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moody-alcoholic · 2 days ago

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These Violent Delights

Chapter 30 - Clear Blue Sky

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe 12k words.

CW: +18 content MDNI. a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes, panic attack, mental health, flashback, PTSD, sex, PiV sex, oral (M&F receiving), fivesome MMMMF, threesome MMF, cum play (kinda but not really), hurt/comfort, angst, mild self harm (scolding). AN: I'm not 100% happy with this chapter, I might come back and edit it a bit at a later date.

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Price walks into the room, Ghost has his back to the door. He doesn’t move though, John can hear a tap running.

“He talked?” John asks, closing the door behind him.

“He talked.” Simon says, the tap turns off.

“What did he say?” John asks, he watches as Simon braces himself on the sink.

“It doesn’t matter what he said.” John clenches his jaw, he looks down at the papers on the table. It’s all the intel they managed to gather, no one expected them to talk. John was already running out of time, MI6 were desperate to send them back to America, back to Graves.

“You think he’s lying?” John asks, steping up to the table.

“Intel’s solid, Laswell’s already checked it out.” Ghost sighs, turning around to look at John.

“You think it’s a trap?” John asks, Ghost looks away for a second before crossing his arms and leaning back up against the sink.

“Awfully conveniently. Gets caught breaks in less than an hour.” Ghost says, raising an eyebrow.

“Some people are not built for interrogation.” John reminds him, especially not Ghost’s type of interrogation. There’s silence in the room, John's mind goes back to when they caught the second guy. Graves' men are smart, he trains them well. A mole deep in a military base that's a valuable asset to just give up.

“We still go, follow the lead. We’re only planning on doing reconnaissance anyway, we’re gathering intel, following leads.” John says crossing his arms, Ghost stands up off the sink and walks over to the table.

“And if it is a trap?” Ghost asks.

“Worst case scenario we go in alone. That's why I need you with me.” John says, it's the worst case scenario, if they’re forced to go against Shadow Company, Graves and Hale alone before Soap and Gaz can get to them.

“She’ll be safe in Scotland.” John says trying to keep his voice level, Ghost is staring down into his eyes.

“No. No she won’t. She won’t be safe anywhere until Hale is dead.”

You’re leaving today.

For once you’re happy you’re leaving. You hate this place, nothing good has happened here. You slept in Johnny's room last night, you’re not sure why it just felt right and he was more than happy to have you with him. He's barely taken his hands off you as you slowly made your way down for breakfast. You look outside and only see 2 random soldiers at the gate entrance.

You’re not going to miss the strangers, you’re looking forward to spending some time alone with your pack. You can’t wait to go to the loch, you can’t wait to get back to the countryside with the rolling fields and the dense trees. After breakfast when you walk out of the dining room with Johnny, Kyle and Simon are starting to pile bags up in the lobby.

“Johnny.” Simon calls walking over to you both. “Car’s going to be here in a bit, where's all your stuff?”

“Chill LT. It’ll be ready.” Johnny says, patting his shoulder.

“Should have been ready this morning.” Simon says before turning to look at you. “What about you? Need a hand?”

“No, I’m almost finished, I just have to pack up my nest.” You say smiling. It’s the last thing you’ll pack, things always feel so weird when you don’t have one. You can’t wait to get back to the one in Scotland, you knew leaving it there instead of packing it up was a good idea. He nods going back over to the pile of bags.

“Have you really not packed yet?” You say looking at him. He sighs, squeezing your hip.

“We’re not leaving for another 2 hours, I’ve got plenty of time.” He says smiling. It makes you chuckle, you see John step out of his office he smiles at you while Johnny calls Kyle over.

“I’m going to finish packing, have a shower.” You say.

“Okay, love.” Johnny says and kisses your head before you turn and head upstairs. You grab a pair of comfy clothes from your bag, you’re going to have a long car journey and you want to be comfortable and hopefully sleep most of the way.

You look down at your nest. You should really pack that up first. You take out the important things, the tokens you have from each of them including Piper's scarf. You pack them up on the top of your bag and start to fold the blankets. When you’re done you look at the now barren spot. It feels wrong, it feels weird. You don’t have a nest here anymore, honestly you don’t mind.

You miss your nest in Scotland, you smile thinking about going back there. Apparently it’ll be warmer this time you might get to spend even more time outside. You pick up your bag and drop it outside your door with your fresh change of clothes and a towel tucked under your arm.

You can hear Johnny and Kyle laughing in the lobby, you peek over the railing and see them moving bags around. It makes you happy, it makes you smile seeing them smile and joke with each other. Simon is standing next to John with his arms crossed, you can’t hear what they’re talking about.

You head into John’s room, he has already packed and stripped the bed. You throw your clothes down and head into the en-suite. You don’t have time for a bath besides you’ll have plenty of time when you get to Scotland.

You leave the doors open so you can hear the laughter and the voices traveling through the building. You strip, turning the shower on and holding your hand under it until it gets warm. When you step in you see there's only a bottle of body wash, you’ll have to wait until you get to the house to wash your hair. You reach picking it up to squirt some into your hand.

You freeze when you see the scars. They’re taking longer to heal. You remember the man who attacked Piper, you remember the look in his eyes, he had one job and that was to kill. Before you can stop yourself you drop the bottle reaching to turn the heat up on the water. You let the heat pound on your back until your skin stings.

You remember the pain, the hot fiery drag of the blade against your skin, the adrenaline pumping through your system. You remember your only thought being to protect her, he would have had to go through you before he laid a finger on her. Your stomach feels like it’s doing flips and your heart feels like it’s going to jump out your chest.

Your legs feel like jelly and you slide down the side of the shower to the floor. You bring your knees to your chest and look down at your hands. You kept forgetting to talk to Piper about why they’re taking so long to heal. Maybe it’s because the sink is so soft. Maybe they will never fully heal and you’ll have a reminder for the rest of your life. You squeeze your eyes closed trying to ignore the pain rushing through your body.

The hot water burns your skin but you don’t want to move.

'You saved a liar.’ Hale's voice rings in your head. It’s been a while since you’ve heard him.

“Go away!” You call. You know he’s not there, you know he’s in your head but it helps anyway. You hear him laughing and you slap your hands up to your ears. You can hear the rapid thumping of your heart, your head starts spinning and you squeeze your eyes closed trying to ignore the laughing and focus on the sound of the shower.

Suddenly someone grabs you, they grab your wrists, taking your hands off your ears. You cry out trying to fight them as they pull you out of the shower.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” It’s Simon, you open your eyes choking on a sob. He pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you while you try to control your breathing. “You’re okay, you’re okay.” You can smell the scent of alpha filling your nose, you start to relax against him as silent tears fall down your face.

You can still hear the shower running, Hale’s laughing has gone, leaving you with just the pounding of your heart and Simon’s gentle voice. You grip his shirt, pressing your hands on his chest, you can feel his steady heartbeat under your hand, you shiver as the water turns cold and the cool air hits your skin.

“What happened?” He asks after a few more seconds of silence.

“I was thinking about Piper. About the time she got attacked.” You say, looking down at your palm, you can’t tell if the scars look worse or if it’s just your imagination. He lets out a sign moving a hand down your arm, he picks up your hand pressing his thumb into your palm, you wrap your fingers around it. It’s good, it helps ground you.

“You were very brave.” He says, you sniffle.

“I didn’t feel brave. I just couldn’t let her get hurt.” You sigh. Simon just holds you in his arms rubbing your palm with his thumb until you start to shiver. Then he helps you to your feet and warps you in a towel leading you back into John’s room

“Do you want me to stay?” Simon asks as you go over to the clean clothes laid out on the bed.

“No. I’m okay.” You say looking up at him, he smiles and bends down to kiss you on the forehead.

“I’ll send Johnny up to help you with the bags.” He says, you nod watching him leave and close the door behind. You look down at the stripped bed, you remember laying in there with him, now the whole room feels empty.

You dry yourself changing into your fresh comfy clothes before Johnny comes into the room beaming at you. He doesn't ask questions, he just picks up the rest of John’s bags and yours and you help him take them down into the lobby. The car is already here even though you’re not leaving for another hour at least.

While Johnny goes to help Simon and Kyle load the car, you walk over to John's office. He has his back to the door boxing paperwork up on his desk. You knock on the door and he turns to see you, he frowns coming over to you holding your face in his hands.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yeah. I- I don’t know, I was in the shower.” You choke on the words suddenly feeling a chill in the air. He drops his hands walking past you to close the door to his office. You wait until he’s back in your view, his hands land on the top of your arms.

“Can I call Piper?” You ask.

“Of course,” he says, moving around to the phone on his desk. He picks it up, you rub your thumb over the scars on your palm. You don’t know why you’re nervous, everything feels like it’s changed. You haven’t spoken to her since she left, you’ve been too busy distracted with packing and getting ready to move.

“I need a secure outside line please.” John asks, secure , she’s somewhere safe. John promised you she was somewhere safe, no one will be able to find her, not even Hale or Shadow Company. He offers you the phone, you step up, taking it out his hand and bringing it to your ear.

You hear the line ringing. “Hello?” The voice is so familiar to you it puts you at ease immediately.

“Piper.” You say.

“Hey hun, what’s wrong?” She asks, suddenly sounding concerned.

“Nothing. I think I just needed to hear your voice.” You say suddenly feeling silly.

“I’ve only been gone two days.” She chuckles.

“I know. I just miss you.”

“Well, things have been going well over here. Are you still on the base?”

“Yeah, we’re leaving today actually.” You look up at John who smiles.

“Yeah? I bet you can’t wait.” You can hear the smile in her voice, you smile too.

“I’m looking forward to seeing the loch.”

“Good, you need a good rest, you deserve a good rest.” You smile, tangling your finger around the phone wire. You’re not sure what to say, you just want to keep listening to her talk.

“Are you sure there’s not anything else you need?” She asks after a few more moments of silence.

“No. I’m okay.” You say, you are, you are okay.

“Oh actually before I go, is John around?”

“Yeah, he’s here.” You say, you hold the phone out for John who steps forward and takes it.

“Piper.” He says, you let go of the wire and reach out to grip his hand.

“She’s okay.” He says his hand coming up to your face. You smile.

“I’ll talk to them about it.” He says. “We’ll call you when we’re in Scotland. Of course. Bye.” He pulls the phone away from his ear and suddenly you’re upset you didn’t get to say goodbye.

“She had a delivery show up, we’ll call her when we get to Scotland.” He says reaching over to put the phone down. His hand drops from your face to rest on your shoulder. There's a knock on the door, he turns calling whoever it is in.

“Williams is at the gate.” Johnny says. John nods.

“Why don’t you go help Johnny finish packing. Then we’ll be on our way.” You nod heading over to the door for Johnny to throw his arm around you.

“If we’re lucky we’ll make it there before dark and we can stop off at the loch.” He says.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” You reply smiling.

You don’t make it to the house until the sun has well and truly set beyond the horizon. When you do get there you can’t wait to get out and stretch your legs. Johnny and Kyle drove this time so you were squished in the back between Simon and John. You didn’t mind too much, it just meant you had less room.

Johnny and Kyle spend most of the drive talking about music and singing along to songs Johnny plays through his phone, fighting about others and comparing musicians they like. You don’t mind, you get to listen to so many music genres you didn’t even know existed. When you make it over the Scottish border John complains of a headache which is met by tuts of disappointment from Johnny and Kyle and the music is switched off in favour of the radio.

You lean up against him hugging his arm and manage to take a nap for the second half of the journey. When you get to the house you’re almost pushing them out of the car. Simon opens the boot and takes out one of the bags before closing it.

“Hey, why don’t you pop into town with Johnny?” John asks. You frown at him and look back in the car to see Johnny still in the driver's seat. You don’t really want to but you nod anyway.

“Good.” John says kissing you on the forehead. You stretch before getting in the front seat.

“We won’t be long, love. Just got to pick up a few things so we don’t starve.” He says, you nod watching as the others go into the house.

Johnny’s right the shopping doesn’t take long, it’s only an hour before the place is going to close so you’re only picking up essentials; tea, milk, eggs and bacon for breakfast tomorrow, bread, cheese and some stuff to throw in the oven for dinner later.

The town looks different now the Christmas decorations have been taken down, it’s still pretty, it's so warm and inviting, especially the main street with the orange street lights beaming down.

“Do you think we could go back to the pub?” You ask as you stop at the top of the street, you see it on the corner there are a few people sat outside in the cold smoking.

“Yeah don’t see why not.” Johnny says as he turns down the road back out of the town. The drive home feels longer for some reason and Johnny seems distracted checking his phone every few minutes or so. He seems nervous about something, it’s starting to make you nervous.

“Is everything okay?” You ask as he pulls off the main road and down the private drive.

“Yeah.” He smiles pulling right up to the house. You nod and go around to the back of the car to take the shopping out. When you make it in the house it’s warm, the living room door is closed so you head into the kitchen. No one is around, they must all be in the living room.

Johnny helps you put the shopping away.

“What about the rest of the bags?” You ask, remembering Simon only took one of them out.

“We’ll get them later.” He says closing the fridge. You nod and go to head towards the living room.

“Wait!” Johnny calls. It makes you jump. He walks over to you grabbing your arm. “Sorry, we have a surprise for you.” You frown at him, he just smiles but you still feel nerves rising in you.

“C’mon.” He says, leading you down the hallway to the living room door. Before you go in you both kick your shoes off. When you’re done Johnny covers your eyes with his hand and you hear him open the door.

“What is going on?” You ask, trying not to show how nervous you feel. You trust him, all of them. He would never do anything to hurt you, none of them would.

“It’s a surprise.” Johnny repeats, as you struggle to walk straight. Suddenly he removes his hands but you keep your eyes closed. “Open your eyes, love.” When you do, you see the living room has been transformed into what looks like a massive bed. The sofa is still there but the coffee table and other furniture has been moved. The floor is covered from wall to wall with mattresses covered in blankets and quilts, with pillows spread everywhere.

John, Simon and Kyle are already sat around, you smile and step onto the mattress before falling to your knees. The bedding is soft and you can see the fire roaring away, other than a floor lamp it’s the only other light source in the room. The low light and the warm room immediately makes you relax, Kyle crawls over to you and he leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back, reaching out for his arm, running your hand down to his.

You feel Johnny coming behind you, his hands land on your shoulders and he presses his chest against your back. Kyle pulls from the kiss and you look up at the twinkle in his eyes. John comes over picking your hand up and lacing his fingers with yours, you realise there’s even soft music playing you almost missed, they really have gone all out.

