, right? Protect the omega? 

They can’t protect you if they don’t know there’s a threat in the first place. 

“Yeah.” You say, gulping down more water to think up an excuse quickly. “Thought I might be dreaming for a moment, that you didn't really come back.” 

John approaches you slowly, kneeling down on the end of the mattress with a quiet sigh. He has to be sore after their deployment. You can tell just by the way he’s holding his shoulders, by the stiffness in the way he moves. You can’t even begin to imagine the kinds of things they did, the kinds of things they went through over the last week. 

John takes your hand, pressing it against his chest. He’s warm underneath the shirt, and you can feel the steady beating of his heart under your palm. “We’re real.” He says, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as he holds it against his chest. “We’re really here.” 

You stare at his hand where it covers yours. You’ve seen it before, many times. Scarred and rough with calluses. His knuckles are dry and just slightly bruised. Did he punch someone? Or maybe he hit it against something else. 

His hand moves, snapping you out of your thoughts. You fight the urge to flinch as he cups your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “You’re thinking too much.” 

You swallow thickly. “Well, I didn’t have much to do this last week besides think.” 

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “We’ll try to make life more interesting for you, then.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now, let’s get these two muppets up for breakfast.” 

He pushes himself back up to stand, staring down at Johnny and Kyle, still sleeping. You shift onto your hands and knees, crawling over to Johnny before swinging a leg over to straddle his stomach. You lean forward, planting your hands on either side of his face, his breath catching as he begins to wake up, sensing a disturbance. You stare down at him, watching his eyes flutter before they crack open. The haze of sleep leaves his blue eyes, clarity coming back to him quickly as his lips begin to lift in a grin as he stares up at you. 

“Didnae expect tae wake up to such a sight.” He says, voice thick with sleep as his hands come to rest on your bare thighs. “A beautiful woman on top of me? I must’ve died and gone tae heaven in my sleep.” 

“Even better,” You say, leaning down closer. “Because I’m real.” 

“That ye are.” He says, slowly dragging his hands up your legs, pushing the shirt up as he goes. 

Ghost pushes himself off the mattress, leaving the room so quickly he nearly knocks his shoulder against the doorframe. A frown pulls at your brows as you watch him go, slowly pushing yourself back up to sit on Johnny’s stomach. Guilt starts to well up in you as you stare at the empty doorway. You hadn’t meant to make him uncomfortable. 

“Don’t mind him, kitten.” Johnny says, pushing himself up to sit, sliding you backwards into his lap. “He’s still miffed he didn’t get a greetin’ yesterday.” 

“Oh,” You say, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t even thought about greeting Ghost in that moment. You had been so desperate for your alpha, and then swept up by the betas, it hadn’t even crossed your mind to acknowledge Ghost. “I didn’t-” 

“It’s not yer fault.” Johnny says, wrapping his arms around you. “He hasnae been the most...open with ye. It’s his own damn fault for it.” 

“Oh, well, I’ll be sure to give him a big hug when he comes back in.” You say. 

“Please do.” Kyle says, rubbing his eyes where he’s laying next to you. “I’ll pay to see his reaction.” 

All three of you burst out laughing, Johnny pressing his forehead against yours. “Missed ye, kitten.” 

“Not as much as I missed you.” You say, pouting. 

Johnny chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. His hands slide to your hips as he presses another soft kiss to your lips, and then another. 

“Let me get in on some of that.” Kyle says, pushing himself up to sit. He grips your chin in his hand, turning your face to his before pressing his lips to yours. 

His kiss takes your breath away, deeper and more passionate than Johnny’s had been. You hum against his lips as Johnny’s grip on your waist tightens. 

“Christ almighty.” Johnny breathes, staring at you and Kyle as you kiss. 

“Alright, you three.” John says as the air in the room starts to turn musky with arousal. “Let’s feed our omega first before we get too carried away.” 

Kyle pulls away from you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. 

“Can we...eat in here again?” You ask, wrapping an arm around Johnny’s shoulders as you turn slightly to look up at John. You had almost forgotten about his presence, caught up in the attention from your betas. The thought of him watching the three of you has a different kind of thrill racing down your spine. 

“Of course.” John says, bending down to kiss you. 

Both Johnny and Kyle groan at the sight of their pack alpha kissing you, Johnny’s cock twitching in his boxers beneath you. You press a kiss to Johnny’s cheek after John pulls away from you before pushing yourself up to stand. You stretch your arms over your head, the shirt riding up a bit, giving both Kyle and Johnny a good view of your legs. The musky scent of arousal intensifies in the air as they stare at you, Johnny licking his lips hungrily. 

“Alright, get out of here you cheeky little minx, otherwise they’ll never get out of bed.” John says, gently guiding you from the room. 

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as you leave John’s room, stepping out into the hallway. It’s much cooler outside of the room, goosebumps forming on your legs. You have half a mind to go back to your own room, but you find yourself unable to even approach the door. Memories of the fear and your panic come flooding back, the thought that someone might have snuck inside, someone might be waiting for you in there snapping to the front of your mind. It’s a ridiculous thought. Someone would have noticed if there was an intruder, if there was someone who shouldn’t be inside creeping around. 

Your gaze flickers from your door as Ghost makes his way down the hallway, his clothes changed from what he’d been wearing to sleep in. You bite your lip as you stare at him, meeting his gaze. Perhaps it's the fear driving you forward, or maybe you’ve gone slightly crazy in their absence, but you find yourself approaching him, making him stop in his tracks. 

He eyes you as you approach, your steps quick as you try to avoid chickening out. Your mind is repeating Johnny’s words over and over in your head, an explanation for Ghost’s behavior yesterday, and obvious annoyance at you and Johnny this morning. You wonder if he’ll take it as a threat as you get closer to him, if he might snap and defend himself. He’s completely still, not even his chest moving. He’s watching you like a predator watches its prey, waiting for your next move. 

It’s like hugging a tree as you wrap your arms around his waist. He’s stiffer than a board as you hug him, resting your face on his chest. Leather and eucalyptus and musk all float around you as you press close to him, his scent enveloping you in a hug, even if his body doesn’t follow suit. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. 

“Hugging you.” You say, tightening your hold around him. You’ve been this close to him before in your training, but this feels different. “I’m sorry for not greeting you on the tarmac. I wasn’t really thinking clearly at that point.” 

He lets out a quiet sigh, something you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so close to him. You can imagine it’s a sigh of exasperation at Johnny for spilling about his feelings. “It’s fine.” He says, awkwardly patting your back. “Don’t know why you would have wanted to.” 

“Well, you are part of the pack.” You say. “That should be enough reason.” 

You nuzzle your face against his chest, his scent going straight to the back of your brain. Your omega wants to roll in it, cover herself in it until it’s all you can smell. The intensity of his scent has something in your hindbrain purring, the sound rumbling through your chest. 

Ghost puts his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back from him. You blink up at him blearily as your mind begins to clear a bit with the distance. “At least put some pants on before you completely lose it.” He grumbles. 

A small smile tugs at your lips before it falls at the thought of having to go into your room. You turn to face the door, your vision almost tunneling as you stare at it. You don’t want to open it. You don’t want to go in there. 

“Ghost?” You say quietly before he can walk away. 

He turns to look at you, his eyes squinting just slightly as he frowns. “What?” 

“Will you...will you open my door for me?” You shift your weight, knowing he’s going to want a reason, an explanation for your behavior. 

He turns fully to face you, shoulders squared as he slowly approaches, suddenly on the defensive. “What is it?” 

You shake your head. “Just a feeling.” 

He steps between you and the door, wrapping his fingers around the handle before he swings it open, scanning the inside. His shoulders relax just slightly and you let out a breath of air. There’s no one inside. No one’s waiting for you. No one broke in last night. 

He takes a step back before turning to you. “Nothing.” 

You let out a sigh of relief, staring into the space that was once your nest, your safe place. You can feel Ghost’s eyes on you, waiting for an explanation for your behavior. You can’t tell him the truth, despite how easy it would be. You could confess right now, admit to what happened, what you did, the mistake you made. You could drop to your knees right now, beg for forgiveness for what you did. 

“It was hard...while everyone was gone.” You say. It’s not a lie. Not entirely. “Made me uneasy, being alone here. Kept thinking I was hearing things.” 

He doesn’t believe you. You can see it in his eyes. He knows your lying, he knows you’re withholding the truth from him. You aren’t, you just aren’t giving him the whole truth. You had felt lonely, you had been on edge even before General Shepherd arrived and your room was bugged. Being alone was hard. Harder than you thought it would be. It would have taken its toll on you, even without the stress of your space being invaded multiple times. 

You should have told someone. You should have called Dr. Keller right away. You should have never opened the door in the first place. 

“Thank you.” You say, slipping past him and entering your room. 

He stands there for a few breaths, watching you warily as you open your closet, looking for something to wear. You ignore him, acting like he’s not there, but you can’t hide the squaring of your shoulders, the stiffness of your movements. You’re not sure you could resist if he pressed, if he tried to force you to tell him. You’d spill immediately, even without him using his alpha against you. 

The thought has another chill racing down your spine. 

Your omega is on edge as you change with the door open, not caring as the guys move around, getting dressed to head out to grab breakfast for everyone. You hate how inconvenient it must be, but you still don’t think you could handle being in the mess. Not yet. Not so soon. You’ll have to eventually, otherwise they’ll think something is up, happened, and then they’ll start questioning. 

You couldn’t handle an interrogation. Especially not their disappointed and angry faces when you confess to what you did, the mistakes you made, how you allowed someone to walk in so easily. How you left so easily with a stranger. They’d never trust you again. 

They won’t trust you if you keep things from them either. 

They have to know. They have to know General Shepherd came to base and talked to you. They have to know about you meeting their superior while they were away. A high ranking General couldn’t just be on base without someone knowing, and why would he hide it? He had come to check in on your progress and how you were settling in with your pack. He would have included your pack in that questioning as well, right? Besides, there has to be cameras everywhere on base. Someone would have seen you and let them know. 

There’s no way they don’t know about it. 

You stand in the doorway of your bathroom, staring at the cabinet where the broken cameras and recording devices are hidden. They’re broken, you ensured that. They’re hidden away, buried under enough stuff no one could find them unless they were purposefully looking for something. 

You let out a breath, trying to relax as you finish your morning routine. It’s over. There’s nothing that can be done now. All you can do is try to move on, try to mend the fraying bonds with your pack, heal the sense of fear and unease surrounding your safe space. 

Maybe Dr. Keller could help. You could admit everything to her, everything that happened while she was supposed to be watching you. If you had just gone to her office that afternoon, perhaps things would have been different. She would have known, but that wouldn’t have stopped the cameras from being put up. It would have just made it easier for them. Maybe they might have finished the job properly, and you wouldn’t have even known. Even if you had called Dr. Keller, what kind of argument could she have made against a Commanding Officer? 

If you told Dr. Keller now, she’d tell your pack. She’s promised to keep everything between you confidential, but would something like this be an exception? Would she tell your pack anyway because she thinks it’s the best course of action to help you? 

You want to cry. Tears are welling in your eyes as you stare in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself. You look tired, strung out, sickly almost. Are you not, though? Is that not how you feel? You know omegas can get sick from stress sometimes, if it gets to be too much. You don’t want to get sick. You don’t want to be more of a burden than you’re already being. They have to be so tired after their assignment, and here you are making things harder for them. 

“You alright, love?” 

You jump, letting out a shriek as you whip around to face the door of your room. Your heart is racing as you slap a hand over your mouth, staring wide-eyed at an equally surprised Kyle. You let out a breath, slowly lowering your trembling hand as you try to calm yourself. It’s just Kyle sneaking up on you. Not a stranger. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” He says, brows pinching in a frown. 

“‘S okay.” You murmur, turning off the light before leaving the bathroom. “Was lost in thought.” 

“The others left to grab food.” Kyle says. “They’ll be back shortly.” 

You nod, trying hard not to make your trembling too visible, or give any hint at your discomfort. “Okay.” 

You stare at him as he leans against the doorframe. He hasn’t entered your room. He’s still standing in the doorway. The thought has a lump forming in your throat. Your bonds have frayed so much he doesn’t even feel comfortable entering your space anymore. There’s a wall up again, and you’re only forcing it higher and higher. 

“Come on.” He says, holding his hand out to you. “Let’s go to the rec room.” 

You take his offered hand, letting him pull you from your room. The door clicks closed behind you as you let him lead you down the hallway and away from the place that’s become fuel for your nightmares. 

Kyle sits down on the couch, pulling you down on his lap. You wrap your arm around his neck as he wraps his arms around you, enveloping you in his warmth and scent. 

“I’m sorry for startling you.” He says softly, bringing your other hand to his lips so he can press a kiss to your wrist. 

“It’s not your fault.” You say, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Been on edge since everyone left.” 

“I bet.” Kyle leans his cheek against the top of your head. “We’re here now. We’re gonna fix that.” 

“What happens when you have to leave again?” You ask. 

“You won’t be alone again, that’s for sure.” A different voice says. 

You nearly jump out of Kyle’s lap as John appears in the doorway of the rec room, Johnny and Ghost right behind him. Kyle’s arms are the only thing keeping you steady as your heart nearly beats out of your chest. You’re not sure how much more you can take, intentionally or unintentionally. 

“I spoke with Kate this morning.” John says as he sets the food he’s carrying on the coffee table. “We’re going to do everything in our power to avoid having you left alone again. At least one of us will be staying behind with you from now on.” 

Your brows pinch a little. Is that why he had been absent from the nest earlier? You’re not quite sure what to feel. On one hand you’re relieved at the thought of not having to be alone again, but on the other hand, you don’t want to disrupt their lives, their jobs. You wonder just how hard he had to fight to even get Kate to agree to something like this. 

You also feel a bit afraid that they know, they figured out what had happened and that’s the reason they don’t trust to leave you alone again. You’ll make another stupid mistake or another risky decision that might cause you actual harm next time. 

Kyle eases you off his lap and onto the couch beside him. Johnny sits on your other side, squishing you between them as a tray is passed into your hands. You don’t feel very hungry as you stare down at the food, but you know after a meager dinner last night, you need to eat. You won’t be doing you or your pack any favors by being hungry. 

It’s quiet in the rec room as you eat. It’s almost eerie how silent it is, aside from the occasional scrape of silverware on the trays. You begin to float back into the time when they were gone, the haunting silence that had settled over the barracks in their absence. Everything had seemed so still, not peaceful, but more like the very walls were holding their breath. 

Perhaps it was in anticipation for what was to come. Perhaps somehow the very walls knew they would be beached, the safety they once promised would be upended. 

Or maybe you’ve just gone crazy. 

You shift forward on the couch, careful not to tip your tray over as you grab the remote from the coffee table, turning the TV on. 

“Finally! I couldnae handle the silence much longer.” Johnny exclaims, letting out a relieved sigh. 

The corners of your lips pull up in a smile as you pass the remote off to him, letting him search for something bearable to watch on early morning TV. You’re glad at least you weren’t alone in your distaste for the silence. You curl up closer to Gaz, reminding yourself that it’s not a dream, that they really are here. They really did come back. 

Now you just have to move on and put the nightmare of what happened behind you. 

As the days pass, things begin to return to normal. The guys start their normal routine of training and running drills almost immediately. To avoid being stuck in the barracks alone, you ask to go with them, blaming it on the distance and your need to be clingy still. At first you were afraid someone would take advantage of the barracks being empty again, but every search has come up empty handed. No more cameras, no more recording devices. 

Whoever it was who planted them must have given up, or perhaps the risk of doing it with the entire pack back on base was too high. 

Despite this fact, you spend the least amount of time in your room as possible. Even when you can’t go to watch them train or run drills, you spend your time in John’s room, or in the rec room. At night you rotate between John, Kyle, and Johnny, opting to sleep with them over spending a night alone in your room. 

As you discussed, you begin seeing Dr. Keller twice a week. You’re not quite sure what she told John to convince him it was necessary, but whatever it was, it hadn’t given away any of your secrets. It probably hadn’t taken much to convince him to say yes, given your current state and his worry about you. 

You know he’s worried. You can see it when he looks at you, like you might snap if he stares too hard. You’ve seen the way his hands twitch when Johnny holds you too tightly or gets too rough in his affection, like he’s worried you might shatter.

It’s reassuring to see the distance has not just affected you. Johnny holds you tighter than he used to, Kyle stands closer to you like he’s trying to fuse you both into one. Even Ghost has started hovering closer, using his hands to steer you and guide you when you’re around others that aren’t part of your pack. 

You’ve started eating in the mess again, knowing you can only avoid it for so long before they’ll start getting suspicious and asking questions. You still feel paranoid, being around the other soldiers on base. You can’t help but be suspicious that it was one of them that planted the cameras, that it was one of them that tried to get into your room that night. Who would willingly breach such sacred ground and invade an omega’s space like that, you couldn’t even begin to guess.  

Sure, some of them still stare at you, but most of them now ignore your existence. You’re no longer a spectacle, not after a few weeks on base, not that you’re a claimed omega now. 

That won’t stop some alphas. 

Going up against your pack, though? That would take one hell of a cocksure alpha. 

Just like the one that invaded your safe space. 

It had to have been an alpha. Sure, that beta soldier had entered the barracks, but to go so far as to put up cameras and try to come back and get into your room? That takes a special kind of audacity, something only an alpha could possess. 

So life has gone back to normal, or at least as normal as it can be after what happened. 

The return to normal hasn’t all been good, though. Your nightmares have returned, coming on quickly as soon as you began to settle into routine again. The real nightmare has passed, so now your mind has to plague itself with nightmares that have already happened. Things that can’t even hurt you anymore. 

You start avoiding sleep again, despite your work with Dr. Keller, too afraid to risk having a nightmare in front of one of them again. The last thing you need is to have to spill about your nightmare. You might not be able to stop and wind up spilling about what happened while they were gone too. 

Unfortunately, things don’t work that way. They never work that way for you. 

Someone is screaming. Your body feels like it’s being constricted by a snake, crushing and painful as you’re clutched desperately against your mother’s chest. She’s the one that’s screaming, the sound hurting your ears. Your face is pressed against her shoulder, into the softness of her sweater. It’s the pink one, the one she made. Her favorite. 

There’s knocking coming from somewhere, a door handle jiggling. It’s locked, but you can hear someone trying to get in, multiple people based on the voices from the other side. You don’t know who it is. You don’t recognize any of them. You can’t even make out what it is their saying, if they’re saying anything at all. The voices sound more like the unintelligible roar of monsters, the ones you used to be afraid of as a child. 

Everything is muted by the blood pulsing in your ears, drowning out everything but the jiggling of the door handle. Someone’s trying to break in. Someone is breaking in. You can make out the thuds against the door, the desperate attempts to get inside, to get to you. 

The arms around you tighten, pressing your face harder into the soft yarn of the sweater. You inhale the familiar scent of brown sugar and vanilla, the scent surrounding you and enveloping you in a sense of safety. Nothing can get you. Nothing can hurt you. 

That’s not true, though. You know it’s not. 

There’s a bang as the door is finally forced open, the screaming getting louder as footsteps enter the room. You’re shaking, trembling in your mother’s arms as she clings to you desperately, just like you used to cling to her when you thought there was a monster under your bed. 

The monsters were real, you realize as you desperately cling to your mother, just as tightly as she’s clinging to you. 

Hands grab at you, claws digging into your skin, tentacles wrapping around your body, trying to pull you from your mother’s grip. You can hear her pleading, begging, screaming at them not to take you, not to separate you. You’ll never see her again if they manage to pull you from her. They’ll take you away, hide you away, keep you from the warm comfort of her embrace. 

You let out a scream of your own as you’re yanked from her grasp, your arms reaching for her as the monsters pull you from the source of your safety and comfort. The last thing you see is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door slams in your face. 

A scream tears from your lips as you’re pulled from sleep suddenly. You’re falling, hitting the tile floor with a thud. Your shoulder cracks against the unforgiving floor, making you yelp. The blanket has tangled around your legs, rendering you immobile from the waist down. 

The frantic pounding of boots on the floor meets your ears, seconds before the four members of your pack are sprinting into the rec room. Their faces look just as frantic as their steps had been, concern laced with fear laced with worry. You hadn’t even realized they’d returned already. They had been at their afternoon drills while you stayed in the rec room watching TV, slowly succumbing to the exhaustion that’s been plaguing you. 

“What is it? What happened?” Kyle asks, moving to step forward but John beats him to it. 

“Fell off the couch.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit, wincing at the pain in your shoulder. There’s tears sliding down your cheeks despite you fighting the remnants of your terror and pain from the nightmare. 

“I think there’s more to it than that.” John says, kneeling down in front of you. 

You want to confess everything. How you haven’t been sleeping well for weeks now since your heat, how you keep having horrible nightmares about your past, what happened while they were away, how the nightmares have returned. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at John, the tears sliding down your cheeks as you give up trying to control them. Guilt plagues you as you stare at the worried face of your alpha. He just wants to help you, he just wants to take care of you, but he can’t if you’re keeping things from him, if you’re lying to his face. 

“I had a nightmare.” You say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You clutch your arm to your chest, trying not to move your shoulder too much. 

John lets out a quiet sigh, his fingers lifting to press against your shoulder, feeling around the joint. You wince as he hits a tender spot, the pain sharp, but not horrible. You’ve certainly felt worse things. 

He turns to the others behind him, all of them staring at you with equally worried looks on their faces. “Get me an ice pack.” He says before turning back to you. 

He lifts you off the floor, placing you back on the couch before untangling the blanket from around your legs. Johnny grabs an ice pack as Kyle moves to sit next to you on the couch, draping his arm across the back, projecting his scent to try and help you relax. John sits on the edge of the coffee table, staring at you. Despite the worry still present on his face, his eyes are sharp. You can’t help but feel like you’re suddenly in an interrogation. They’ve done this before, probably many times, though likely not as gently as they are now. You’re terrified still at the way they shift so easily into the mindset of a soldier. You can’t even imagine what it would be like if they were serious in their interrogation of you. 

“How long have you been having nightmares?” John asks as Johnny takes a seat on the other side of you, passing you the ice pack. 

You press it against your shoulder, trying to keep your thoughts straight. You have to try not to spill anything, try not to confess to all of your sins, all of your stupid mistakes now. Your gaze drops to your lap, avoiding the looks of the two alphas staring at you. Ghost has moved to stand behind John, his arms crossed as he watches the exchange. You can feel the pressure of their gaze, the sharpness of it digging into your skin like knives. 

“A couple weeks.” You admit, unable to even think of a lie. You don’t want to lie now, not with them staring at you so intensely. They’d know. They’d be able to tell before the words even left your mouth. “Since my heat ended.” 

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding sleeping?” John asks. 

You wince at his question. Of course he noticed. Why wouldn’t he? He’s been trained to notice weaknesses in others, gauge the capabilities of his men. Of course he’d notice you’re more tired than usual, not sleeping quite as much. He probably even knew all the times you woke up in the night when you slept next to him.  

You nod, still staring at your lap, too afraid to see the disappointment in his eyes. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He breathes, almost sounding upset. 

You’ve made a mistake in keeping this a secret. You regret it as soon as you hear the emotion in his voice. He thinks you don’t trust them, he thinks you don’t trust your alpha. You need to tell him. You need to tell him everything, but the fear keeps you paralyzed. How much more upset will he be when you confess that you kept such a major event from him, from all of them? 

A quiet sob leaves your lips as you sit there, terrified of the reprimanding you’re sure to get. The shame burns hot in you, the reminder that you’ve disappointed them. You’ve let them down and now they won’t even trust you to tell them anything. 

“We’re not mad at you, sweetheart.” Gaz says, shifting his arm so it’s wrapped around your shoulders, his thumb brushing the hand that’s holding the ice pack to your shoulder. Johnny shifts just slightly closer to you, both of the betas projecting their scent around you, trying to cocoon you in their comforting presence. 

“I just want to know why you felt it necessary to hide something like that from us.” John says, his voice softer than it had been before. 

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You find the words spilling out before you can stop them. Maybe it’s the exhaustion or the fear or your brain finally getting tired of holding everything in. This is your moment to let out a little steam, to finally release some of the pressure that’s been building. “My nightmares are nothing compared to the ones you all probably have and it’s stupid and I shouldn’t even be having them, it’s been years since the last time I dreamed like this, and I don’t even know why they’ve come back now.” 

“No nightmares are stupid.” Ghost says, stepping up closer to the coffee table. 

“We’re here to help you.” John says, leaning his elbows on his knees. “We can’t do that if you don’t tell us what’s going on.” 

Guilt burns through you at his words. He’s right. You should be honest with them, tell them everything. They can’t help you, they can’t keep you safe even from the things that plague your mind if they don’t know about them. 

“What are the dreams about?” John asks, blue eyes boring holes into you. 

You feel small under his gaze, like you're a child again, facing down your father after doing something wrong, after making a mistake. You have made a mistake, though. You’re facing the consequences of your mistake right now. 

“The day I left for the institute.” You say quietly, voice hardly more than a whisper but you know they heard you in the silence of the barracks. It feels threatening, like the walls are silently vowing to tell the truth if you don’t. 

Your pack shifts a bit at your words, sharing looks amongst themselves. They have to know what it’s like, or at least heard stories about the trauma of being pulled from your pack to be taken to a strange place, surrounded by others just like you. 

“What happened that day?” Ghost asks, staring down at you. 

You can feel his gaze piercing into you, screaming the silent threat that you’re going to tell them, no matter how long they have to sit here and wait. You don’t have a choice anymore. You have to tell them. 

You’re warm. The ice pack pressed against your forehead does little to soothe the burning under your skin. You’re thirsty, the two empty plastic bottles on your nightstand were not enough to ease the dryness in your mouth. 

Hands shift the ice pack, pressing it against your cheek. Your mother is there, seated next to your bed diligently. She’s crying, tears sliding down her cheeks, quiet sniffles breaking the silence in the house. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, bringing your hand to her lips. “I’m so sorry,” She apologizes, as if it’s her fault, as if she brought this onto you. 

She gasps quietly as the door opens, her back stiffening as your father enters. His face is stern, mouth almost twisted with disgust as he stares at you. It feels wrong, having him invade your space. If you’d had the energy, perhaps you would have been brave enough to protest his presence. 

“Come on.” His voice is gruff, worn down from years of smoking and yelling. “Get up.” 

“No, please-” Your mother attempts to reason with him, but he won’t have it. 

“Shut up and sit down.” He snaps at her, and she has no choice but to sit back and be silent. His voice has something tingling in the back of your neck, almost like a warning. There’s nothing you can do, though. You’re far too weak. 

He moves to the side of your bed, grabbing your arm and pulling you up from the comfort of your blankets. The ice pack falls from your head, your skin prickling with warmth almost like it hadn’t been there in the first place. Your brain is sluggish as you try to comprehend what’s happening, your legs giving out as you’re forced upright. You can’t get your body to work, you can’t even force yourself to behave. You want to crawl back under your blankets and lay there for the rest of eternity. 

You whine as you’re dragged from your room, knees knocking on the floor as you attempt to get your feet under you to ease the pain in your shoulder. Your father drags you into the living room, two people you don’t recognize standing next to the front door. 

“Please, please don’t do this!” Your mother pleads with him, right on his heels as he drops you in a heap in front of them. He catches her before she can rush forward to you. How you wish you could have her arms around you again, holding you and comforting you in your confusion. 

“Enough.” Your father snaps at her, looking down at you with disgust. “She’s no daughter of mine.” 

You blink up at him, the words seering through the haze, registering in your foggy mind. Tears gather in your eyes as you stare up at your parents, your siblings watching tensely from the living room as the scene unfolds before them. 

“No, no!” You cry as hands close around your arms, lifting you from the floor. “Mama!” You scream, trying to fight them as you’re pulled from your home, your safe space, your family, your pack. 

Your mother is yelling, fighting against your father’s hold around her, but it’s useless. He’s stronger. He wants this, so no one is going to stop him. She’ll pay later for her actions, her disagreement with him. You won’t be here to see it, though. You’re leaving and you won’t be coming back. 

The last thing you see as the cool air outside washes over your feverish skin is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door closes, locking you out forever. 

You’re dragged into the back of a van parked in the driveway. Two men in uniform climb in behind you before the doors are slammed shut. You curl up in the corner, sobbing uncontrollably. You want your mom, you want to be back in the safety of her arms, the warmth and comforting softness that only she can provide. 

One of the men approaches you, a needle in his hand. You whimper in fear, pressing further back into the corner as he gets closer to you. He forces you down onto your stomach, the pain brief as he injects you with the sedative before he moves back to take his seat. You curl up in a ball, quietly sobbing as the drugs begin to work, your vision going hazy before you’re forced into unconsciousness. 

“I woke up hours later at the institute.” You say, wiping at the tears streaming down your cheeks, but it does little against the cascade of tears falling from your eyes. “Never saw or spoke to my family again. They didn’t even try to reach me, and I know my dad was the reason why. He hated me as soon as I presented.” 

“Fucking hell.” Ghost breathes, hands curled into fists at his sides. You can smell the intensity of his scent above everything, the burning ozone of anger rolling off of him. It makes you wince, even though you know it’s not directed at you. 

“That’s why he wanted to send you so quickly.” Kyle says, his arm tightening around you. 

“How did he get you into FIOT so soon after your presentation?” John asks. 

You shrug your good shoulder. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know he’d be sending me, much less so soon until it was happening.” 

“Christ,” Johnny breathes, gently taking your hand in his. “No wonder yer havin’ nightmares, kitten.” 

“I haven’t had this nightmare since I arrived at the institute. They started there, lasted a few weeks while I adjusted to being there.” You sniffle. “Haven’t had them since, until now. Dr. Keller says it’s because I finally feel safe enough to process the trauma of it happening.” 

John sits up a little straighter. “Is that why she suggested seeing you multiple times a week?” 

You nod. “We’re working on it. I asked her not to tell you, because I did plan on telling you eventually.” 

“I’m glad you told someone, at least,” He says. “And I’m glad you finally told us too. We might not be able to stop the nightmares, but at least now we can help support you in whatever way you need.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” You say, squeezing Johnny’s hand slightly. He was the only one that knew you were having nightmares, but you hadn’t even confessed to him what was going on out of fear he’d tell the others. 

“It’s alright, sweet girl.” John says, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad it finally came out and now we can help you.” He wipes the tears from your cheeks, his thumb brushing your skin gently. 

The moment is broken as your stomach growls impatiently. It’s past your normal dinner time, your confession having kept you longer than you thought it would. You hadn’t gotten in your afternoon snack either, your body having chosen to nap instead. 

A small smile tugs at John’s lips. “Hungry, love?” 

You nod. “Yeah. Didn’t get my snack.” 

“We’ll go get some food and bring it here, how does that sound?” He asks. 

You nod. “Yeah. That sounds good.” 

He pushes himself up to stand, his knees cracking as he does. You fight the urge to say something, squeezing Johnny’s hand tightly. 

“I’ll stay.” Ghost says, still looking at you. 

John looks down at you and you meet Ghost’s gaze for a moment before nodding. John presses another kiss to your head, Johnny and Kyle pressing kisses to your cheeks before they get up, leaving the rec room to get dinner for everyone. 

Ghost moves from his spot on the other side of the coffee table, sinking down at the end of the couch. You fight the urge to stare at him in surprise. You’re not sure you’ve seen him sit anywhere but in the chair the entire time you’ve been here. 

It’s silent between the two of you for a few moments, aside from the occasional sniffle from you. You wipe the remaining tears from your face, removing the melted ice pack from your shoulder, tossing it on the coffee table. This feels very familiar to you, this position. You’ve been here before, back when you punched the asshole alpha who insulted you. 

“My dad was a real asshole.” 

You turn your head slightly in surprise when Ghost break’s the silence suddenly. He’s not looking at you, his gaze distant, far away. You know that look well. You’ve seen it on him before, and also on a few omegas at the institute. You’re sure it’s graced your face as well many times. 

“He was a trad alpha, real piece of shit who couldn’t control his anger. Took it out on all of us. My mum, my brother, me.” He scoffs. “Mum took the brunt of it, but Tommy and I faced our fair share of it too. He used to bring dangerous animals home and taunted us with them. Made me kiss a snake once. He did all kinds of horrible things to us.” His voice softens a bit in a way you’ve never heard before. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable, not even when he told you about his own nightmares. “I’ve never wanted an omega, because of the things my dad did to my mum. I never wanted a pack either, but...maybe something deep down in me did because I said yes to this whole experiment.” 

The silence hangs heavy between you for a moment. You’re not sure what to say, or if you can even manage to say anything in response to what he’s just told you. You had no idea what his life was like growing up, except that he was also a purebred. 

“I was always too afraid the cycle would continue, that I’d turn out to be another piece of shit, just like my dad.” He says. 

“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit.” You say, your voice cracking a bit. 

He huffs out a breath. “Thanks.” He stares down at the coffee table, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Did your dad ever hit you?” 

You shake your head. “Never directly. He got rough sometimes, grabbing us, squeezing too hard, yanking us around. He never stopped my brothers when they got too rough, though. They liked to wrestle, and I wanted to join because I wanted to spend time with my cooler older brothers. Sometimes they’d forget I was smaller than them and I got hurt a couple times. He never reprimanded them when it happened. I think he enjoyed it more than anything. He mostly just yelled a lot.” 

“Trad alphas only speak the language of yelling and violence.” He says. “If my father wasn’t screaming at us, his fists were getting the message across. Sometimes he’d do both at the same time.” Ghost shakes his head. “Real pieces of shit, trad alphas. Makes me sick, the kinds of things they believe in.” 

“I’m sorry about what happened to you.” You say, fishing for anything to follow up his confession with. Nothing feels right, nothing feels like enough. 

He shrugs. “It happened. It’s in the past. He died a few years ago. Left nothing but a stain behind.” 

“What happened to your mom and brother?” You ask. 

“Tommy got into drugs for a while, but he cleaned up and got married. Mum lives with him now. Still doing well.” He says. 

You’re surprised by his words. You’ve always heard that omegas don’t last long without their alphas. But what if their alpha was an asshole? Is the relief of their death enough to scrub out the grief of losing your alpha? 

You stare at the side of Ghost’s head, your heart thudding in your chest. You feel sorry for him, but at the same time, you’re grateful he shared this with you. You have much more in common than you thought you did with the giant aloof alpha. Maybe, perhaps, this can be a way for the two of you to grow closer, maybe you finally have common ground that you can share with him to get him to open up to you more. You know he wants it. The revelation of his disappointment at your lack of greeting, and the fact he let you hug him is enough to tell you he wants something more with you. It might never breach the realm of romance or even a casual fling, but you can’t deny the bond is there. You can feel it, the tugging in your chest as you look at him, the butterflies in your stomach when he puts a hand on your back to steer you through the crowd in the mess. 

You want him to want you. You want him to open up, to peel the layers back and bare his very soul to you. He’s already started. This confession is the beginning of that kind of bond between you. That he trusts you enough to tell you this makes something flutter in your chest. 

If only he knew you were keeping something worse from him. 

You could tell him. Confess to him right here, right now. Spill it all in this sort of mock confessional, this mock therapy session between you. He’ll be mad, but perhaps after everything that’s transpired today, he’ll be lenient. You’re not sure you could say the same about John, though. 

“Ghost, I-” You start but he cuts you off. 

“Simon.” 

“What?” You breathe, blinking in shock as he turns to face you. 

“My name. It’s Simon.” 

NEXT ->

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[dwaekkicidal]

Sharing is Caring [3: HyunLix]

˚ʚHyunLix x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Hyunjin and Felix take after their leader, using their way to push your body just far enough past its limit.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 4.4k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, mxm mentions before the 1st divider, ot8 x reader mentions, chris x reader fluff in the very beginning, 'baby girl' and 'princess' used (1) time each, threesome, rough sex, mentions of chan/chris x reader and filming+sharing the video, hard(?)dom hyunjin, soft dom lix, overstimulation, filming, fingering, squirting, yellow from the light system is called (1) time, p in v (be safe about it irl), oral (f and Hyun receiving), spanking, slight aftercare mentions, that should be all?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: we dont talk about how late this is lol. Also sorry if the plot parts seem rushed >< I didn’t know what else to fluff it up with but there was already so many words so i left it as is lol

Sharing is Caring Masterlist

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Chris’ hands roam up and down your back as the two of you lay on the couch in his dorm, you settled between his legs and draped lazily over his torso. His chin pokes at the top of your head as he strains himself slightly to look down, eyes sparkling with nothing but admiration and love. You stare up with a similar expression, a small smile taking over your features as the TV show is long forgotten.

“I’ve missed this.” His voice comes out hushed and quiet as he tries to keep this moment private, not taking even the slightest chance to wake up his roommates. It was super late into the night, past 2 am if you had to guess, and this was the first time in weeks he had gotten alone time with you.

You smile a little wider and nod, resting your cheek near his shoulder as a hand comes up to rest on his cheek. “It has been a while. The boys have been throwing me between each other so I haven’t had any alone time with you. Let alone one on one time with the others-'' He laughs before quieting himself again, “Yeah… They really have.”

A comfortable silence fills between you two for a while after that until you notice that Chris is making a weird face, a cute one though. It’s the face he makes when he’s thinking about something really hard so you poke him a few times, tickling him in an attempt to get an explanation out of him. He smiles at you again and thinks to himself as if he is trying to find the right words. “How do you think I should go about trying to sleep with one of the other boys?” The question makes you perk up and you stare at him with wide eyes.

“Sleep as in… have sex with?” You laugh lightly before laying back down against his chest. “Is this about Han?” He bites his lip and looks up at the ceiling. “Yes and no? Uh… basically that first night we opened up the relationship, Han told me that he messes around with Felix sometimes. I’ve always been interested in Lix, but it's gotten worse lately. I just don’t know how to go about it…”

You massage his ear as you get lost in thought, tenderly rubbing the area there in an attempt to calm his nerves. “I mean… realistically, you could just be honest with him. I mean, this is Felix we’re talking about. I don’t think you could offend him or cross a line with him even if you tried.” He chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“If it would make you feel better, I can tell him that you want to talk about something and get the two of you some alone time. I can even distract the boys for you if you need it.” You both laugh and he nods in agreement.

He deems it bedtime not long after that, helping you to your feet before joining you on the short journey to his bedroom. Already being in your pajamas, you just throw yourself on his mattress and groan when he throws himself on top of you. Some giggles are exchanged before he normally lays on his back and pulls you into his chest, smiling to himself as you nod off.

“Good night, baby girl. I love you.”

It was around noon the next day when you woke up. You were used to the feeling of the bed being empty thanks to Chris’ tendency to leave early and head to the studio with the other two producers. However, today was a little different thanks to an unknown figure who throws themself on the bed behind you, wrapping their arms around you and whispering a deep “Good morning.”

Hyunjin walks into your vision and smiles sweetly, laying down in front of you and snuggling close to you. He shoves his face into your neck and places tickling kisses there as you come to your senses. Felix pokes his head out from behind you and pulls you to lay on your back before assaulting your face with kisses, causing you to smile and wiggle between the two of them. 

After a while of cuddling and sleepy kisses, the three of you eventually get up in order to get some food in your stomachs. As you all ate, Felix explained that everybody else was busy doing their own things and he was lonely in the other dorm, so he came over to spend some time with you and Hyunjin. Then, once everybody ate, Hyunjin dragged you out to the living room to hang out with them despite your pleas to go back to bed and nap, which is how you all ended up cuddling on the couch watching Felix play Tekken (and losing miserably).

The boys sometimes snuck you kisses between rounds, conversing with each other and updating you about the newest songs or choreos as well as any promotions you were unaware of. You could tell something else was on their minds though. Between matches Felix would nervously bite his lip and try to sneak his hand to his neck, checking the pulse while he and Hyunjin exchanged weird faces at each other. You ignored it at first, but once Hyunjin started fidgeting from his spot beside you, you finally made them spit it out.

Now… Both men were aware of how you could squirt. Hell, the whole group was! They all witnessed it themselves when a 3-minute video was sent to the group chat a week ago: the video containing your lower half with Chris’ fingers shoved deep into your cunt that spewed a waterfall towards him and his phone’s lens. They all admitted how insanely hot it was, but ultimately moved on from it and hadn’t brought it up again. These two, however, just could not get it out of their heads. More so, they wondered if they could get you to that point and wanted to experiment.

And that is unfortunately how you found yourself in your current situation. An hour later with both men on each end of you; Felix sitting up on his knees with your head in his lap and Hyunjin between your legs, holding them open as he ate you out like it was the last meal he would get his hands on. They had spent the first 30 minutes or so minutes on foreplay, riling you up in all your favorite ways before you were even given the chance to undress. And since then, they managed to pull multiple orgasms from your body in this same position. They insisted on making you squirt their way instead of Chris’; meaning they slowly relaxed you and your body with foreplay for as long as they desired before using meticulous movements to overwhelm you. 

“You can do it, love. You gotta make a mess for us so we can fuck you.” The deep voice in your ear pulls you back down to earth and you shiver in his hold when his fingers return to your nipples like they had before your last orgasm hit. You can only nuzzle your cheek further into his thigh, letting out pathetic moans as the onslaught between your legs continues. Hyunjin never once pulled away from you, instead mumbling his response against your clit while his fingers hooked themselves inside of you.

They could tell you were close again and they worked harder, desperately wanting to see you squirt with their own eyes, not through the pixels of their phones. You knew yourself that you were almost to that point, you could feel it in your bones, but you also weren’t used to the gentleness of things. Chris always bullied his fingers in you aggressively, though extremely pleasurable at the same time, so you needed a little something else to push you over the edge. And, somehow, the younger of the two was already way ahead of you.

One of his hands was removed from your chest and in the corner of your blurry eyes, you could see him reach for a thin black object. The sudden bell-like sound of a recording beginning was played right next to your ear. You blinked away the blurriness in your eyes and watched as Felix panned his phone down to Hyunjin’s face, zoning in on the tongue licking shapes into your clit. He then moved the phone right under your face and zoomed in, letting you get an enhanced sight of the boy between your thighs and making you moan loudly.

Your eyelids tried to flutter shut but you held them open, desperate to watch the enhanced image of your beautiful boyfriend’s face that was glistening from your juices. Hyunjin caught on fast and tried to rile you up more, teasingly staring straight into the camera lens and licking a long and rough line along your clit. You even got a short glimpse of his tongue literally dripping from your cum as he pulled away to reposition his tongue inside of you.

Felix takes the chance to remove his free hand from your chest and reach forward, rubbing his fingers messily around your clit. It was all too much. Felix’s phone pointing at you as he humps the air by your head and occasionally pinches your clit mixed with Hyunjin’s long fingers bullying against your g-spot all while his tongue curves at the very entrance of your cunt and while he stares up at you intensely has you overwhelmed in all the right ways.

Your head is thrown back as you moan pathetically at the feeling of you gushing. Your legs desperately try to close around Hyunjin’s head, but Felix removes the hand on your clit and drops the phone on the bed to wrap his hands around the underside of your knees, holding them to your chest and giving Hyunjin the freedom to continue bullying your cunt.

With your head thrown back against Felix’s thigh, you don’t get to watch as Hyunjin backs away slightly, moving the hand that was resting on your thigh to rub roughly against your clit in order to pull more from you as his shirt gets completely soaked. While he does this, his long fingers continue to curve upwards and dig into your G-spot.

"F-Fuck! Wait!!" You moan out a cry and shoot your arms down to push his hands away, only for his now-soaked hand to come up and take hold of both of your wrists. They hold you tightly like this, keeping you in place as they push your body’s limits. What feels like hours of begging passes before you genuinely feel like you’re gonna pass out. The amount of wetness that falls from you has lessened more and more as they continue, but it hasn’t completely stopped so you knew they would have kept going.

“O-Okay, okay! No more, p-please- Yellow!" In an instant, Hyunjin’s hands stop their movements and Felix loosens his hold on your legs, finally allowing them to slam shut as the aftershocks take over your body. Felix’s hands move up to your head, where he strokes your cheeks and coos at you. He lays down beside you and kisses your forehead, whispering sweet nothings in your ears as you come down.

“Haha.. you okay, pretty?” Hyunjin’s hands rest on your calves, soothingly rubbing the area there as he waits patiently for an answer.

“You… You guys are fucking d-demons…” you gasp out with shaky breaths. “Even Chris didn’t try to push it for that long.” Felix giggles, pulling away from your ear to nuzzle his nose against your cheek. “We gotta prepare you, baby. I know Seungmin really liked seeing you squirt. ‘Said he was gonna learn from Channie how to do it fast so he can do it to you himself.”

Hyunjin leans forward and places soft kisses on your calves, “It’s better that we got to you before he did. You know how he is.” Instantly images of your past experiences with the boy in question flood your mind, and you clench at the thought of his mean-ass in Hyunjin’s place. 

“Fuck.. Don’t tell me that... That’s so hot.” They both chuckle and continue to dote on you, even long after your body has calmed down and your breaths returned.

“You gonna let us fuck you now, baby?” Your eyes snap open at the deep whisper in your ear. You glance down and watch as Hyunjin silently studies your lower half, now shirtless and taking in every little detail as if he wanted to paint you. Hell. He probably is going to. Felix’s hands rub up and down your tummy as a silent reminder that he asked a question. “Mhm.”

“Gonna let me take care of you?” Hyunjin’s damp fingers draw shapes into your thigh with your release, trailing some of it to your hole where he dips a finger in experimentally. You whine in agreement and allow Hyunjin to flip you over, landing you on your knees as he pulls you up against his chest. You smile and lean back, relishing in the warmth he gives off. His hand reaches up and tilts your head sideways, allowing him to lock lips with you. He smiles into the kiss and his hands roam all over your body, occasionally stopping at your hips to give your ass a good squeeze.

He pulls away slightly and speaks while his lips ghost yours, “Ready, Princess?” You whine out an “mhm” and he slides his dick through your folds, pushing in after the 3rd swipe. Moans fill the room from both of you at the feeling of him pushing in and stretching your walls farther than their fingers. He pushes his lips against yours again, pushing a few more inches in before stopping to let you adjust. It doesn’t take long, thanks to their onslaught earlier, and he easily finds a comfortable pace to start with.

Though, that one is quickly thrown out the window when your walls start to wrap around his dick tightly. Out of nowhere his right hand pushes against your back, shoving you forward so you’re on your hands and knees as he speeds up. Your arms wobble as he continues to fuck you, and you end up completely missing the dip in the bed in front of you. It’s not until Hyunjin’s big hand wraps into your hair and angles your head backward that you notice the pretty boy sitting in front of you.

It’s an uncomfortable angle, but Felix quickly distracts you by pushing his lips against yours. His right hand lovingly settles on your cheek as Hyunjin fucks into you, getting rougher with each passing second. Eventually, Felix pulls away, settling against the headboard again as he strokes himself sluggishly to the sight of you getting fucked.

Once he’s sat, Hyunjin takes the chance to go even deeper, now pushing your face into the sheets as he pounds into you roughly. Your hands clench the sheets and try to push your torso back up only for him to grab your arms and hold you down. His hands position on your upper arms and he uses some of his body weight to hold you down, keeping you still for him as he continues to fuck you open.

He goes deeper at this angle, faintly pushing against your cervix while simultaneously ramming into your G-spot. And when he’s fucking you this good, barely giving you time to think, your orgasm sneaks up on you all too easily. Tears fall from your eyes against the sheets and your legs shake as he drags another orgasm through your body. Your moans become choked as he continues to hold you down. He feels you cum around him and, thankfully for you, the clenching around him was all he needed to finish.

Your tight walls milk him dry as he rides his own orgasm, using you like a fleshlight while he does so. He moans loudly and thrusts sharply a few more times before slowly pulling out. Your body reacts with an aggressive shiver and he giggles, placing a kiss on your ass as his fingers try to soothe your arm in case he was too rough.

You’re thankful for it and it feels great, though it leaves your mind soon after due to how watery your brain has become. All the orgasms have started to catch up to you and your whole body feels like mush. You’re nothing more than a blob melted into the sheets as your boyfriends’ hands run all over your body. The only slightly grounding thing that pulls your mind back to earth is the deep voice that rings in your ears.

“How are you, baby? Talk to me.” You look up to see Felix hovering over you, face scrunched in concern. You chuckle at the sight of your boyfriend and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down into you and placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “‘M good, I promise. My body jus’ feels like putty right now.” You giggle again and he finally relaxes, leaning forward to place kisses along the tear streaks on your cheeks. 

Despite the sweet moment you share with your boyfriend, your worn-out body craves for more. One of your hands unwraps from his neck and rakes down his back, digging your nails into the skin there playfully. Then, the hand still around his neck wraps into his hair and tugs it lightly. He moans into the kiss and unintentionally bucks his hips against yours, growling as he pulls away. “Baby…”

You hold back a laugh and peck his lips, pushing him over and flipping your positions so that you’re straddling his hips. His still-hard cock is sitting directly under your crotch and you teasingly grind against it. He sighs happily and his eyes flutter shut for a moment and his hands reach out to grab your hips tightly.

“Can I ride you, Lixie?” His eyes snap open and he nods desperately. He dives a hand between you and grabs his base, angling himself upwards as you lift your hips. His other hand rests on your hip tightly and, once his tip pokes at your entrance, he pulls you back down into him. The slide makes you whine, still overly sensitive. But you’ll be damned if you’re not getting both men tonight.

Both of his hands rest on your hips, drawing circles into your skin there as you take deep breaths. You sit there for a while it seems because before you have time to adjust fully, a harsh slap is sent to your ass. You were caught off guard, not expecting such a powerful hit from the boy below you who tended to be softer with you. But then, you’re reminded that your other boyfriend was still in the room. The older man lands another smack, unhappy with your still unmoving form.

“What happened to wanting to ride him, Princess?” He wraps a hand around your torso, angling it up to wrap around your neck as his other rests just above Felix’s on your hip. He uses the grip there to start moving you, bouncing you up and down, albeit slowly at first. But you both know Felix doesn’t mind. Especially not when he has such a big smirk painted on his face.

Hyunjin continues fucking you up and down on top of Felix, occasionally squeezing your neck until you start to move on your own. Then he lets you go completely, causing you to fall forward and just barely catch yourself with your hands on either side of Felix’s head. You lose your rhythm for a moment, only for Felix to thrust up into you roughly as if to remind you what you should be doing.

His hands move down to your ass as you begin to ride him again, this time desperately chasing his orgasm as yours builds up fast again. You purposefully clench around him from time to time, thriving off the way he moans loudly and twitches at the feeling. Before you realize it, Hyunjin is kneeling beside you, pumping himself and looking at you with the sexiest smile ever.

However, you only get to admire it for a moment before his hand creates a makeshift ponytail in your hair and pulls you towards him. The new angle forces you to stretch a little and causes your hips to stop moving. They’ve pushed your body through so much in the last couple of hours, so you can’t help but lose focus all too easily. You can’t multitask and take care of them as much as you wish you could. So, you instead focus on sucking Hyunjin off and only grind your hips slowly against the man below you.

Felix whines, sighing loudly before lifting your hips a few inches. You’re not given any time to react before he plants his feet in the bed and starts to fuck up into you roughly. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your jaw manages to drop further. Hyunjin laughs, the push and pull between the two men becoming more entertaining for him than anything else. He decides it’s his turn now and tightens the grip on your hair, thrusting his hips slightly each time he shoves you down, making you deepthroat him and choke around his dick.

You sit still, pliant even, as you let both men use you as they wish. You’re so close and you trail a hand between your legs, amidst all the bullying your cunt is receiving, and rub your clit back and forth. You moan loudly around Hyunjin as you cum, your orgasm crashing down on you just as intensely as the other ones. Felix’s hips falter due to your persistent clenching catching him off guard. His hips slow to a complete stop as he revels in the feeling of your walls fluttering around his dick.

And, thankfully for you, Hyunjin finishes soon after you do., the vibrations from your moans sending him over the edge. He watches with furrowed eyebrows and parted lips as you swallow around him and his teeth catch his lip as he pulls you off, whimpering slightly at the way you suck harshly to get every last drop. His legs twitch when you especially suck his tip hard, and he huffs out a laugh.

“Can’t go one day without being a troublemaker, huh?” He laughs and places a kiss on your forehead before backing away, allowing the younger to chase his own orgasm. He disappears after that and, had you been paying close enough attention, you would have noticed the sound of the bathroom door opening.

But you can’t be bothered by that. Not when Felix is pulling out and flipping the two of you again. He shoves you onto your back, pushing your legs up and to the side. One arm rests on his forearm by your head as the other positions his dick again. Your eyes lock with his as he pushes in again, moans falling from both of your lips as he sets a fast pace right away.

The eye contact is held as he pummels into you. His eyes break away from yours for a moment as he leans forward and pushes his chest against yours. Messy kisses are placed along your jaw as his thrusts become sloppy.

You thought the previous orgasm was your last, but when Felix drags so nicely against your walls and shoves his tip so meanly into your already bruised G-Spot, another one sneaks up on you. Your eyes snap closed and your legs try to close around his torso as you squirt again, this time soaking your other boyfriend’s stomach.

The sheer pressure coming from your cunt forces him out of you and he only laughs, pulling away from you as he watches you gush. He holds one of your legs open as he jerks himself off, using the new wetness as a lubricant. He finishes on your stomach soon after, voice jumping back and forth between deep groans and high-pitched moans as he milks himself dry at the sight of you.

You both sit there, chests heaving and heavy breaths filling the room. His eyes rake up and down your body as he catches his breath, his hands mindlessly rubbing up and down your sides as he tries to help you calm down. Your eyes meet and he smiles widely, eyes crinkling at the corners as he giggles at you.

“You did so well, baby. I can’t believe you did it a second time…” He giggles and crawls over you, hovering over you as he pushes his lips onto yours. “Lixie…” You whine against his lips and wrap your arms around his neck. He pulls away and pushes his lips against your jaw once more, “No more, Honey. Time to clean up, okay?”

Hyunjin’s voice suddenly comes from the bathroom, in a very dramatic ‘over the intercom’ voice. “Baby 1 and Baby 2, if you could please make your way to the shower so I can give you some lovin?” You and Felix laugh at the same time and you continue to lay in your spot, even after Felix has stood on his feet. He drags you by your ankle to the edge of the bed and, despite your groans and whines, pulls you to stand with him.

The two of you wobble over to the bathroom where Hyunjin is standing in the shower. He smiles and curls his finger, gesturing to both of you to join him under the steaming water. Felix taps your ass playfully, sending you stumbling forward. Both men laugh as you stick your tongue out at the younger and speed-walk your way to Hyunjin.

The three of you squeezed into the shower and, thanks to the newer dorms, the shower is big enough to comfortably accommodate you all. They take turns washing you off and you help them wash each other off while some soft kisses and tender caresses are exchanged in the cooling water.

Your body is still shaky by the time you’re fully dressed and tangled in the new sheets with both your lovers. You’re sandwiched between them, covered by the fluffy comforter, and basking in the warmth of their bodies that are tangled with yours. Hyunjin is the first to fall asleep, cheek squished against your chest as you lay on your side facing him. Felix is behind you, one arm holding his head up and the other rubbing your shoulder softly, easing you into a slumber. Right before you give in to your exhaustion you’re reminded of your earlier conversation with Chris.

“Ah- Lixie?”

“Yes, love?”

“Channie said he wanted to talk with you about something.” You smile and wiggle your eyebrows before sleep finally takes over you, leaving a very confused Felix who just shakes his head at you mid-laugh.

Taglist:

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@baby-stay92

[hearts4golbach]

Hello! I hope you are doing great. I was wondering if you could write a Johnnie Guilbert smut where him and the reader have been friends for a few weeks or so, but they both have a lot of sexual tension, that they just haven’t acted on yet. Everyone notices, so Jake and Carrington always make jokes. Then, one night at a party, the group is having fun, and the reader is watching Johnnie intensely. Johnnie notices and decides to walk the reader out of the party and go home to make the move everyone has been waiting for. I'm thinking kind of rough but intimate smut, lots of praise, and maybe choking because he notices that the reader is a little kinky?? 🥰 If you're comfortable with writing that. Afterward, they cuddle, and Johnnie asks the reader if she would like to be his girlfriend. Awh. (There's an edit of Johnnie walking out of a party; it's so fine. That's where I got this idea from, lol.) 🙏🙏

Be Mine.

pairing:

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

warnings:

18+ smut, choking, unprotected sex (use protection), tiny drinking mention.

"fuck, johnnie. you scared the shit out of me." Your pale friend walked into the kitchen. it was half past midnight, and seeing his figure creep into the kitchen out of the corner of your eye scared the shit out of you.

he was standing shirtless beside you. "Sorry, i -" he looked you up and down. you were in your pajama booth shorts and a tank top, both excentuated your figure. "I was just coming to get water."

your eyes hovered on his bare chest and tattoos a little longer than they should've been. "Don't worry about it." You gave him a soft smile.

you were staying the night because you may or may not have gotten a little too drunk to drive yourself home. maybe a lot too drunk.

his hand grazed your waist as he moved past you. "you feeling any better?"

you cleared your throat. "yeah, somewhat. I plan on running home in the morning to get ready for the video, but then I'll be back."

he smiled, "good. im-"

"you guys better not be fucking in the kitchen." Jake interrupted as he came down the stairs.