“We’re not needed anywhere, no one knows where we are, we’re safe.” John says, kissing the back of your hand. “Tonight is all about you. Whatever you want.” You’re not sure what you want. You’d be happy to just lay here with them all together like it’s one big nest.

You lean over and kiss John, your hands press on his chest and he lays back on the pillows. You just don’t want them to stop touching you and they don't. Johnny's hands run up the back of your top, Kyle’s fingers dig into the soft skin of your arse and hips.

They move without bumping into each other. You’re so busy sloppy making out with John when lips press on your shoulder you shiver, they move up to your neck pressing gentle kisses. You hear movement and look over and see Simon coming over to you, you sit back on your knees and wait, he reaches out with one of his hands to rub your cheek.

“How about we just take care of you. You need it.” Simon says before kissing you. Holy shit this is actually happening. You don’t have time to panic or overthink them all being with you at once. Your mind is racing, you can feel your cheeks burning. The scent of vanilla fills the room, you watch as they react to it while you just sit there and let them run their hands and lips all over you. John sits up a little running his hand up your thigh while Simon attacks your mouth, playing with your tongue, his hands pressed around your face, it's needy and breathless.

Johnny moans in your neck sending vibrations down your spine. Kyle’s hands start running up your top you don’t stop him, Johnny’s hand on your back stops at the bottom. A finger teases below your waistband, you lift your arms in the air and Johnny’s hands glady pull up the hem of the top.

You break from the kiss and look down at John who smiles at you as Johnny pulls the top off over your head. Kyle’s thumb brushes over one of your nipples and you let out a long breath. John chuckles, squeezing your thigh before propping himself up on his elbows. His eyes wash over you like he’s looking at you for the first time.

Johnny’s chest is pressed up against your back, his hands running up and down your thighs. “Stunnin’ sweetheart.” Johnny says gripping your hips, his thumbs slipping below your waistband. It’s almost like he wants to claw the rest of your clothes off.

“Calm down Johnny, let's give her a second to breathe.” Simon says, his hand running up to the back of Johnny’s neck causing him to sit back. John moves, gesturing for you to lay next to him. You smile and crawl over to him laying back against the pillows.

He turns on his side, his hand rests on your stomach before moving up to your chest. His eyes look dark in the low light but you can still see the shine of deep blue, you reach over to touch his face running your fingers through his beard tracing his jaw line.

“Our omega. You’ve been through so much.” He turns his head kissing your palm. “Let us make you feel good.” You smile and he leans in to kiss you.

Johnny moaning breaks you from the kiss and you both look down at him, his mouth locked around Simon’s pushing him down onto the bed. Kyle chuckles next to you and you turn to look at him. He smiles, his hand coming to stroke your face. John hums next to you his hand travels down your body to your stomach, then to the front of your pants.

Kyle kisses you, it’s long and slow, his thumb brushes your cheek as he plays with your tongue. You moan in his mouth as his other hand comes to squeeze your breast. He breaks from the kiss for a second pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says before pressing his lips back on yours. John’s hand slips down into your pants, you spread your legs as much as you can, letting out a breath. You’re trying to focus on Kyle, your hands running up his top as John’s fingers press through your folds and land on your clit.

“John.” You breathe as he presses down hard before rubbing tight circles. You moan and Johnny and Simon’s attention turns to you. Johnny chuckles climbing off Simon and coming over, his hands grip your waistband pulling your pants off in one quick motion. You spread your legs fully for John and he presses his fingers inside you.

“Fuck.” You call balling Kyle’s top up in your hands. Johnny moves up to sit behind him pulling it off over his head. Kyle’s mouth comes down to one of your breasts and you lean back on the pillows. Simon moves to lay down between your legs running his hands up them. There’s so much going on you’re not sure who to focus on.

John’s fingers curl up inside you making you moan out, Kyle’s tongue flicks your nipple and you reach out to touch him. John’s hand presses down on your stomach as you start to squirm. Simon’s hands and mouth don’t stop either, pressing kisses up your legs and running his hands over your thighs. There’s so much going on it’s almost overstimulating, not to mention the overwhelming scents in the room making your head spin. You reach out and grab John’s free hand to warn him you’re about to come.

“That’s it, love.” John says, his voice is low, sending shivers down your spine. You clench around his fingers as you cum crying out as you try not to dig your nails into Kyle’s chest. John rides you through the orgasm, Kyle's mouth comes off your nipple and you look up at Johnny’s face buried in his neck, he smiles at you as you pant through the overstimulation.

John takes his hand out of you and you look up at him. He leans over to press a kiss on your lips.

“Good girl.” He says, it makes you blush, your head pounds, it’s like you can smell the pleasure in the room, you see his pupils dilate. “Who do you want first?” You frown for a second, you didn’t think you would get a choice, you’re not sure what to say.

“Kyle.” You say before you overthink it. Johnny groans which makes Kyle chuckle as he prys himself from Johnny’s arms.

“Quit complaining Johnny.” Simon says kneeling at your feet pulling his shirt off over his head. “Come over here, make yourself useful.”

John chuckles, you look over at him and push your hand up his chest under his shirt. He gets the idea pulling it off, your hand runs up his stomach. You like how John feels under your hand, it’s soft and safe, you know where each scar is, where he likes to be touched. Where he doesn’t like to be touched, you run your fingers through his hair resting your hand over his heart.

“My turn next.” He says smiling as he leans down to kiss you. You just nod in response as you hear belt buckles clicking. Johnny and Kyle are already naked Simon’s laid back against the opposite wall to you, one leg bent watching Johnny throw his clothes to the side. Kyle shuffles around kneeling between your legs, your mouth fills with saliva as his hands run up your thighs.

He hooks his hands under your knees pulling you close to him, his cock is already hard resting on your stomach. John hums, reaching down to run his hand over Kyle's cock and you watch it twitch. John takes the opportunity to move, resting you against his chest, his arms wrapping around your stomach.

John removes his hand and Kyle reaches down to your pussy, his fingers are against your entrance before leaning back and replacing them with his cock. You feel nervous all of a sudden you’re not sure why, you don’t think about it for long though before he presses into you.

It feels like he’s pushing all the air out your lungs, John moves so he can support your back better and you lean against him. He whispers in your ear, rubbing your nipples with his fingers and running his tongue up the back of your neck over his mark.

Kyle is gentle, slow, he takes his time rewarding you with nice long thrusts that make your toes curl. You’re glad you picked Kyle first, you need this, something soft and slow, sensual with gentle touches and praises being whispered in your ears.

Kyle moans, changing his pace a little and you see Johnny’s head pop up behind Kyle, then Simon a second later. You’re not sure what they're doing but whatever it is it makes Kyle speed up and moan, tipping his head to the side and resting it against Johnny who kisses him.

“Don’t get distracted.” Simon says in a low voice running his hand down Kyle's arm. It makes you shiver, Kyle moves, angling himself better against your hips hitting deeper and deeper inside you.

“Fuck.” you breath clenching around him, you’re getting close already. Johnny smiles reaching over to rub your clit which causes you to cry out and arch your back. Simon presses a hand on your stomach and both you and Kyle moan at the same time. His thrusts are desperate now, he’s close too, his fingers digging into your hips.

You can barely call his name when you cum, tipping your head back and squeezing your eyes closed. Kyle mumbles as he cums throbbing inside you while Johnny’s still assaulting your clit. When you open your eyes you see Kyle leaning over to kiss you.

All you can smell is leather, it’s so strong in the air it’s making you dizzy. When you break from the kiss you look over at Johnny who practically shoves Kyle out the way so he can get between your legs. It makes you chuckle as Kyle flops down beside you, his hand resting on your stomach. You turn to look at him and he smiles, his hand moves up between your breasts before making its way over to one of your nipples.

“You okay?” He asks, you nod as you feel the tip of Johnny’s cock tease your entrance. You turn slightly to address John.

“I thought you wanted to go next?” You say, he chuckles kissing the top of your head.

“I’ve got all the time in the world.” He says. It makes you blush for some reason and before you know it Johnny is inside you with one slick thrust. He’s eager, imminently grunting and slamming his hips against you.

“Christ, love. So fucking perfect aint you?” He says, you’ve come to learn Johnny is pretty vocal when it comes to sex. If he’s not throwing a string of praises at you he’s moaning and grunting as he drives his cock into you, the sound of skin on skin drowns out the soft music.

Kyle’s hands don’t stop running over your body, his hand squeezing your breasts or stroking your face. John keeps whispering sweet things in your ears, his thumb brushing his mark sending vibrations down your spine. It’s a strange feeling but you don’t mind it.

“Love you so much. Our perfect omega.” John breathes before pressing a kiss on your cheek.

“Anything for you.” You reply back breathlessly. Johnny picks up his speed and you look down to see Simon naked on his knees, his arms are around Johnny as he nips at his earlobe. One of his hands is on his nipple.

“Si-” Johnny chokes on his words. You watch as Simon’s hand runs up to wrap around his neck. Johnny arches his back. Christ , that's hot.

“Better make her feel good Johnny.” Simon’s growling in his ears, Johnny wimpers you feel his cock twitching in you. You’re going to cum again quicker then before, Kyle seems to pick up on it and his hand moves from your breast to your clit. As soon as his fingers brush it you squeeze around Johnny's cock as he bucks his hips into you.

“Johnny.” You call, you can’t hold it back anymore, not now Kyle is rubbing tight circles.

“Yes, yes, yes.” Johnny calls breathlessly, Simon holds him up as you cum, seconds later you feel Johnny spill inside you, his cock throbs his hips slow as he pumps into you. Kyle moves his hand as you start to shake from overstimulation.

“Fuck, love. I don’t think I’ll ever have enough of you.” Johnny says, Simon is running his hands over Johnny's body. Johnny pulls out then presses his fingers inside you, coating them in cum and your slick before bringing his fingers up to Simon’s lips.

You watch as Johnny pushes them into his mouth and Simon sucks them clean. You feel your body getting warm again, there's a pulsing between your legs as you watch Simon’s tongue lapping at Johnny’s fingers.

You want Simon. You want your alpha. You prop yourself up off John and sit up on your knees. Johnny sees you and moves out the way taking his fingers with him as you reach out to touch Simon. You kneel up and kiss him, you can taste salt and sweet, you can smell his alpha and vanilla. His hands run up your body, your hands run down to his cock.

He hums in your mouth, pressing his tongue against yours. You pump his cock with your hand feeling it twitch, his hands land on your shoulders and he gently pushes you back. John’s hand lands on the top of your back, he kisses your shoulder before looking up at Simon.

You look down at Simon’s cock in your hands, You’ve only ever been with Simon when you’ve been in heat. He’s definitely the biggest out of all of them. You thrust down it with 2 hands rubbing your thumb over the tip smothering the bead of precum around. Your mouth fills with saliva, you bend down wrapping your mouth around the tip.

He moans out instantly, one of his hands comes to run through your hair while he sits back on his legs. You can’t take him all the way so you use your hand around the base of his cock to make up for it. You like the fact he makes your eyes water, you like his moans and the way his fingers press on your head.

You get better position propping yourself up on your knees and your other hand flat on the bed to stabilise yourself. John’s hands start to run up the inside of your thighs and you hear him pulling the last of his clothes off. His fingers brush your clit, before he presses one of his fingers inside you causing you to moan around Simon’s cock.

“Fuck, love. So this is what Johnny’s been teaching you.” Simon says. You smile but you can’t answer.

“Didn’t teach her anything. She’s a natural.” Johnny says, you hear Kyle tut. You wonder what they’re doing, you can hear lips smacking with each other sometimes. You feel John’s hand run up your back all the way to your neck. It makes you shudder and you slow your mouth squeezing the base of Simon's cock.

He twitches in your mouth causing it to fill with saliva. John’s hand runs back down and he spreads your legs slightly. You feel his cock brush between your thighs, he nudges your clit, you arch your back trying to press closer to him. One of his hands lands on the small of your back, his other guides his cock to your entrance pressing it in.

You squeeze Simon’s cock again and he scrunches your hair. It makes your eyes water but you don’t stop, your body throbs as John starts to thrust in and out of you. Your head pulses along with your pussy, you focus on keeping Simon satisfied. The smell of alpha and vanilla is so strong all you can think about is satisfying them, making your alphas feel good.

You wish you could talk, tell them how good they're making you feel, how good Simon tastes in your mouth and how his moans make goosebumps rise across your body. John’s fingers dig into your hips, the room is filled with the sound of skin hitting skin and moans from them both.

“Such a good omega for us.” John says, you hum pushing your mouth down Simon’s cock as far as you can.

“Fuckin’ perfect.” Simon breathes, his breathing picks up and he gently presses on the back of your head encouraging you to take him deeper each time. John’s hand reaches down to rub your clit, you feel Simon’s cock hitting the back of your throat as he starts to buck his hips in time with your mouth.

Your body starts to shake, you’re not going to be able to last long, your breathing picks up, your heart is racing in your chest. You clench around John trying to warn him you’re close.

“You close love?” He asks, you hum loudy around Simon’s cock trying to keep up with his hips. “Simon?”

“Yeah, christ , yeah.” Simon pants, his other hand comes down to rest on your cheek. “C’mon, love, let go, let yourself feel good.” You want to nod but you can't, you come at the same time as John, he stops inside you. You feel his knot swell, you’re not in heat but you don’t mind if he knots you, either way you shake through the orgasm feeling John’s cock throb deep inside you.

“Fuck-” The words catch in Simon’s throat as he cums in your mouth. His hot seed hits the back of your throat and you gag squeezing around the base of his cock, you swallow it down. He immediately pulls out of your mouth bending down and cupping your face in his hands.

“You good.” He asks, you feel John pull out of you, it’s strangely disappointing. You wouldn’t have minded the rest. Your knees tremble and you relax into Simon’s arms.

“Yeah.” You say choking on the word. John comes over brushing the hair stuck to your face.

“You did so well for us.” He says, you smile blinking up at him. He leans in to kiss you, your mouth tastes of salt but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Towels and start a bath.” You hear Simon say as John breaks from the kiss. You can smell their alpha filling the room overwhelming the scent of vanilla and leather. You hear Johnny and Kyle leave and John turns, reaching over the sofa to crack open one of the windows.

“So perfect for us, love.” Simon says, you look up at him, one of his arms supports your back the other comes down to brush your cheek. “ Our perfect omega.” You smile up at him, your throat is suddenly dry. John pulls one of the blankets off the couch, throwing it over you and Simon.