"what kind of fucking cult meeting is this?" you joked, "why are we all up right now?"

Jake pranced into the kitchen with a shrug.

"I'm fucking dying of dehydration." johnnie finally grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge.

"goodnight you guys." you walked back into the living room and laid on the couch.

it was hard to sleep. your mind was plagued with thoughts of Johnnie. how his hands would feel around your neck, how he'd taste in your mouth. sleeping was useless at this point. it was 4 am by the time you got off the couch to run home. you dragged yourself off of the comfortable couch and slipped on your shoes.

you snuck out the front door in attempt to not wake anyone up. the journey to your house and back was quick. you took a 5 minute shower to wash the drunk look off of your face. then, you got dressed, ate breakfast, and left again.

whenever you got back, you found Carrington scrounging around the kitchen. "hey, Carrington."

"oh, what's up, y/n. where'd ya go?" he pulled a box of Twix cereal from the cabinet and poured himself a bowl.

"just ran home real quick to shower and shit. can't be looking homeless on the internet." you leaned against the counter.

he took a bite of his cereal. "true that. want some?" he asked between smacking lips.

you scrunched your nose. "i'm good, i already ate."

"i know i've said this a million times," he rolled his eyes, "but you need to make a move on Johnnie. that boy is head over heels, choking on his own feet for you."

"first of all, what does that even mean? second, i don't think he likes me like that, i think we just have a unique friendship." you flailed your hand around to make your point.

"unique? yeah, that guy is always undressing you with his eyes, you do the same." he smirked. he wiped a droplet of milk from the corner of his mouth.

"yeah, whatever." you rolled your eyes before turning. you walked back into the living room and plopped down on the couch.

carrington wasn't far behind you. he sat on the opposite side of you. he didn't say anything, just sat and munched on his cereal. you snapped a picture, thinking it was funny, and posted it on your story after tagging him.

"we're recording around 7 ish, right?" you asked him, checking the group chat to double check the details.

"actually, me and Jake were talking last night about making it earlier. Tara wants to go to this party tonight and wants us to come with." he shrugged, "we were gonna talk to you and Johnnie 'bout it whenever you were both up."

you raised your eyebrows. "i'm more than down. i'm sure Johnnie will be too. i mean, i don't wanna answer for him, but you know."

"well, duh."

you and Carrington sat in the couch talking and watching a movie while you waited for everyone to wake up. he mentioned planning on going back to sleep, but he stayed up with you instead.

it was a few hours before everyone had came downstairs. Jake was making a smoothie, which ended up waking up Johnnie. Carrington brought up the idea of going to that party later that night, which Johnnie agreed to.

the last few hours before recording went by fast, as well. you spent most of them with Johnnie.

you had asked Tara to bring you one of her dresses, since you didn't want to leave Johnnie and run home. she obviously agreed. Tara loved seeing how her clothes fit you.

Jake set up the camera in the living room. "you guys ready?"

everyone said some form of yes. Jake started the camera.

recording the video felt long whenever all you wanted to do was go and party. it was truth or drink with everybody. of course, Carrington asked johnnie about me and him. he asked of Johnnie had feelings for me. he took a shot for that one. you knew the fans would be all over that clip.

the video was finally done an hour later. it was about 1:30, so you had time to kill.

you helped Jake and Johnnie with chores around the house while Carrington and Tara ran to get lunch.

you were working on making Johnnies bed for him whenever he spoke up. "y/n?"

"What's up?"

he stuttered, "You excited for the party?"

"Yeah, I guess so. they're always fun, especially when you go. we get to be introverts together." You turned around and smiled at him.

he didn't respond. his eyes flickered from your lips back to your eyes. there was a moment of silence before he spoke up. "Yeah, I'm glad you'll be there."

"Are you okay?" You stepped closer to him.

"Yeah, I just -" he began to lean in closer to you.

"We're back!" Tara yelled up the stairs. it startled both of you. you quickly backed away from each other.

"i-" you began to speak.

"Let's go eat." he shot you a soft smile before leading you back downstairs.

you followed johnnie and sat next to him on the couch. everybody was already in the living room. Jake was scrolling on tiktok while the other two were emptying the Chipotle bags.

"the fuck were you guys doing? making out?" Tara smirked.

Johnnie shook his head. "we were cleaning, tara."

she hummed, "right."

-

everyone ubered to the party together. Tara was hyping all of you up, but we didn't really need her to. you were all pumped up as it was.

you locked your arm with Johnnies as you walked inside. Tara immediately started singing along to whatever 2000s pop was blasting. it didn't take long for Jake and Carrington to get into it.

you watched as Johnnie followed their lead, bopping his head along and singing some of the lyrics. you giggled, which caught Johnnies attention. he smiled at you, and you smiled back.

everyone got at least one drink. you sipped on a hard seltzer while dancing with tara. you couldn't keep your eyes off of Johnnie.

"y/n!" Tara whined, "why are you so distracted tonight?!"

"it's just johnnie. I don't know, like, what's going on between us anymore."

"it's obvious you two like each other, just go for it!" she scolded.

"But I'm not sure! what if I make a move and I get the wrong idea so... I don't even know!"

"Trust me, y/n. he likes you." she rolled her eyes.

you looked towards Johnnie again. he was already looking at you. he shot you a smile and a wave. you felt your face heat up, and you looked away.

"See? come on!" she laughed. "we both know you need some dick, and Johnnie has had this huge crush on you for so long. I know you like him, too. it's obvious."

"Okay, fine. i-" You felt a tap on your shoulder, making you jump. you turned your head to see Johnnie. he let his hand rest on your shoulder. "Hi."

"Hey, im pretty bored. wanna come with me? I'm going home."

you glanced back at Tara, and she winked at you.

"Yeah, I'm down. this shit is pretty boring." which was a lie on your part, and you knew he was lying too.

you waved bye to everyone and followed Johnnie out of the party. he had already called an Uber, which was waiting by the curb.

he opened the door for you, and you climbed in. the whole ride home was silent.

as Johnnie began to unlock the front door, he spoke up. "I noticed you staring." he pushed the front door open and walked in.

you followed close behind him. "Sorry." You responded, flustered. you shut the door behind you.

Johnnie turned around, stopping you in your tracks. "Don't be. I'm just- fuck. I need you so bad, y/n."

"What? can you repeat that?" You smirked, backing yourself into the door as he followed.

he gripped your hips, placing his head in the crook of your neck. "I said I need you so bad. it's unbearable."

his grip on you was tight. he himself closer to you as he began to kiss your neck. your hand tangled into his already messy hair. he bit your neck gently as he sucked dark hickeys into your neck. those would be hard to explain to everybody.

"fuck, I think I need you more." you whispered into his ear.

he pulled away from your neck and smashed his lips onto yours. his lips were soft and glided with yours perfectly. you had been waiting for this kiss for so long, too long.

as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, he slid his hands up your dress and gripped your ass. he pulled it up, so it bunched around your waist. he massaged your ass with one hand while the other stayed on your hip.

"johnnie, please." you pleaded, trying to pull him closer by the collar of his shirt.

"Please what, mama?" he pulled away, his eyes locked on your lips.

"God, fuck me."

he grabbed your hand and dragged you up to his bedroom. you slammed the door and locked it, just in case.

his hands were immediately on you once more, attempting to pull the dress off of you. once he got it, he threw it somewhere on the floor.

he led you back to the bed. your knees caught against the bed, and you fell back. he crawled up on top of you and teased the rim of your bra.

you clawed at his shirt and eventually pulled it off, leaving his pale skin and tattoos there for you to admire.

you quickly unbuckled and pulled down his jeans, revealing his hard member in his underwear.

you palmed him through his undwear, making him quietly whimper against your lips. he rushed to take off your panties, to impatient to worry about your bra at the moment.

he stuck two fingers in your mouth. "spit for me, baby."

you complied, licking and sucking his fingers before spitting on them. he pulled his boxers down and kicked them off. he rubbed your spit all over his dick.

"Please, Johnnie. need you so bad." You begged.

"so impatient, pretty girl." his hand caressed your cheek before gripping your hip.

he aligned his tip with your entrance before thrusting inside of you. he bottomed out, making you moan loudly. he gave you a moment to adjust.

"fuck, please fuck me." you whimpered.

"yes, ma'am." he smirked and began thrusting inside of you at an agonizingly slow pace.

he let out a soft grunt with each thrust. he leaned down and placed his lips onto yours gently.

you wrapped your legs around his waist, begging him to go faster. he did so, speeding up his pace just enough. you moaned into his mouth.

you reached for his hand that was pressed into the bed beside you. you took it and moved it up to your neck. "fucking choke me." you instructed him breathlessly.

you felt his cock twitch inside of you. "You'd like that, Mama?"

you nodded eagerly as he wrapped his hand around your throat. he gripped it tight, cutting off some of your air flow. your moans became raspy and breathless, and he thrusted faster.

"fuck," you moaned out as Johnnie tightened his grip on your throat. your eyes rolled back as the sounds of skin slapping together filled the room.

"you're taking me so well, baby." he praised as he was breathing heavily. "so fucking good."

he pulled you up by your neck to kiss your lips. you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him passionately.

he pounded into you, making you moan loud as you felt his cock twitch again.

"fuck, I'm close, Johnnie." you whimpered before pressing your lips against his again.

he let out a small giggled followed by a moan. "cum on my dick."

your walls squeezed his cock tight as you moaned his name. you felt a coil build up in your stomach as you moaned and cursed under your breath. your walls spasmed around him as you came hard.

Johnnie helped you ride out your high before pulling out and cumming on your stomach. he whimpered as he covered your lower stomach in his cum.

he collapsed on the bed next to you. "thanks for making my bed, but now it's all fucked up." he joked.

you hummed. he jumped up and grabbed a small rag from his closet. he cleaned his cum off of your stomach and the left over juices off of your pussy.

he pulled the covers over the two of you. you curled up against him. "that was amazing." you muttered, closing your eyes.

he wrapped his arms around you. "y/n?"

"hmm?"

"will you be my girlfriend?" he leaned his head against yours.

"of course I will, stupid."

[fetusgooseandjuice]

Trust Me

Pairing(s): Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You haven’t been able to sleep in a couple weeks, and Natasha knows just the way to get you to close your eyes.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None? (If anyone finds any feel free to message me!)

Author’s Note: Heyy guys! I know I haven’t posted a fic in like 6 months, but I got writers block and it just never really went away. I’m not sure when I’ll post again, but I’ve had the idea for this fic for a while and I finally got the motivation to write it. It might not be that good but I hope you enjoy it at least a little! Think of it as a little Christmas gift :)

Author’s Note Pt. 2: Also, this is not proofread because I just wanted to get it posted so there might be some spelling and grammar errors!

You heavily sighed once again for probably the fifth time in the past five minutes. It’s been a few hours since you and Natasha had called it a night, and yet here you were at nearly three in the morning still lying wide awake.

Although it’s not as if you were surprised or expecting anything else. You’d been having trouble falling asleep since the first night you and Natasha arrived in Norway.

Despite not having gotten many hours of sleep lately, for some reason you still weren’t tired and still could not fall asleep.

When your girlfriend came to you a week and a half ago and told you she had no other choice but to leave the states in order to evade the government after the whole incident between Tony and Steve, you instantly decided you’d be going with her without a second thought and left no room for her to disagree.

After all she should’ve known you’d follow her anywhere, but you guess it’s taken a toll on you.

You wanted to sleep, and yet you weren’t sure what was keeping you up. Maybe you were worried about something happening to Natasha?

‘What if she gets caught? Or what if we both somehow get hurt?’ you thought.

But you knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself and keeping you safe at the same time.

Even with the amount of times you told yourself not to worry, your mind wouldn’t listen.

You eventually sighed and turned your head to look at the redhead behind you. Her arms were wrapped tightly around you and no matter how much she shifted throughout the night, she never let you go.

The mere thought of that would be enough to bring a smile to your face if you weren’t so frustrated with yourself.

Deciding you’d had enough of laying there awake, you carefully unraveled your girlfriend’s arms from around you and slid out of bed.

You almost shivered at the cool temperature of the trailer as your bare feet touched the floor and you made your way into the kitchen.

The random plastic bags on the counter rustled as you rummaged through them in search of something to snack on, finally coming across a bottle of water and a pack of chips you’d never heard of.

As you went to open the cap of the bottle, a pair of arms slipping around your waist startled you. The yelp you let out made the person behind you chuckle, and you relaxed recognizing the sound.

“Sorry, malysh (baby).” Natasha said and you turned to look at her to see the apologetic look she had on her face.

You gave her a slight smile before shaking your head, “It’s okay. But what’re you doing up right now, Nat? You should be asleep, you need to rest.”

She dipped her head down to press multiple kisses to the skin of your neck, “I could ask you the same question because so do you.”

You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to leave the warmth of your shared bed without her noticing.

“I just couldn’t sleep.” you said, making her eyebrows furrow as you opened your water bottle and took a sip. “But I know you’re still tired so you should go back to bed, I’ll be there soon.”

“No, not without you.” Natasha was quick to disagree, “What’s going on, dorogaya (darlin)? You were yawning quite a bit before we went to bed. Why can’t you sleep?” she rested her chin on your shoulder, ready to listen to what you had to say.

You sighed realizing that you were going to have to have this conversation now. Your shoulders shrugged, “I don’t know.” was all you offered.

Natasha stayed quiet, giving you the floor for when you were ready to add on. A moment later, you did.

“I haven’t really gotten any decent sleep recently, so I’m not sure why I can’t fall asleep or why I’m not tired.”

Your girlfriend pecked your shoulder blade, acknowledging that she heard you.

“How long has this been going on for?” she asked.

For a second you went quiet, not exactly wanting to answer when you remembered that now that she knew, she wasn’t going to let it go until she made it better.

“Since we left the states.” you admitted.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Once again, you shrugged your shoulders, “I didn’t want to worry you.” you said. “You already have a lot on your plate with this whole situation and I didn’t want to add more to it.”

You heard Natasha sigh and now you appreciated that fact that you weren’t standing face to face at the moment.

“I guess I’m thinking too much.” you added. “At night I finally get the time to actually think about stuff, and I worry about you and if you’re going to be okay.”

Natasha was also glad you weren’t standing face to face right now because if you were, you would’ve seen the way her lips pulled into a smile.

“Well if you’re going to worry about me then I think I have every right to worry about you.” she chuckled and you fought back a smile at it.

“I’m sorry.” you said.

She didn’t say anything for a few moments until you heard her soft voice with that hint of rasp speak up.

“Look at me, krasivyy (beautiful).”

You craned your neck to see green eyes which were filled to the brim with love and tenderness staring at you, the singular warm light above the kitchen sink allowing her to see your sad ones.

The frustration that’d been building up in you beginning to melt away ever so slightly.

“I want you to talk to me about what you’re going through.” Natasha spoke. “I don’t care about what you think I might have going on, you’re always my first priority, okay?”

You nodded as she raised a hand to caress your cheek, brushing a hair behind your ear in the process.

“I love you too much to have you worrying that pretty little head of yours all alone when I’m always right here for you.” she pressed her lips to your temple to emphasize her point. “So promise me next time you’ll tell me if somethings wrong?”

“I promise, and I love you too, Nat.”

“Good,” Natasha smiled and leaned in to connect your lips in a loving kiss, pulling away shortly after and leaning her forehead against yours. “I’m going to be okay, so there’s no need to worry. We’re both gonna be okay, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. You knew Natasha would make sure of that.

“Alright, do you think you’re ready to head back to bed?”

You weren’t sure how to answer that. Even though you were relieved Natasha knew now and you talked about it, you still weren’t even close to being able to go to sleep.

“No,” you spoke quietly. “I’m still not really tired, and I honestly don’t know if I will be until this all blows over.”

Natasha went silent for a few moments, thinking. She turned you around to face her and moved your arms to wrap around her shoulders.

“Nat, what are you—”

“Shhh,” she interrupted your sentence, “Just trust me.”

So you did.

Her arms snaked back around your waist and pulled you into her. You weren’t exactly sure what she was doing until she began swaying with you from one side to the other.

You’d danced together before, but at Tony’s many parties. Not when you were trying to make yourself fall asleep.

“Nat, I don’t think—”

“You’re supposed to be trusting me. Do you not?”

“I do, but—”

“So shhh,” she said and you couldn’t help the little giggle you let out. “You said you were thinking too much, right?”

“Yeah.” you confirmed.

“So just relax and let me do all the thinking. I don’t want you to worry about anything except trusting me.”

“Okay.” you whispered, giving in and resting your cheek on her shoulder, allowing her to move you.

A few seconds later Natasha began humming. It wasn’t a song that you knew, but you recognized it as one of the many Russian lullabies she’s hummed and sometimes sang to you before.

The way she hummed them always made you feel relaxed and peace, and this time was no different. Because soon you started to lean into her more as you became more and more weary.

Your heavy eyelids fell shut and your head found security in her neck as you cuddled closer to it, happily letting her comforting scent soothe you.

After a couple of songs, Natasha finally looked at you to find you pretty much sound asleep.

She grinned to herself and pecked your head before lifting you into her arms, making her way back to your bedroom.

“Told you to trust me.”

~ end ~

[starofthesea7]

König~Worship the King

Your eyes traced the huge mass of muscle in front of you. Fresh from the field, he looked exhausted, primal- his canvas pants still splattered with mud and god knows what else. Arms shiny with sweat and rain, leg bouncing absentmindedly, his head was still a void, swimming with pictures of death and devastation. His eyes were focused on a bowl of stew, dwarfed by his huge, muscled hands. Pale fingers against white ceramic.

‘You can take the mask off to eat your food, I have to clean up your face anyway. In fact I should look at that first.” Your voice was soft, hesitant. Afraid of startling him, even though little could do so.

Dark fabric folded as he shook his head gently. “After. I don’t want it to…” he searched for the word in English, “to scare you. Yet” His voice was rough and tired, laced thickly with an accent, german. Your heart twinged at his words.

“You couldn’t scare me.” You attempted a reassuring smile. König. King. A very fitting name for the enigma in front of you, and yet in some ways not fitting at all. True he was imposing. Large. Stately. Yet he was gentle, anxious, even, when he was in close proximity to others. Under scrutiny. He was anxious when it came to people, most of all you. He was good at hiding it though, to you it seemed an aloofness, perhaps even a polite disinterest, that he felt towards you. A simple nod in greeting as he passed you was the most you could hope to receive.

Now you stood in between his enormous thighs which he’d spread just far enough apart to avoid grazing yours, the air between them thick with tension. You rolled up his dark sleeve, doing your best to ignore the rippling muscle beneath. They way it flexed which each ascent of his spoon, before it disappeared underneath black cloth, then reappeared, empty. He barely flinched as you dabbed an alcohol pad across the gaping wound on his shoulder. Blood glistened carmine.

Oxymoron was a more fitting name, you thought. Perhaps it was too long for a nickname. He truly was a paradox, though. So colossal, yet reserved. So immense yet quiet, even gentle. He was a man of few words. A wave waiting to crash, or a volcano waiting to erupt.

Your voice broke the silence, surprising you both. It felt small. “Feel okay?” He was nervous, although you couldn’t see it, underneath the mask. He wasn’t really afraid of you, more afraid of hurting you, or scaring you. With his weight. His scars, his is strength.

His eyes raised to meet yours. Although he was sitting, they were level with your own. A cold, pale olive green. “Ja. Thank you. I am sorry for waking you for this little scratch.” When you’d gotten a call that he’d needed a small patch job, admittedly you’d jumped at the chance to see him. You’d been drawn to the Austrian giant since you’d arrived a month ago. You liked his presence, it was safe, a shield to all else. Nothing could touch you with him there. No amount of horny jeering men, or loaded guns.

“It’s not a just scratch, König, its a big gash. And I haven’t even gotten to your face yet. Plus, I couldn’t sleep anyway, I’m happy to do it.” You rambled, feeling the burn of his eyes on yours, studying your face as you concentrated, threading a sterile needle. You stepped forward, into him, bumping his leg. He smelled like earth, and motor oil. Faintly of cigarettes and metallic blood. The heady odour was thick, collocating with the rubbing alcohol of your sterile office.

“Deep breath.” You felt silly, instructing a man who’d murdered countless men in the past week to do a breathing excersise, but he obeyed, the soft, raspy sound making your knees weak, and your imagination run wild. You blinked and regained focus, before puncturing the skin. His eyes fixed on your face, unwavering. You counted the stitches. Eleven, black and neat, in a row. “Aaand…done.” You cut the thread. “And not even a flinch.” You smiled at him, and his eyes crinkled, barely.

You gently rubbed it with ointment and wiped your hands on a towel, blood staining it crimson. You noticed his thighs now resting against yours. They were warm, and dirt from them stained your kaki pants but your hardly cared. “Ok. Ready for the mask?” You felt nervous, more nervous than he looked. It felt monumental, an enigma becoming real, smoke condensing into man.

You’d thought about what he looked like, but only in patches, certain features imagined while the rest of the picture was more of a blurred haze. Pale skin and light eyes. Dark or light hair? A sharp jaw or weak and soft? You couldn’t really imagine him being ugly, and truly, you felt you’d be attracted to him regardless, like opposite poles of a magnet. North and south. Dark and light, soft and hard.

He cleared his throat, and set the empty bowl down beside him. His eyes held yours vehemently, and large hands raised black cloth, revealing a pale, broad column of neck, a white scar gracing one side. You wanted to graze it with your lips. His lips were split, bitten and red. And inviting. A glint of teeth and a jaw, sharp with a whisper of stubble. The cloth clung to a splatter of blood and small cuts now integrated with old scars, and a few pieces of shrapnel that traveled up to a deep, glistening slice. Caked blood ran down his temple. His nose was sharp and slightly crooked, veering to the right in an endearing way, as if it had been broken when he was a child.

Then, his eyes, deep set and soft, framed with long lashes and crowned with sharp brows, one interrupted by a large, aged scar. Finally, hair, light, light brown, almost blonde, with a tinge of red, tumbled out. It was tied back with an elastic, but not long, as if he was in need of a trim, shorter pieces falling across his forehead. His head tilted back as he looked at you, silently, daring you to react to his intimate sign of trust.

You breathed out. It wasn’t what you had expected. His face was, interesting. Attractive. Younger than you’d imagined. A sharp canine pressed into his lip. You let out a breath, and raised a hand to his jaw, feeling it clench beneath your fingers, tilting his face up towards artificial light. His lips parted, adams apple bobbing. “You should’ve let me do your face first.”

“Sorry.” His voice was soft, ragged.

You reached for a pair of pointed tweezers and began removing each piece of shrapnel from his face. The night was quiet, save for for soft breaths. His was hot against your cheek. “König.” Chunks of metal and stone clanged into a small aluminum bowl. He hummed in response.

“You could never scare me.”

He smiled softly at you, slightly crooked.

Without meaning to, your thumb stroked the soft skin of his jaw. His legs tightened against you, barely, but your heart quickened against your ribcage.

Again, you soaked the wounds in alcohol. You could tell it stung. His fingers began absentmindedly drumming against your hip, leaving hot tingles in their wake. You moved to the cut on his lip, he hissed quietly as you made contact with the cotton pad. Your eyes were focused, pupils blown wide as you stared at his lips. His hot tongue peeking out from behind pink bloodied skin.

Your voice was quiet, distant, “You have a pretty bad split lip, I’m gonna put a little stitch in it.”

He swallowed hoarsely, “Okay.”

You were close, so close to him, breaths mingling in the hot air. His scent enveloped you. He enveloped you. You weren’t particularly small, but to him you were. Fragile. The needle ruptured his lip and his hand gripped at your waist, heavy and large. You leaned into him, lower stomach barely grazing the split of his pants. He shifted in thick canvas.

Your hand shifted, cupping his jaw as you cut the thread. His eyes were heavy with fatigue, and something else. You looked at each other with neediness, both in awe of how the other contained all that they could ever want- him to satiate your emptiness, you to soothe his aching burn. A month of passing glances and unsaid words threatened to morph into action; spurred on by the arousal of seclusion and stagnation after the high of adrenaline, the heady scent of blood, metal, alcohol.

You leaned in and felt his hand tighten against you hip, You were inches from him, the air between you buzzed as opposites attracted, pulled you towards him. His mouth widened as he leaned into you. Your soft, plush lips grazed his, barely, and he pulled you into him, emitting a soft sound. Mouths opened wide with need. He was metal, cigarettes and gasoline, the taste and smell making you unsteady, faint. You gripped his shirt tightly, his mass keeping you from falling, or perhaps from floating away.

Deft, strong fingers found the back of your head. Scalp prickling as he pulled at your hair. You were slick.

He groaned slightly into your mouth, and your hands found his hair, fisting it free from the elastic band, copper locks brushing your forehead, stubble brash against your reddening cheeks.

His large warm hand traced from your hip down, raising your leg to straddle his thigh. Hot, hard muscle against your softness. You let out an involuntary airy moan as the seam of your jeans jabbed into your clit, cunt clenching around nothing, deprived and empty.

You lifted your other leg to straddle him fully, clothed cunt contracting at the friction against pelvis, you could feel him, large, hard, heavy and confined. It made you hot with need. You pulled back to stare at him, pupils blown, lips puffy. His hips bucked up into you, searching for friction and release, his brows furrowed. Colossal hands found your waist beneath your shirt, opposite fingers almost touching around your circumference. His fingers were calloused and rough. Feeling his hot skin against yours made you reel with thoughts of at the way he dwarfed you, dominated you with the simplest of actions. The fact that he could fill your emptiness, stretch you to the brink, overwhelm you, crush you- was inebriating.

“I-” he searched for the right words, “I want you. Ich brauche dich.” You smiled at his mother tongue appearing, as it often did in states of intoxication.

You pressed your mouth to his neck, with an open mouthed kiss, feeling the bump of his scar as he swallowed, and looked up at him through wet lashes. Grinding your hips against him, making him groan, cock twitching, hyper sensitive from months of neglect. You maundered, “Let me make you feel good, König.” Your voice was airy and laced with fervour. His eyes were glassy and lidded as he looked down at you, hair falling across his forehead, glistening with sweat. His head swam, the situation feeling far to good to be true, an intoxicated dream or adrenaline spurred hallucination. His blunt fingernails clutched at your waist harshly, leaving half moons in their wake.

Your eyes flickered to a stain of precum darkening the crotch of his thick pants as you rose to your feet, his hands gripped his thighs in restraint, watching you in anticipation. Then, you knelt to the ground to worship your king.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hi!! Can i request a hurt/comfort hotch x reader?

Reader is starting to feel lonely in the relationship cause for the past 2 months hotch has only been home for a week total and she really misses him. They haven’t had time to themselves cause even when hotch is in virginia he’s in the office and him getting called out on a case during his day off happens more often than the both of them want to. and even when they text and call it’s not the same.

anyway hotch comes home in the middle of the night after a case and he just finds reader on the sofa crying cause she just really misses her boyfriend and the two of them finally talk about it.

You have permission to break my heart with the angst and put it back together. I know its long and i have no clue if it made sense so im sorry😭😭 enjoy your day💕

༉‧₊˚. 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

― pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader

― summary: you knew that being with aaron meant that his job came first, you just hadn't realized how badly it would actually affect you. now, your life and love is on the line.

― warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST!!! you have been warned!, thoughts of breaking up, established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, hints of depression.

― wc: 905

⋆ a/n: my first long fic back being angst LMAOOOO. i'm not going to lie, writing this kind of bummed me out a bit but that's how i knew it was going to be good LOL. but never fear, i got a few smutty things in the works, so keep a silly little eye out for that!! i love you guys so so much and thank you for your request!

masterlist | AO3

The room felt melancholic. Empty. 

The sounds of laughter that had once bounced off of the walls of your home now rang silently, one of the only people that knew of the joy that once made your house a home was long gone on a case right now.

You don’t know what to do. How could you last like this? How could your relationship? How could Jack?

Jack, the precious little boy that you had taken under your wing even before you and Aaron had ever made it official. You knew he missed his father dearly, but with every large life milestone the boy had completed, Aaron had missed out on. It had gotten to the point where Jack doesn’t bother to ask you if he could call his dad to tell him about it, because nine times out of ten, he knew that Aaron wouldn’t answer.