You let out a long breath even though your heart is still hammering in your chest. John pulls his boxers back on before standing up. He rests his hand on your head, you yawn feeling the deep throbbing in your body fade. Your thighs feel sticky, your body covered in a thin layer of sweat.

“I’ll get you some water then you can go for a nice long bath.” John says, you nod as he moves his hand and you hear someone walk back into the room. You don’t turn to see who it is but Simon does. A second later Johnny bends down by your side, he’s dressed now. He pulls the blanket back slightly bringing a towel over to wipe between your legs.

“There you go, did so well for us.” He says pressing kisses on your cheek and neck while he cleans you. When you start to shiver he stops pulling the blanket back around you. John comes back with a glass of water you gladly accept and gulp down.

“Baths ready.” You hear Kyle say from behind you. Simon moves like he’s about to transfer you to someone else’s arms.

“Will you come?” You say looking up at Simon. He nods, smiling and helps you to your feet. You both walk up to the bathroom, the place is warm, the tap is still running and the whole room smells of something floral and sweet. Simon walks over and turns off the tap before climbing into the bath.

You climb in with him leaning back against his chest, you relax as he wraps his arms around you.

“I love you, Simon.” You say, closing your eyes. He kisses the top of your head.

“I love you too.”

“I used to think you hated me.” You say opening your eyes back up and watching the bubbles swirl in the bath.

“I never hated you.” He says, you’re not sure if you believe him or not.

“It’s okay if you did. I understand, it was a new world for you.” You say, he sighs.

“I never hated you.” He repeats. “I was worried you were going to hate me.” You turn to look up at him, you frown at him, you’re not sure what to say.

“Why would I ever hate you? You saved me.”

Simon smiles down at you. “I’m so glad we did.” His hand comes out of the water pulling your hair behind your ear and kissing your forehead.

“I’m so glad I found you. I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.” You say resting on his chest as his thumbs come to brush over his mark.

“We almost didn’t take the job. It was a spur of the moment plan, we were about to fly back to the UK.” He sighs, you watch his fingers trace his mark. “Finding you was a shock to us all. All I can think about is what would have happened if we didn’t take it.”

“It’s okay, it’s over now.” You say reaching up to rest your hand on his and squeeze it.

“It’s not over yet, but it will be, when we get Hale. Then it will be over.” He says. You don’t want to think about him right now, you had such a good time with them you’re not going to ruin it by thinking about him.

You lean against his chest, you project your scent for him, it’s still filled with vanilla making your head swim. After a few more minutes of laying in his arms he moves to help you scrub your body. He uses something floral before offering to braid your hair.

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that.”

“I didn’t, Johnny taught me.” He says. It makes you smile, he learnt that for you, he didn’t need to do that. When he’s done you both get out of the bath and go to get changed into some fresh pyjamas. He’s waiting for you in the hall, you yawn when you see him suddenly feeling tired. Your body feels heavy and satisfied.

When you make it back down to the living room the sheets have been changed, the lamp has been turned off the only light now comes from the fire Kyle is stoking and the TV. Johnny smiles at you when he sees you shuffling and patting the spot next to him. You smile and go over sitting down and leaning against him.

“You smell good.” He says kissing your forehead. You go to smile but yawn instead. “Tired?” You nod and he shuffles down the bed a little so you’re laying flat with one hand under a pillow. You turn letting Johnny hug you from behind you feel his chest against your back. You look up at John who reaches over pulling a blanket over you both.

You reach over your hand lands on his thigh, he rests his hand on yours and smiles down at you.

“Thank you.” You say yawning again and closing your eyes. The sound of soft music has been replaced by the low drone of the TV and noise from the kitchen. Johnny squeezes you tight, pressing a kiss on your neck. You let out a long breath and relax into the nest surrounded by your pack, the way it should be.

…

You’re cuddled up sleeping between Simon and Johnny, John is laid up against the sofa with Kyle’s head resting on his thighs. He looks over at you watching your chest rise and fall. You look so peaceful, you’re warm and safe. Surrounded by your pack - the people you love and who love you back.

It’s how it should be, for a few minutes he lets himself be sad. He doesn’t want to leave, he wants nothing more than to forget about all of this, Hale and Shadow company, the cure and Graves. But Simon is right, Piper is right; they’ll never be truly safe until Hale’s dead.

“Not tired?” Kyle asks quietly. John looks down at him, his hand comes to stroke his cheek.

“A lot on my mind.” He sighs.

“Wanna talk about it?” Kyle asks, John shakes his head sighing. Maybe he could but not right now, he wants to enjoy this time while he can before he has to leave for at least a month, maybe longer.

“Are you really going to leave?” Kyle asks, looking up at him.

“I don’t have a choice. Hale needs to die.”

“She’s not going to be happy about it.” Kyle says. John looks down at him running his hand over his head. It reminds him of you, when you lay in his lap. This time it's different though, it doesn’t feel the same. There’s no scent to help him relax, it’s just Kyle.

“Simon.” You call out, Kyle sits up as John’s eyes flick over to you. You’re still asleep, your eyes closed as you reach out to the person in front of you. It’s Simon and he wakes wrapping his arms around you.

“I’m here love, I got you.” You murmur in response it wakes Johnny who presses closer against your back reaching over to touch Simon. Johnny kisses the back of your head as you nuzzle your face into Simon’s chest, still mumbling.

He shushes you, his hand running over your head. Even here safe and surrounded by your pack you can’t rest. John sighs as Kyle goes back to lay on his lap. Piper said things would get worse before they got better. He knew that already, he hopes it helps you, opening up to Piper about the past. Or maybe it will make things worse and both the alphas are about to leave.

“I’ll tell her tomorrow. Then at least she has a few days before we have to leave.” John says.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come instead of Simon?” Kyle asks.

“No.” John sighs. “It’s only for a month, follow up on some leads, maybe try and track him down at least, then we’ll go from there.”

Kyle nods yawning and John looks back over at you scrunched up between Johnny and Simon. He pushes the thought of Hale and the cure out his head, this week is for you, to help ground you. You need this after everything that's happened. You need a break, and you’re going to get it.

You wake in the nest, you look around the room, everyone is here and everyone is still sleeping. You can hear gentle snoring, you’re wrapped up in Johnny and Simon's arms. Kyle is behind Johnny, his hand reaching over to rest on your hip. You smile looking for Price who’s back-to-back behind Simon.

You don’t want to move, you don’t want to break this perfect image, you are safe, surrounded by your pack - people who love you. It’s perfect, it’s all you ever imagined it would be. Johnny shuffles behind you and you hear Kyle grumble squeezing your hip before opening his eyes and propping himself up.

“Morning.” He says, his voice heavy with sleep. Johnny wakes next, reaching over to push Simon's shoulder. Simon moves, squeezing you tight before opening his eyes and looking down at you.

“Morning,” he says, his voice even rougher than Kyle who’s now on his feet walking across the room to the kitchen.

“I’ll get the kettle going. We should go to the loch later.” He says smiling. You prop yourself up excitedly smiling back at him. You’ve been waiting to go to the loch since you found out you were coming back. Johnny chuckles running his hand up your back and you look over to see John sitting up itching his beard. He smiles back at you when he sees you before getting up and heading into the kitchen.

“You look so pretty when you smile like that.” Simon says his hand comes up to brush your cheek. You over at him, you lean in and kiss him. His lips are soft and warm, you’re drinking him up kissing him deep as you run your hand up his body.

You hear the kettle click and break from the kiss. Johnny gets up and offers you his hand. You smile and take it getting up and following him into the kitchen.

…

The sun is out and high in the sky. You remember the way to the loch and you're practically draging them there holding Johnny’s hand as he tries to get you to slow down. You can’t help it though you’re too excited.

When you make it to the loch, you drop his hand jogging down to the edge of the water. It’s lapping on the stones, you can smell the damp wood in the air. The breeze hits you. It's cold on your face coming off the water. It carries the scents of the forest with it.

You hear the crunching of the stones as everyone comes up behind you. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath in as a hand comes to rub the top of your back. You lean on Kyle opening your eyes to look back over the water.

“I really love it here.” You say. Johnny chuckles next to you reaching down to pick up a stone.

“It’s very beautiful.” Kyle says as his hand drops down to your waist.

“I wish I could stay here forever with you, all of you.” You say smiling.

“We’re not going anywhere.” Johnny says, skipping the stone along the water. You let out a sigh, you know that's not true even if you don’t want to admit it to yourself. Eventually John will leave, or at least you expect him to. You know he wants to kill Hale, he can’t do that from here.

You turn to look back at John and Simon stood a little further behind you talking. John smiles at you with a cigar between his lips. The professor smokes cigars, you swallow the lump in your throat turning away. You don’t want to think about him right now. This is a beautiful place and you’re with the people you love.

“Can you show me how to do that again?” You say pushing the thought away and bending down to pick up a stone.

…

When you make it back to the house it feels like something has changed. Maybe you’re just tired from the walk but when you make it through the door everyone's attitude seems to go quiet. It lingers all the way through lunch, it’s uncomfortable but you can’t put your finger on it.

It’s early evening and you’re sat in the living room with Johnny and Kyle when John appears in the doorway. Something about the way he looks makes your stomach sink, you feel sick, nerves bubble in you as you sit up.

“Can I have a word?” He asks you. You swallow the lump in your throat nodding and getting up to follow him out the room. He offers you his hand before leading you upstairs to the master bedroom. Maybe it’s nothing, maybe he just wants to tell you something he can’t tell the others. Maybe he just wants to have you all to himself for a few hours.

It doesn’t seem like that's the case though, he sighs as you enter the room closing the door behind him. He turns to look at you, his expression has softened, that makes you feel a little bit better. His hands run up your arms landing on your shoulders. He lets out another sigh, fuck , this is going to be bad.

“I told you that we wouldn’t keep secrets. That we - more importantly I would tell you everything we knew as soon as possible. No more secrets.” He says, you nod letting him continue.

“Our job is to protect innocent people, to stop the people who hurt others. Hale is one of them. You will never be safe until we’ve stopped him.” He says, raising an eyebrow to see if you’re listening. You nod again, you’re holding your breath, you don’t like where this is going.

“Kate has a lead for us in America. Me and Simon, we're going to go check it out.” He says. It’s like a stab to the heart. You clench your jaw trying not to let the tears welling behind your eyes escape. His hands squeeze your shoulders, it doesn’t bring you comfort though. You knew this was going to happen, you thought about what you would say to him to try and get him to stay but now you’re hearing it your mind is drawing a blank.

“Why?” It’s such a raw question, it makes you feel guilty for even asking.

"We all want you to be safe, to be able to live a long and happy life. You deserve that, and to get that Hale needs to be gone."

“You don't have to do this John. I would rather spend my life on the run or in hiding then risk losing you. You could die then I would never see you again.” You sob reaching out for his arm. “I could lose you both, it's not worth it I can't- please John please just say you’ll stay.”

He looks sad, you feel your bottom lip quiver, he sighs rubbing his hands down your arms. “I’m sorry. We have to go.” You don’t want them to leave. You can’t hold back the sob rising in your throat, it comes out with tears rolling down your face.

John’s hands move to your face. His thumbs brush your tears away.

“I love you.” You sob. He nods, cupping your face in his hands. He looks like he might be about to cry too his eyes are glossy as he looks down at you.

“I know, I’m doing this because I love you, we all are.” He says. You choke on another sob and turn away from him, you can’t look at him right now. He’s going to leave you alone. You’ve only been back in Scotland for 2 days and now he wants to leave again. Him and Simon. You want to leave crawl up in your nest where its safe. Nothing he says to you will comfort you right now, you push past him heading for the door.

When you open it you look out to see everyone standing around in the hall. They look just as upset, you look over at Simon who’s leaning on the stair railing. He stands up straight when he sees you. Your vision blurs as more tears come, you rush past them Johnny reaches out and grabs your arm. You look up at him feeling guilty all of a sudden, you should be happy they want to go out and kill Hale. Then you’ll all be safe. You pull your arm out his hand ignoring his calls and rush down the stairs.

“Leave her mate. Let's give her some space.” You hear Kyle say before slamming the living room door closed behind you. You climb over the bedding, the space you all spent the last two days lounging in. Between the cuddling and the sex, the whole place was starting to feel like an extension of your nest.

Now it feels empty, lonely, there's nothing more depressing than an empty nest. You crawl over to your nest in the corner laying down and pulling the duvet over your head. You sob until you’re exhausted and drift off to sleep.

…

When you wake your muscles feel stiff. Your body is hot and there's an uncomfortable layer of sweat built up. You open your eyes, you’re facing the wall but you can see the orange and pink hues. You let out a sigh, a second later a hand lands on your arm.

You turn in your nest, you hope it’s anyone but John. You’re not so lucky, he’s there sitting against the wall. You wouldn’t have expected anything less honestly. You start feeling tears again, the pain of knowing he’s going away and Simon too. Going to do something that could get them killed.

“Piper told me that you’re soldiers. That being worried about you getting hurt should be the last thing on my mind.” You say, despite your body feeling like it’s overheating, your throat is raw and dry. “Doesn’t make you invincible.”

“No.” He says. “But it gives us a better chance than most.”

“You could die.” You say choking on the sob. He lets out a long breath, he looks like he wants to reach out and touch you instead he turns and lays down parallel to you. You look behind him, the room is empty. Maybe he sent everyone away so he could be alone with you.

“It’s only surveillance. We need to watch them, make sure the information we have is good.” He says.

“Can’t Kate do that?”

“She’s not working for us. She has other jobs to do, we don’t know how deep Hale’s presence is. If Kate stops what she’s doing it could alert him.” He explains, you nod. He’s right, you know it has to be him. Who else would it be, even if he does agree to stay he would always be watching over his shoulder.

Honestly you would be too. You’re never going to be able to fully relax knowing he is still out there looking for you. You sigh, squeezing your sore eyes closed feeling fresh tears come. You shuffle back in your nest until your back hits the wall. You pull the duvet back nodding at him to get into your nest with you.

He hesitates for a second before slowly shuffling in and wrapping his arms around you. You close your eyes, breathing him in as he kisses you on your forehead.

“I love you, you and Simon. I’m so scared about losing you both.” You say. He hums squeezing you tighter.

“I love you too. We’ll be safe, it’s just surveillance. There’s a good chance Hale won’t even know we’re there.” He says, you pull your head off his chest and look up at him. He smiles at you, his hand comes from your waist to hold your face. His thumb gently brushes away the tears still escaping from your raw face.

“Thank you for doing this. Making the room like one big nest.” You smile, he leans in to kiss you. You press yourself up against him running your hands up his chest. He feels familiar under your hands, solid and safe. You can’t imagine him getting hurt, getting shot.

Piper’s right you shouldn’t be worried, even if they were to get shot chances are they’ll be fine. They’re alphas, they’re stronger, they heal quicker and they have each other. That's the most important thing, they have each other. Your hand stops on a scar on his chest and you break from the kiss.

“What happened?” You ask, running your fingers over it.

“Shrapnel, Iraq.” He says you look down at your hand under his shirt moving your hand past the scar until you land on another one. You look back up at him.

“Bullet, Urzikstan.” For some reason that makes you feel better. You’ve been shot, he’s been shot probably more than once. You reach up to kiss him, moving your hand over to rest on the center of his chest so you can feel his heartbeat. The door to the room opens and you break from the kiss, you look over seeing Johnny smiling at you with a mug in his hands.

“Tea?” He asks, holding it up. John turns to see him and you nod. You sit up and John follows. You look around the room, this is how you always imagined pack nests would be. A room of comfort with space for you to all be together.

You crawl over John meeting Johnny half way before he kneels down passing you the mug. John comes up next to you wrapping his arms around you and pulling you back to lean against him. You hum sipping the warm sweet tea. Johnny sits next to you rubbing your thigh.

For a few seconds no one says anything. You enjoy the warm tea and their hands on you.

“Where are Simon and Kyle?” You ask.

“Shopping.” Johnny says as he reaches over to grab the remote and turn the TV on. It’s not long before you find yourself switching to lean up against Johnny as you sip on your tea. He wraps his arm around your shoulders reaching over to run his hand up the back of John's head.

His other hand starts to run up your thigh. You’re only wearing John’s oversized shirt and underwear. He looks like he’s still invested in what’s happening on the TV. John sees what's happening though, his mouth kissing your temple and pressing one of hands on your stomach.

You can’t pay attention to the TV while they touch you like this, Johnny's hand is still lazily rubbing your thigh, his hand brushing closer and closer to your pussy. Your eyes are fixed on his hand, you part your legs slightly letting out a breath as John’s hand travels up your top. John takes the mug out your hand, placing it on the end table.

He kisses your neck and you relax back against him, his hand makes it to your breast and he brushes his thumb over your nipple. You moan and Johnny turns to look at you with John’s mouth in your neck and his hand up your top playing with your breasts. His eyes light up and you smile at him spreading your legs.

He smiles back, turning to slip between your legs, he hooks his arms under your knees throwing them over his shoulders. You squirm as he runs his tongue up your thigh, pressing little kisses until he gets to your underwear. You can’t move to shuffle them off; he has your legs thrown over his shoulders, picking your ass slightly pulled off the ground.

It doesn’t matter though because a second later his hands rip the fabric exposing your dripping cunt to the warm air in the room.

“Johnny!” You call, John tuts before his hands go back to your tits. Johnny doesn’t take his eyes off your pussy, wetting his lips.

“Sorry.” He says before pressing his tongue on your clit. Fuck, he’s eating you out like a man starved. His fingers dig into your hips as his tongue circles your clit pressing down hard and making you shudder with each drag. You moan out reaching down with one of your hands to grip his hair. John hums in your neck, his thumbs are still brushing your nipples sending vibrations down your body.

“Hum. Is he making you feel good?” John asks in your ear. His voice rumbles as he plays with your breasts, running his hands over your nipples.

“Yes.” You breathe, squirming in Johnny’s grip, his hands grip your waist, his tongue doesn’t stop rubbing tight circles moaning around you making you shiver. John’s tongue runs up your neck, he sucks on the sensitive parts as he pinches your nipples. Johnny’s tongue is relentless, he hasn’t slowed down for a second. You’re not sure where he gets all the energy from, it feels like he can and will go for hours if he was left to his own devices.

“Johnny.” You call trying not to squeeze your thighs around his head. John’s lips leave your neck and you pull on Johnny’s hair as you cum. He doesn’t stop though, riding you through the orgasm, you pant crying out until your legs start to shake.

Then his head comes up from between your legs, he smiles at you with a cheeky look in his eyes dropping your legs from his shoulders. He props himself up leaning in like he’s about to kiss you but instead he reaches up to John kissing him instead. John moans as their lips smack together, Johnny breaks from the kiss looking over at you licking his lips.

“Tastes better from the source.” Johnny says, John tuts and shakes his head. Johnny's hand works its way back down to your clit. “C’mon Cap, she’s so fuckin’ sweet.” John sighs and shuffles, you turn to look up at him and he smiles. You lean forward letting Johnny scoot up next to you and you lean against him as John takes his place between your legs.

John feels familiar between your legs, he’s slow unlike Johnny, taking his time to kiss up your thighs. His beard tickles your skin, it makes vibrations travel up your legs. You feel his hot breath on your already soaked pussy. He lets out a long breath, getting comfortable before pressing his tongue through your folds.

You moan and Johnny's hand hikes your top up to reveal one of your breasts locking his mouth around the nipple. You’re so sensitive, you have to clench your thighs around John’s head. It makes him moan and you tip your head back running your hand through John's hair.

You pant John’s name as you cum again throbbing in his mouth. Johnny’s mouth comes off your nipple and he lets your top fall back down.

“Perfect, love.” Johnny says before he kisses you. You feel John coming up from your legs his fingers brushing over your sensitive clit causing you to twitch, you break away from the kiss as John comes back up to sit next to you pulling you into his arms against his chest.

“Our perfect omega.” John says squeezing you tight and pressing a kiss on your neck. You blush sucking in deep breaths as your heart hammers in your chest.

“Johnny, go get her some new underwear.” John says, nudging him with his foot. Johnny nods, standing up and adjusting himself in shorts before leaving the room. You relax against John looking over at the TV as John hums into your neck, running his hands over your body.

“I’m going to miss you.” You say.

“I’m right here, love.” He sighs. “I know, I’m going to miss you too, so much.”

“Promise me you won’t go after him. You said you’re just observing him right?” You turn in his arms so you can look in his eyes. “Promise me John, you and Simon will stay safe.”

He hesitates pressing his lips together.

“I promise.” he says. You believe him, you reach up and kiss him.

It’s raining. The weather fits the mood. You've been here just over a week and it's the first time it's rained.

They took the bedding and mattresses out of the living room yesterday and put them all back on the beds. You ended up crawling into the masterbed with John and Simon joined you halfway through the night. Even then it felt like it wasn’t enough time.

You can see the sun coming through the curtains, John is gone so you turn over in the bed. You expect Simon to be gone too but he’s not, he's there and he’s awake staring at you. He’s smiling but all you can think about is the fact that they’re leaving today. You shuffle over to him, wrapping your arms around him.

He kisses the top of your head and you try really hard to not get upset. He hums, breathing you in as you listen to the rain outside and the sound of his heartbeat.

“I’m going to miss you.” You say after a few minutes of silence.

“I know. I’m going to miss you too.” He says. It doesn’t help, it's not enough.

“You could always stay.” You say, you're half joking but you feel him react to it and you turn to look up at him. He sighs before leaning down to kiss you. You kiss him back, long and needy, you never want his lips to leave you.

“We will be back. We’ll only be gone a month at least.” He says.

“A month is a long time.” You say. He smiles rubbing your cheek.

“It’ll feel like no time at all I promise.” He says, you smile.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I know.” He says. He swings his legs out the bed and starts to get up. You follow him, you want to be close to them, you want to spend as much of the day with him and John as you can. You follow Simon down to the kitchen where everyone else is waiting, John is sat on the island with his back to the door. You walk over to him and throw your arms around him.

“Hey.” He says putting his mug down, his hands coming to land on yours. You press your nose into his neck breathing him in.

“What do you want to do today?” Kyle asks sipping on his mug.

“Take it easy. Enjoy the last few hours of peace.” John says. He squeezes your hand. “Is there anything you want to do?” You're not sure if he’s asking you but no one answers so you shake your head.

“Taking it easy sounds good.” You agree, smiling.

...

Kate arrives just after midday.

You know it’s time when the doorbell rings but no one moves. It’s just like a weird silence falls over the room. Johnny who’s sat between Simon’s legs is the first to move, getting up and heading out the room. John sighs and you take it as your cue to sit up. He stands up and offers you his hand, you reluctantly take it.

When you make it out into the hall, Simon is zipping his coat talking with Johnny and Kyle is outside with Kate. At least it’s stopped raining, you look out and Kate catches your eyes smiling at you. She reminds you of Piper, maybe it’s the blonde hair. Maybe it’s the way they both carry themselves, like they know what they're doing and they can command a room, even with big burly men.

John drops your hand reaching over for his coat and shrugs it on while Johnny helps Simon with the bags. The bags are small for them only going a way for a month, maybe they’ll be back sooner than you think

John’s hand comes to your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. You can’t stop the tears, you don’t even try.

“It’s going to be okay, we’ll keep in touch.” John says, you look up at him and nod. You wanted to stay strong for them but you can’t. You let out a sob before throwing your arms around him, he hugs you back running his hands up your back.

“I’m going to miss you.” You say, your voice muffled pressed into his chest. You project your scent for him, he breathes it in and kisses the top of your head. He presses your shoulders back so you can look up at him.

“I love you.” He pauses, tipping his head slightly and brushing a tear away. “I love you so much.” You nod at him and he leans down to kiss you. You press your lips to him as hard as you can, you never want it to end. Then you feel a hand on your shoulder and you break from the kiss.

You turn to see Simon standing behind you, before he can say anything your lip quivers and you throw your arms around him. He strokes your head as you let out a sob on his chest.

“We’ll be back before you know it. A month isn’t that long.” You break from the hug. He smiles at you and it just makes you want to cry again. He reaches down to kiss you, this time he kisses you slowly, making sure his lips and tongue linger for as long as possible. There's another hand on the top of your back.

“I love you.” You say to him, he smiles and it hurts. It feels like there’s a pain in your chest, it hurts that they’re leaving you. It’s only for a month - 30 days then they’ll be back, but they could get hurt. Johnny and Kyle come up behind you, Kyle grabs your arm gently pulling you back. Johnny’s hand rubs your back.

“Call us when you land?” Kyle asks. John nods and gets into the front seat of the car.

“You better not have all the fun without us.” Johnny says as you all step back from the car.

“It’s not a holiday Johnny.” Simon says as he gets into the back of the car. The engine starts and you all keep stepping back, you look in the wing mirror to see John looking back at you. You smile at him and watch as they drive off. You stay there until the car turns out of view at the top of the drive.

“C’mon, it’s nice and warm inside. I’ll make you a hot chocolate.” Johnny says. You sniff, clearing your nose and turn to look at them. Kyle reaches down and takes your hand lacing his fingers with yours.

“I’ve never had hot chocolate before.” You say forcing a smile. Johnny smiles excitedly, patting your shoulder and walking ahead to the front door. Kyle squeezes your hand.

“Don’t worry, we’ll speak to them in a few hours.” Kyle says, you nod walking back into the house with him.

Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui

74 notes · View notes

sillylilsquid · 3 days ago

Text

almost, always

pairing - hyun-ju x reader summary - after everything fell apart, you and hyun-ju keep finding excuses to stay in each other's lives. some loves don't end cleanly. some loves find a way back, even when they shouldn't. warnings - au!hyun-ju, afab!reader, angsty angst, brief sexual content, pre-bottom surgery hyun-ju. 18+, minors dni! 5.2k words

It was always the little things that piled up first. The unanswered texts. The late nights you spent waiting, wondering if she forgot, if she cared, if she was just tired or if it was you.

The arguments that started small and stupid–where to eat, what time to meet–and ended with slammed doors and swallowed apologies.

“You never take anything seriously,” she said once, standing in the kitchen, arms crossed so tight you thought she might snap in half.

You laughed–sharp, defensive. “It’s not that serious, Hyun-ju. It’s just dinner.”

But it was never just dinner. It was never just one thing.

It was the thousand tiny disappointments that neither of you knew how to voice until they turned into something ugly.

It was her needing structure, needing something solid to hold onto–and you needing something a little freer, a little softer, something she couldn’t give without breaking herself apart.

It was both of you pretending you could fix it, even when you knew you couldn’t.

Until one night, after one too many fights, one too many wrong words, she said, quietly, almost kindly: “I can’t take care of both of us anymore.”

You didn’t fight her. You just stood there and let her walk away.

Present

It’s been six months since you broke up. Six months of pretending you don’t think about her every time you pass a cafe she liked. Six months of telling yourself you’re better off, even though every bone in your body knows you’re lying.

So when your kitchen light goes out–and the broken stool in your closet mocks you–you do the stupidest thing you could possibly do.

You text her.

hey. can you help me? my light’s out and i can’t reach it

It’s pathetic. You know it is. You stare at the message, thumb hovering over the screen, heart pounding. You almost delete it. But before you can, the typing bubble pops up.

Hyunnie omw.

Three letters. No hesitation. Just like that, you’re right back where you started. Waiting for her.

You don’t have to wait for long.

Fifteen minutes, maybe less, before you hear the soft knock at the door–the same rhythm she always used. Three quick taps. One long one.

You hesitate with your hand on the doorknob. Some stupid, stubborn part of you still thinks: if I don’t open it, maybe I won’t have to feel all of it.

But you open it anyway.

And there she is.

Hyun-ju, standing in your hallway like no time has passed at all. Black sweater, faded jeans, keys hooked on her thumb. Tall and steady in the way you never learned how to be.

Her eyes flick over you–taking you in, checking for damage you’re not sure you even show–and then she smiles.

Small. Careful. Like if she gives too much away, you’ll both fall apart.

“Hey,” she says softly.

“Hey,” you manage, voice catching in your throat.

You step back to let her in. She kicks off her shoes without being asked, setting them neatly by the door–because of course she remembers how you hated when she used to track dirt across your floors.

The apartment feels too small with her in it.

Or maybe it just feels too full–with everything you’re trying not to say.

You point toward the kitchen lamely. “It’s the light in there. I can’t reach it.”

Hyun-ju nods, already moving. Efficient and calm. Like she didn’t once rip your heart out with her bare hands.

She grabs the chair from your table without a word, balancing carefully as she reaches up. You stand back, watching her–the stretch of her body, steady confidence of her hands, the way her brows furrow slightly in concentration.

Your throat tightens.

It’s stupid. It’s just a lightbulb.

But once, it would’ve been your how she was fixing. Your broken things she was trying to make better.

Now it’s just…charity.

She steps down lightly, flipping the switch. The kitchen floods with warm light. “There,” she says, wiping her hands on her jeans. “Good as new.”

You smile weakly. “Thanks.”