So now as you sit here on the couch in the dark with your head in your hands, you can’t help but think that maybe this was it, that it was time to consider the very dreaded other option. 

You tried your best to make your relationship with Aaron work, God did you try, but having to sit there and endure weeks of radio silence, of not knowing whether or not he was alive was excruciating. When he did have time to text or call you, every conversation was more and more distant. 

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, and your bottom lip trembled. You crossed your arms and placed them on your knees where you leaned on them, staring out into the abyss of your dimly lit living room. You had just put Jack to sleep, and you didn’t want to risk waking him up.

Your eyes solemnly scaled the walls where the pictures of your little family hung, frames upon frames of happy smiling faces. 

What happened?

It was the fact you were absolutely drowning in your thoughts that you didn’t hear your front door unlock – something that your boyfriend would deeply frown upon. 

Aaron wasn’t surprised to find the apartment quiet, what he was surprised to find was your silhouette illuminated by a single lamp. What really set off the alarms in his brain was your shivering shoulders, which could only mean one thing.

“Sweetheart?” His deep voice pierced the thin air hovering above you. You just shook your head, any happiness that would have left your mouth died in your throat, the words leaving you was, “We have to talk.”

You hated doing this, but who’s to say he won’t get called in tomorrow? No, you had to do this now.

Aaron felt his heart fall into his stomach as he made his way over towards you, gently sitting down on the cushion next to yours, almost as if he was afraid to scare you.

“Of course. Are you okay?” He inquired in concern. You just shook your head again. “This isn’t working, Aaron.” The pain lacing your voice was unmissable. “What?” He’s completely caught off guard, because this was the last thing he’d expected to come home to.

“I can’t do this anymore… unless – unless we can figure something out but even then I-” He rushes to grab your hand, and it lays limp and cold in his warm and calloused one. “Honey please, what’s wrong? Tell me what I can do.” Holy shit, he’s panicking. 

“You’re never here anymore! I - I can’t remember the last time in the past two months that we’ve been able to have any alone time together! Most of the time you’re either gone in a whole different state or stuck in the office!” You couldn’t stop the word vomit from leaving, all kinds of emotions that had been kept dormant finally coming up to the surface.

You heaved out a deep breath, your body slumping in defeat. “Did you know that Jack learned how to ride a bike today?” You asked quietly. “No.” Aaron gulped, “I didn’t.”

A heavy silence settled between the two of you.

“What do you need me to do?” Finally, you looked at him.

There were unshed tears in your eyes, “What I want you to do, you can’t make it happen.” His eyebrows furrowed. “You want me to quit my job?”

“No,” You said with a disbelieving laugh. “I just want you to be there.”

“Who says I can’t do that?” His head tilts, his eyes boring into yours, desperately trying to read you. It was like his profiler skills didn’t exist. “Every time you’ve had a day off you’ve been called into the office one way or another.” Your tone is hopeless, like your situation can’t be helped. 

With a harsh squeeze of your eyelids, the tears began to fall, but Aaron was quick to swipe them away.

“Honey, look at me,” He cups the side of your cheek, his thumb brushing away the liquid. Hesitantly you did, and you instantly fell victim to the warmness of his irises. “I will fix this, because I am not losing you. My behavior has been completely unacceptable, and I swear that I will be here for you and Jack more consistently, I promise.”

“How do I know if this won’t happen again?

“I’ll make sure of it.” 

It was the finality in his voice that fizzled out the anxiety in your gut, setting your nerves at ease.

“Don’t make me regret this, Hotchner.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[d0youc0py]

Even when he wasn’t working his mask seem to haunt him. He wanted to be here with you- but every time he looked in the mirror he was pulled away. Red bumps littered his jaw and some even around his hairline. He had always struggled with acne, having the acne scars to prove it, but it seemed to be getting worse. He’d been in a hotter climate this last mission, the sweat and not being able to air out his face was taking its toll.

He felt so unattractive. He quickly figured out when you feel ugly- you act ugly.

“Sweetheart, open up.” Simon sighed, his hand knocking at the door to emphasize. You two had just gone out on your first date since he’s been back and he snipped at you the whole time.

“Fuck off!”

Ouch.

“Sweetheart.” He started again. The bedroom door finally swung open. His body tensed at your teary face.

“I don’t know what happened to you while you were out there, and god knows you won’t tell me, but you have no right to take it out on me. I’ve been waiting for you to come home for the past three weeks and what am I greeted with? Hostility. It’s like I can’t do anything right.” You sputtered, glaring up at him. His hand instinctively went up to wipe the tears away from your face. He had never been the best at comforting people, but he would do anything to get your tears to stop.

“You’re right.” He admitted. The glare left your face. He was usually much more stubborn- unless he knew he in the was wrong. You softened. “It has nothin to do with work, at least not in the way you think.” His hand went up to rub his jaw but he quickly stopped himself. “I just haven’t been feeling”- He paused. He brought his hand up and motioned to his jaw, turning his head to the side.

“Si.” You murmured. You had noticed a little flare in his skin, but you didn’t really process it. He was always so handsome in your eyes. Your fingers reached up and traced along his cheekbone. “I understand.”

“Shouldn’t take it out on you though, yeah?” He affirmed.

“No you shouldn’t, but I understand now.” You smiled softly, pressing a kiss to his chin. “You’re so handsome, you know.” You mumbled down his neck. He flushed, clearing his throat. “Do you want some help with it?” You offered.

His metabolism wasn’t what it use to be. Luckily the physical activity of his job kept away any unwanted pounds. That was until he was forced to go on medical leave and spend three months ‘taking it easy.’

He would be completely lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed it though. Being home with you had been heaven- but a bit of hell on his waistline. He noticed it a bit, but he honestly didn’t think anyone else would. He was rudely awoken when he arrived back at base only to have Soap and Gaz poke fun at him. He knew it was all in good fun, but his first thoughts were about you. Had you noticed? If you did, how did you feel about it? He hushed his own thoughts figuring he would loose the weight out on the field. That was his second rude awakening. He had shed a few pounds, but a few stubborn ones remained poking out over his belt.

“How does Y/N feel about their new pillow?” Soap hummed, plopping down next to him. It had been like this for the past month.

“Sleeps like a rock.” Price grumbled.

“Didn’t know you knew what that was Cap.”

“Soap fuck off.” Ghost growled from across the aisle. “Fucking hell.”

The plane was quiet for a while after that.

John shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was never one to be insecure, but this was striking a cord. He remembers being younger and overhearing his mother gossiping in the kitchen about the neighbors.

“Alice has gained so much weight. She’s just gotten married too! Couldn’t imagine already letting myself go like that.”

Letting himself go.

That’s what it was. He didn’t want you- or anyone to think that he had ‘let himself go.’ That it was no longer important to him if you had found him attractive. That the two of you had been married for a little over a year so he could just give up. He shook himself out of his thoughts again.

•••••••••

He couldn’t even get through the door by the time you were on him.

“Welcome Home.” You smiled, pressing kisses to anywhere you could reach. He chuckled, leaning into you. He placed one arm under your bottom lifting you up to him. He dropped his duffle bag at the door kicking the door closed behind him.

“I missed you.” He murmured kissing you back just as desperate. He plopped down on the couch, settling you tightly in his lap. All was right in the world till your hands started to wander.

“You get hurt again?” You questioned after he flinched. Your hands went to pull up his shirt to inspect the damage. He stopped you. “John?” You questioned softly. He tangled his hands with yours.

“You know I have a tendency to be a bit old fashioned.” He started. You pressed your brows together.

“John I’ve seen you naked before.”

“No, love.” He chuckled. “I’ve gained a bit of weight and back in my day that was more scandalous than adultery”-

“You know I don’t care about that.” You interjected.

“I know, that’s what makes this whole thing ridiculous. It’s just something I’ve found out about myself, something that I need to work through.” He sighed, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

“Does this mean I can’t touch you?” You mumbled, fiddling with his shirt collar. He quickly shook his head.

“Course not.” He whispered.

“Johnny, you’re being too loud.”

That sentence had been replaying in his head like a broken record. You didn’t mean anything by it. You were just keeping him in check. Yet he could feel your embarrassment. The heat rising to your cheeks. The panic in your voice. The way you gave total strangers an apologetic smile when they turned your way. He had always been a naturally loud talker. Growing up with five siblings in a small two bedroom apartment was to thank for that. The fact that he had been around explosives for the past eight years didn’t help either.

“Johnny?” You tapped his arm. His eyes fled from the small paper bowl of ice cream to you. “You okay? You’ve been so quiet since we’ve left the restaurant.”

He couldn’t stop a dry chuckle. He grabbed the small bowl, shoving a spoonful in his mouth.

“ ‘m fine.” He mumbled. You sighed leaning across the table gripping his hand with yours.

“Jo.” You pressed again, flashing him your undeniable puppy eyes. He gave your hand a small squeeze.

“Sorry for the way I was at the restaurant.” He grumbled.

“What?” You asked, leaning forward again.

“I said, I’m sorry for the way I was at the restaurant.” He repeated. Your brows furrowed. Suddenly it hit you. Your hand left his and clamped over your mouth.

“No, no, no, Johnny.” You said quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that. Well I did- but”- You cut yourself off. You rubbed your forehead. Your hands reached out again tangling yours and his together. “I’m sorry I made you feel bad. That wasn’t my intention. I just know you sometimes forget your own volume.”

He gave you a small smile, pressing a kiss to your knuckle.

“I know Bonnie. I just don’t like embarrassing you.”

“We’re just so different in that way Jo. My parents were so strict about how loud I was- especially in public. It’s just a stupid habit I have, but I should never expect you to follow it.” You smiled softly. He smiled back at you, the sparkle returning to his blue eyes.

“I should still work on it though. Don’t want to blow your eardrums out, then we’ll both be shouty.” He chuckled.

“You hate it when I do this don’t you?” You hummed.

“I’m still not use to it.” He sighed, using his thumb to run small circles against your hip. He shivered as your fingers traced over another long stretch mark on his back. He mumbled something and pulled you closer, your body almost completely buried underneath his.

It was no secret Konig was tall. Along with that height came stretch marks. Mostly on his lower back and calves, some even under his arms. Some had faded, a small ridge in his skin to show they were still there. Others were a deeper pink- more noticeable.

“Everybody has them Konnie.” You mumbled, pressing a kiss under his jaw.

“I know.” He purred out as you massaged a small kink out of his back. Truth be told he didn’t really care about them either- until the locker room. That’s when he noticed how excessive his seemed. He had carried that feeling for a while, it wasn’t until he met you did he become more comfortable with it. You had showed him your stretch marks and he saw how pretty they looked on you. He slowly began to figure out that if he thought they looked nice on you, then you probably felt the same way about his. He still tenses when you touch them, his eyes darting to yours for any sign of insincerity. He’s always met with love and want. Just the thought of it causes a flutter in his stomach.

[writing-intheundercroft]

The Night Shift

AO3 Link

Pairing: Auror!Sebastian x F!MC

Word Count: 10,206

Rating: T (just some smooches but plenty of angst)

Summary: You're the lead healer in the St. Mungo's intensive care unit, and a painfully familiar face ends up in your ward.

A/N: Took a break from my long fics this week to deliver a long angsty Seb one shot. I heard Phoebe Bridgers cover Night Shift and became feral over it. Perhaps it needs a smutty part two???

Night One

“I’m so glad you were able to slip away from work for a bit.” Poppy says, pouring tea into your cup.

You smile up at the brunette girl, who still wears her hair in a cropped bob, albeit a bit more fashionable now that you’re in your twenties.  You miss Poppy’s presence in your life, but her career as a mazoologist and yours as a lead healer in the intensive care unit of St. Mungo’s has your schedules rarely crossing.  

“It’s nice to be out in the sunlight,” you say coyly, lifting the cup to your mouth. It's the truth–you haven’t been out to tea with a friend, dressed in a pretty lace gown in what feels like ages.  Your career usually has you in a tightly pulled bun, hair out of your face to focus on your patients, with bloodied aprons.  Magic can heal most ailments, but your ancient abilities make you the best bet for the most gravely wounded.  So much so that you’ve worked six nights a week every week for the past five years, sleeping during the day to make it to your overnight shifts at the hospital.

With few exceptions.

But there’s coverage today, giving you a rare Saturday afternoon off to enjoy the warm spring day.  You and Poppy are sitting outside a tea shop in Diagon Alley, catching up on all things personal, while people watching.  It’s strange, you think, to be surrounded by so many people.  You leave for your shift at seven thirty in the evening, when most people are getting home for dinner, and return to your flat far after everyone has left for work.  

Poppy had just started telling you a story about a wild herd of manticores she’d encountered on her travels abroad, when a familiar face walked up to your table.

“Merlin’s beard, I never thought I’d see the likes of you two ever again,” Andrew Larson grins.

“Andrew,” Poppy smiles. “It’s good to see you.”

There are obligatory kisses on the cheek as the handsome Ravenclaw pulls up a chair. “What are you doing in town, Poppy?”  

“Visiting my gran, of course.” She tilts her head towards you. “And catching up with friends.”

“And you, it’s like you’re back from beyond the grave.” Andrew shifts his attention, teasing you. “Haven’t seen you in a long time.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “Just busy keeping people from their graves, that’s all.”

“I’ve heard.” Andrew elbows you. “Youngest lead healer in all of St. Mungo’s.”

“Yet being the youngest earned me the night shift.” You wrinkle your nose.  “And very few days off.”

“How’s the auror office doing?” Poppy quips, leaning her chin into her palm.

Andrew shrugs. “Busy; we’re working on a big case right now, but we finally got a few hours off to enjoy lunch.  I was just heading over to the Cauldron, meeting Sallow and Clopton for a bite.”

You swallow thickly.  It’s been five years since you last spoke to Sebastian Sallow.  At this point, you can’t exactly remember how it ended, except that the two of you had screamed at one another.  You were fairly certain you’d thrown a book at his head, and he’d knocked over your favorite mug in the process. You still had it, the handle broken off, now used as a quill holder at your desk.

“Oi, Larson!  Quit flirting, we’ve just gotten a message. All hands on deck at the office.” 

Both you and Poppy turn to the voice; Everett Clopton is standing a few paces away, wearing a smart suit.  He still has his gold wire glasses, but he’s grown into them. He’s wearing a hat, tipping the brim to you both in acknowledgement.

You hate the way your breath hitches when you see their companion.  Sebastian is also dressed well, sporting a tweed three piece suit, shiny black dress shoes, and a gold auror badge attached to his lapel.  He meets your gaze briefly before looking back up to Andrew, who’s moving the chair back to its proper table.

“Emergency meeting,” Sebastian utters gloomily. “Ruined a good lunch.”

Your stomach twists at the sound of his voice.  It’s no more than six words, but your insides feel like a wet towel being wrung out.  And Sebastian doesn’t even have the decency to look at you, avoiding eye contact with the person he considered his best friend for three years.  The audacity of him, to completely ignore the person who once held his fate in their hands–you feel the bile rising in your throat, swallowing down the anger that once consumed you.

No, you won’t let a tiny interaction with Sebastian ruin five years of hard work.  You stare at the cutlery on the table, willing him to leave.

Andrew Larson sighs, rapping his knuckles against the table. “It was good seeing you girls,” he smiles. “Hopefully I run into you again.”

The three boys–men, rather, you are all twenty three at this point–shuffle away.  

There is a heavy silence between you and Poppy, until she clears her throat.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly.

You nod, collecting yourself as you smile at her. “Perfectly fine.  It’s been ages, Poppy. We’re all over it.”

She grabs your gloved hand, pulling it towards her.  “You certainly are,” she says playfully, twisting the sparkling bauble on your left ring finger. “It’s gorgeous, by the way.”

“I never get to wear it,” you admit sheepishly. It’s been a month since your engagement, and you’ve hardly worn your ring; your fiance’s parents are perturbed that the announcement hasn’t been posted to the Daily Prophet yet. Despite having courted for the last year and a half, it still feels like everything has moved too fast, like you’ve fallen off your broom mid flight. For the most part, your engagement ring is safely tucked in its box atop your dresser, at the risk of getting bodily fluids on it during your shifts.

“He’s a lucky man.” Poppy echoes, sitting back in her chair. “You are happy, aren’t you?”

You’re doing fine, you think.  You’re at the top of your field.  You have a fine flat in a nice part of London, and a promise from a man that’s kind to you.  The kind of man who waited for you to get off your shift to bring you breakfast, and took you to a nice restaurant on your Friday nights off. You hadn’t expected a pretty ring from him, especially since you only graced him with your presence once a week, but then again, your last relationship had taught you not to expect anything at all.

A flash of brunette hair crosses your mind; you blink away the thought.

“I’m happy.  Very happy,” you say simply, holding your teacup up to your lips again. “So about the manticores…”

You jolt out of bed, a blue wisp of a rabbit bouncing around your bedroom.  It’s rare to get a patronus message at this hour; it can only mean an emergency at the hospital.  It also must be bad, considering they’re calling you in on your day off.

Without another thought, you tumble out of bed, rushing to your wardrobe to pull out your clothes.  Your unit specifically wears a deep purple–dark enough to hide stains.  Your shrug on undergarments and petticoats, and a burgundy gown with a high neckline.  Your hands know exactly how to tighten your hair into a knot within a minute, having perfected the craft over the five years of your career. Your wand is stowed in your dress pocket; you’ll grab an apron at the ward.  Grabbing a fistful of floo powder next to your fireplace, you step in, yelling out for St. Mungo’s.

The ward is in a flurry as you step out of the flames.  A nurse hands you a white cotton apron, which you wrap around your waist as you hold your wand between your teeth.  There are men all over, gashed and bleeding, as other healers take their information. 

“What’s happened?” You bark at an orderly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Auror ambush by some ashwinders,” he says dryly. “It’s awful.  Lost a few–even more are bleeding.  It’s dark magic, some sort of spell to keep the wounds bleeding.”

“Of course it is, those bastards.” You mutter. “I’ll take the worst of them.  Can someone bring me a coffee?”

He nods, pointing over to a bay of beds a few feet away. “Those three–they specifically requested you.” He hands off the charts, promising a caffeinated beverage.

You’re about to start flipping through the charts when you hear your name.  Your head flies up at the familiar voice, and you feel the blood drain from your face. You can see Everett Clopton waving his hands at you; Andrew Larson’s voice is yelling behind the curtain.  And just your luck, a pair of black shiny dress shoes are dangling off the examination table, twisted in an unnatural way.

Before you even realize it, you’re running to them.  The charts are promptly cast onto the side table when you duck behind the curtain, a gasp catching in your throat.

Sebastian looks awful.  

Correction–Sebastian looks dead.

“He jumped in front of me,” Everett panics, his hands on his head. “He shouldn’t have–we were talking, we thought we were out of the thick of it–”

“He’s been hit badly,” Andrew interjects.  His sleeves are bloodied from trying to apply pressure to a gash across Sebastian’s chest, the blood seeping through his shirt and vest. “You have to do something,” he pleads. “He’s the best of us–we can’t lose him.”

“Move,” you urge the two of them.  They scoot out of your way, and you make quick work of Sebastian’s clothing.

Years ago, tearing off Sebastian’s shirt would’ve been done out of passion, out of love.  You push those thoughts out of your mind as you rip through his white dress shirt, which is sopping wet with blood. Sebastian’s skin is cold and clammy; even his freckles are pale, disappearing from his face.

“Get me some dittany and shrivelfigs,” you screech at the other healers. “And the blood renewing potions, please.” You run your hand and your wand over Sebastian’s wounds, uttering a healing charm. “Vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur,” you mutter under your breath.  The spell isn’t healing fast enough, Sebastian is still losing too much blood.

You let out the  blue wisps of magic from your fingertips as you channel some of your ancient magic into the healing spell. You’re still mad at Sebastian, of course, but you’ll be damned if he dies on your watch.  

To your relief, the wounds start knitting themselves shut faster, but the scars look awful, all purpled and raised.  Another healer is next to you, urgently crushing the dittany and shrivelfigs into a paste–an idea you got from the patient lying in front of you during your sixth year.  You’d been battered so often during Crossed Wands, the two of you had experimented with salves and balms to lessen the appearance of your scars. 

“He appears to be stabilizing,” the junior healer claims. “Good job, as always.”

You suppress the choked out cry that’s stuck in your throat as you think of Ominis, and how he used to scold the two of you for experimenting.  He’d be thankful now that you did.

“There’s others,” another healer urges you. “We must move on to the next.”

You don’t want to.  Sebastian seems to be stirring, groaning as the healer rubs the salve onto the gaping wound that streaks across his chest.  You can hear Everett and Andrew crying and laughing on the other side of the curtain, exclaiming your name for having saved their partner.

There’s so much commotion, you could swear Sebastian uttered your name, but when you look back, his head is flat on the table, eyes shut.  The color is slowly returning to him, now no longer pale and gray.

“We have to keep him for observation,” you instruct another healer, handing her Sebastian’s chart. “I’ll check on him later.  In the meantime, there are others.”

Without another glance, you move on to the next bay.

“Excellent work as always,” your boss pats you on the shoulder. “You saved six good men tonight with your quick work.”

“I should just move into the ward,” you mutter under your breath before taking a large swig of coffee.  

Your dress is stained with blood, fingers aching from all the healing you’d done.  From the twelve aurors in the ambush, three had superficial wounds (Larson and Clopton included).  Two had passed in the field, another before you’d gotten to the hospital.  But all six of the aurors you’d treated, Sebastian included, were now tucked into private rooms, safe and breathing. You were keeping them for observation, unsure of what kind of curse the ashwinders had used on them.  Your ancient magic managed to seal the wounds, but all were badly scarring.  They’d all have to stay until you could rule out the cause.

After a much needed shower and an owl sent to your fiance, regretfully informing him you’d not make it to brunch with his parents, you start making your rounds. Most of your patients are sleeping deeply, others dizzily asking what happened.  You save Sebastian’s room for last; Clopton and Larson, faithful companions, are sleeping in chairs outside of his room.

You quietly shut the door behind you, gulping as you stare at the man laying in the hospital bed. His chubby cheeks are long gone, hollowed and chiseled by age. You’d laughed at him when you were seventeen and he claimed he had a beard coming in; now you can see traces of stubble lining his jaw. His unruly chestnut hair has been brushed out of his face in a way you know he’ll hate.

But you don’t know that, not truly. Because you don’t know Sebastian anymore.

“Oh Sebastian,” you tut, sitting at a stool next to his bed. You hover your hands over his body, a misty blue glow emitting from them. No internal bleeding at least. He’s had at least three blood renewing potions, and his breathing is steady. You would examine the scars across his chest and torso, but the thought of undressing him in his current state is inappropriate to you. 

You’re about to get up, leave him to his slumber when you hear it. He whispers your name in his sleep, head falling to the side. And instead of him being the one with a gaping wound, you feel like a hole has been drilled into your chest. 

Maybe you’ll ask for tomorrow off.

Night Two

You’d asked for the day off again, but the request was denied.  Begrudgingly, you dress for your shift, tucking your hair behind your ears as you walk with your daytime counterpart down the hallway.

“You’ve missed all the commotion,” your fellow healer gasps.  She’s filling you in on the day shift, and all that’s transpired since you left in the morning. “There was a memory charm laced in with that blood curse from the ashwinders—some of them have lost weeks, years of memories. Not recognizing their wives or their children; we’ve had to close the doors to all visitors.”

“That’s a nasty curse.” You mutter, flipping through charts. Only someone sick in the head would mess with memory tampering curses—you wonder why no one has petitioned for them to be banned. The long term care wing at St. Mungos is filled with too many people who’d tinkered with memory spells, and you sincerely hope none of the aurors under your care end up there.

“Terrible, of course. But it made for an interesting day.” She hums. “You should’ve seen Rowle’s wife, security had to cart her out after he called her the wrong name. Think he courted her twin sister too.” 

You laugh with her as you walk through the hallway, until your heart fills with dread.  

“How is Sallow?  The patient in 213.”

She tilts her head. “Fine I think–oh, he was asking for you.  Do you know him?”

You fight back the red flush that’s creeping up your neck. “We were schoolmates.” You say. Nothing more. Sebastian can’t be more, especially after you’d done such hard work to forget him in the first place.

After your colleague has clocked out and you’ve checked all your other patients, you quietly rap your knuckles against Sebastian’s door.  It’s late enough at night that he might be asleep already, and you can avoid the entire awkward conversation.

“Come in!” 

Shit.

You open the door, and Sebastian is staring right back at you.  He isn’t scowling like you thought he would be–his eyes are bright, a beaming smile on his lips.

“They told me you were working the night shift.” he says happily, scratching at the collar of his hospital gown. “I stayed awake.”

“Right, Mr. Sallow,” You say curtly, eyes down at the chart in front of you. “It is late, you should be getting rest–”

“But I’ve been waiting for you,” he frowns. 

You look up at him, and instead of a grown man, you see the puppy dog eyes that got you in trouble the few years you had at Hogwarts. “Mr. Sallow, rest is essential to your healing. You’ve been through quite the ordeal, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Why are you talking to me like you don’t know me?” Sebastian asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Pet, it’s me.”

You inhale sharply, white knuckling the edge of the bed. “Sebastian,” you mutter (you hate how easily his name rolls off your lips still), “what year do you think it is?”

He rolls his eyes and chuffs. “It’s 1893, duh.”

“It’s not,” you sigh. “It’s 1898. You were in an ambush yesterday, and it seems the Ashwinders are using a memory curse as retaliation nowadays.”

He blinks at you for a moment, before he bursts into laughter. “Really?  I’ve lost five damn years in my head?  What have I missed? Don’t tell me we’re not married yet.”  Only Sebastian could be jovial about such a matter; all the others were utterly distraught at losing their memories.

“Sebastian, darling, we haven’t seen each other in five years.” you confess, moving to the edge of the bed.  Your voice is quiet, and although it’s been ages since you last called him darling, you think it might be too much on his poor heart if you don’t. The poor man just asked if you were married, for Merlin’s sake.

His smile fades. “What?”

“We…we went our separate ways five years ago.” You clear your throat. “It…it was a mutual decision.” you lie.  Was it a lie?  You honestly can’t remember.

“I would never,” Sebastian bites back.  “I would never break up with you.”

“Darling, it’s been a very long time,” you say softly, wringing your hands together. “And I’m okay–you’re okay.  We’re both doing well…just on our own now.”

“I can’t–this doesn’t make sense,” he jolts away from your touch, and you flinch. “Why would I ever agree to such a thing?” 

You can recognize the tell tale signs of panic on a patient’s face, so you hurry over to the cupboard, pouring a glass of water.  Sebastian is too far away to see you slip the vial of dreamless sleep into the glass, swirling it into oblivion.

“Here, drink this.  You��ll feel much better,” you assure him. 

Sebastian absentmindedly takes the glass, gulping down the water as he tries to make sense of the current situation. “It doesn’t make sense,” he mutters under his breath as he starts rubbing his eyes.  He’s fighting the effects, and he looks up at you, a deep set frown on his face. “You dosed me, dammit.” The glass rolls out of his hand and onto the bed, where you scoop it up. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, and it's sincere.  But you’re not equipped to handle Sebastian in such a state–you aren’t equipped to handle him, period.  It’s been five years since you’ve had to mind his temper, and your heart can’t handle the pain.  

Before you know it, Sebastian is knocked out, the dreamless sleeping draught taking over his body.  With his eyes tightly shut, you can finally examine him.  The scars across his chest are still purple, bruises lining his torso.  Your fingers dance across his skin trying to heal him, but alas, they stay.

You make notes on his chart, letting the other healers know he may be groggy and upset when he wakes in the morning. Even though they’ve put a no visitors policy on the aurors, you remind them to call upon Ominis and Anne to see if they can talk some sense into him.  

The last you’d asked Natty about Sebastian, he was happy.  He was climbing up the ranks in the auror office, and he’d finally moved out of Ominis’s spare room.  You’d cut her off once she started telling you how he was dating–that you didn’t need to know.

That had been two years ago.  You wonder what’s changed since then.

Night Three

Your pleas for a night off have gone unanswered.  Your boss tells you that you’re too integral to the auror case to be gone for more than twelve hours.  

There’s a note left by your fiance’s owl; he’s sad you missed brunch, but he’s excited to take you out on Friday, your next scheduled day off.  His mother is insistent the two of you sit for an engagement portrait that will be posted in the Daily Prophet to announce your impending union.  You fold the note and toss it onto your desk; when you have a free moment, you’ll write a letter explaining that you would like a lengthy engagement.