Silence stretches. You wonder if she can hear your heart beating through the walls.

She clears her throat, rocking back on her heels. “You doing okay?”

Same question as last time. Same lie waiting on your tongue.

“Yeah,” you say, forcing a smile. “Fine.”

And for a second–just a second–you think she might call you on it. Might reach for you like she used to.

But she just nods. Tight. Careful.

“Good,” she says, too quietly.

You walk her to the door even though she doesn’t need help. Even though you don’t want her to leave. She hesitates at the threshold. And so do you.

But nothing happens. No apology. No confession. No miracle.

Just two people still too close and too far at the same time.

“Text me if you need anything else,” Hyun-ju says, voice low.

You nod, heart splintering. “Yeah. Sure.”

She hesitates like she wants to say something more. But she doesn’t. She just slips out the door, leaving you standing there, holding all the things you’re still too scared to say.

Six months ago

You never meant to fight that night.

You meant to talk. To fix it. To make her see you were trying. But somehow it always ended the same way.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Hyun-ju said, standing in the doorway, arms crossed so tight across her chest you could almost hear the bones creaking under the strain.

You sat on the couch, hands trembling in your lap, staring at the coffee table because looking at her hurt too much.

“It’s not that bad,” you said, voice cracking. “We just had a rough week. That’s all.”

Hyun-ju laughed–sharp and broken. “A rough week? You missed your interview. You forgot about dinner with my parents. You left the gas on in the kitchen.”

You flinched. “I said I was sorry,” you whispered.

“You’re always sorry,” she said, and her voice cracked too, despite everything. “I’m tired of having to pick up the pieces every time you forget how to live.”

You shot to your feet, chest burning. “I never asked you to do that!”

“You didn’t have to!” she snapped. “I love you, you idiot. I loved you enough to try. And you made me feel like I was holding this whole fucking relationship together by myself.”

Silence.

Just the sound of both of you breathing, ragged and uneven.

You stepped forward, desperate. “I can be better.”

She shook her head. Tears glinting in her eyes that she refused to let fall.

“It’s not about being better,” she said, voice small. “It’s about me not wanting to feel like I’m drowning every time I look at you.”

You hated her for saying it. You hated yourself more for knowing it was true. You opened your mouth to argue. To plead. To promise you’d change.

But she was already grabbing her keys. Already putting on her shoes. Already walking out the door.

And you–you just let her. Because you didn’t know how to ask her to stay without hurting her even more.

Now

You don’t talk about that night anymore. You don’t even let yourself think about it if you can help it.

But Hyun-ju still texts sometimes.

When her car won’t start. When she locks herself out. When she needs someone at two in the morning and there’s no one else she trusts to come without asking questions.

You still text her too.

When you burn yourself cooking and need someone to yell at you until you ice it properly. When you get a flat tire and don’t know what the hell to do. When it’s late and you’re lonely and you tell yourself you’re just being practical–not desperate.

Each text feels like stitching yourself back together with thread that’s already frayed.

Temporary. Inevitable.

Neither of you ever says too much.

Never how are you unless something’s wrong. Never I miss you even when it’s obvious. Never I’m sorry even though it hums under everything.

Just these small, bleeding moments of almost-love you both pretend are nothing. You know it’s stupid. You know you’re only hurting yourself.

But you also know: if she texts again, you’ll answer.

Every time.

You pick a quiet place.

Small, tucked away. Half-lit and half-empty, the kind of restaurant where you can pretend you’re not two people who fell apart.

Hyun-ju’s already there when you arrive–sitting at a booth in the back, scrolling absently on her phone.

She looks up when she hears you, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear the way she always did when she was nervous.

Only now–you notice it’s longer.

Falling a little messier over her shoulders. Softer somehow.

“Your hair’s gotten long,” you blurt without thinking as you slide into the seat across from her.

She touches it self consciously, a small smile tugging at her mouth. “Yeah. Guess I got lazy about cutting it.”

“It looks good,” you say, maybe too quickly.

Her smile deepens, a little more real. “Thanks.”

She lets her eyes wander over you for a second, lingering in a way that makes your skin feel too tight.

“You look good too,” she says, quieter. “Healthier. Happier.”

You duck your head, pretending to read the menu even though the words are blurring.

“Trying,” you mumble. And she hums–low and thoughtful, and for a second it almost feels easy. Almost.

Dinner is…easy, at first.

Small talk. Work. The weather. You both pretend this is normal.

You poke at your pasta, your foot brushing hers under the table, and it feels like it used to.

Almost.

And maybe that’s why you say it. Maybe that’s why you finally crack open your ribs and spill it out like it’s something worth offering.

“I’ve gotten better, you know,” you say, trying to sound casual and not desperate.

Hyun-ju looks up, surprised.

You rush on before you can lose your never. “I use the planner you bought me. Every day. I don’t miss appointments anymore. I even set like five alarms so I’m not late for anything.”

You laugh awkwardly, scraping your fork across your plate. “I’m…I’m more responsible now,” you say, quieter. “I’m not the same.”

Hyun-ju’s face softens.

She reaches across the table and squeezes your hand–just once, quick, like she’s afraid of what it might mean if she holds on too long.

“That’s good,” she says, voice warm. “I’m proud.”

And you smile. You smile because you’re supposed to. Because she’s proud of you.

But deep down, it feels like someone’s wringing the air out of your lungs. Because for one stupid, impossible second, you thought maybe–

Maybe if you got better–

Maybe if you fixed all the things she hated–

Maybe she’d come back.

But she just smiles across the table. Kind. Distant. Done.

Proud of you. Not in love with you.

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat, pretending you didn’t just bleed out in front of her. “Yeah,” you say, voice almost steady. “Yeah, it’s good.”

Neither of you says what you’re really thinking. That it’s too late. That getting better doesn’t undo the past. That some bridges don’t burn–they just…fade.

You finish dinner. You laugh at her jokes. You hug goodbye. And when she pulls away, she doesn’t linger. Not like she used to.

Back at your apartment, you stare at your planner–the one she gave you–open on the kitchen counter.

Tomorrow: meetings. Grocery run. Doctor’s appointment.

Everything neatly written out. Everything structured. Everything good.

You’ve gotten better. You really have. But it doesn’t matter. She’s still gone. And you’re still her–mad at yourself for wanting her anyway.

A few weeks later

The texts don’t stop after dinner. If anything, they come more often now.

You send her pictures sometimes–small glimpses into your day. Your coffee in the morning. Your planner spread out across your desk, scribbled full of meetings. Your smile, shy and proud, after hitting the gym for the first time in weeks.

Hyun-ju always answers.

proud of you.

you look good. happy.

And it’s enough to keep you breathing. For a while.

You didn’t mean to send the next text. Not really.

You’re just feeling reckless one night–buzzed off loneliness and one too many glasses of wine.

Your skin warm. Your heart stupid.

You take a few more photos. First one, smiling at the mirror, hairy messy, t-shirt too big. Second one, slipping the t-shirt off one shoulder, baring skin you know she used to worship. Third one, lower, suggestive, soft and a little desperate even though you don’t say anything.

You hit send without thinking. And immediately regret it.

She doesn’t reply. Not right away. You spend an hour lying on the floor staring at your phone, heart pounding, stomach flipping.

Finally, the screen lights up. Incoming call. Hyunnie.

You answer without thinking, “Hey,” you breathe.

She doesn’t answer for a second. When she does, her voice is wrecked. “We have to stop this.”

You sit up too fast, panic slicing through you. “What?”

“We can’t keep talking like this,” she says, a little steadier. “It’s not fair. To either of us.”

Your throat tightens. “Please don’t–”

“I can’t…” She exhales sharply, and you can hear her struggling with it. “I can’t keep pretending I’m okay. I can’t keep pretending I don’t want to come over there every time you send me something like that.”

Tears sting in your eyes, hot and fast. “I’ll stop,” you whisper desperately. “I’ll be good. Just–don’t leave.”

Silence hums across the line.

“I promised myself,” she says, voice breaking, “I promised myself I’d take care of me this time.”

You press your fist to your mouth, trying to stay quiet, but a choked sob slips through.

And that’s what does it. That’s what breaks her. “I–shit,” she mutters. “I’m coming over.”

The line goes dead.

You’re still curled on the couch, wearing the same stupid oversized shirt, wiping tears off your cheeks with the sleeves, when you hear the knock at the door.

Soft. Three quick taps. One long one.

Hyun-ju stands there–messy, breathless, soaked from the light drizzle outside, looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world she ever learned how to love.

Neither of you says anything. You just launch yourself at her.

She catches you easily, arms wrapping around you so tight you can barely breathe–but you don’t care.

You press your face into her neck, inhaling the scent of rain and sweat and regret.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper against her skin.

“No,” she says fiercely, pulling you closer. “I’m sorry.”

She presses a kiss to the top of your head. Another to your forehead. Another to your trembling mouth.

It’s not careful. It’s not clean. It’s messy and hungry and wrong.

But you let her kiss you. And you kiss her back. Because neither of you ever learned how to let go properly. And maybe you never will.

Hyun-ju kisses you like she’s drowning.

Like she thinks if she stops, she’ll realize how stupid this is–how doomed you both are–but she can’t stop. Her hands are shaking where they grip your hips, holding you close like she’s terrified you’ll disappear.

You break apart for a second, gasping.

“This is a bad idea,” she says, voice low, wrecked, forehead pressed against yours.

You nod, heart hammering against your ribs. “I know.”

Her fingers trail up your arms, ghost-light, hesitant. “We shouldn’t,” she breathes against your lips.

“You can stop,” you whisper back. “If you want.”

You feel her shudder. But she doesn’t stop.

She leans in again–slower this time–mouth brushing yours so lightly you could almost pretend you imagined it. Another kiss. And another. Each one a little deeper. A little more desperate.

Her hands move like she’s afraid to touch you and terrified not to.

She presses you back into the couch, following you down, the weight of her body so familiar it makes your chest ache.

You arch into her, fingers threading through her damp hair, pulling her closer, and she groans–wrecked–into your mouth.

“I’m supposed to be stronger than this,” she says, voice cracking.

“You are,” you whisper, thumbing over her cheekbone. “You are.”

Another kiss. Harder. Rougher.

Her hips slot between yours, and you gasp, feeling the heat of her, the way she’s already trembling.

“Tell me to stop,” she pleads, breathless.

You cup her face, forcing her to look at you. “I won’t,” you say softly. “I want this.”

Her eyes slam shut. Her forehead drops to your shoulder.

And then she’s moving.

Sliding her hands under your shirt. Mapping the skin she used to know by heart. Kissing her way down your throat, across your collarbone, dragging her teeth lighty where she knows it’ll make you shiver.

Clothes fall away, messy, half-forgotten on the floor.

And the whole time–

The whole aching time–

She keeps whispering, “We shouldn’t be doing this,” even as she presses deeper into you, even as her hands roam desperate and frantic over your body.

You arch against her, moaning softly, and she curses under her breath, breaking apart at the seams.

“Hyun-ju,” you whisper, guiding her hand lower. “Please.”

It’s the please that shatters her. She sinks into you like gravity gave up, mouth finding yours again, kissing you slow and deep and broken.

When she finally pushes inside you–slow, careful, trembling–you both gasp at the same time. And it’s not rough. It’s not quick. It’s aching.

Like she’s trying to memorize the shape of you. Like she knows it’s the last time she’ll get to have this.

You clutch at her, nails digging into her shoulders, pulling her closer, closer, closer.

And she gives you everything. Every broken piece. Every unfinished sentence. Every fucking thing she spent months trying to bury.

You come undone together–messy, desperate, whispering each other’s names like prayers neither of you believe in anymore.

She doesn’t pull away immediately. She just rests her forehead against yours, both of you trembling, both of you too full of regret and relief and sadness to move.

“We’re so stupid,” she whispers hoarsely.

You close your eyes, feeling tears prick. “I know,” you say. But you don’t let go. And neither does she.

The room is dark now. The rain tapping against the windows is the only sound.

You’re lying in Hyun-ju’s arms, both you stripped down to nothing, skin cooling where it was just burning minutes ago.

Sheets tangled around your legs. Your head tucked into the curve of her neck. She’s holding you too tight, like she’s scared you’ll disappear if she lets go.

You keep your breathing slow. Even. Pretending you’re asleep. You’re not. You’re so awake it hurts.

You feel her shift slightly, her hand brushing gently up and down your back, so light it barely feels real.

And then you hear it. Her raw voice, low, barely a whisper into the darkness: “Fuck,” she mutters. “I miss you.”

You stay perfectly still. Hyun-ju exhales shakily, pressing her nose into your hair.

“These past six months…they’ve been hell.”

Her fingers tighten on your hip, grounding herself. Or maybe holding herself back.

“I tried,” she breathes. “I tried seeing other people. I tried moving on.”

Another shaky breath. “But fuck…you’re always on my mind.”

You close your eyes tighter, tears pricking at the corners. “I’m so stupid,” she whispers. “We can’t do this. I can’t hurt myself again.”

Her voice cracks on the last word. “I can’t hurt you again.”

You want to turn around. You want to tell her you’re awake. You want to tell her you don’t care–that you’d let her break you a hundred times if it meant feeling like this for even one more second.

But you stay still. Frozen in place between what you want and what you know you can’t have. Hyun-ju presses a soft, broken kiss into your hair.

And then, quieter than before, “I love you.”

It’s not loud. It’s not for you to hear. But you hear it anyway. And it shatters you.

You wake up first. For a few minutes, you just lie there–watching the way Hyun-ju’s chest rises and falls, the way her hands curl instinctively against your hip like she’s still holding onto you in her sleep.

You wonder if she dreams about you. Or if you’re just another bad habit she can’t kick.

When she stirs, blinking awake slowly, the first thing she does is pull you closer, pressing her forehead to your shoulder.

Neither of you says anything.

The air is thick. Too heavy with everything you can’t take back.

Eventually, she pulls away, sitting up slowly, rubbing her face with her hands like she’s trying to scrub away the night. You sit too.

Both of you fully dressed now, standing awkwardly near the door, pretending this isn’t the worst thing you’ve ever done.

Hyun-ju grabs her jacket. Hesitates.

You reach for the doorknob but don’t turn it.

You glance at her–at the way her jaw clenches, the way her hands twitch at her sides like she wants to reach for you but knows she shouldn’t.

It would be so easy. One more kiss. One more excuse.

But she steps back. Gives you space. And somehow, that hurts worse than anything else.

“I’ll see you around,” she says softly.

You nod. “Yeah.”