Planning a wedding and working the night shift is just too much work for you.  You twist your large engagement ring off your finger and put it in its box before taking the floo network to St. Mungo’s.

You’re barely five steps out of the fireplace before a body hits you.  

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Anne Sallow breathes, her arms enveloping you. “You saved him. He’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“Anne,” you sigh into her touch.  Similar to her brother, it’s been ages since you’ve seen her.  She’s still thin and delicate, but her bangs are long grown out. “What are you still doing here?  It’s so late.”

“Ominis and I wanted to catch you,” she claims. “The healers called us in to talk to Sebastian.”

“Right, I asked them to.” you say, smoothing your apron. “How was he today?”

Anne winces. “He’s…he’s still pretty confused.”

You give her a sympathetic smile, biting back the sarcastic words you had in mind. “It must be awful.”

Anne pulls away, digging her toe into the ground. “He keeps asking what happened between the two of you.  I’m not sure what to say.” she admits.

You bite your lower lip. “You can tell him the truth.  That we ended amicably.  That we were fine.”

“If you were fine, you wouldn’t have disappeared for five years.” a voice says behind you.

It only takes you a second to recognize the rich voice of Ominis Gaunt.  Whirling around, you throw your arms around the tall blonde.  It’s been ages since you’ve given him a hug let alone seen him, so he chuckles into your shoulder when you grasp him.

“I missed you,” you pat his cheek.

“We missed you,” Ominis hums. “I’m surprised St. Mungo’s would call me; I haven’t been Sebastian’s emergency contact for a while.”

You furrow your eyebrows as Anne takes Ominis’s arm. Why wouldn’t he be his emergency contact?  Ominis is his best friend, and having been together with Anne for so long, practically his brother.

That’s a question for another time, you decide.

“It’s late, you two should be getting home.  Visitor hours are over.”  you remind them.

“I’m not leaving before you promise to see me again,” Ominis says sternly. “Five years is far too long.”

You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Of course. Ominis, I’m sorry.  I just thought that when things ended, the two of you were best friends…”

“That was my decision to make,” he says softly. “Not yours.  I decide whose side I’m on.”

Ominis’s words warm your heart, but they also leave cracks.  Ominis and Sebastian were a package deal when you met them, and you’ve spent far too much of your time with the boys driving them apart. 

After much coaxing, Ominis and Anne take their leave.  You’re finally able to start your rounds.  Rowle is starting to regain his memories and they’ve allowed his wife back into the ward.  Travers still has a nasty gash on his leg that’s festering, but he’s otherwise remembering things from last week.  Cattermole is fast asleep, so you avoid his room to let him get some more rest.

Your hand falters on the handle of room 213, taking a deep breath before you push in.  Just as you thought, Sebastian isn’t asleep.  He’s sitting upright in bed, arms crossed over his chest, frowning at you.

“You’re looking much better,” you offer, shutting the door behind you.

“You gave me a sleeping draught last night,” he accuses you. “That’s not fair.”

“You were getting hysterical, Sebastian.” you remind him, flipping through his chart.  Nothing particularly new, and no memories back.  He’s spent the entire day asking for you, the chart says, and fighting with orderlies.  It mentions Ominis and Anne arriving, and that the two gentlemen had sharp words for one another. Ominis was right—he isn’t Sebastian’s emergency contact anymore. There’s an unfamiliar name, a woman.

“Open your shirt, please.”

Sebastian waggles his eyebrows at you. “Are you sure we’re not together?”

You roll your eyes. “Your cheekiness, I didn’t miss it.” you mutter, hands on your hips. “I need you to take your shirt off so I can check your wounds, you idiot.”

Sebastian gives you a familiar grin as he unbuttons his pajama shirt; he’s flexing his muscles, you can tell.  A pinch to his pectoral has him yowling, and he stops.  You grin at him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Perhaps we did break up,” he grumbles.

Sebastian’s breath stutters as your fingers prod at his scars. They’re still ugly and raised, but the color is improving. 

“I’m not sure there’s much more I can do,” you frown. “I think they’ll stay.”

“That’s fine,” Sebastian breathes. “You did always say you preferred when I was roughed up.” 

You give him a strained look. “Sebastian–”

“Please, listen to me.” Sebastian urges. “Ominis…he told me what happened between us. And I really, truly can’t believe we would let it get to that.” Your name is a gentle whisper from his mouth, and he pushes his brunette hair out of his eyes. “I didn’t mean to neglect you.”

You swallow thickly, backing up. “We were so young, Sebastian.  Let’s leave the past in the past, please.”

“Ominis and I haven’t spoken in two years.” Sebastian interjects. “He just told me.  Annie says we had a fight, and you were part of it.”

You turn around, shutting your eyes. “I don’t want to hear this,” you admit weakly.

Sebastian is rustling in his sheets; he lets out a low hiss as he adjusts his still healing torso. “If the version of me, the one that got cursed, isn’t talking to you, Anne, or Ominis…I don’t want to go back to that.  I don’t want to be that version of me.” Sebastian pleads. “If that’s the case, I don’t want to remember.”

“You have friends, Sebastian.” You remind him, turning to face him again. “You have friends, your job…” you trail off, picking up his chart again.  You pinpoint the section with his emergency contact; a woman who is likely sitting at home, worried sick over him. “You have a girlfriend, probably.  One who is desperate to see you.” There’s a lump in your throat as you try to imagine her, but your mind comes up blank.

“I don’t care,” Sebastian breathes. “She’s a stranger.”

“I’m the stranger,” you remind him. “Sebastian…I’m engaged. I’m getting married next spring.” 

That’s a lie–you and your fiance haven’t even discussed a timeline, but it seems more official to say it with a season.

The hope on Sebastian’s face crumbles, eyes wide as he stares at you.

“You’re engaged,” he croaks.

“Engaged.” The more you say it, the more it’s real. “He’s lovely.  You would like him.” Now that's an even bigger lie–Sebastian would’ve called him a prat if he met him. You appreciate your fiance’s softness and meekness, especially after having been with a firecracker hothead for most of your teens.

Sebastian is crumpled in bed, twisting onto his side. “I’d like to go to bed now,” he mumbles.  It was textbook Sebastian–whenever something didn’t go his way, he’d turn away from you in bed like a petulant child.  It’s almost a relief to see that he does the same thing at twenty three years old.

“If you ring the bell, someone will come to aid you.” You wave your wand, dimming the lights. “You can ask for someone else, if you’d like.”  

Sebastian doesn’t say anything as you shut the door, and when he does ring the bell for assistance, he requests anyone but you. It’s stupid to be upset over, it’s what you wanted–for him to stop pestering you.  

But you have a nice long cry in the potions ingredient cupboard anyways.  

The rest of your shift goes by uneventfully.  Rowle has regained his memories and will be discharged in the morning.  Cattermole finally woke up from his deep sleep and he’s on the mend, moved out of the intensive care ward. Travers has also been discharged, prescribed a salve to make sure the cut on his leg stays clean.  It leaves Roberts, Jorkins, and Sallow as your only three patients left from the case, and perhaps now your boss will let you take a night off.

Night Four

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” Sebastian says sheepishly.

“Whatever for?” You mumble, pressing a strip of gauze to his chest wound.  You’re trying a new salve recipe you’ve been working on, just to see if it’ll help break down the scar tissue.  His bruises are starting to go yellow, and if he works back up on his memory, Sebastian can be discharged from your ward.

“For being rude.” Sebastian sighs. “I’m…it’s starting to come back to me a bit now.”

You look up at him, eyebrows raised. “Is it?”

“We fought that night.” Sebastian swallows thickly. “You and me.  I can’t exactly remember what we fought about, but you threw a book at me.”

“And I hit your eyebrow.” You remind him.

“Lucky shot,” Sebastian rolls his eyes, and you have to suppress a laugh. He winces as you press the salve in; his body is still sensitive.

“I’m sorry for that.  I never got to apologize to you,” you admit, rubbing the mixture in. “But I was embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed about what?” Sebastian asks softly.

“For putting up with all of it,” you pat another piece of gauze over the salve.  Sebastian looks like a mess and he’ll have to sleep sitting up, but you’re hoping to salvage his handsome chest. There are a bevy of flower vases strewn across the room, and plenty of Sebastian’s favorite sweets piled on his bedside table.

“I see you had quite a few visitors today.” 

Sebastian nods, trying not to move too much. “Anne and Ominis again; he’s warming back up to me, I know it.” he brags. “Clopton and Larson too. I can’t believe I was paired up with two Ravenclaws as partners. That’s probably how I got all bungled up in the first place.”

“Everett said you were quite the hero,” you back away, admiring your work (and his muscles, he’s grown quite a bit since you last saw him).  “And they stayed the entire night when you first came into the ward, so I know they’re loyal to you.”

There is a silence between you two for a moment, until Sebastian breaks the tension.

“She visited earlier.” Sebastian echoed. “Rebecca.”

You turn away at the name; at least it’s not the girl you remember from your last argument.  “Rebecca is a lovely name,” you offer.  It’s all you can give him without treading into dangerous waters.  You’re engaged after all, and stuck patting balm into the chest of your former lover.

“She was distraught.” Sebastian hummed. “Hates the scars.”

You turn around, rolling your eyes. “She’s dating an auror, she should get used to it.” you scowl. 

“That’s what I said,” Sebastian laughs, trying not to move the salve covered strips. “But she wasn’t having it.  She was worried I would never look the same, so I broke up with her.”

You blink at him.  He seems completely unbothered.

“Sebastian!” You exclaim. “You shouldn’t break up with her over that alone.”

Sebastian shrugs. “Y’know, the boys filled in a few of the blanks for me.  Apparently, not very many people actually liked Rebecca and I together, so I guess it was impending anyways.”

You put your hands on your hips. “I cannot believe you broke up with your girlfriend because Everett Clopton and Andrew Larson told you to.” you shake your head. “She was your emergency contact, Sebastian.  You’ve probably been dating a while.”

“According to Clopton, I was planning on breaking up with her soon anyways.”

“Idiots, the lot of you.” You tut, washing your hands in the basin.

“We’d only been dating three months.” Sebastian interjects. “I put her as my emergency contact because I had no one else.  Ominis and Anne…well, they weren’t talking to me apparently.”

You don’t say anything, letting the water run over your hands.

“I guess I’ve been a real arse the last few years,” Sebastian echoes. “Everett said I hadn’t been quite myself since we…well, you get the gist.”

“Everyone is an arse when they’re eighteen,” you remind him. 

Sebastian snorts. “I’m sure you weren’t.”

“I think I might’ve been.” You chuckle under your breath. “Poppy always said I had a one track mind.  Only ever thought about myself, my career.”

“Well, it’s done a lot for you.” Sebastian offers. “Youngest lead healer in St. Mungo’s history.”

You roll your eyes. “The others think I’m a show off.”

“You’re gifted,” he shrugs, and a slice of gauze slips from his chest. “That’s all.”

“Lay back darling,” you advise him, stuffing a pillow behind his back to keep him comfortable. 

Sebastian does as you say, his hands balled up in fists at his side. “So, your fiance,” He trails off. “What’s he like?”

You purse your lips, pulling his sheets over his waist. “He’s nice.”

“Nice.  That’s it?” Sebastian snorts. “Surely he has some better attributes, you said yes to marrying him.”

“He’s calm, quiet.” you say, turning your back to put away the excess gauze. “He’s a junior secretary for the Minister of Magic.” turning back to Sebastian, you already know he has a smug smile on his face. “Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say,” you warn, wagging a finger.

“What?” Sebastian scoffs. “I would never say anything about an esteemed junior secretary,” he says dramatically. “Besides, you’re the one who thought it…”

“I didn’t think anything!” You laugh. “I just knew exactly what you were thinking.”

“And what is that?” Sebastian asks coyly.

“You were going to call him a pencil pusher,” you accuse.

Sebastian fakes a gasp, holding a hand to his chest. “My stars, I would never say such a thing.” 

“Stop it,” you laugh again, slapping his hand. “You’re ruining my hard work. I’ll have to do it again.”

“No,” Sebastian groans. “It’s cold.  I just want to put a jumper on, I don’t care about the scars.” he pouts.

“I need you to get better,” you hold your hands on your hips. “The auror office will have my head if I keep you here any longer when your colleagues are back home.”

Sebastian fumbles with the edge of the blanket. “And what would consider me healed?” 

“Well, I’d say besides the appearance, your physical wounds are fully healed.” You shrug. “But we can’t discharge you until your memories are back–or at least substantially returned.”

Sebastian is quiet, and he stays quiet until you finish putting away all your supplies.  You’re about to leave him, implore him to get some rest, when he clears his throat.

“Pet,” he says cautiously (he hasn’t used your old nickname since the second night of his stay).  

“Yes, Sebastian?” You ask, slipping your hands into the pocket of your apron.  When you look at Sebastian from the doorway, he doesn’t look like a twenty three year old man.  He looks like the Sebastian you used to know–the hotheaded eighteen year old who only ever got shy around you.

“Would you…could we be friends after this?” He asked lowly. “I know you said we haven’t seen each other in five years, and I know there’s some blame there on my end. But we’ve been through so much together, and you’ve saved my life.” he rambles. 

You once told yourself that if Sebastian Sallow ever came crawling back, you’d slam the door shut in his face.  The first year of your separation had been excruciating; the second had been dreadful.  Once you’d gotten on to your third year without him in your life, the pain had become bearable.  And once you’d gotten on to four years without him, you realized you didn’t think of him anymore.  In fact, you hadn’t thought of him at all until you saw him standing a few paces away from your tea table.

“Of course, darling.” You assure him. “Only if you promise me that you’ll actually sleep.”

Sebastian’s face lights up in a way you distinctly remember–the first time you’d seen it was when you arrived in Feldcroft to meet Anne when you were both fifteen.  He adjusts himself to the pillows as you wave your wand to dim the lights. 

You shut the door behind you, letting out a sigh when you’re out of sight.  You feel guilty calling Sebastian darling again–you’ve never even blessed your own fiance with his own nickname.  And despite your refusal of the situation, you can’t help the shiver you feel at the base of your spine when you hear Sebastian calling you pet again.

Perhaps being friends is not a good idea.

Night Five

Sebastian is asleep when your shift starts, and you nearly skip over his room.  But against your better judgment, you push into the door, knocking lightly.

The brunette man is slumped over, snoring lightly as if he were waiting for you.  At the sound of the door, he jolts, rubbing his eyes. 

“Why can’t you be on the day shift?” he complains sleepily. 

You chuckle. “I can leave you, let you get some rest.”

“No,” Sebastian clears his throat. “I’d like you to stay.” He shrugs off his shirt, proudly displaying his scars. “They still look like hell, but at least they aren’t purple anymore.”

You stride over, running your hands over them.  Your ancient magic was able to overpower the bleeding curse, but Sebastian will forever have a dip in his chest and bubbled over scars.  They’re at least turning pink, a much better place than they were a few days ago.

“They look great,” you pat his shoulder. “And once we get your memories back in order, we can get you home.”

Sebastian gives you a strange look. “Ominis came again during the day…filling in the blanks again.”

“And?” You ask softly, sitting in the chair next to him.

“Why did we break up?” Sebastian asks firmly. “Can you tell me? And don’t give me the whole spiel about us growing apart.  I want the details.”

You swallow thickly, looking down at your hands. “We were eighteen, Sebastian. I was careless, you were lonely, we were both focused on our careers and not on each other.” Truthfully, you had spent years thinking of the many ways you’d address this conversation, how you’d confront him if you ever saw him again. Now five years later and after having almost witnessed Sebastian’s death, the downfall of your first love is easily compounded into one simple sentence.

“You started working the night shift,” Sebastian says.

“I started working the night shift,” you echo. “I wanted to rise up quickly in the ranks, so I volunteered. I was working so many hours, and you were gone during the day at your job, so we barely saw each other.”

“I asked you to take time off.” Sebastian adds.

“And I said no.” you admit. “I told you that you were being insecure.  That my job was more important, because I was saving lives.” It’s one of the few shames you’ve compartmentalized over the past few years–that you’d ever downplayed the importance of his career compared to yours.

“I went out that night.” Sebastian whispers, looking at his hands. “And I didn’t come home until the morning.”

“It was my only night off of the week, and you came home at four in the morning, stinking of firewhiskey and perfume.” Your eyes shut, replaying the awful scene in your head.

“Did I?” he croaked. “Did I cheat on you, really?”

“No,” You shake your head, and he lets out a relieved sigh. “You said you could have.  You said you wanted to.” You add, rubbing the temples of your forehead. “That you were tired of living in half of a relationship, and that you’d wanted to kiss that girl.”

“You threw the book at me,” Sebastian says weakly. “And I smashed your mug.”

“I told you to go to her if you really wanted.” You admit. “And you left.”

“I stayed at Ominis’s that night.” he whispered. “I didn’t go to her.”

“I didn’t know that.  So I packed my things and left.” 

The silence hangs between the two of you, and all of the feelings you had at eighteen come flooding back.  After the fight, you apparated to Natty’s place, while Anne and Poppy had cleaned out your bits in the apartment. What was meant to be a one night stay turned into a week, and then more. After a month without word from Sebastian, you committed to the night shift, forsaking your friendships and social life for work.  Days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and before you knew it, you were promoted.  Sebastian Sallow was a blip in your timeline, a faded memory of teenage love.  He’d been just a memory until you saw him in Diagon Alley.  Your heart hadn’t felt anything but anger towards him until you saw his shiny black dress shoes.

“Did we throw it all away?” Sebastian asks sorrowfully.

“We became the people we needed to be.” You remind him. “Look at you, an auror.  A damn good one.  The kind that jumps in front of their partner to save them from a curse.” you assure him.

“And you’re a healer,” Sebastian inhales. “A bloody amazing one, that saved my life and five others.  I’m so proud of you.” Sebastian’s lower lip wobbles, and you know your heart is in danger.

“You seem to remember quite a bit,” You point out. “More than you let on.”

“I was talking to Clopton about you.  We thought the ambush was over, we were trying to get to a floo point so we could get Larson’s leg checked out.” Sebastian says. “I told him how beautiful you looked, and that you looked happy.” his voice cracks. 

“Sebastian.” It’s not a warning, just a statement.  A week ago you would’ve never said his name aloud, let alone thought of it.  But it feels right rolling off your tongue.

“Everett said something about you being engaged.  It’s…it’s fuzzy from there on, but I remember the fight.  And I jumped in front of him, but not just to save him.” Sebastian says, his fingers drumming on his stomach.

“Why?” You almost don’t want to hear the rest. It might upend your life entirely.

“I jumped in front of him because I knew I’d be okay.  That you would probably be at St. Mungo’s when I got there.” Sebastian said weakly.  “And I’d get a chance to see you again.”

“Sebastian, we’re different people now.” You remind him. 

“We’re better now.” Sebastian says, giving you pleading eyes. “I was an idiot when I was eighteen; I thought I was being a man, but I wasn’t.  And I’m not going to pretend that I’ve been happy the past five years–there hasn’t been another woman who’s made me feel the way you do.” he confesses.

“It’s been too long,” you try to say, but you know it's no use trying to argue with him.  From your first fight in the Undercroft at fifteen to the fight that broke you two up, Sebastian has never backed down.

Before you even realize it, Sebastian has reached his hand out, taking yours. He’s rubbing your left ring finger–the one missing your large, ostentatious engagement ring.

“Don’t marry him,” Sebastian croaks. “Please, don’t marry him.”

“Why?” you ask.

“Because I understand you now.” Sebastian says. “I understand you in a way I didn’t when I was younger.  And that’s good–it’s good for us now.  It wasn’t the right time then, but we could try again now.” he pleads.

“Four days ago when you saw me in Diagon Alley, you could barely look at me.” You remind him. “I should have you committed to the memory ward at this point.”

“Four days ago when I saw you, I was sick to my stomach with how happy you looked.” Sebastian admits. “I saw you from a distance, smiling at Larson and Poppy.  I couldn’t look you in the eye after seeing you smile.”

You want to tell Sebastian that your fiance is a good man.  That he loves you, cherishes you, and doesn’t fight with you.  But you can’t help being nostalgic as you hold the hand of your first love, who is currently begging you to end your relationship to risk it all again with him. Whatever strength you’ve mustered together in the last five years is about to break as his big brown eyes implore you to stay.

“Your memory seems back to normal,” you change the subject, standing up quickly.  You tug your hand out from his, smoothing your clammy palms against your apron. “I’ll put you down for discharge in the morning.”

“Don’t,” Sebastian warns. “Don’t run away.”

“You ran away.” You remind him.

“And I regret it, every day.” Sebastian says mournfully. “You were my first love.  You were going to be my only love, and I fucked it up.”

“We both made mistakes, Sebastian.” You say, staring down at your feet. “You need to get some rest.  I’ll leave you be.”

He’s arguing as you step through the door, wringing your hands together.  The thoughts running through your head aren’t right–no, they’re crazy.  Except your feet keep walking towards the ward matron’s desk, gripping the stone top.

“Are you alright, dear?” she asks, frowning.

“I need to go home,” you confess, scribbling what little notes you have onto Sebastian’s chart. “There’s something I have to do.”

Thirty minutes later (your on call replacement is displeased to have been woken up late at night) you’re back in your flat.  Your mind is buzzing as you pace in the bedroom, thinking about the idea gnawing at your brain.

It would be insane.

You haven’t talked in five years.

He’s emotional after having been saved from the brink of death.

He broke up with his girlfriend on the spot, because she wasn’t you.

Sebastian is most well known for his unwavering support and adoration.  At least he was when you were younger.  Sebastian had always been encouraging, cheering you on through crossed wands, battles in the highlands, and even when you got your first job offer from St. Mungo’s. He’d been crazy about you–obsessed with you, even.  The two of you had been the couple of your year when you graduated.  

Sebastian had only ever faltered once, and it ended your relationship.

Don’t marry him.  

The words replay in your mind.  It makes you realize your stomach has flipped more in the last four nights than it has in years.  That your even tempered fiance, a kind but boring man, has not once made you feel what you’ve felt in the past week being back in Sebastian’s presence.

It is insane, you think. But you’d rather take feeling than nothing at all.

Digging through your dresser, you pull out the box holding your engagement ring.  

Night Six

It has been a long, long day.

What time you would have spent sleeping is spent assuring your now ex-fiance that nothing untoward has happened.  That you appreciate his kindness and companionship over the past year, but that you cannot lie to yourself. 

You cannot marry him because you don’t love him as you should.

You prepare for the night shift with a spring in your step, because when you get there, you’re heading straight to Sebastian’s room.  You’re going to tell him what you’ve done, and hope that he’s still feeling just as crazy as you. You pull your hair into its usual bun, wishing you could wear something a little nicer to what will be your reunion.  Sebastian used to love when you wore green; perhaps you’ll buy a green dress the next day you’re off.

When you get to the ward, it’s quieter than usual.  Holding your wand between your teeth again, affixing the white apron, your heart beats out of your chest as you approach room 213.  

This is it.  This is the start of the rest of your life.

You push through the doors of 213, but your breath stutters when you see the empty bed.  It’s stripped of any linens, and all of the flowers and candy boxes Sebastian’s colleagues sent are gone.

“Where is the patient in 213?” you whip around, grabbing the closest orderly.

They give you a curious look. “Discharged this morning–you put it in their paperwork.”

You swallow, and it feels like shards of broken glass are tumbling down your throat. “I…I did.”

“Isn’t today your day off, too?” They tilt their head at you. “Honestly, it feels like your head hasn’t been screwed on at all this week. Might want to take some focus potions, ma’am.”

“Uh, right.” You admit, turning red.  You were so excited at the prospect of seeing Sebastian again, you completely forgot that Fridays were your nights off from the ward. You were rather busy after all, imploding your life. “”Does it say who picked him up?”

They shrug, flipping through the charts again. “He was taken to his home in Diagon Alley by his sister and brother-in-law.”

You curse under your breath as you try to plot a plan.  There’s no way Ominis still lives in the small flat he had when you last saw him, and you have no idea where Sebastian lives.  The ward doesn’t have an address either, so you’re shit out of luck.

Unless…unless you were to find one of his loyal partners.

Apparition is frowned upon inside of St. Mungo’s, but you’ll take a scolding from the matron ward on Saturday. You immediately apparate to the Leaky Cauldron, where most of the ministry’s aurors spend their evenings.  You know this because you’ve been avoiding the biggest pub in Diagon Alley for five years, hoping not to run into your ex.

The crowd stares at you in your St. Mungo’s uniform; you push through throngs of ministry employees, all wearing fine suits and dresses from their day jobs.  Your eyes scan the room, heart losing hope by the second, until you spot Everett and Andrew sitting with a gaggle of your classmates from Hogwarts, Natsai Onai included.  Andrew elbows Everett at the sight of you, and Clopton beams as if he’s won a bet.

“Hi,” you say breathlessly, approaching the group. 

“Figured you might turn up.” Larson teased. “Gaunt, Clopton, and I had a bet on how long it would take.”

“What’s going on?” Natty asks, clearly confused. She says your name, tilting her head. 

“I need his address,” You gasp. “He wasn’t at the ward when I got there–”

“Anne and Ominis picked him up this morning.” Everett says, pulling out his wand and a paper napkin.  He aimed his wand at the scrap, delicately burning an address into the paper. “He doesn’t live far from here. Perhaps you’ll keep him from spending too much time at the pub now.”

“Who doesn’t live far?” Natty asks again, elbowing Andrew.

“Sallow, of course.” Larson winks. “You two had enough time to talk it through, yeah?”

“What the bloody hell–they haven’t spoken in five years,” Natty claims with wide eyes. She gives you a look, and you can’t do anything but shrug.

“Near death experiences will change you,” Everett says smugly, taking a sip of his tankard. “Well go on then, what are you still doing here?”

You mouth an apology to Natty; you’ll have to explain it to her someday soon.  For now, you’re pushing through the crowd, trying to get out the door.  Looking down at the napkin, Everett Clopton is right; Sebastian lives maybe a stone's throw away from the pub.  Your feet are pounding on the cobblestone of Diagon Alley, looking like a blue wisp to any passersby.  

Before you know it, you’re turning onto his street, with only the lamps in front of each door illuminating the numbers.  You stop, gasping for air, trying to find the right one.  Of course he’s at the end of the row, a dark green door with a gold knocker.  It’s late now, the sky pitch black, as you start pounding.

It takes only thirty seconds for the door to swing open; Anne is standing behind it, looking shocked.

“You’re here,” she breathes.

“I told you she would,” you hear Ominis yell from the inside. “Clopton owes me ten galleons.”

“Can I come in?” you ask.

Anne bites back a smile. “Of course you can.”

You walk into Sebastian’s home; despite having never seen it, it positively reeks of him. There are touches of him all over the house–from the books stacked in the hallways, to the shoes messily kicked in the parlor room.  He has trinkets from his travels on the mantle, and you can see he still leaves his teacups all over the house (something you once fought over–it seems endearing now).  

Ominis is in the sitting room, lounging on a chaise. “Took you long enough.” he says teasingly. “I was rather surprised you abandoned him last night.  He was absolutely bereft when we picked him up in the morning.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you admit sheepishly, digging your toe into the carpet. “I…I just had something I had to do first.”

“A break up and a make up in one day, you’re a busy woman as always.”

“Shut up.”

Ominis gives you a toothy grin; something he saves only for those he loves. “I missed you.” he stood, pulling you into a tight hug. “I can only hope Sebastian doesn’t bungle it all up and we lose you all over again.”

You press your nose into Ominis’s shoulder; it seems silly you ever thought you could live without this group of people in your life. 

“I thought you were mad at him,” you say, pulling back to look up at the blond.

“I was mad that he was being stubborn,” Ominis says softly. “That he wasn’t being himself, drinking every day and dating girls who weren’t right for him.  I told him he had to pluck up the courage to speak to you again, or get over it and make peace with his life.  He’s been rather stuck, as you can imagine.”

You have been too, you think.

“Is he upstairs?” You ask, turning to the slim staircase. Anne is standing next to the railing, giving a signature Sallow smirk.

“He might be asleep,” Ominis warned. “But he is. First room to the left.”

You squeeze his hand in thanks before walking up the stairs.  The floor creaks underneath you as you push in the door; Sebastian is laying in his bed, sleeping fitfully. You nearly knock a stack of books over as you kneel next to his bed; you also recognize the book on his side table, the spine dented from when you threw it at his face five years ago. It reminds you of the shattered mug you keep on your desk.  Perhaps you two have been subconsciously keeping pieces of each other around.

Sebastian stirs as you brush his brunette hair out of his face.  He opens one eye, then the other, blinking furiously as he tries to sit up.

“You’re here,” he groans, a hand flying to his torso. “Is this a good visit, or just a hospital house call? Because my scars are killing me now that I’m home.”

You give a watery chuckle. “It can be both, if you like.”  You pull the blanket aside, examining his puckered skin.  The scars will stay for good, but that’s fine.  You did always like it when Sebastian was roughed up anyways.

“You’re here.” Sebastian repeats, only this time it's softer.

“I had to go to the Leaky Cauldron to get your address from Clopton.” you admit, blue waves emitting from your fingertips as you try to take away some of the physical pain. “But yes, I’m here.”

“By the sound of our last conversation, I thought you were done.  That we were just going to have to live with our mistakes.” Sebastian breathes.

“I wanted to say more, but there was something I had to do first.” you sit on the bed; Sebastian adjusts to give you more room, taking your hands in his. “I had to give back the engagement ring.”

“You did?” Sebastian asks hopefully.

“Seeing you…being around you for the first time in five years…” You’re trying to compound all of your feelings in a simple sentence, but it doesn’t feel like enough. “It made me realize I just didn’t love him.” You confess. “I shouldn’t feel the way I’ve felt seeing you.”

“Pet,” he murmurs, putting a hand to your cheek. “You’ve saved my life. I can’t ask anything more from you.”

“Then can I?” You ask, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes as you place your hand over his. Sebastian’s hand is warm and familiar, fitting perfectly against you.

“Ask me anything,” Sebastian echoes.

“Let’s try again.” you whisper.  

Sebastian scoots over, making space on the bed for you.  You don’t care if anyone else has slept in it over the five years you’ve been apart; something about the way Sebastian melts against your touch tells you he’s only ever belonged to you in the first place. 

“Let’s try again.” Sebastian whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss to your lips.  It feels positively electric, like it’s awoken something that’s been dormant inside you for five long, sleepy years.  You take good care not to press too much of your weight onto a still recovering patient, but Sebastian does everything in his power to draw you closer.  His hands start pulling pins out of your hair, the tight bun coming unraveled as he weaves his fingers through your tresses.

“You’re still healing,” you remind him as he starts working on the buttons of your dress. “And your sister is downstairs.”

“I don’t care,” Sebastian murmurs into your skin, tugging your collar down to press a kiss at the base of your neck. “We’ve waited long enough, haven’t we?”

You have, you think.  So you let Sebastian ravish you with kisses, blushing when you hear Ominis loudly call up the stairs that he and Anne are leaving.  You only leave the bed to unlace your dress, Sebastian eagerly watching as you strip the fabric from your body.  He groans in a good way when you press kisses to his chest, fingers dancing across the scars on his chest.  Not all scars would disappear, and there would always be reminders of the past.  But it was good to acknowledge them, to know that they were there, and that they were healed.  

The two of you stay awake the entire night reacquainting yourselves with each other’s body; the sun is streaming through Sebastian’s curtains when you realize you’ve been awake since Thursday night, running off adrenaline. Your eyes begin to droop as Sebastian presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Go to sleep, pet.” he whispers. “I’m right here.”

You’ll have to call in again, you think. You need an entire day of sleep after this week.  And the next time you get to the ward, you’ll turn in your official notice, asking to move to the day shift.

[ziggyzolch]

Queen Bee-atch III (Regina George x reader)

These chapters have been up on ao3 and wattpad but I figured i'd put them here as well.

Warnings: Cursing, use of F-slur but its kind of stupid so dont worry

✮✮✮

“You look like hell.” It was Thursday and Janis had invited you over. “Thanks,” you mumble out while pushing past her into her house. You could navigate her house blind, it's basically your second home now. You go into her room and flop straight into her bed. “You still having trouble sleeping?” Janis asks while plopping down onto the floor. She was surrounded by music sheets and crumpled up paper, her guitar on the ground next to her. You sluggishly sit up and look at her, “Yeah, I just can’t stop thinking.” “About what?” “Nothing, I don’t know,” You push the palms of your hands against your eyes.

You and Janis have weekly jam sessions. Chilling with your best friend and learning new songs to play together was your favorite pastime. Damien joins occasionally and sings along since you and Janis can’t sing for shit. At least you think so.

“Let’s just find a song then you can nap on my bed or something.” Janis proposes. Getting up, you pick up the acoustic guitar at the corner of the room and make your way to where she was seated. This week was your turn to pick a song.

“You’ll love this song. I discovered it recently and-”

“It’s Alex G again, isn't it? The chords he uses are so weird!”

“Yeah but-”

“Please tell me you have another song.”

You sigh, “I really thought you’d agree to that one. Let’s just play ‘Where is Your Mind’ or something.”

Janis is tuning her guitar when you get a text from your mother.

-We’re going shopping. I expect you to be at the mall in 20 minutes.-

You groan and lay your whole body onto the ground. “I know I’m already here but can I get a raincheck on the session? My mom is dragging me to go shopping” You sigh while getting up. “Yeah, no worries.” Janis replies, unbothered. God you really needed to sleep.

✮✮✮

“Seriously, mother?” Your mom was holding up a pink shirt with ‘baby gurlz’ plastered on the front. She had dragged you to the mall to upgrade your wardrobe. You needed new clothes because, according to your mother, you looked like an ‘emo beggar’. Your mother rolls her eyes “You dress like a hobo that lives at Hot Topic, baby. No offense.” It’s been 3 hours since you came in and you hadn’t found anything you liked. You take the shirt out of her hands and place it back on the rack.

“Can we just go home? I have an English test tomorrow and I haven’t started studying.” The lie comes out easily. In reality, you just wanted to nap. It’s been 3 days and you’ve gotten a total of 2 hours of sleep. A sigh comes out of your mothers mouth, “You know what, go sit in the car, you’re wearing whatever I buy you. Your outfit is going to be on your desk tomorrow morning.” She could buy you a dinosaur onesie and you wouldn’t care, you just wanted to nap.

✮✮✮

Unsurprisingly, the nap plan didn’t work out. You passed out eventually though, an hour before school, but at least it was something. You were now at your locker, clad in a white crop-top and baby blue skirt that was way too short. You hadn’t actually realized what your mother had picked out until a wide-eyed Damien grabbed your shoulder and dragged you to the bathroom. “Girl, what are you wearing? Also, did you lose weight?” You look at Damien confused, until you turn to the mirror. “Oh what the f-”

“Damien? What poor girl did you drag- the fuck?” Janis looks at you in shock, Cady standing behind her, while you stare back equally mortified. “You look like a pastel emo, dude.” Janis says while walking up to you and spinning you around. You stomp your foot. “Stop! I already feel bad enough.” You whine while pushing Janis off you and turning back to the mirror. Damien walks up behind you and stops your hands that were pulling at your shirt. “Girl you got bod, and those clothes lowkey look good on you.” Your eye roll is interrupted by the bell ringing. Shit.

Your thoughts start going crazy as you’re walking to English class. God they can see my legs! They probably know you don’t usually wear skirts. They’re probably all like: ‘look at her. You know she usually doesn’t wear skirts?’

Before you know it, you're sitting at your desk in English class, looking at your notebook. When did you get here? Huh, time flies when you’re having fun. You’re giggling at your own joke when you hear someone clearing their throat next to you. Regina?

“Did you hear anything I just said? Are you even actually physically present? It’s like I’m talking to a wall.” Regina raises an eyebrow waiting for a response. “Oh uh, hi.” You mumble out pathetically. She lets out a mocking ‘hi’ before continuing, “Anyways, I’ll pick you up after school for our project.” Project? What? You look up at the board and finally notice the list of instructions written down for a book report you had to do, with details of the partners the teacher had assigned. How much of the class had passed? Your question is answered when the bell signaling the end of the period rings.

You stand up too fast and start swaying before Regina gets up and holds you by your waist to steady you. “Woah there, slow down babe,” She pauses and looks you up and down. She bends down slightly to stare directly into your eyes and taps your cheek, “Cute outfit. See you after school.”

She packs her things and walks past you into the hallway.

You really need to sleep.

✮✮✮

It's like the bottom of your skirt was a mountain climber the way it kept hiking up with every step you took. At least it's almost the end of the day. One more period and you'd be on your way home. You were dragging your feet across the hall when you felt a slap on your ass. You turn around to see one of the jocks ,that you couldn't for the life of you remember the name of, smirking down at you.

Curse him out! Why are you just standing there? Your mouth flops open and closed like a fish, trying to come up with a devastating insult.

"F-Faggot."

...What the fuck? Your eyes widened. Before you could properly process what you said, you were pushed up against a locker with the jock impossibly close to you. "Say that again, slut." He grits his teeth, pushing you further into the locker. You're suddenly released and a very angry Regina was holding him by his shirt collar. "Apologize to her." You'd hate to be on the receiving end of the glare she's giving him. He scoffs, "You've gotten soft, Regina. Anyways, I was just giving her a compliment!" Regina's eyes somehow harden even more. "If the next words that come out of your mouth aren't an apology, Shane. I swear to god." His confidence falters and he eventually mumbles out an apology. "Walk away, and take your micro-penis with you."

Regina hears a giggle from below her and her eyes soften as she sees you on the floor. She helps you up and adjusts your clothes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, it's whatever."

She stares at you for a second.

"Take out your phone."

"What? Why-"

She pulls your phone out of your hand.

"I'm putting in my number, idiot."

What?

"For the project? I'm picking you up after school, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Pfft. Totally."

Giving your phone back and rolling her eyes, she turns away and leaves. From the corner of your eye you catch Janis and Damien stomping over. "Dude, why were you talking to Regina? Also our plan is working, Caddy's growing on them." You look at Janis, confused before she continues, "You need to sleep dude. Whatever we have health together let's find Caddy and get to class." Damien puts his arm around you and you all start walking. "What were you talking about with Regina, by the way?" He questions while adjusting his arm around you, "We got paired up for a project. A book report or something." You avoid bringing up the fact that you got harassed.

You love Janis and Damien, truly, but they tend to be a little overprotective. "Hah! What a nightmare!" Janis laughs. You look down at the floor, your face turning slightly red, mumbling, "She isn't that bad." The conversation dies out as you approach the classroom, Cady greeting you at the door. "Hey! So, Aaron invited me to this Halloween party..." Cady's voice fades as you sit down and put your head down onto your desk.

✮✮✮

"Nice room, Blondie." You say, going further into Regina's room. She had been waiting for you outside the school in her convertible, making it impossible for you to get out of spending time with her. Despite her recent tolerability, you couldn't forget how she used to treat you.

Regina smiles, "Thanks, Y/N. It was my mom's but I made her trade it."

"Woah. 'Y/N'? Are you going soft on me, Blondie?"

"Shut up."

You walk around her room and spot a couple of vinyls. Green day? My Chemical Romance? The Yeah Yeah Yeahs? The Strokes! What!

"Blondie, you have taste?"

Regina flips around and stomps towards you, taking the 'Stereophonics' vinyl out of your hands. "Stop going through my shit, Gerard." Back to square one.

She watches you adjust your skirt and pull at your shirt uncomfortably. Walking into her closet, she finds a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt she hadn't worn in years. You were awkwardly standing in the middle of her room before you felt a bunch of clothes hit your face.

The shock passes and you smile at her gratefully while she rolls her eyes and takes a seat at her desk. Should you go to her bathroom? Whatever, she's already seen you shirtless. Her face turns red while she pretends not to notice you changing in front of her. You finish up and take out your laptop, taking a seat on the floor. She swivels her chair to face you, "So, what book were you thinking?" You look up at her, slightly shocked. You didn't think she'd give you a choice.

"Oh. Uh. The Bell Jar?"

"Too bleak."

"It ends nicely though!"

"No! Pick something else."

"Okay, uh, My Year of Rest and Relaxation?" You propose with an eyebrow raised.

She glares at you.

"Are all the books you read just about mentally ill women?"

You sigh, "Pretty much. Oh! What about Matilda!"

She opens her mouth to argue, then pauses for a moment.

"Actually that doesn't sound too bad. Matilda it is."

✮✮✮

An hour passed before Regina looked up from her report and found you curled up on her floor, your laptop discarded to the side. After putting away your laptop, she approaches you and stares down at you. Hands on her hips, she looks around before letting out a breath and picking you up. "Gina?" You mumble out.

She shushes you and places you on her bed. "No. No, it's fine. I have to finish the report." Attempting to sit up, you whine when she pushes you back onto her bed. "We have a week till it's due. Rest." She leaves no room to argue as she tucks you in. "No! Oh wow. Your bed is so comfortable." Your eyes start drifting close and the last thing you see is Regina placing a kiss on your head.

✮✮✮

"I mean I've been dressing up as a mouse since freshman year, why would I change now?" Karen's voice takes you out of your blissful slumber. How long have you been asleep? "You're barely even a mouse, Karen." You could hear Gretchen reply. The sun had started setting, from what you could tell. You sit up, rubbing your eyes and looking around the room. Gretchen and Karen were sitting on the floor while Cady was laying above the sheets next to you. "Hey sleepyhead!" Cady pinches your cheek and tackles you when you try to push her away. She straddles your waist and starts tickling you. "Dude!...Stop!" You say in between giggles.

"What's going on here?" Regina must've been in the bathroom, "Finally up? I was getting ready to call the funeral house, Gerard." She was wearing sweatpants and a tank top. You accidentally glance down at her chest and turn away quickly, blushing, unaware of Regina's knowing smirk. She must've changed when you wear asleep.

Cady finally stops her assault on you. "Ha. Ha" You roll your eyes, moving to get up when Cady grabs your arm and pulls you back down, "Did you wrestle a bear or something?" Looking down to see what she was talking about, you notice a huge hand shaped bruise on your shoulder. You can feel everybody's eyes on you. "Oh, I fell during PE. It's nothing" You shrug her hand away and rub your shoulder, walking towards the walk-in closet, ignoring Regina's eyes burning a hole in your back. Bending down to pick up your clothes, a bright pink book catches your attention.

"Hey. Why didn't you tell Cady about Shane- No!" Regina's eyes widen as rushes towards you and pulls the book out of your hand. It's too late, your page had been the first one you found when you opened the book. Standing up, your voice wavers, "Thank you for being so accommodating, I'll get out of your hair now." You bump your shoulder into her getting out of the closet, hurting yourself more than her.

The silence that followed after you slammed the door on your way out was loud. Regina plops down next to Karen and Gretchen, Cady following after her. Running her hands through her hair, Regina sighs and stares at her bedroom door.

"Fuck."

✮✮✮

[hellfire--cult]

SoftDom!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

wc: 4k

+18 MDNI, SOME fluff, smut, p in v, fingering, blowjob, rough sex, bondage, breeding kink, dirty talk, non-safe sex, reader being a bratty fiancé

Plot: The pandemic had its ups and downs. One of the good things it brought was the fact that your husband can forever work remotely from home. But you sometimes get a little needy.

A/N: Just filth. Pure filth.

please always reblog, thank you

HOME OFFICE

The pandemic had its ups and downs.

You for one, didn’t mind staying home, but you did miss your friends and family terribly. You’ve always worked online and remotely at home for a company outside the country, so that wasn’t something that changed for you like it did for many others.

In those many others, it includes your husband.

You thought he would return to the office as soon as it was declared that you could head outside, but no such thing happened. It seems that there’s more productivity from people working at home rather than going physically to the workplace. You don’t work 9-5 like your husband does, so you have time to clean the house a little bit, cook lunch and dinner. 

He would always be so grateful for the food. Sometimes he would be in a meeting and you would come in very quietly and place the plate of food and a glass of water on the corner of the desk and then head out. Twenty minutes later your husband would rush out of the room as soon as the meeting was over to pepper your face in kisses as if to say thank you for the attention. 

But there were times when your husband wasn’t having the best of days. 

Working from home also stresses you out sometimes, because you are overwhelmed with stuff because, since you’re more productive, they give you more things to do. That’s just what they do to your poor husband. But there are times that he overworks himself just because he thinks he needs to.

Like today.

“Baby, you should’ve gotten off work two hours ago…” You cooed at him from the doorway, wearing a silk robe on your body and just that. For the past week your husband has not been paying attention to you, and it’s because he is just being a people pleaser. 

“I’m just trying to finish this sheet sweetheart, promise I’ll get off soon.” That wasn’t the answer you wanted from him at all. 

“Steve…” You were whining now, and his head turned to look at you for a second, and that’s when you saw the instant click in your husband’s eyes.

Your husband was overall sweet, and very dutiful. He was always considered the mom of your group of friends, even though you were right there. Always taking care of others before himself, and always being one step ahead of stuff in order to say ‘already took care of it’.

But there was a side that only you knew about your husband. You got to know it when you two were one year into the relationship, three years ago. You two had just moved in together, and you were cranky for not being able to sleep comfortably in your new bed, taking your time to adjust into it. 

So of course, you were snappy at everything your husband did wrong, even if it was leaving the toilet seat up, or leaving one single used spoon in the sink. That night, you got to meet a side of your boyfriend you never expected from him, yet you were delighted, and your mood instantly got better afterwards.

This side of him is only triggered… when you’re being a brat.

“I am working. Don’t whine.” Steve said in a very stern voice, a voice that only ignited the heat between your legs even more than before. His eyes returned to the computer as he began typing away. 

You licked the inside of your cheek and you strutted towards the desk which was in the middle of the room, putting both of your hands on the edge that was on the other side of him, and you leaned forward, looking down at your husband.

“I whine cause you haven’t been paying attention to me for the past week.” He only gave you one glance, not caring for how much you were showing your cleavage to him, and his eyes went back to the screen in front of him, his fingers never stopping from typing. You could see the reflection of the computer on his glasses, and it just irritated you even more.

“You know there’s always a week that I’m full of work. We’ll do whatever you want tomo–”

“Now!” You stomped your foot with a whiny cry, as if you were a child, but you were tired of being pent up because of this, and he closed his eyes with a sigh, but you could also hear a groan in his throat.

“Don’t be a fucking brat.” He called your name, a threat, and you straightened up after that, and he didn’t say anything else. He resumed his typing and you were angry. Seething. You had two options right here: One of them was to walk out of the room, take care of yourself in the room, and then go cook dinner…

Or…

You dropped on your knees and immediately crawled under the desk, finding his legs that were covered in grey sweatpants as your hands started from his ankles, and slowly gliding them up, biting your bottom lip as you reached his thighs. You heard him take a deep intake of breath, but the typing never stopped, which only made you even more frustrated.

You hummed as you reached his bulge, and you smirked as you found some hardness in the pants. You did rile him up when you walked into the room. You pressed your hand onto it and you felt him move, even if slightly, on his chair. You started rubbing onto it, slowly, and you could feel his cock getting harder by each stroke, a tent starting to form under the cloth.

Your hands then went to the hem of his pants and you bit your lip, not knowing if he will comply and help you take his sweatpants off, but as you tugged, you saw him raise his hips up and in a quick move you pulled both of the pants and boxers down, letting them pool around his ankles.

His dick sprung up, hitting on his stomach with a smack. You bit your lip as you scooted closer, your nails scratching onto his thighs as they moved up and up. He was still sitting straight as he typed away on his computer, but you didn’t care any longer. You just needed him in your mouth.

You leaned forward in order to spit right at the pink tip and then your hand ran all over it to gather your saliva, and use it as lubricant as you started pumping him, slowly, up and down, causing his dick to twitch in your hand as it became fully hard in your grip. A smile appeared on your lips as you heard the typing stop for a second and then resumed as if he had never stopped.

You then guided your mouth close to the tip, running your tongue all over the slit, and then you did the one thing that makes him crazy, which is licking on his frenulum, right under the head. You flicked on it going from side to side in a fast motion. You heard a growl above you, and you smirked as you finally took him into your mouth.

You used your hand in order to help yourself as you started bobbing your head up and down on him, slowly, at your own pace in order to taste him as you liked. The hint of saltiness started and you knew that he was starting to leak precum as you kept moving, your other hand grabbing onto his thigh for leverage.

You pulled him out of your mouth so you could press soft kisses along the shaft, to then lick from the bottom and up, giving a kiss to the head and then gliding your tongue onto the slit, giving a soft press there. You took him back into your mouth as you started becoming wetter at each bob of your head.

And then you heard it. Or well, you didn’t hear it anymore. The typing had stopped, and then a slam happened, making you pull away from him, hand still wrapped around his dick as you sat there, waiting for whatever was happening. He sat back on his chair and looked down at you underneath the desk.

You shivered as you looked up at your husband who had a frown in his eyebrows and his jaw was completely clenched, going slightly to the side that displayed his anger. His hand immediately went to the back of your head, grasping tightly onto the hair there, making you wince as he pulled your face towards his dick again, smashing it against your cheek.

“You want to be a slut? Fine. Put my cock back into your fucking mouth.” 

You whined as you complied, opening your mouth to take him in again, but you couldn’t even  wrap your hand around him to help you as you felt him guide your head down on him. He was being rough, and it almost hit the back of your throat, but he pulled on your hair to bring you back up again, only to make you plunge you back down again.

Your hands gripped onto his thighs as his other hand went to untie the tie that was on his neck. Just like everyone that works remotely does, he dresses nicely on his upper body, and then comfortably on his bottoms for the online meetings where his camera has to be on. He slid the black tie off and threw it on the desk as he kept bobbing your head up and down on him.

“You couldn’t fucking wait for a few more minutes.” You hummed against his cock as he put both of his hands now on each side of your head. “Through your nose.”

And you knew what this meant, so you started taking in air through your nose and that’s when he shoved your head down as he pushed his hips up at the same time, making him hit the back of your throat. Your eyes become teary as your face flushed, a gurgle of saliva vibrating in your throat as he pulled you back up and put his hips down, only to repeat the previous action again.

You were gagging on his cock as he throat fucked you intensely, feeling the walls of it already bruising from how rough he was being with you as he gripped onto your head, his fingers clenching on your hair. Your nails were digging into his thighs as you kept yourself on your knees.

“Look at those fucking tears.” You heard him chuckle in between his groans as his hips kept thrusting up into your mouth. “You wanted my cock, so you are going to take it how I like it.”

Said tears were running down your face like a waterfall from the intensity of it all, feeling your throat becoming sore and the gags were already making your stomach turn a little bit. You gave him a tap on his thigh and he took notice of that, stopping his movements all together, and pulling your head up.

You took a sharp intake of breath with a gasp. Saliva mixed with precum was sliding down from the corner of your lips as you huffed for air. His face came close to yours, and he didn’t even look fazed by what he had done to you. 

“Color?” And behind the roughness, your husband was still there. The sweet husband that always took care of you first beyond everything else. You gulped in order to get saliva in your throat once more, letting you talk clearly.

“G-Green…” 

He stood up abruptly from the chair, making it fall back behind him and he raised you up on your two feet by the hair. You yelped in pain but before you could continue with a whine, his lips clashed against yours. You moaned against the kiss and you wanted to wrap your arms around him, but you knew better than that, so you kept them dangling on your sides. 

His tongue invaded your mouth without permission, making you whine in need and then you felt his hand rip open your silk robe, shoving it away from your body with his big hands. The chill air hitting your breasts, perking the nipples up instantly, hardening the bud. One of his hands immediately cupped one of your tits, and pinched onto the nipple, harshly.

You yelped onto his tongue and he chuckled as he moved his hand downwards while the other gripped onto your ass, pulling you closer. Your body was on fire as his fingers instantly found your clit, slowly moving them in circled motions and then went down in between your folds. He pulled away from you, finally letting you moan out into the room.

“So wet for me. Did sucking my dick turn you on this much?” You could only nod at him and then your eyes widened when he landed a slap against your clit, causing you to whimper. “Answer me.”

“Y-Yes–” You could only gasp as you felt two fingers plunging inside of you in one motion, and your hands shot up in order to hold onto his shoulders as you moaned out a cry at the sudden stretch.

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” You nodded at his words as he pumped his fingers in and out of you and you moved your hips against them, trying to follow his rhythm. He was guiding you with the hand that was on your ass, pushing you further into him at each thrust.

“S-Steve, baby– Please–” You begged. You needed him inside of you, right this second. His fingers are not doing justice to what he could do to you. He growled, biting back a come back, but he was already frustrated himself, and he wanted to cum. He desperately needed to cum.

He pulled his fingers out of you, making you sigh from disappointment only to be manhandled into turning around, and then he pushed your upper back onto the table, bending you completely with your ass in the air. He grabbed onto the tie he left on the desk before.

“Arms behind.” You were breathing a little bit heavy as you complied to his wishes, putting your arms behind your back. He tied your forearms together, and you knew that your shoulders were going to be sore tomorrow, but it was going to be so worth it. “What do you need?”

“Hngh–” You wiggled your ass towards him, but the only thing that earned you was a loud smack onto one of your cheeks, making you whine.

“You acted like a fucking brat to get it. Have the decency to tell me what it is and I will give it to you.”

“I– I need your cock Stevie, please– Please, I need it…” And he didn’t need any more indulgence. He grabbed onto both your plump cheeks that were wiggling at him and he spread them open. He smirked at your puckered hole, and it was a shame he didn’t prep you for that tonight. Maybe tomorrow.

He lined his cock up towards your wet pussy, sliding against your clit a few times, making you moan in need, and then with no warning, he pushed inside of you, and your eyes widened when he didn’t take his time to let you adjust. He just kept going, knocking the air out of your mouth as the side of your head rested against the desk.

“So fucking tight…” He groaned out. “Even after all these years you’re still so tight for me baby…”

“Steve–” Your words were cut short when in one sharp thrust he pushed forward, completely seething himself inside of you, and your mouth fell into a wide ‘o’ shape as your eyebrows frowned at the friction of it all. It was too much, but it felt so good. It always feels so good.

He got hold of your tied forearms, and just like a cowboy would ride his horse and your arms were his reins. He straightened up, his other free hand dangling on his side, looking down at you, with his glasses still on. The reflection of your ass was the one that was over the crystals, and he smirked as he pulled his hips back, and then pushed forward again, and pulled on your arms to bring you to him.

You let out a loud moan and cry of his name, feeling him hit onto your spongy part that resided inside of you, but then went deeper than that. Your husband has always been on the bigger side, and feeling him splitting you like this only added fuel to the fire that was inside of you.

He started a brutal pace, skin slapping constantly as his balls hit against your clit, his hips against your ass that jiggled at each movement. He was trying to hold in the groans in his throat as he slapped one of your ass cheeks with his free hand while the other kept pulling you to him.

“Baby, did you come here for another reason?” You heard him ask, but your mind was still gone as he kept pistoning his hips against you, earning another loud smack on your ass that will probably leave a bruise, making you cry and snapping you back into reality. “Is it because it’s the perfect time? It is, isn't it?”

“Y-Yes! God–” You had come with two missions today, and one of them was being fulfilled, the other will soon happen.

“You came for me to fill you up? Have you all full of my cum so it takes?” He moaned as he felt your walls clench around him at his words. You nodded against the desk as tears rolled down and hit the wood under your face. You were going to cum without him touching you at all, just from his dick hitting your g-spot repeatedly.

“Yes, yes, please, Steve– Make me pregnant, fill me up–” He groaned behind you as his thrusts became harder, the slapping of skin even louder than before and you could hear grunts coming out of his throat as you whimpered his name many times, your walls clenching each second that passed.

“I can’t fucking wait to see your belly all round with my baby, fuck– sweetheart I can’t fucking wait…” That was enough for you to cum around him, letting out a loud yell of his name, legs trembling as his pace stopped for a second because you were clenching too hard all around him. “Fuck– Sweetheart–”

He winced at the friction of your cunt around him, and when he felt you start to relax, just slightly, he took a deep breath in and started his pace again, not letting you come down from your orgasm, wanting to drive you straight to another one thanks to overstimulation. 

“St–Steve, baby, stop–” But it wasn’t a true plea. You knew it wasn’t something you actually wanted, and he knew it too, so that’s why he didn’t stop at all. He smacked your ass once and he felt himself twitch inside of you, making him groan loudly.

“I’m gonna fill you up– You’re going to be so full.” He groaned when his glasses started to fog thanks to his jagged breaths, and he took them off to throw them onto the desk, beads of sweat coming down his forehead. You were choking on your moans as you tried to move your strained arms again, when you felt your walls start clenching, and you felt like you were dying from how hard your orgasm was going to be.

“S-Steve– Steve!” You couldn’t warn him fast enough that you were cumming onto his cock again, right after the last one you had because he didn’t let you rest from it. This time, your g-spot was so overstimulated that it made your juices gush out on him, drenching your legs and his. 