She leaves without looking back. You close the door behind her and lean against it, pressing your forehead to the cool wood, trying not to cry.

A few days later you text her.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Nothing serious. Just hey and how are you and you left your jacket here.

Left on read. Every time. You tell yourself to stop.

You don’t. You just keep staring at your phone like if you hope hard enough, maybe it’ll light up. Maybe she’ll come back. Maybe this time it’ll be different.

Four days later. Almost a week. Finally.

Hyunnie: can we meet up

Your heart stutters. You don’t even think, you just reply. Where?

Hyunnie: my place

You knock once. The door swings open almost immediately.

She’s standing there, hair messy, eyes dark, wearing that same oversized hoodie you always loved. For a second, neither of you moves.

Then she’s pulling you inside, slamming the door shut behind you, kissing you like she’s been starving without you.

The clothes fall away faster this time. It’s rougher. Less careful. More desperate.

Hands grabbing, mouths bruising, bodies colliding like you’re both trying to tear something out of yourselves.

You lose yourself in her–the way she gasps when you bite her lip. The way her hands tremble when she pushes inside you. The way she says your name like it’s the only thing tethering her to earth.

You come undone together again, messier this time, more broken.

But when you’re lying tangled in her sheets afterward, skin still buzzing, you can’t stay quiet anymore.

You trace slow circles into her arm, your voice barely above a whisper, “If you just…if you just want sex…” you trail off, swallowing hard. “I’m fine with that. I just…I just want to know you. Even if it’s only like this.”

Hyun-ju stiffens under your touch. You keep going–because you have to.

“I’ll take whatever you can give,” you say, blinking back tears “Even if it’s just…being your hookup.”

The silence after that is deafening. You can feel her breathing change–sharp and uneven. She pulls away slightly, just enough to see your face. Her own face crumples–like she’s breaking in front of you. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, voice wrecked. “I never wanted to make you feel like that.”

You shake your head, trying to smile. Trying to make it easier for her. “It’s fine,” you lie. “Really. I just…I don’t want to lose you.”

Hyun-ju cups your face in her hands, pressing her forehead to yours. “You were never just sex to me,” she said with a shaky voice. “Never.”

But she doesn’t promise anything more. And you don’t ask her to. Because you already know how this ends. And you’re still choosing her anyway.

You try to stay. You really do.

You lie still in Hyun-ju’s bed, your face tucked against her bare shoulder, breathing in the warmth of her skin like you can memorize it. Like you can make it last.

But you can't.

You can feel it–the ache growing heavier by the second. The way her arm around your waist isn’t tight enough. The way she shifts in her sleep, turning slightly away from you. The way everything between you feels unfinished and unsaid and already slipping away.

You stare at the ceiling for a long time. The digital clock on her nightstand glows red.

3:17 AM.

You peel the blanket back slowly, careful not to wake her. You sit up, pulling your shirt over your head, slipping your jeans back on with shaking hands.

You glance back once. She’s still sleeping. Peaceful. Beautiful. So far away.

You want to crawl back into bed. You want to stay. You want to believe that this time will be different. But it won’t be. You know that now.

So you slip out the door. You don’t leave a note. You don’t send a text. You just walk down the empty hallway, out into the cold, and let the night swallow you whole.

You curl up on your couch, pulling your knees to your chest, burying your face in your hands.

And you cry.

Not the pretty, cinematic kind of crying. The ugly, gasping kind–the kind that shakes your whole body and leaves you feeling hollow afterward.

You cry because you love her. You cry because she loves you too, but not enough. You cry because some part of you still thinks if you were just better, different, more, she’d stay.

But you know the truth. You could become everything she ever wanted. And it still wouldn’t be enough to erase the cracks that already splintered you both apart.

You fall asleep on the couch, tear stained and shivering, clutching your phone like it might save you. It doesn’t buzz. She doesn’t call. And you don’t know if that makes it better or worse.

It’s been three days since you left her bed in the middle of the night. You haven’t texted. You’re halfway through convincing yourself she’s moved on–again–when your phone buzzes.

Hyunnie: dinner tomorrow night? 7pm. i made a reservation. wear something nice.

Your stomach flips so hard it makes you dizzy. You typed out a hundred different replies. You settle on one word. Ok.

The place is beautiful. Dim lighting. Crisp white tablecloths. Waiters in black ties gliding between tables like something out of a dream.

You set out of the taxi feeling underdressed even in your nicest dress. Your hands shake a little as you walk through the doors.

And there she is.

Hyun-ju–waiting just inside. Hair sleek, dark red dress perfectly fitted, holding a small bouquet of white roses.

When she sees you, she smiles–wide, real, shy–the kind of smile that used to be just for you.

Your breath catches. She steps forward, offering you the flowers without a word. You take them, fingers brushing hers.

“Hi,” you mumble.

“Hi,” she says back, softer.

And somehow, the world tilts back into place.

She pulls your chair out for you like a gentleman, brushing her hand along your waist as you sit. You’re too stunned to say anything.

She orders a bottle of wine–something expensive, judging by the look the waiter gives her–and glances at you across the table like she’s memorizing your face.

You don’t ask why. You just let it happen.

The food is perfect. The wine is better. The conversation is easy in a way you forgot it could be.

She tells you about her work. You tell her about your little wins lately–showing up, staying steady, building a life piece by piece.

She listens like every word you say matters.

When the dessert comes–some fancy chocolate cake with fresh berries–she doesn’t even ask. She just grabs two spoons and slides one across the table to you, smiling that soft, crooked smile that makes your heart hurt.

You laugh under your breath and dig in, bumping her foot under the table accidentally–and not moving it away. Neither does she.

The check comes. She waves it away without looking. The waiter retreats, and for a long second, it’s just you and her, the candles between you flickering.

Hyun-ju clears her throat. “I’ve been thinking,” she says, voice rough, like the words are stuck in her chest. “About us.”

You hold your breath.

“I miss you. Not just the…easy parts. I miss everything.” You blink, hands tightening around your napkin.

“I thought I had to let you go,” she says quietly. “I thought…that was the right thing. For both of us.”

A pause. A breath.

Her eyes lock on yours.

“But I don’t want to live the rest of my life wondering if we could've gotten it right.”

Your heart slams so hard you feel it in your fingertips.

“I want to try again,” her voice is steady now. “I want us.”

The room blurs at the edges. You’re not sure if you’re breathing. But your voice is calm when you answer in a whisper, “Yeah. I want us too.”

And when she reaches across the table to lace her fingers through yours–this time, you don’t hesitate.

You hold on. Tight. Like you’ll never let go again.

The night air is cool when you step outside the restaurant. The streetlights buzz softly overhead, the city humming around you–but it feels like you’re moving through a world made just for the two of you.

Hyun-ju slips her hand into yours without asking. You squeeze her fingers, and she squeezes back.

You walk slowly, no destination in mind, just soaking it all in–the warmth of her hand, the quiet rhythm of her footsteps next to yours.

It feels fragile. It feels real.

You pass a little park, empty this late at night. The fountain glitters under the streetlamps, tossing little shards of silver across the pavement.

Hyun-ju tugs you toward it, grinning shyly. You let her.

At the edge of the fountain, she stops, turning to face you, her free hand brushing a loose strand of hair from your face.

“You’re beautiful,” she says quietly.

You flush, ducking your head. “You’re just saying that because you fed me three courses of fancy food.”

She laughs, a real laugh, the sound curling around your heart. “I’m saying it because it’s true.”

You meet her eyes–steady, calm. For a moment, neither of you moves. And then she leans in.

Not rushed. Not desperate. Just soft.

Her lips brush yours–gentle, slow, careful like she’s relearning you piece by piece. You kiss her back, arms sliding around her neck, pulling her closer until there’s no space left between you.

When you finally pull away, she presses her forehead to yours, breathing you in.

“I’m not perfect,” she whispers. “I’m gonna fuck up sometimes.”

You smile, thumb stroking her jaw. “Me too.”

“But I’m staying this time,” she says, voice shaking a little. “I’m staying.”

You nod, tears pricking at your eyes, but you laugh through it. “Good,” you whisper. “Because I'm not letting you go again.”

Hyun-ju kisses you again–longer this time–and you let the city blur around you, let the world fall away.

Because for the first time in a long time, it feels like the two of you are finally standing still. Finally choosing each other. Not because you’re scared. But because you’re ready. Together. This time for real.

#squid game #squid game x y/n #alternate universe #cho hyun ju x reader #hyun ju #hyun ju x reader #cho hyun ju #player 120 #player 120 x reader #squid game season 2 #player 120 squid game #cho hyun ju smut

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deangirlsstuff67 · 3 days ago

Text

Oops… Wrong Number- Part 2

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Summary: Who knew texting the wrong number could be so much fun !

Warnings: Fluffy Jensen, drinking, sexual build up slightly

Authors Note: I love Jensen and his family. This is purely fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Short but sweet!

Catch up here.

—————————————————————————

“I’m sorry, you accidentally text who?!”

It had been a solid week since you mistakenly saved your best friends number wrong in your phone. Later that night you had Facebook messaged her asking for it again. After talking with her and Jensen for a week straight you made the decision to go visit Texas.

Not like you had a reason to stay in a city where you know barely anyone. You’re a writer, you can do your job anywhere which is nice.

Change of scenery might be everything you need.

So here you sit, on her back porch sharing a beer and catching up with her. Just like old times. She has always been your person, the one you call when things are good or when they are completely falling apart. Y/f/n has always been supportive, but it doesn't come without her own opinions and thoughts being laced into it.

You're an adult and she respects that, I am however famous for making dumbass choices in life... especially my love life.

“Caught me completely off guard. Out of all the numbers, his was the one I typed in instead of yours.” Shaking your head, you still don’t believe it. You’ve never been close to that lucky before.

What she doesn't know is that you are still talking to Jensen. While you want to do nothing more than brag about talking to your celebrity crush or tell her how he can always make you smile or laugh when you want to cry, you neither want to lose his trust and you don't think she would approve of the age difference in anyway.

You've kind of been the girl who goes for the older men. They haven't worked out obviously, Jensen happens to be the oldest man you've ever showed interest in. Though until a week ago you never did think you'd get the chance to meet him, let alone text him, yet here you are.

Man my life is fucking weird.

She goes back inside mumbling to herself about how she needs some of my luck. You softly chuckle staring out into the big beautiful Texan sky.

Ding.

Jensen: Did you land safely sweetheart?

Naturally the smile spreads across your face as you read his message. It's cute that he checks in on you. You are a no body in his world, literally a woman who accidently text him one night. Somehow, and you aren't sure how, you both have gotten comfortable exchanging messages daily and just talking about everyday life.

Jensen has slowly borrowed his way into your heart. You wouldn't even say it was in a romantic way. Would you love a chance to have this beautiful man take you out and sweep you off your feet, well duh! Who the hell wouldn't. It goes deeper than that though. He has become a good friend. Someone who you want to talk to and tell the most boring daily details.

There isn't many people in my life that I feel that strongely towards.

Me: I did. Enjoying a beer on her back deck absorbing what Austin has to offer.

Jensen: Seriously? Austin?

Me: Yeah I know right. This getting creepy for you yet?

Jensen: Haha no it hasn't Darling. I'm actually kind of excitied about it.

Me: Oh really? Do tell please.

Jensen: Oh I don't know I have this beautiful woman who I enjoy talking to visiting the wonderful city I live in and I happen to be home for the summer. I don't know about you but this sounds like an opportunity ;)

Me: She sounds pretty amazing, you're pretty lucky!

Jensen: Smartass

Your friend comes back out with a fresh beer for you both, sitting down beside you again. Neither of you speak, enjoying the silence and beauty in front of you.

Me: Yes I am! Stick around, it gets worse honey.

Jensen: I like it. So what are you ladies going to do tonight?

Me: Nothing special. Staying in, she has to work tomorrow. I'll be on my own adventuring I guess.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The night went on, you watched the sun set over the hills behind her house. Eventually she wondered to bed after a night of laughs, smiles, and hearing how her first week has been with work and living in a new state.

Between her and Jensen, the urge to move to this amazing place is getting worse by the minute.

Jensen: So you are all alone now?

Me: Kind of, she's in bed for the night. I am still running on the high of being here. Once upon a time I wanted to live here... still kind of do.

Jensen: Why didn't you?

Me: Life got in the way and took me in a different direction at the time.

Jensen: That ex who left you for his best friend?

Me: Life's a bitch I guess.

Jensen: Nah sweetheart, life is wonderful and full of surprises and adventures, look at you and I. That was nothing short of both a surprise and an adventure. Your ex boyfriend is a bitch.

Me: Won't hear me agrue that point. Can I ask something that might freak you out?

Jensen: Sure... I'm scared.

You take a huge sip of your beer before you ask your question. Liqour courage for the win.

Me: There is like a 12 year age difference between you and I.

Jensen: That's more of a statement than a question darling.

Me: Now who's the smartass?

Jensen: Guilty! Stick around sweetheart, I get better ;)

Shaking your head as you read the words you voiced to him already. Those three dots appear again.

Jensen: To answer what I'm guessing is your question, no I don't have a problem with it. I enjoy your company and considering you are still texting my old ass I'm guessing you enjoy mine. In the end that's all that matters.

Me: Oh did I forget to tell you, your mom is paying me to be your friend Jay ;)

Jensen: Keep it up and I'll have find other ways to occupy that mouth sweetheart.

Me: Haha bring it on old man.

Jensen: Brat.

Me: Me? No.

Jensen: Jesus christ woman. Does it bother you?

Me: Being a brat, no I like it alot actually ;)

Jensen: I'm warning you!

Me: Gotta find me first handsome hehe.

Me: No, it doesn't bother me. You're my type actually.

Jensen: Oh?

Me: Green eyes, tall, texan, southern drawl, can act, can sing, plays guitar, and legs meant to be wrapped around a horse... yeah definitely my type.

Jensen: And the age thing?

Me: Is perfect. I'm off to bed though honey. Talk tomorrow?