“F-Fuck, shit!” He was too overwhelmed with the view that he pushed you onto his cock as he thrusted deep inside of you, and he let out a loud moan as the ropes of his white spent filled your walls. You whimpered through a moan as you felt the warmth invade your insides.

You two were left panting in the room, trying to get your breathing back to normal. He was the first to regain his composure again as he untied the tie around your arms, and thanks to feeling the relief from being able to move them again, you snapped back into reality. You took a sharp intake of breath as you blinked and pressed your hands against the desk in order to pull yourself up. 

Your legs were shaking and you didn’t have time to recover yourself that he was turning you around to sit you on the desk. 

“What–?” You managed to breathe out for a second before you felt his fingers gather your juices and his cum that was already dripping out of your cunt, and plunging them inside like a plug. You let out a whimper at the sensation and he leaned forward to press a kiss on one of your stained cheeks.

“I know baby… I know…” He didn’t move his fingers, he just kept them there. “I’ll prepare dinner tonight, you just lay down on the couch, okay?” 

Your lovely husband was back, the rough demeanor already gone and you smiled as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close. Steve and you had been trying for the past few months, and today was another month you were going to try and you were ovulating. 

“God, I hope it takes…” You sighed out dreamily and he nodded at that, wanting nothing more for you two to finally become parents. He pressed a soft kiss against your forehead and then sent a smile your way.

“I hope so too. Also, way to rile me up.” You giggled at him as he wiped your cheeks lovingly with his free hand. 

“Maybe we just needed to do it roughly…” You wiggled your eyebrows at him and he tsked at you with his tongue, lightly slapping the side of your thigh, making you chuckle. 

“There’s no way that the way we have sex influences it.”

To Steve’s surprise, it does, because a month later your pregnancy test came out positive.

God bless working from home. 

A/N: I never wrote a just steve fic before, so here it is, welcome to my dirty thoughts

[itsonlydana]

I saw you opened requests and thought if you were inspired could you do a little sequel to "I Didn't Know That I Was Starving Till I Tasted You". I absolutely adore that story it is SO good!

Midnight Meetings in our Kitchen | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader👑

The night before the reopening of his restaurant, Thranduil is feeling antsy - you try your best to coax him back into bed.

warnings/tags: none

word count: 2,7k

an: This has taken me months to write and I apologize for the delay! My mind was just as frazzled as Thranduil's.

requests: please check pinned post

+ masterlist + rules +🌿 reposts and comments are much appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

You woke up alone and to the faint metallic sound of pots clanking in the kitchen. The hand you blindly reach over to the other side of the bed comes in contact with a cold mattress and rumbled sheets, no residue warmth of the person that held you until you fell asleep nor any sign that he actually slept and not gotten back up immediately as soon as you had closed your eyes to his even breathing.

This is not the first time Thranduil snuck out of bed – in the weeks you now shared one it has become all the clearer how often he actually strayed through the apartment while you were deep in a slumber – but it is the first time he did it after he promised to stay. 

It would be easy to let the anger and frustration fester, let it grow either in a thoughtless fight or in weeks of unspoken feelings, and if this was anyone else you would holster these moments like munition. Keeping them close to your heart like ivy holding on to cracked walls. 

Thranduil however, is not anyone else. 

The blanket is pushed aside, your feet step into the slippers by the bedside and in passing of the desk by the door, you grab a cardigan to throw over your shorts and the top you slept in. The moment you open the bedroom door, the sounds from the kitchen grow louder. You quietly creep around the corner, passing by the room where you hardly ever sleep, and find your boyfriend in a familiar stance – leaning over the stove, a spoon in his hand and one in the mess of long hair bundled up in the nape of his neck, barely holding it together; your boyfriend as well as the spoon.

He doesn’t seem to realize you are there, your shoes did a good job silencing the steps, so it is no wonder Thranduil flinches as you wrap your arms around his stomach from behind and press your face against his back. He catches on quickly, snaps out of the murmuring of ingredients and a “Oh,” escapes him in a sigh. “I’ve woken you up, haven’t I?”

“No,” you mumble into the loose shirt. Thranduil is comfortably warm, not by nature – his hands are a blessing in the summer and he made it a sport to tickle you awake with his icey tips as soon as you spent the nights under mountains of blankets – but by the heated kitchen and the many pots boiling in front of him. Lips against the soft fabric, you continue: “But you said you wouldn’t do this. Not tonight, Thran.”

You feel his spine curve as Thranduil sacks into himself slightly, as he stops holding himself up on the counter and instead hugs your arms closer to his chest. His whole body rumbles at another sigh. “I know,” he is tired, his voice drips sleep more than he realizes, “I know, Darling. I will come to bed soon, let me just finish this recipe.”

You lurk past his right side into what you think is a pot of soup? 

“Do you plan on serving it later?” you ask and let your fingers trail over the bunched-up shirt, over the soft hairs on his lean stomach. 

“I’m not sure. It lacks something and I can’t figure out what exactly. Spices I used plenty, the broth is perfection and the vegetables have been in harmony every other time I thought of them.” – Thranduil is the only person in the world who you know can taste a dish without even cooking it, all that happens in his brain is a mysterium – “I need to find.. whatever it is that’s missing before I could serve it.”

“So, you will cook dozens of portions with a tiny thing changed?”

It is meant to be a joke though Thranduil nods. 

He could be unreadable and stubborn, especially these last few weeks. His restaurant ‘The Green Leaf’, is known as the best spot for fine-dining vegan food, praised high and above by the critics for excellent taste, extravagant and beyond thinking of known dishes taken to another level in ways you couldn’t even begin to fathom. Thranduil is precise, cutting dishes that fail his standards and not adding new ones till he reaches perfection only known to him. 

The turn to autumn brought not only harsher winds but it took one of Thranduil’s suppliers to sell out to ‘Oakenshields’, another star restaurant across the street and a thorn in Thranduil’s eyes ever since the press fueled heavy competition between two restaurants that are no were near the same category. They have close to nothing in common, except for two petty as fuck owners with their heads stuck that far up their arses, that they couldn’t see further than their rage. 

Thranduil, mature as he is, reacted to the news of his supplier changing sides – literally and metaphorically – as any normal person would, and decided on a night similar to this one, that he would change every meal that he had previously cooked with the ingredients of ‘the traitor’. Out with entrés made with apples, gone are the burgers simply because the cucumbers are no longer accessible. You realized quickly that going with the flow meant outings to farmer's markets testing fruits and vegetables, negotiating deals with you hanging on his arm, and new recipes he cooks for you to try. The work and effort of many nights waking up to find him in the kitchen all lead to tomorrow, the first day after the restaurant’s summer-closing and the presentation of a completely new constructed menu. 

To say Thranduil is spun tight is an understatement.

“Thranduil –” you sigh, your hot breath slightly wetting his shirt and your lips move against his spine. “This is nonsense and I don’t say this to be mean. You’ve been up the whole day, going through recipes you’ve been sure about and that you know by heart. Trying this won’t do no good; it will only exhaust you.” The tips of your fingers trail through the hair, higher up to lay a flat palm against the firm skin, feeling his intake of breath. You let your touch be gentle if he misunderstands your words. 

Communication between you had never been the problem – well, except for the obvious misunderstanding of the feelings you both had harbored for each other in complete ignorance that the other packaged them up in love languages such as cooking a meal or throwing out flowers of your dates – and you two had gotten even better at speaking your mind to avoid confrontations that could have been cleared up by a simple discussion at dinner or before going to bed. You never went to bed mad at each other, that is the rule you agreed on. You would talk it out and then make up. You have learned that Thranduil’s cold demeanor came on the second he felt vulnerable and alone which is exactly why you lean into the subject with your hands holding on to him.

“I get that this is important for you,” you continue and your knees nudge the muscles of his calves, “but you need sleep. Your greatest weapon is your brain, so, let it rest. I’m sure this will work out without a new dish.”

For a while, there is the boiling of water, the steam of carrots and celeriac drifting through the air. Thranduil’s hands continue to hold onto you, drawing figures onto your wrists to signal you that he did hear you and is thinking of an answer, not ignoring you. Then, he lets go with one hand. The stove clicks off, and the gas flame disappears, dipping the kitchen into more darkness now that the blue flickering light is gone. 

Other than that movement, Thranduil stands still. 

You opt for another lighthearted joke to break the tension that is obvious in his shoulders, the wings of them have the shirt stretched tighter at his hunch. You take the spoon out of his hands and fish in the soup, yes definitely soup, carefully balancing it around his stiff body and closing your lips around it.

“Mhmm, what excellent boiled potatoes,” you hum.

Thranduil's expression shifts ever so slightly, as if your words have finally pierced through the mental blockade, where he’s no doubt been sifting through countless possible events. An amused snort escapes him, his spine curving closer against you as he chuckles softly. “Did you have another Pride and Prejudice marathon this week?”

“What?” Your voice jumps an octave, betraying you instantly. “No! Of course not! Me? Nev–er. I don't even know that movie.” The words tumble out in a frantic cascade, and in the middle of your denial, Thranduil abruptly turns to face you, his sudden movement drawing a helpless grin from your lips.

One eyebrow arches in quiet amusement as he begins to crowd you against the kitchen island and leaves you to stare up at him. “If you didn’t watch it – and I certainly didn’t – how do you explain the ‘continue watching’ notification I saw at the restaurant?”

“Wow, uhm,” you fumble for an excuse, fingers toying with the strings of his silken pajama pants. “Maybe your brother decided to give my recommendations a shot?”

Thranduil lets out a scoff, his disbelief evident. “Las? When has he ever taken our advice on anything?”

True, his brother is going down the full teenager-who-listens-to-no-one-route like he’s doing a marathon but you are just as determined. Coyly you flutter your lashes up at Thranduil, pulling at the strings and twirling them around a finger. “Maybe that’s a sign of the universe, then. That you should stop banging pots and start bang– showing attention to your girlfriend.” 

Thranduil laughs so low in his throat, that you feel it swooshing straight into your stomach, the vibrato of his voice and the rasp of the few hours of sleep undoing every thought of getting him back to bed because this, Thranduil in just a loose shirt standing in the silver light of the moon in the middle of the kitchen and staring down at you might be the most attractive thing you have ever witnessed. 

His hands wander from your waist up to your shoulders, sliding up further to cup your neck in his large palms and gently tilt your chin up further. Your breath comes to a full stop, instead, your heart takes on the job of pulsing twice as fast at the gentle touch of his thumb moving over the underline of your jaw. The day you realized he cradles you just as gently as his favorite knives was surely one to process but now you lean into the lingering taps of his fingertips, the pad of his thumb pressing slightly into the plushness of your lower lip. 

Thranduil slots one leg between yours, casually and with an ease that you wouldn’t believed him to be able to when you first met him. “Have I recently told you how thankful I am that you’re you?” he asks and you shake your head slightly. His lips curve downward, as do his eyebrows. “I may have gotten lost in my work again, haven’t I?” 

You nod, never one to pour a lie into this intimacy. “But that’s fine. I know this is important to you. The restaurant opening and all can’t be easy.”

“That’s no reason to push away the one person that makes this journey bearable. You shouldn’t have to put up with my nightly disappearance out of bed simply because the restaurant is a large focus on my mind right now.” 

“It has become quite the habit of yours,” you agree quietly and slip one hand under his shirt again. 

There’s nothing sexual about the way you hold onto his waist, tracing the bones and muscles, all breathing softly and singing under your touch. Being this close to him grounds you the same way he needs physical touch as a reminder that he is still important in arguments and fights. That no matter how far apart your opinions are at that moment, your bond is still there. 

“I am truly sorry for this habit. I will work on it and I think once we have gotten through the worst of the press and critics I can rest easier but it’s nothing I can one hundred percent promise. The last time we closed for a month I slept barely after reopening.”

You tilt your head. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“No, everything you do makes me a better person already,” Thranduil says and leans down to finally catch your lips in a soft kiss into which you melt like butter on a hot pan. Every nerve ending is sizzling and burning, sighing as he holds your face close and kisses the breath out of you. “Or would you do me the favor and never watch your movie again?”

You laugh and bite down on his lip, “Never. Try something more realistic.”

He agrees with a huff of laughter, “Of course not,”  and pulls you back into another kiss. 

“Can we go back to bed?” you mumble against his lips. As much as you enjoy the loving kisses, the slow and languid draw of his tongue, the playful nip of his teeth in the lull of the night, his full body cornering you against the counter – oh, there’s this low sound of his throat again – but unlike Thranduil, you had a few hours of sleep already and you can feel the urge to hop back under the covers in the cold around your bare ankles.  

Thranduil’s head swirls around, seemingly taking in the state of the kitchen without the haze of a restless man dreaming of the perfect dish clouding his judgment and he raises a hand to tap against his lips, loudly exhaling. “Shit. I can’t leave this lying around and while it’s no good for the restaurant, I can’t just throw it out.”

You shrug your shoulders, sneaking past him to open the drawer meticulously sorted with plastic boxes. There are certainly enough of them to store the soups and their different varieties. Once Thranduil starts working on a new recipe, his tendency to fill the kitchen and run tests leaves its traces in the way you now look out for good lunchbox offers and Tupperware parties, always being mindful of having enough of them to stack up the freezer. Thranduil may be opposed to frozen food – and not only storebought, he would not eat something he didn’t cook fresh even if the whole idea of freezing food he cooked meant that it was still good and full of vitamins – but you don’t mind popping them into the microwave on a long day at work and relishing the soul food of your boyfriend weeks after he abandoned the thought of that particular version.

“We could pack them up and bring them around to the shelter tomorrow. Ah, wait, no. You have to be at the restaurant early for the deliveries. I can drop them off then, get home to change and still be there on time for the opening, oh! Thran–,” you are interrupted by the warm weight of Thranduil hugging you close from behind, surprising you the same way you had earlier, only that the height difference allows him to mouth a kiss into your neck. 

“I love you,” Thranduil says, digging his fingers into the wool of your cardigan. “All I’m doing is keeping you up at night and you’re still here, thinking about bringing the food to the shelter and my schedule. You’re brilliant, my love.”

The compliment goes through your heart like molten honey, sticking in all the slowly healing cracks that Thranduil mends each day he is there for you. The change from being roommates to best friends brings the risk of disrupting the carefully built balance yet Thranduil and you made it work and in times like this, standing in the darkness of your shared kitchen in the night before the re-opening of what Thranduil loves third-most in the world, every effort is worth the risk.

You smile, resting your head against his chest and looking up at him. His grey eyes are already on you, framed by long lashes and the strands of hair shining silver. “Love you too, most ardently,” you stand up on your tiptoes for a quick kiss upside down. “Soups can wait, let’s go to bed.”

[rebelliousstories]

Past the Point of No Return

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 1,238

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: A difficult mission is causing tensions to rise amongst the crew; even those who did not go on it.

Consider Donating: Here

It has been three days since they had heard from the team. Cyclops, Jean, Gambit and Logan had not checked in with the school in three long days. And it was starting to drive her mad. She had no idea where they were, what was happening to them, or even if they were alive. The Professor was trying his hardest to find them telepathically, but there was something sort of resistance impeding his abilities.

“Please tell me you’re calling me in here for some good news, Professor.” She exhaled in frustration as she walked into the war room.

“I have finally broken whatever the mental barrier was that was preventing me from gaining access to their minds. It appears that Mr. Sinister has been holding them for the last three days. There have been some… experimentations done. In the effort of raising a superior mutant race I have no doubt.” Charles explained, rubbing his temples to expunge the strain he felt.

“Well are they alright? They’re alive, right?” While her voice was sharp, there was definitely a tremble there that was not there before.

“Yes, they’re alright. But we mustn’t be hasty in our retrieval of them or even a retaliation against Sinister.” But she was not hearing any of it. She was already half way to the secondary, single plane before Charles caught up with her again.

“Listen to me. Stop, please!” He pleaded as she finishing zipping up her suit.

“What now, Charles? We can’t just leave them to face a fate worse than death.”

“I believe that they will be home before either of us knows it. Come back to the school. Get some sleep. You haven’t gotten much over the past week. Let’s get you fed and to bed, my dear.” With a gentle hand, he managed to pull her just a little bit towards the school. A wave of exhaustion washed over her, almost knocking her knees out from underneath her. Bracing against Charles’ chair, she conceded and followed the man back to the school that they called home.

He watched over her as she slept later on that evening. Part of it was to ensure that she was not going to sneak off in the middle of the night, but the other part was to ensure that she actually slept. Over the past week that the team had been gone, she had only gotten maybe a couple hours a night which was not good enough when she was trying to keep an ear out on the radio in case the team came under trouble. Charles entered the very top layer of her mind, prompting it to bring forth pleasant memories to keep her satiated during her rest, and then leaving immediately afterwards.

Xavier’s communicator suddenly went off with the welcomed sound of Cyclops’ voice. Wheeling out of her room, he happily received the news that they had all escaped Sinister’s island and diabolical plans before it could go any further. They would be arriving within the next couple of hours, and were going to require medical attention just to be safe. Bidding the young man goodbye and safe travels, Charles called Hank in order to have someone to look over his beloved X-Men.

By the time she had awoken, her clock stated that it was five o’clock in the morning; the following day. She hastily dressed and brushed her teeth in order to make her way into the war room, when something caught her eye. Remy’s jacket was not there when she went to bed last night. And this one had a new cut on the shoulder that she would inevitably mend later. Could it be possible that they were home?

Weaving through the maze of the different hallways and corridors of the mansion turned school, she tried to focus on finding the voices that she had been dying to hear again. She checked the library, the study, common rooms, kitchen, even the Professor’s office; they were nowhere to be found apparently. It was not until she had made her way down to the level below that faint vibrations became soft whispers. Following those sounds, she found that she was being pulled towards the lab that doubled as a medical room when needed.

As she made her way to the threshold, there they were. A much needed, welcomed sight to her eyes and mind. Remy was getting his shoulder bandaged up. Jean held Scott’s hand as they lay their heads against one another in silent relief no doubt. Logan, being his usual self, was leaning against the wall with his eyes shut. He looked almost to be asleep, that is until her footsteps reached his ears as she stepped inside.

“Remy. You’re home!” Her exclamation caught everyone’s attention. Beast was still busy working on his shoulder, but that did little to deter the Cajun or his lover.

“Chere, is alrigh’. Da Gambit is here.” He held his uninjured arm out in order to receive her. As carefully as she could, without disrupting her friend’s work to repair him, she wrapped her arms around his body. Gambit placed a kiss to her head as soon as she nuzzled herself into his chest.

“I was so scared, Remy. I was so worried you weren’t coming home. Thinking about you guys in there, being experimented on. Just made me feel so horrible knowing that I couldn’t get you out.” Her voice darkened just a touch as she continued thinking about what had occurred.

“Now, now, chere. Ain’t no need to be thinkin’ ‘bout such things now. We alrigh’. We make it back home.” Remy tried to reassure her but he felt her still tense underneath his hands.

“But it’s not right. We’re just letting Sinister get away, after everything he’s done to you. Even after all he’s done specifically to Jean and Scott,” she shot up and out of her spot. “So why can’t we go hunt him down now? You guys are safe. He shouldn’t be. I’m tired of waiting around for him to do something. We’re waiting for an attack instead of going and doing the attacking ourselves.”

Consumed by her own thoughts, she shot out of the medical lab and started making her way to the Blackbird. She heard the shouts of her friends from behind her but paid them no mind. After today, she would make sure that Mr. Sinister could not harm them anymore. However, blindsided by her rage, she failed to notice that her lover had run after her. Grabbing her by the hand, he spun her around to face him.

“Chere, chere, look at Gambit, yeah? C’mon, let’s see dem pretty eyes. Der ya go,” he patiently waited for his girlfriend to lock eye with himself.

“Der she is. My beautiful lady. We live t’ fight another day, yeah? We gonna get Sinister one of des days, but for now, we jus’ happy we home. You ain’t gonna be able to take him out by ya self, and we’d sure miss ya if ya gone.”

Tears streamed down her face as she realized her boyfriend’s words. Nodding, she buried her head back into his bandage clad chest.

“Let’s go lay down now, chere. I jus’ want a night wit you in my arms again. Please?” She nodded again and let him lead her away, back to their room. Revenge could wait. They had another day to spend together. It has been three days since they had heard from the team. Cyclops, Jean, Gambit and Logan had not checked in with the school in three long days. And it was starting to drive her mad. She had no idea where they were, what was happening to them, or even if they were alive. The Professor was trying his hardest to find them telepathically, but there was something sort of resistance impeding his abilities.

“Please tell me you’re calling me in here for some good news, Professor.” She exhaled in frustration as she walked into the war room.

“I have finally broken whatever the mental barrier was that was preventing me from gaining access to their minds. It appears that Mr. Sinister has been holding them for the last three days. There have been some… experimentations done. In the effort of raising a superior mutant race I have no doubt.” Charles explained, rubbing his temples to expunge the strain he felt.

“Well are they alright? They’re alive, right?” While her voice was sharp, there was definitely a tremble there that was not there before.

“Yes, they’re alright. But we mustn’t be hasty in our retrieval of them or even a retaliation against Sinister.” But she was not hearing any of it. She was already half way to the secondary, single plane before Charles caught up with her again.

“Listen to me. Stop, please!” He pleaded as she finishing zipping up her suit.

“What now, Charles? We can’t just leave them to face a fate worse than death.”

“I believe that they will be home before either of us knows it. Come back to the school. Get some sleep. You haven’t gotten much over the past week. Let’s get you fed and to bed, my dear.” With a gentle hand, he managed to pull her just a little bit towards the school. A wave of exhaustion washed over her, almost knocking her knees out from underneath her. Bracing against Charles’ chair, she conceded and followed the man back to the school that they called home.

He watched over her as she slept later on that evening. Part of it was to ensure that she was not going to sneak off in the middle of the night, but the other part was to ensure that she actually slept. Over the past week that the team had been gone, she had only gotten maybe a couple hours a night which was not good enough when she was trying to keep an ear out on the radio in case the team came under trouble. Charles entered the very top layer of her mind, prompting it to bring forth pleasant memories to keep her satiated during her rest, and then leaving immediately afterwards.

Xavier’s communicator suddenly went off with the welcomed sound of Cyclops’ voice. Wheeling out of her room, he happily received the news that they had all escaped Sinister’s island and diabolical plans before it could go any further. They would be arriving within the next couple of hours, and were going to require medical attention just to be safe. Bidding the young man goodbye and safe travels, Charles called Hank in order to have someone to look over his beloved X-Men.

By the time she had awoken, her clock stated that it was five o’clock in the morning; the following day. She hastily dressed and brushed her teeth in order to make her way into the war room, when something caught her eye. Remy’s jacket was not there when she went to bed last night. And this one had a new cut on the shoulder that she would inevitably mend later. Could it be possible that they were home?

Weaving through the maze of the different hallways and corridors of the mansion turned school, she tried to focus on finding the voices that she had been dying to hear again. She checked the library, the study, common rooms, kitchen, even the Professor’s office; they were nowhere to be found apparently. It was not until she had made her way down to the level below that faint vibrations became soft whispers. Following those sounds, she found that she was being pulled towards the lab that doubled as a medical room when needed.

As she made her way to the threshold, there they were. A much needed, welcomed sight to her eyes and mind. Remy was getting his shoulder bandaged up. Jean held Scott’s hand as they lay their heads against one another in silent relief no doubt. Logan, being his usual self, was leaning against the wall with his eyes shut. He looked almost to be asleep, that is until her footsteps reached his ears as she stepped inside.

“Remy. You’re home!” Her exclamation caught everyone’s attention. Beast was still busy working on his shoulder, but that did little to deter the Cajun or his lover.

“Chere, is alrigh’. Da Gambit is here.” He held his uninjured arm out in order to receive her. As carefully as she could, without disrupting her friend’s work to repair him, she wrapped her arms around his body. Gambit placed a kiss to her head as soon as she nuzzled herself into his chest.

“I was so scared, Remy. I was so worried you weren’t coming home. Thinking about you guys in there, being experimented on. Just made me feel so horrible knowing that I couldn’t get you out.” Her voice darkened just a touch as she continued thinking about what had occurred.

“Now, now, chere. Ain’t no need to be thinkin’ ‘bout such things now. We alrigh’. We make it back home.” Remy tried to reassure her but he felt her still tense underneath his hands.

“But it’s not right. We’re just letting Sinister get away, after everything he’s done to you. Even after all he’s done specifically to Jean and Scott,” she shot up and out of her spot. “So why can’t we go hunt him down now? You guys are safe. He shouldn’t be. I’m tired of waiting around for him to do something. We’re waiting for an attack instead of going and doing the attacking ourselves.”

Consumed by her own thoughts, she shot out of the medical lab and started making her way to the Blackbird. She heard the shouts of her friends from behind her but paid them no mind. After today, she would make sure that Mr. Sinister could not harm them anymore. However, blindsided by her rage, she failed to notice that her lover had run after her. Grabbing her by the hand, he spun her around to face him.

“Chere, chere, look at Gambit, yeah? C’mon, let’s see dem pretty eyes. Der ya go,” he patiently waited for his girlfriend to lock eye with himself.

“Der she is. My beautiful lady. We live t’ fight another day, yeah? We gonna get Sinister one of des days, but for now, we jus’ happy we home. You ain’t gonna be able to take him out by ya self, and we’d sure miss ya if ya gone.”

Tears streamed down her face as she realized her boyfriend’s words. Nodding, she buried her head back into his bandage clad chest.

“Let’s go lay down now, chere. I jus’ want a night wit you in my arms again. Please?” She nodded again and let him lead her away, back to their room. Revenge could wait. They had another day to spend together.

[dreamwritersworld]

Space..(mike schmidt x reader)

Your relationship with mike was beautiful before all your responsibilities came crashing down.

late night shifts…

taking care of abby…

arguments…

Now there was tension and you hadn’t spoken to each other in what felt like weeks..

Your days were filled of waking up early beside Mike who was still asleep from the late nights shifts, bags under both of your eyes.

It hurt seeing him so different then before, you guys had fallen in love young and stayed together since then. Once Mike was given the responsibility of Abby everything changed, of course you loved her but it was true.

The reality was you were now given a child and the dynamic of your relationship shifted. You both took your role and for the first three weeks it was stressful yet remained peaceful, Abby wasn’t as open to Mike as she was to you…not until later on.

Two weeks ago is when it started, Mike was getting lazy. It was as if he had given up on taking care of the family..

This was the fifth time in a row that Mike had walked past me, after coming home from work. He hadn’t bothered to say hello, like he usually did before. We haven’t spoken in forever because now he sleeps and goes.

I had woken up earlier than usual to get Abby ready for her picture day. Breakfast was prepped for us, we ate and picked out the clothes she’d wear. I spent the morning perfecting her curls and jewelry, sending her off and leaving her at the parking lot of the school..

“You look so beautiful Abby, I can’t wait to see your pictures!!”

“Thank you Y/n, will you pick me up today or are you working another shift?”

I couldn’t help but sigh remembering that Mike forgot her the other three times, leaving her waiting for me to pick her up while he slept.

“I can’t today princess I’ll be working but I can assure you that your brother won’t forget you!”

Abby smiled and waved goodbye giving me one last hug before she left the car

I made sure to send a text to mike reminding her to not forget her and he replied ok, my worries were taken care of and I had reliefs…

A couple hours later while at work my phone was going off like crazy, and when I picked it up I saw it was calls from the school and I answered immediately, walking away to go someplace quiet..

“Hello? I’m Abby’s caretaker is anything wrong? Did her brother forget her?”

“Ahh yes he did. We were just a little worried as it has been about 20 minutes since school ended, will you be picking her up?”

“Yes! I will I’m leaving work right now! Thank you for calling I’m so sorry for the wait!”

“We understand, we’ll see you soon.”

The call ended and although I remained calm on the call I was infuriated. There I was once again having to tell the boss for the fourth time in the row that my boyfriend had an emergency and i had to pick up his little sister from school…of course he was mad urging me to fix the issue or else we’d have a problem.

I ran to my car soaking wet from the rain, rushing across the roads and through the traffic to get Abby. It was embarrassing, having to pick her up once again seeming like the most imperfect caretaker. This wasn’t what abby needed or deserved and this wouldn’t look good in family court for her either.

The school released abby to me and I stood there for awhile apologizing profusely to the teacher who had to wait for her. Once I made my goodbyes we ran to the car and I realized that Abby was holding tears in her eyes, her curls had gotten messy and her dress wet.

“Oh abby i am so sorry-“

“No! It’s fine! Really it’s fine! It’s not your fault.”

Her voice had raised and cracked when she spoke.

“…no it’s not fine. I’ll fix this Abby I promise, once we get home and get you cleaned up.”

We walked into a silent home I got a bath ready and that I left clothes for abby to change into, walking away from the bathroom in a calmed hurry.

“Mike? Mike.”

He was woken up in a slum his bags lighter from the rest he had.

“What?”

I took a sigh at the attitude he sent my way and I stood in front of the bed, trying to remain patient without yelling, realizing it was a hard time for the both of us…but I just couldn’t handle the situation.

“We’ve gone over this before. I know your working late and your exhausted but I can’t keep leaving work to pick up Abby. I need you Mike, I need you to take care of her.”

“Please don’t give me that bullshit Y/n. I take care of her, she has roof over her head and so do you. I don’t need that, dinner was ready for you by the time you guys came back home. I missed a couple of days so what?”

“Excuse me? Mike are you serious? Do you know how that will hold up in court? Mike! She came into the car soaking wet, exhausted and frustrated that she had to wait for someone to pick her up again. I help you Mike so don’t act like I’m living off you-“

“You act as if Abby’s a chore Y/n, is that helping? Cause you always seem to sound like your complaining-“

The tears of stress that I had held in for so long had fallen, the shock of his words felt like too much to handle

“How dare you?! Don’t you ever say that! I love her Mike. I’m still here. I’m present and I care for her. Do you even realize how lucky you are to have her Mike? Because your starting to treat her like she’s not even in the room and your doing the same to me. It’s not fair! Not to her, and not to me either!”

“I get that but I’m stuck Y/n, all you do is take her from here to there and go to work and come back home to a cooked meal.”

“Why don’t you care? Your just comparing our routines, Mike have you even factored the fact that I clean for you, and that on the days where it’s too hard for you to get up I’ll handle the cooking whenever? You act as though I don’t do my part in the rent. I take care of abby she’s a kid Mike. She doesn’t need you to just give her the bare necessities, she needs love.”

He was holding my heart and squeezing it apart and it had to be fine, because it was him. Mike was the man I had fallen in love with, I gave him my everything. Nausea hit me and I couldn’t stand being in the room with him, I walked away and he hadn’t even followed just mumbling that he was tired.

I rushed away in a hurry, tears falling. I was going to get into my car but I had thrown up when I went to open my door. I have been thrown up a lot lately..my body was always sore, and I’ve been getting my energy drained easily..was I pregnant?

My car was swerving to the nearest pharmacy, my trip led to taking a test in the bathroom, and sobbing holding the positive test in my arms. I’ve never felt so stuck in my life, my relationship was in shambles, I had Abby as my child and another would be an addition to the fire..

I cried my entire way home, shaking and afraid to tell the news…my hands rubbed off the painful tears before I walked in, afraid Abby would be awake watching TV.

Mike walked in a rush breathing heavily,

“I-I thought you weren’t going to come back, Y/n I am so sorry…I’m sorry.”

I walked up to him pulling on his arm to come to our room. The tears flowed again…and I was standing before him, door closed as he watched me with a confused face. I wasn’t one to cry unless I was really hurt by something..

“..im pregnant.” I had spoken the news in a hushed voice emotional and afraid of his reaction

“w-what?”

“i’m pregnant..”

“..no..no..” he sat down with his head between his hands

“please don’t shut me out Mike…we need to talk.”

“Talk about what? What more is there to talk about?”

“We need to talk about us, about abby, what we’re going to do. keep your voice down you’ll wake Abby..”

“Ok well there’s nothing else to talk about your pregnant, we have another mouth to feed.”

“…that’s it?”

“Yea that’s it!”

“why are you yelling at me?”

“Im not yelling at you.”

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not..my god..alright whatever.”

“You don’t understand how hard this is, this is my body.”

“No I do get it.”

“No you don’t get it. You haven’t been there for us Mike, for our family. You go to work and you barley speak to us.-“

“Our family? This wasn’t a family until two seconds ago Y/n we haven’t spoken in weeks-“

“…Because you haven’t tried! And I’m drowning trying to keep our relationship going!”

“Yea and i get that but we’re struggling to hold everything together and we just got abby as our kid we shouldn’t be having one on the way right now.”

I took a step back turning around to change out of my clothes frustrated with his attitude to the situation

“Ok well, it happened. We have to figure it out.”

“Im not gonna be able to do this Y/n…Between you, abby, and this baby i can’t provide for us…We have to let Abby go.”

“What? You think she’s going to be happy with your aunt? You don’t care about anyone but your fucking self! That’s why I can’t talk to you!”

“I don’t care about no one but my fucking self right now?”

he approached me closer with anger and I pushed him away.

“Fuck you, move!”

I made my attempts to leave as he pulled me in getting in my face holding me close

“We can keep the baby Y/n, we just have to make sacrifices. I need to keep you safe and Abby needs to have a better home.”

My tears fell into his hands and sobs fell as I shook my head at his words.

“Fuck you! You think I’m gonna raise my baby with you? Look at you!”

“What do you mean look at me? I’m here for you-“

“No your not, stop saying that!”

I shoved him again as my heart continued to shatter

“Please Y/n just stay.”

“No…no Mike anything but that..you can’t give up on Abby..please.”

He held me close pulling down to the bed as I sobbed

“Ok..ok we’ll figure something out..I need you Y/n…I love you.”

he was pausing and crying in between as we slowly fell asleep once again..

When it was time to wake up I opened Abby’s door to see her quietly sitting down with tears in her eyes and a packed bag.

“What are you doing baby? What is this? Why are you crying?”

“A-are you going to send me away?”

“What? How could I? Oh no..no, Abby. I would never.”

I sat down beside her pulling her to lay down on my leg as I gently pulled her hair away from her face

“I heard what Mike said about me..”

“you heard..”

i looked up with an ashamed face, frustrated at Mike.

“He didn’t mean it, I promise you he didn’t mean it. Abby I love you, I can’t give you up especially to her..she doesn’t deserve you.”

“…he still said it..”

“i know but he didn’t mean it..I promise.”

i wiped her tears away and let her play, as I prepped breakfast and got ready to leave for work.

It had been a long shift and I was exhausted going back home.

“No Abby, you can’t come to work with me.”

“Please, I want to.”

“N-“

I almost made it past but Abby’s screeching stopped me.

“Y/n!!! Tell Mike to take me!”

“Oh Abby you know he can’t..please just come go to bed I’m exhausted.”

The room grew silent as Mike watchedhow I came in with my work bag and bagged eyes.

“Fine Abby we can go but you have to behave, and Y/n can get rest while we’re gone.”

“…Mike it’s fine, that’s not a good idea, I’ll be-“

“Y/n I got it, just get some rest babe.”

I gave him a kiss walking away calmly but as I waited in I couldn’t help but get a bad feeling…

*💕*

hope you enjoyed!! and i can assure you that Mike would not act like this irl!! I JUST NEED ANGST! :) please be aware that im just starting to come back into writing and trying to find my drive for it again, Thank you!!!

[atxxzist]

spring in our hearts | c.s (preview)

summary: the spring where you finally fall in love and experience everything that comes with it; the good and the bad

pairing: choi san x f!reader

genre: angst, slice of life, suggestive, romance, fluff?

release date: sometime around next week, idk

and he probably didn’t push too hard because it’s almost like he knew you’re gonna be there; waking up before it’s even 7 and sitting at the same table from before, watching guests go in and out of the room hoping to catch the boy that sent you the text last night.

his face lights up the same as you when he enters, waving in the air and heading your direction, you really shouldn’t feel so nervous but excited at the sight of him walking.

“hey!” he greets cheerfully, sliding into the seat across with a smile.

“good morning,” you return, hands curled in your lap and happy he can’t see them because you wonder what he’d think.

“how you’d sleep?” he ask the same time he combs over his morning hair, never in your life has someone looked so good doing so, you didn’t even think it was possible.

“good,” you manage to answer with composure. “and you?”

“alright.” he shrugs. “wooyoung was just mostly drunk and annoying from last night’s dinner.”

a small giggle also laced with empathy escapes from you. “well i’m sorry to hear. i hope today will be better.”

he nods. “hopefully.” then realizing you haven’t even gotten your food, talking in a concerned tone, “don’t tell me you were waiting for me.”

“i was,” you say. “don’t worry about it. i’m not that hungry. the dinner last night kept me filled plenty.”

“if you say so…” he lingers a bit before continuing, “should we go now?”

“sure.”

you also get close to the same thing you got last time, with the exception that they’ve switched out pancakes for waffles, getting a question from san after sitting down about your food choices.

“well, i really only eat korean foods,” you tell him. “i’m not too fond of anything else besides what’s on my plate right now.”

“ahh. so you’re a picky eater?”

“somewhat. that’s why yeosang hates going out to eat with me.”

san lets out a quiet snicker, something more mischievous bubbling in his eyes that you don’t read into.

“you talk about yeosang a lot… does yours and his relationship ever bothers your other friend?” he asks, the question stopping you from sipping your coffee.

the friendly and harmless tone still in the air but you can’t hide the fact the question flusters you a little.

“well, me and yeosang have known each other for a while… even before grace, so she understands that we don’t see each other like that at all.”

san quirks his lips and nods, taking your words for it.

“why?” you speak again. “do we give out that kind of vibe?” you ask worriedly, because you would never want to unintentionally (or intentionally) hurt grace in any ways. on your life you have never seen yeosang for more than the annoying middle schooler you couldn’t get rid of.

but as san shakes his head, you feel a sense of relief, watching as a light smirk creep up on his face.

“just wondering,” he says, so calmly but eerie at the same time, you can’t quite grasp the intention. but then something else comes over, and you forget all about deciphering san’s answer; not really wanting to but letting the intrusive thoughts win.

“and that girl you were with yesterday? you guys together?” you ask, no menance in your voice; just a natural curioisity because you wanna know… not for any reasons deeper.

“she’s a friend,” he answers fast and casual. “i know her from my previous school because we were under the same program and have similar interests and whatnot.”

“i see,” you mumble, a light smile anyone would’ve missed because you don’t wanna admit to anyone why the fact brings you a sense of comfort.

but it doesn’t cut it with grace.

“that’s what they always say!” she cries dramatically, after storming into your room when she was finally done sleeping past noon and the events of yesterday hit her.

but you don’t have any reasons to doubt san, even if you love your best friend and wanna take her words for it, you don’t think it’s fair to assume someone you barely know is trying to take your man that isn’t really your man.

“for all you know, they could be fucking behind doors.”

“grace!” you yell your friend’s name at such accusation, your ears turning red at even the thought of it.

“sorry,” she mutters, but barely meaning it, only shrugging off what needed to be said.

“i just don’t want you to be hurt in the end,” she says, voice a kind of sympathy you didn’t even know you need.

because yes, you think san is handsome. he is kind and unusually attentive to you for whatever reasons, and seeing someone else by his side made your stomach queasy all for the wrong reasons… but you don’t feel justified in feeling a certain way just because your friend says you should.

you’re not with him and you still don’t even know if you wanna be with him.

“trust me, grace,” you assure her, a confident smile settling on your lips that she only frowns to. “i’ll be fine.”

and as much as she wants to believe it, it’s hard not to doubt knowing the way you are.

how, though you’ve navigated through life barely getting romantically involved with boys, it wouldn’t be difficult for someone like san to get you wrapped around his fingers if he wants to.

the guy way too charming; how he just casually checks all criteria from looks to personality, the girl herself rooting for you and him initially, but quickly rethinking the choice after last night.

[thatgirlstrawberry]

Sick Surprise - The Honeymoon

In which Y/N and Spencer go on their honeymoon!

Warnings: Fluff, smut!!! Oral (f rec), fingering, unprotected sex, penetrative sex,

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Leaving Eloise for a week was harder than the newlyweds thought it would be. But now, they were at the airport, hand in hand and watching their daughter wave at them through the window of her grandma’s car.

“Do you think we could just catch up to the car?” Y/N asked, biting her lip. Spencer sighed and she rolled her eyes with a smile. “No. We can’t get all sad.” She said. “We have a week with no child. That means, sex, eating all the food we want, walking around naked, sex and oh! More sex.” She nodded proudly. Spencer looked down at her an quirked an eyebrow. “And… spend time with each other, I guess.”

He laughed and they walked into the airport with their luggage and hearts pounding with excitement and love for one another.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

When they reached their hotel room, Y/N literally left her bag in the hallway because she was too excited to carry anything with her. Spencer chuckled and walked in after her, taking her suitcase by the handle and dragging it in.

He didn’t even get a chance to look around before Y/N came out of nowhere and jumped on his back, squealing. He groaned with a laughed and fell forward onto the bed. “Wait, we haven’t even gotten to see the view from the balcony yet!” He laughed as he turned over, Y/N straddling his hips.

“You think the view out there is gonna look better than…” She pulled her shirt over her head and smiled down at him. “This?”

Spencer instantly became mesmerized. “You, my wife, are the most beautiful view in the world.”

She paused. “I’m your wife!” She squealed. She leaned down and placed a slow but passionate kiss on his lips. His hands found their way to her hips and he sighed into her lips.

Her hands gripped his shirt, wanting it off as fast as possible. They broke the kiss long enough for him to sit up and let her take his shirt off, never breaking eye contact. His hot skin against her cold felt exhilarating and she kissed him again. “I’m so glad you married me.” He whispered.

She smiled, her eyes saying the exact same thing he did. The rustling of the bedsheets and their breathing was the only thing in the room as they kissed. “I love you.” He whispered between kisses. “I love—“ She kissed him again. “You.”

She giggled and before she could kiss him again, her phone rang in her back pocket. “I’m ignoring it, don’t worry.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket as she kissed him and turned it off, throwing it somewhere on the bed.

He rolled her over so he was on top and held himself above her. “Good. That’s so good.” He nodded before dipping down to kiss her jaw and neck. Her back arched off of the bed, chest pressing against her husband’s. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she shut her eyes, throwing her head back.

Her phone rang again. “Fuck. What the fuck.” She groaned. She opened her eyes and turned her head saw that it was her mother calling. She grabbed her phone as Spencer sighed and crawled off of her.

“Hello?” Y/N groaned.

“Y/N, honey I’m so sorry but I can’t get Eloise to sleep.”

Y/N bit her lip and looked at the time. “Mom, it’s past ten back where you are.” She heard Eloise crying in the background.

“I’m sorry I didn’t want to have to call you—“

“It’s okay, just let me talk to her.” She shook her head and looked up at Spencer. She heard the phone shuffling and Eloise’s crying get louder.

“Hewo? M-mommy I mith you an’ Spenther.” She coughed through her cries and sniffled. “I wan’ you to come back.” She sobbed.

“I know, baby. Me and Spencer will be back so soon.” Y/N bit her lip.

“I wan’ a story!”

Y/N swallowed. “Ask grandma to read you one, honey. She’s a really good reader.” She said, glancing at Spencer.

“No! I Don’t wan’ her i wan’ Spenther!”

Y/N nodded and closed her eyes . “Okay, Eloisey? He can’t read to you right now.”

Spencer cleared his throat and she looked up at him. “I could read to her. I know every single book she has on her little shelf.” He chuckled.

The woman smiled and bit her lip. “Okay, Spencer is gonna read you a book, which one do you want him to read?”

“If— if you gave a mouse a cookie.” She sniffled on the phone.

She looked at Spencer with a small shrug and he held his hand out for the phone. He took it and Y/N let her sleep fall onto her stomach on the bed.

She closed her eyes and listened to her husband’s voice perfectly recite If You Gave A Mouse A Cookie.

She opened up her eyes and looked at him, smiling into the sheets. “God, you’re so perfect.” She whispered. He didn’t seem to hear her but his eyes slid to hers and he smiled.

She shut her eyes again and inhaled the fresh linen scent of the bed.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.

“I hate the beach.” Spencer spoke quickly. Y/N giggled and sighed. Spencer was lying on a chair and she was lying on a beach towel in the sand. “The sun is really hot and there’s sand in my hair.”

Y/N smiled and propped herself on her elbows. “Do you like my bikini, Spencer?” She asked. It was a black triangle top with white stars all over it and matching bottoms that tied on the sides. Spencer looked over the arm of the chair, mouth agape.

“I no longer hate the beach.” He said, glancing between her face and her chest.

A few minutes later, Y/N was running towards the water and Spencer was going after her. “Baby, wait!” He called.

They spent the rest of the evening in the water, splashing, kissing, laughing— just enjoying themselves as a new married couple.

As they were getting ready to leave, Y/N threw her arms around his neck. “Y’know, we never got to finish what we started earlier.” She smiled, pushing her chest into his.

He ran his hands up and down her arms. “We didn’t?” He furrowed his brows with a smile.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Nope. My mother called.” She laughed. “But, now that she doesn’t need us, we could go back to the room and I can take this off…” She leaned in more to whisper. “And you can do whatever you want to me.” She stood on her toes and nipped at his ear.

He groaned lowly. “Okay, let’s go.”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Laughing, the two entered their room. Spencer was trying to tickle her sides and she rushed away from him.

She laid on the bed and let her arms fall above her head. Spencer caught up and stood at the edge, his knees against hers. She was still wearing nothing but that tiny tie bikini. “You look so good.” He shook his head, his teeth catching his bottom lip. “And I’ve been waiting to tear this off off of you since I saw you out it on.” He reached forward and flicked the knotted string of her bikini bottom. “It took everything not to undo this in the water.” He smiled.

Y/N bit her lip. “Well, we’re alone now. You can take it off.” She nodded eagerly.

He tilted his head and leaned forward, pushing one knee between her legs but not touching her where she needed him. Instead, his hand trailed up her thigh and on top of the fabric of her swimsuit.

Her lips parted and she looked at his hand and then his face. “Take it off, Spence. Please.” She breathed out.

He didn’t listen. Instead he cupped her over the fabric. She inhaled sharply and shut her eyes. Her back arched off of the bed and she gripped the sheets above her head. “Wait, wait.” She breathed out. “At least take off your shirt, let me look at you.” She begged. He chuckled and unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it to the side.

He leaned down and hovered over her, kissing her lips and rubbed her clit through the bikini. “Mm…” She moaned and bit her lip after he broke the kiss. He moved his lips to her jaw and then towards the base of her neck. She hummed and shut her eyes, leaning back and exposing her neck to his lips. His fingers circled slowly over her and she bent her knees so her legs weren’t hanging off the edge of the bed anymore. He applied more pressure and a whine left her lips.

“I need you.” She whispered underneath the sound of his lips against her. “Please, Spencer we got cock blocked by my mother. Your cock is free now!”

He chuckled into her neck and leaned up. He grabbed the tie part of her top and pulled the string, untying it completely. She sat up a bit, letting him pull it off of her and she laid back down. He bit his lip and glanced between her breasts and her eyes. “How are you this beautiful?” He asked.

Spencer leaned down kissed the skin around her chest, biting gently a few times. She gasped softly and planted her hands in his hair, scratching his scalp gently. He groaned as he kissed lower and lower. Once he got to the bottom of her stomach, he looked up at her. He moved his head to the side, grabbing the string of her bikini bottom with his teeth. He pulled it and it became undone. Y/N watched him do this to the other side and lifted her hips up so he could pull it off.

Once he did, he grabbed her thighs and spread them apart. He kept his eyes on hers as he leaned down and kissed the insides of her thighs teasingly. Her back arched off the bed and she placed her hands in his damp, messy hair. “You know you’re teasing.” She whispered with desperation behind her voice.

“You know you love it.” He bit her softly and she jolted a bit. He decided to give her what she wanted and kissed her right on her bundle of nerves.

Her moans soon filled the room as he went to town, sucking and licking. She gripped his hair between her fingers and pulled which elicited groans from him and sent vibrations to her core.

His hands squeezed her thighs, pulling them impossibly farther apart. He ground his hips against the bed, her moans turning him on even more.

“I’m gonna— holy fuck!” She whined, not able to finish her sentence.

He pulled away for just a moment, mouth and chin glistening. “I know, baby just hold on.” He removed one of his hands from her thighs and teased her entrance with his finger.

The noises she was making only made him more eager to bury himself inside of her. He bit his lip and slowly pushed his finger inside of her. She gasped and let her head fall back against the sheets.

“M-more.” She moaned. He obeyed and pushed another finger inside. Her breaths became heavier and faster and she was a writing mess.

“Come for me, baby.” He nodded. Seconds later, she was doing just that, moaning his name.

Her chest heaved as he removed his fingers and crawled up, putting his body between her legs. He pressed his lips to hers and she hummed. She felt his hard dick pressed against her thigh through his shorts.

She trailed her nails down his sides and hooked her fingers through the loops of his cargo shorts. “Take them off,” She mumbled against his lips. He pulled away from her lips. “Come on, I need it.” She plead.

He bit his lip, watching her squirm underneath him. He unbuckled the belt he wore and tossed it across the room, his shorts following not long after. The sight of him pressed up against his boxers was excited her even more, anticipation built up waiting for the feeling she loved so much.

He adored her smile as she sat up, her fingers creeping beneath the waist band of his boxers. She looked up at him through her lashes as she pulled. He helped her take them the rest of the way off and gently pushed her back onto the bed.

She inhaled and shut her eyes as his body pressed up against her. She moaned and reached down between their bodies, guiding his dick towards her entrance. He pushed in, mouth falling open in sync with Y/N’s.

A gasp left her lips and she pushed her hips up to meet him. When he bottomed out, he stayed still waiting for Y/N to exhale and open her eyes. She clenched around him involuntarily and let out a loud breath. “Holy shit—“ She whined, feeling him slowly stretch her out.

Spencer was barely able to think about anything other than the way her nails were digging into his arms and the the way she felt wrapped around him.

“O-okay, move please.” She breathed out.

He started to snap his hips into hers at a slow pace, head falling back. “You feel so good, honey. Can’t believe I get to feel this for the rest of my life.”

Her back arched off the bed, chest meeting his and she moaned into his shoulder. “F-faster, I need it faster.” She whispered.

He nodded and began to push into her faster. He repositioned and held himself up on his knees, throwing her legs over his and gripping her hips tightly. Her core tightened and she brought her arms up over her face as she moaned loudly, feeling him deeper in the new position. He used one hand to take her arms away from her face.

“I wanna see my beautiful wife.” He groaned feeling her walls clench around him. “Fuck, Y/N!”

She squeezed her eyes shut and jolted when she felt him start to rub her clit. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Feels so good!”

Spencer gripped her hips so hard that there were sure to be bruises in the morning. Not that Y/N minded.

Her chest heaved as he pounded into her. She placed her hands over his and maintained eye contact. She smiled and let out a loud moan, closing her eyes. “I’m so fucking close…” She breathed out. Her whines grew louder and closer together.

Spencer nodded. “Me too, baby. Fuck—“ He leaned down, pressing his body against hers and placing his arms underneath her. She made a noise at the new way her was hitting her cervix and wrapped her arms around him.

“Fuck, Spencer!”

“Wait for me, beautiful.” He whispered in her ear, kissing her ear.

A moment later, the husband and wife reached their climaxes, holding each other closer than ever.

Y/N’s chest heaved and she groaned as Spencer pulled out of her and laid beside her. “I… cannot believe that’s the first time we’ve had sex since the bathroom after the ceremony.”

Spencer chuckled. “It was hard.” He nodded. “You tried to jump me in the bathroom on the airplane, Y/N.”

She squealed with laughter. “Why can I say? I could see your dick through your shorts.” She nodded, tapping the side of her head. “X-ray vision, baby.”

He rolled his eyes and began to speak but there was a knock at the door. Y/N gasped and got up from the bed quickly and headed to the bathroom so she wouldn’t be seen. Spencer stumbled up off of the bed and pulled his shorts on as quickly as possible.

He went to the door and opened it. There was an old man standing. “Hello—“

“I get that you’re a new married man but it’s 10 o’clock and the walls are thin. Pipe down, lover boy.” He grumbled.

Spencer raised his eyebrows and the man slowly shuffled away back to his room. He shut the door and heard Y/N laugh from the bathroom and rolled his eyes with a smile.

She came back out of the bathroom but this time covered (not really) in her lace lingerie. Spencer’s eyes nearly popped out of his head and his jaw slack on the floor. “Holy mother fucking shit.” He read his name that was stitched onto the front of the bottoms. “Holy shit!”

“Oh, did you think we were done, lover boy?” She asked, leaning against the frame of the door.

He swallowed and shook his head. “N-no I just thought—“

“Take those damn shorts off.” She smiled with a roll of her eyes. He did as he was told.

She walked towards him and pushed him back a bit, knees hitting the bed. He sat and looked up at her. “You’re gonna have to undress me again.” She smiled. She sat on his lap, her knees on the bed. She felt his dick pressed against her.

He nodded. “As many times as I have to.” He told her. He thought for a second. “Or… we can keep it on.” He shrugged. “I kind of like the idea of fucking my wife with my name on her.”

She tapped his lips. “Our name, you mean?”

He smiled. “Our name.”

Y/N kissed him slowly, moving her hips a little to create friction. He moaned into her mouth and placed his hands on her ass, pushing her against him every time she moved back. “You’re so fucking sexy.” He husked in between kisses.

She hummed and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pushed herself up so she was hovering and pulled away from his lips. She used one hand to reach between them and pull her underwear to the side. Then, she grabbed his cock and guided it, rubbing it between her folds between pushing it all the way back so it rested at her entrance.

He groaned and resisted the urged to push up into her and let her sink down on him. She pressed her lips against his to muffle the moan and paused, chest heaving. She pulled away from his mouth after a moment. “I will never get tired of this feeling.” He told her.

She smiled and opened her eyes, beginning to rock back and forth slowly. Spencer hissed and leaned forward, resting his head against her chest. He pressed a few kisses on her breasts here and there.

She began to move faster and he wrapped his arms around her waist, biting and kissing her chest.

Her rocking turned into bouncing and she tried her best to be quiet. Spencer, not so much. The feeling of her walls squeezing him in some sort of pattern that he had yet to figure out was driving him mad. 

It was like their bodies were made for each other. Like pieces of a puzzle. She reacted just right for him and vice versa.

She moaned loudly as he pulled her impossibly closer and he began to thrust up into her. “Oh! Fuck!” She nodded, eyes closed.“Just like that, Spence.”

(All I can think of rn is part of your world from the new little mermaid - rev) sorry lol back to the smut

He squeezed her hips as her legs squeezed the outside of his. “Close, baby?” She nodded, not able to form words anymore. He hummed and thrusted faster. “Come for me.”

Her legs shook and she arched her back, freezing in her place. She came hard, squeezing her eyes shut. She then felt Spencer finish inside of her and squeezing her so hard that there were definitely gonna be bruises.

“Fuck, wife… I love you.” He panted.

“I love you too, husband.”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Hours later, the two were laying in each other’s company, not talking but not sleeping and wrapped up in sheets. She was facing him, playing with his fingers and humming the song that they danced to on their first dance as a married couple.

All Spencer could do was stare at her. She was so unbelievably beautiful. She was ethereal. Majestic. Anything that meant beautiful, she was. Not just on the outside but on the inside as well.

Y/N inhaled deeply and looked up at him. “You creeper. Stop staring you’re making me nervous.”

He chuckled. “Aw, i still make you nervous?” He asked.

“Yes.” She rolled her eyes. She laughed when Spencer tugged her closer to him.

“I never thought I’d get this.”

The words came out of her mouth before she could even think. He furrowed his brows. “What?”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “I just… even with Jake, I never saw myself meeting a man like you, much less getting married.” She looked at him. “And now that I have you…” She pressed her lips together. “I really have no complaints in life. I think it’s perfect now.” She nodded.

“What’s perfect?” He asked.

She smiled. “Everything. My life. My life with you and Eloise. You’re perfect. It’s all perfect.”

Her words brought tears to his eyes. He never thought anyone would think of him as perfect. But now, he was married to that person. “You’re amazing.” He nodded. He sniffled and brought her hand up to kiss it and then he placed his hand on the Sid elf her face, leaning forward and kissing her sweetly.

She wiped a fallen tear with her thumb as they kissed and he smiled into it.

Yes, this was perfect.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

YALL I DID IT

First of all, hi loves! I missed you and I’m soooo sorry but the writers block was real for this one lmao

But, I’m trying to be back now that it’s summer! And guys, I’m a junior in college now!! And it was just my birthday so yay for me!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter!!

Love ya bunches ❤️❤️❤️

P.S: this is not the end! There are more to come 😉 let me know what else you want to see with the Reid’s!!

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