Jensen: Of course! Good night sweetheart.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist:

@deansimpalababy @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @nancymcl @tspmoff @kimxwinchester @maggiegirl17 @mostlymarvelgirl @idontwannabehere78 @neii3n @leigh70 @multiversefanfics @spnaquakindgdom @lessons-of-red @yvonneeeee @syrma-sensei @foxyjwls007 @senjoritanana @jamerlynn @supershygirl @impala67rollingthroughtown @justwhisperingfantasies @barnes70stark

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles fluff

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glossykissies · 7 hours ago

Note

ani would most definitely come back from a mission or smth to find you in your own little world, happy to squat down in front of you and go 'who's your daddy?' MEOW -🍓

you try to contain your excitement when he comes home from a mission, remain calm and poised when you hear the wooshing of your apartment door open. it’s part of your routine, almost like a game — you act like you don’t know he’s home so he can surprise you. you remain on the large loveseat in your home, biting your cheek to stop from grinning as you hear him approach, continuing to brush the fur of the coat in your lap as you were before he arrived. ꒰꧞ ˃ 𛱊 ˂ ꒱ྀི

soon two large hands are placed over your eyes, a stark difference to the feel in either one of them despite being covered by the same type of glove.

“guess who.” comes the velvety voice, followed by the familiar smell of charring and war and him.

you don’t say anything, because the game is over and all of a sudden you feel quite emotional. he was home again. you feel tears prick behind your eyes as you grin, hands lifting to touch his, as if checking he’s really real. when you don’t respond, he drops his hands to your shoulders, effortlessly leaning over the couch-back to crane round to your profile, dropping a kiss to your jaw bone and staring at you.

“well, aren’t you happy?” he teases and you launch into action— spinning round and standing on your knees to throw your arms around his neck. he laughs heartily, easily standing up straight and lifting you off the chair all together as you hang from his body, hands rubbing at your lower back.

“you were gone for so long.” you whisper, afraid to even look at him — like he might disappear if you do.

“yes, those pesky separatists.” he smirks against you before gracefully placing you on your feet. you continue to clutch his robe like he was your lifeline, just blinking up at him tearfully. “have you been taking care of yourself my love?” his voice is even softer this time, flesh hand coming up to graze a thumb over your cheek. your lashes flutter at the feeling. taking care of yourself. it didn’t feel right— you think on the weeks you’d gone without him, how they all mushed into a blur. had you been taking care of yourself? probably not. on top of anakins one million responsibilities, that was his job too.

you’re honest, because he’d know if you lie anyway. shrugging bashfully, you then pause and guiltily shake your head. anakin sighs out his nose, tilting his head.

“and why not?” he hums disappointedly but really meaning nothing by it. your brows pinch, brain already melting under his touch and you suck in a breath to try and gather a response.

“i missed you.”

anakin smiles, leaning down to bring his lips to yours. he pulls away from the kiss slightly after a moment, lips remaining grazing over your own trembling ones. “missed me or missed me taking care of you? hm?” he prompts and your legs nearly give out.

“…both?” you squeak and he chuckles, strong hands pulling you in by your back and supporting your weakening body.

“you sure know who daddy is, don’t you my love?” he whispers and you nearly choke on your shuddering gasp, nodding. he tilts his head in amusement, hand lifting to drag a finger down your cheek. “who? go on, tell me.”

“you. you’re my daddy.”

“yes, i’d hope so.” he croons, pressing his lips to yours and lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist in one swift movement. you were happy to have him back.

#div by bernardsbendystraws #🍓 anon #anakin skywalker prompt #a.s ♡#star wars ✮

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changingplumbob · 19 hours ago

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Day Nineteen - Connor Group 1/2

Waken up everyone! Time for another day in the villa. And not just any day, the final day as a group before we have the whole cast challenge, final dates, and the first commencement ceremony (elimination sounds harsh when I love them). As normal coins were flipped for if teeth were brushed and wheels were spun for which type of shower contestants would have.

Room orders were randomised as some are closer to the dining room than others, but after showers breakfast was served! After being instructed to eat full autonomy took control of our group members and Deanna. Room doors were locked (you know what sims are like with computers) and Deanna complimented each sim in the order they sat down to eat to prompt conversation.

We must address the elephant in the room, Isla is incredibly tense! Why? She had a weird dream. A really weird dream. A dream so bizarre she can't even put in into words. But you best believe everyone is getting an earful about it. In tandem with her friend Isabella also seems to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed, angry and scowly except for when she is being complimented.

Nyami and Berenice don't really understand why everyone is so sour today, and they try lighten the mood with some jokes. Kaye is the only one who laughs though, Deanna just looks horrified as Isla shouts forbidden words. Doesn't anyone understand? It was a REALLY weird dream! Dee just takes notes, perhaps trying to keep her own hot headedness in check.

Rather than leaving the villa the contestants head to the top floor where chairs have been set out in an odd configuration. Today Deanna and Devin are joined by their little sister Artemisia (Emisia to family, Emi to friends).

Devin: Since this show was brought to life around the idea of family having a say in challenges, we let Emisia choose one

Emi: *evil grin* Today you will be taking part in... a staring contest. First to blink loses. You will go in pairs, I will join the three winners for a semi final and then the last two standing will battle it out. Up for grabs, not that you should want it, is a solo date with Deanna. I say up for grabs because if I win overall no date for any of you! To bad? So sad. What are we waiting for?

Deanna: *sighs*

First match: Isla vs Dee

Isla: A... staring contest? A little strange if you ask me but... maybe Deanna is measuring our silliness?

Dee: ...are you kidding? Well, I'm here to win, bring it on

Winner: Dee

Second match: Berenice vs Kaye

Berenice: *excited* Ooooh

Kaye: Seems a bit . . . OK it's weird but I'll do whatever it takes to win that date

Winner: Berenice

Third match: Isabella vs Nyami

Isabella: Oh my, I might need to get prettied up...

Nyami: I have four siblings and had plenty of stareoffs with those goodballs... I am prepared

Winner: Nyami

In the semi-finals it's Dee vs Berenice and Nyami vs Artemisia. Emisia does her best to look threatening but Nyami doesn't flinch. Victories for Berenice and Nyami.

Final battle, Nyami vs Berenice. Friend against friend. Cringe against cringe. Blonde against black. Just after the battle starts, tragedy, a sneeze! The winner is… Berenice

Isla: Me and my brothers did a lot of staring contests, but I guess it has been a while since we're all grown up now... I've gotten rusty!

Isabella: I never thought I would win that anyway... But there's still more chances this round

Kaye: Are you two seeing double from the eye strain?

Isla: Don't you mean four of us

Kaye: *laughs* She's got jokes

Isabella: This did not help my mood

Dee: Can I try again? I think I could do better. Not to be a sore loser!

Artemisia: Didn't you rage quit the last challenge?

Dee: How is that your business?

Artemisia: The whole world will be my business one day

Dee: Right... so definitely no do-overs?

Nyami: Sure I didn't win but I think I did pretty good! Sneezes are random. I'm glad Bernie got a chance, the next challenge will be mine hopefully

Berenice: And that is the importance of eye drops during allergy season! I was actually wanting Nyami or Dee to take the next one but then, that is… also the importance of anti-histamines during allergy season, I guess

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Berenice is rather good at staring. In fact, she's often told that she blinks far too little for a ‘normal’ person. While she wasn’t expecting to win this date, it seems that she’s gradually warming to the idea of getting away from the villa and being around less people.

@corrienteallita, @eljeebee, @ethicaltreatmentofcowplants, @hashimasims, @jonquilyst, @riverofjazzsims

#DatingDeanna #DatingDeannaRound1 #sims 4 #the sims #simblr #my sims #ts4 #active simblr

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thewinter-eden · 1 day ago

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Blood Sugar Virus (29)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Genre: Horror, zombies, strangers to lovers, angst, suspense, slow burn Pairing: Kang Yeosang x female!reader Warnings: based on the Wanteez Zombie episode, zombies, language, discussion of parasites, gore, angst, heavy topics, suggestive content

Story Summary: You (stage name Sugar) are the co-captain of a horror acting group. You and your guys are the ones the companies hire when they want to stage a zombie, ghost, or any vaguely horrific and dystopian episode. So when you get hired by Ateez to develop a zombie program, it's just another routine that you've done a million times. Everything's going exactly according to script--until suddenly it isn't, and it starts getting a little too real.

🏆 Esteemed Moot: @ramadiiiisme

⭐️ Reader Spotlight: @mrsminseochoi

< last chapter | masterlist

Namjoon sits next to Jimin on the couch, reaching out a hand to pat his arm companionably. “Still hanging on, Chim?”

The younger man sports an easy grin, and even you can see the color returning to his cheeks. “My leg feels like it’s been put through a wood chipper, but the burn in my chest is finally starting to fade.”

Namjoon looks at you. “How did you come up with hitting him with a defibrillator?” He glances to the very same AED machine, which you had left near the axes.

You frown, still too concerned about the pain you caused and the potential harm you caused Jimin to be overly comfortable with your idea yet. “I don’t know. I just saw the AED and all I could think about was the bug zapper in the hallway of my apartment. I thought maybe sending a shock through his body might kill the parasites in him.”

“And it worked, right? I mean that was like an hour ago.” Hongjoong is still sitting with his back against the couch, his head near Jimin’s shoulder.

“I’m not a zombie.” Jimin says brightly. “I’d say it worked.”

“Have you looked at your leg?” Namjoon asks. “To see if the parasites made it farther after the shock? I don’t want to suggest that maybe you knocked them unconscious or something, but what if?”

You’re too amused by the thought to be worried about it. “I don’t think you can knock a parasite unconscious.”

“Nonetheless, anybody who wants to take my pants off is welcome to check.” Jimin winks at Namjoon. “You sure you’re not just looking for an excuse?”

Your co-captain rolls his eyes and slaps the man’s good hip. “Shut the hell up and roll over.”

Jimin shrugs and rolls onto his good side, which puts his posterior on the side of the room where you’re all sitting.

“While I’m sure we’re all excited by the prospect of earning a peep show in the middle of the worst night of our lives, if every one of you assholes doesn’t turn around I’m serving fat lips for dinner.” Rosé proclaims, reaching over her head to grab Mingi’s face in both hands and turn it towards the wall.

“I’ve already seen it anyway.” You quip, but you scoot yourself around with the rest of Ateez to face the other direction while Namjoon pulls at the waistband of Jimin’s high school costume.

“Ooo, you’ve seen it already?” Of course it’s Wooyoung.

When you glance toward him, you see a comical contrast between his teasing expression and Yeosang’s disturbed frown. The latter shoots you a side eye that has you giggling with evil intensity.

“Hey Jimin, remember when that dog bit you in the ass that time we were on a lunch run?” You call over your shoulder.

“Don’t fucking remind me.” His voice is muffled by the couch cushions.

You turn your grin back to the guys. “This crazy little purse dog jumped down from someone’s table outside this sandwich shop that we were getting everyone’s lunch orders from and fully latched onto Jimin’s butt. Ya boy was freaking out, like, ants-in-his-pants freaking, and he dragged me into the men’s restroom and dropped his pants without warning so I could make sure he didn’t get rabies or some shit.”

San nearly falls over, laughing so hard. “Oh my god.”

“Dog bites are serious!” Jimin whines.

“Yeah so is sexual harassment.” You fire back. “I could have had you blacklisted.”

“He was crying too hard for it to be sexual harassment.” Namjoon argues simply. “Though we did make him buy Sugar’s lunches for the next two weeks.” There’s the sound of rustling fabric. “Alright, Jimin, happy to report that your annoyingly perfect ass is intact. Looks like the fuckers didn’t make it past your upper thigh, but your leg is pretty bad.”

“Yeah no shit.” Jimin grumbles. “And the bite hurt. You guys would have been crying too.”

“I don’t cry.” Jongho returns flatly.

“You guys can turn back around.” Namjoon says, and your group returns to sitting in the circle around the snacks.

For the next few minutes, the room continues to fill with chatter as Namjoon, Seonghwa, and Jongho rest and refuel after their trip up to the third floor.

“So now that we know the AED works, we at least have a defense against getting infested.” Namjoon nods to you, offering props for thinking to grab the device and bring it back with you. “We should have grabbed the ones from all three floors, but it’s better than nothing.”

Or maybe not props so much as a subtle jab that you should have brought it up when you first split off for the axes.

Dammit.

“I have a taser in my purse.” Rosé offers softly.

“Hell yeah.” San grins at her as Mingi’s eyes go wide with delight.

“Best damn thing I’ve heard all day.” He says, squeezing Rosé proudly. “Fuck yeah, you have a taser in your purse.”

Yunho turns to you. “Do you have a taser in your purse?”

You shake your head. “It didn’t fit with my gun in there.”

Wooyoung’s and San’s jaws both drop at the same time. “You have a gun in your purse?”

Yeosang has already identified the sarcasm in your voice by the time you level them both with a dry stare. “She’s kidding, you numb nuts.”

“It’s South Korea, of course I don’t have a fucking gun in my purse.”

While they groan in disappointment at the lost opportunity to turn this night into a zombie shooting video game, Yeosang turns to you. “But you have a taser, right?”

You give him a sheepish smile that’s more of an ugly grimace. “I kept meaning to get one. But I never had time, and they’re so expensive!”

“I offered to buy you one.” Jimin refutes. “You just kept pushing it off.”

You shrug. “I’ve never needed it.”

Yeosang’s eyes are saucers. “What do you mean you’ve never needed it?”

“The taser conversation didn’t happen until after that incident. And what am I supposed to do, just carry it everywhere? Stuff it under my costumes?”

“Ideally, yes.” He returns, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “After this, we’re getting you a taser.”

“Sure thing.” You bluff, not at all willing to fight the ‘after this’ statement right now. “But some of my costumes don’t have enough fabric to conceal it.”

He just stares at you.

“I’m kidding.”

“Damn, I was gonna re-up our contract.” Wooyoung mutters. When San slaps him upside the head, he backtracks immediately. “I was also kidding! Jesus, it was a joke.”

“It’s okay, they’re our more popular programs.” Rosé says, happily adding fuel to the fire. “And besides, your siren costume has that strappy leg thing, we could just make it cyberpunk or something.”

Yeosang looks physically pained. “Is that another joke?”

She just snickers at him, and you don’t say anything, just watching him struggle to get his face under control. You can’t tell if he’s trying not to imagine the costume or if he’s disturbed by your more racy program options, but you let him figure that out on his own.

You do have a number of more scant costumes for certain jobs, but they’re all paired with your scariest storylines to make up for the sensuality suggested by your wardrobe department.

“I don’t really know what to believe right now, but I just want to say that your job scares me.” San says seriously. “Like, before this zombie stuff actually started, our program was awesome. It was intense and frightening and really cool, but to hear about some of your experiences?” He shakes his head and looks down at his hands. “I would be scared to do what you do with some of the clients that you’ve had. And now, knowing you, knowing the risks, I’d be so worried about you guys every time you go to do a job.”

“That’s why we do the program prep with clients now.” You tell him reassuringly. “It helps you get to know us and immerse yourself better when the program starts, but it also gives us a chance to get a feel for you. We’ve been able to catch some odd vibes and cancel contracts with some clients because of it.”

He looks relieved, but still concerned. “I’m still gonna be worried. Some of us could come with you, you know? Hang out outside while you work, so we can be nearby if you need us.”

His care for your team after only a week and one hellish experience is endearing and incredibly heartwarming.

“That’s a good thought, San, but we won’t have programs after this.” Namjoon says carefully. He bears the weight of everyone’s saddened looks with quiet anguish. “Our team is gone. If we survive this, it’s done. It’s over.”

“Don’t say that.” Rosé pleads. “Honestly, Joon, why did you have to say that? Why couldn’t you just let us have a few good moments?”

He turns to her, eyes tracing the sorrow on her face before examining every inch of Mingi’s body pressed against hers. His jaw tightens. “Our friends are gone.” He says again. “My best friend took a chunk out of Sugar’s shoulder. I can’t just pretend this isn’t happening, and I can’t pretend things are just gonna go back to normal after this.”

Her eyes harden bitterly. “Nobody’s pretending anything.”

“Guys.” Jimin coughs weakly, a deep frown signaling his obvious discomfort with the argument. “We’re just talking.”

“Yeah, I didn’t mean to—” San starts, but you cut him off.

“You didn’t. It’s okay. We thought about hiring extra security, but our company didn’t have the budget for it.” And you couldn’t afford to cover it.

“They had the funds.” Namjoon mutters, backing off from Rosé. “They just didn’t have the fucks to give.”

Hongjoong pulls one foot up to rest his elbow on his knee. “Well, in the spirit of saying fuck you to your company, if you guys ever decide to go back into the business, in any capacity, I’ll get you some security.”

Rosé smiles at him. “We can’t let you do that, but it’s so sweet of you to offer.”

“Oh I wasn’t offering.” He informs her.

You’re smiling at the exchange. You don’t throw in your own two cents, because it doesn’t involve you, but you’re grateful to hear his protective support all the same.

“You don’t have to foot any bills for us just because we’re trying to get you out of this mess.” Namjoon adds, but he nods appreciatively.

“It’s not a thank you. Don’t get me wrong, we’re all indebted to you guys for risking your asses for us, especially Sugar—”

“Leave my ass out of this.” You quip, and Yeosang snorts into his own water bottle.

“—Alright, respective asses notwithstanding, I’ll be hiring a security company because we’re all friends now and I’ll be damned if I’m letting any of you worry about asshole clients anymore.” Hongjoong finishes, shooting you a playful sneer. “You guys should have had security from the start.”

“Hell yeah,” Seonghwa agrees. “We could start a company for security guards to get trained for stunts and acting and shit. We could make it so you don’t even have to leave them out in the parking lot, because our van crews weren’t exactly effective as oversight.”

“Hyung, that’s fucking brilliant.” Sam exclaims. “Dude, we’re so starting a company. Look at us—entrepreneurs.”

“And this is how Ateez takes over the world, by starting a private military of armed actors.” You remark, grinning when he points at you like you’ve inspired him.

“I’m so in.” Wooyoung agrees. “It’s gonna be badass.”

“I think it’s a great idea.” Jimin says. “We could take real fight training now.”

Namjoon lets them continue to brainstorm for a few minutes, and then crunches his soda can and throws it into the trash pile. “Alright, back to work.” He stands and unfolds the floor plan again. “We’re gonna hit the barricade at the southeast corner, in these two classrooms and the bottom of the corner stairwell. Everybody’s coming this time, so we need someone to help with Jimin. I’ve got one of the axes, who else wants the other two?”

“San and Yeo are the strongest, but Mingi and I can step in if we need to take turns.” Yunho says.

“Me too, I’ve got you, hyung.” Hongjoong says to your co-captain.

Namjoon is momentarily stunned by the honorific, biting his cheek to stop a flattered smile. “Alright, sounds good. I also want people with free hands to watch out for each of us with axes. Zombie watch and also keeping an eye out for signs of fatigue so someone else can step in and start chopping. Sugar, Seonghwa, Rosé, I like you for the job.”

You hook a thumb at Yeosang. “He’s mine.”

His head snaps to you, eyes wide, cheeks reddening as he gives a flustered chortle.

You hear your words then, also hearing the hoots of teasing laughter from the others as you drop your head to your chest and groan. “I meant I’ll take Yeo. Dammit, shut up Wooyoung, I meant I’ll keep an eye on Yeosang. God dammit. Shut up, Yunho.” You’ve sunk yourself. Damn your tired brain.

Yeosang is grinning. “Alright, I’m hers. Who’s my second?”

You and Namjoon facepalm simultaneously.

“Oh I’m definitely sticking around for this.” Yunho volunteers. “I’ll step in for you, Yeo.” He winks at you.

“Kill me now.” You grumble into your hands.

“Maybe later.” Yeosang quiets you with a satisfied little smirk that makes you want to throttle him.

“Okay, pivoting from that weirdness, I volunteer to watch San’s muscles for signs of fatigue. I’ll watch ‘em like a hawk.” Rosé promises.

“Oh hell no.” Mingi grumbles as Rosé cackles. “I’m San’s second.”

No room for argument, not like there were any other options.

Namjoon groans. “Oh my god, I’m surrounded by horny teenagers. Seonghwa, that leaves you with me. You fine with that or do you have a crush on one of the muscle boys too?”

“No, I’m good.” Seonghwa’s laughing, giggling with Hongjoong at the matching blushes on San, Mingi, and Yeosang’s faces.

“Wooyoung, can you be on Jimin duty?” Namjoon questions.

“Why am I a duty?”

“Because you’re a three legged dog and you’re gonna let Wooyoung carry you.”

Wooyoung, meanwhile, seems pleased by the appointment. He salutes Namjoon. “I’ve got him, hyung.”

Namjoon fights another tiny smile. “I want you guys with Sugar’s team. She’s stronger than Rosé, and she doesn’t complain about how much Jimin smells.”

“Hey!” Rosé.

“Fuck you, I smell like roses.” Jimin.

“Jongho, you’re our overwatch/backup. Our teams will be working in different rooms, so I want you moving between the three of us as a line of communication.”

“Happy to warm the bench, hyung.”

Honorary big brother Namjoon looks suddenly overwhelmed by the abrupt cohesion of the remainder of your team and the entirety of Ateez. “Alright. Good. Let’s get going.”

Jimin’s grunting, struggling to push himself up. “Fuck, I can’t get off this couch.”

Wooyoung instantly jumps to his feet, hurrying to assist. “I can get you off.”

“I’m sure you can, darling, but our friends are still here.” Jimin returns without a second’s hesitation.

The room erupts again and Namjoon rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “God help me.”

The troops are readying for battle. San lands a few practice swings into the big desk, making Rosé shriek with surprise as wood chips fly at her. Mingi shields her with the breadth of his body and glares at San, who keeps practicing.

Namjoon is consulting with Hongjoong and Seonghwa, softly going over plans that you can’t hear about facing the military on the other side of the barricade.

Wooyoung has Jimin braced against his hip, standing with you as you watch Yeosang shrug off his dirty white button down and stretch his arms in preparation.

When he’s just in a tight undershirt, you are not at all prepared to see the obvious evidence of Wooyoung’s earlier claim about him being a gym junkie. “I am no longer thinking professional thoughts.”

Wooyoung cackles and almost falls into you, laughing so hard as Yeosang gapes at you.

“Oh my god.” You just fucking said that out loud. “Oh fuck me.” If you could just go ahead and use Rosé’s taser on your own brain, you’d solve so many issues.

“Oo, me—I volunteer!” Wooyoung chortles at you, barely managing to hold Jimin up when Yeosang scowls at him.

“I think that’s a bad idea, bud.” Jimin grumbles, face already pale at the stress on his leg.

“Do not make me axe my own head off right now.” You mumble, turning away from your stupidly self-appointed team and hiding your face in the corner. You think you hear Yeosang’s soft laughter behind you, but it’s entirely drowned out by Wooyoung continuing to mock you for completely losing your brain to mouth filter.

You cannot get yourself eaten by a zombie soon enough.

Anything is better than this.

“Would you idiots keep it in your pants and strategize or something? There are fucking zombies out there.” Namjoon shouts over the din.

The noise lessens immediately, the members of your team finally settling back into the situation you’re about to face.

“Woo, can you help me adjust my weight? I feel like my leg is going to fall off.” Jimin mumbles, and you turn back to them in time to see Wooyoung’s expression shift into solemn focus, hurrying to lean Jimin against the splintered remains of the desk.

“Why don’t you get on the side of his bad leg,” you suggest, moving over to help.

Wooyoung follows your instructions perfectly, planting his hip right beneath Jimin’s.

You guide Jimin’s arm over the younger man’s shoulder, and help Wooyoung ease the entire weight of his bad side over onto himself.

Jimin settles on his good leg with a sigh of relief. “Much better. Thanks.”

“When we get to our classroom, you can sit down again.” You promise, ruffling his hair. “Are you okay right now?”

He smiles shakily at you. “I might throw up the four bags of Doritos that I ate, but I’ll try to give you a warning.”

“That would be appreciated, hyung, thanks.” Wooyoung utters smartly. “Seriously though, just let me know if you need to rest. We can borrow Jongho if you need a piggyback ride.”

“That’s definitely on your list of good ideas.” Jimin wheezes weakly. “I’ll let you know.”

You step back from them, satisfied that they’re ready to go, and bend down to collect four water bottles that had been passed over for the sodas. You shove them into your duffel bag, along with the defibrillator box, and sling it across your back, wincing at the sting of your cuts.

When you straighten, you find yourself next to Yunho. He’s also warming up his upper body in preparation to eventually take over swinging the axe for Yeosang, but he smiles down at you as you approach.

This could be it.

This could be your last quiet moment with him before it’s all over. You can’t keep seeing the traces of guilt in his eyes when he looks at you. “Hey.”

“What’s up?” He asks you. “Can I help with anything? Want me to take your bag?”

You shake your head with a smile. “No, I’ve got it. I just wanted to talk to you.”

He stops swinging his arms, halting the windmill movements you’ve done a million times to warm up for your programs. “Sugar, about earlier, when I—”

You put up a hand to silence him. “Yes, about that. We’re good, Yunho. I still owe you my regret for stopping you from helping Yeosang and Mingi with Jungkook, but on the count of the other thing, we’re good.”

He looks down, mouth tightening. “That wasn’t the same. You made a good call with Jungkook. I stand by that. But the other thing, what I did to you—Sugar, I abandoned you to die. After you swooped in like a fucking answered prayer and tackled those zombies, after they had you pinned, I left you to die. I pulled Yeosang away, and he was trying to help you.”

“You fucking what?” Namjoon.

This is the first he’s hearing of the incident, and pissed doesn’t even begin to describe him.

Yunho blanches, stumbling back a few steps as your co-captain is suddenly in his face, stammering in a struggle to figure out if he should explain himself or just take whatever abuse he’s about to get.

You’re not willing to let it get that far. Shoving yourself between them in a move that makes your entire body seize with pain at your hip, you grip one hand in Namjoon’s shirt and rest the other more comfortingly on Yunho’s arm. “Stop. Back up.” You’re talking to Namjoon, but he doesn’t even look at you.

“Is that true?” He’s seething, speaking to you without meeting your eyes. “Did he let you save his ass and leave you to die?”

“Namjoon, I said get back.”

The room goes quiet at your snarl, all eyes turning to the three of you.

“I sent you out with her. I sent you to get the axe and you didn’t think to fucking mention that you don’t care if she lives or dies?” Namjoon lunges forward, shoving you back into Yunho, and you just barely get your footing back in time to push him back again.

The others are tense, concerned, hesitant to jump in while you’re still managing to hold off a physical altercation. They can’t defend Yunho for his panicked choice against you, but none of them look pleased about your friend trying to jump down his throat.

“I do care. I fucked up and I’ll never forgive myself for it, but I do care.” Yunho argues, his voice brimming with anger. “Don’t talk to me like I wouldn’t do anything to make that right, and don’t fucking talk to me like I don’t care.”

You’re seconds away from kicking Namjoon in the balls just to make him look at you, but you need him to be able to swing an axe in a minute or two, so you just settle for digging your nails into the muscle of his chest and forcing him back with all of your strength. “Hey.” You snap, and his eyes finally flicker down to you. He’s fuming, beet-red with rage, shoulders trembling furiously. “You walked up in the middle of a conversation between me and him. You need to take a step back.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I need to know when someone in my group is putting you in danger—don’t touch her, asshole, I’ll fucking break you.” Namjoon’s arm jumps up as Yunho puts a hand on your shoulder to protest you trying to defend him.

“Hey!” You punch the heels of your hands into his chest. “Joon, we’ve dealt with this. This is old news, it’s handled, it was a mistake. It doesn’t concern you.”

He’s wide-eyed, gawking at you. “Doesn’t concern me? You almost died—you were almost killed. You spend all of your time and energy trying to protect people and they turn around and throw you to the wolves? Goddammit, Sugar—”

“Hey, don’t turn this on her.” Yunho snaps, no longer apologetic. “She’s the reason we’re all here, she’s the reason you even had your acting team in the first place. Why don’t you try trusting her with the job that she obviously does better than you?”

This is no longer helpful.

“No, stop.” You’re holding them both back now. “Stop, none of this is valid, or constructive. Yunho has been locked in. He’s had our backs—he’s had my back. And this team would be nothing without Namjoon, so just take a minute, please.”

Namjoon hasn’t cooled off even a little bit. “No, this is bullshit. I’m not sending him out there with you again, he can fuck off and find the zombies for all I care.”

Before you can center yourself, he puts a hand to your shoulder and pushes you out from between them. Your weight lurches, body folding over on your hip, and you give an involuntary cry as the raw flesh pinches itself in the movement. Namjoon freezes, watching you stagger.

It’s Yunho who catches you, Yeosang suddenly close enough to take your arm as well, both of them glaring at your co-captain.

You don’t want this.

It was so wonderful, so beautiful the way you had all come together to decompress and joke and embarrass yourselves among friends, and you can’t stand to watch it all fall apart before your eyes.

You can’t leave them like this.

“Please stop.” Eyes brimming with tears at the sting still burning through your hip, you stumble in Yunho’s grasp and feel him brace you with an arm around your waist. “Please, Namjoon, please stop. I trust him, okay? We’re good.”

He’s still frozen, face splashed with horror at the pain he caused you, and he’s finally listening.

“When I came up with the AED idea for Jimin, he was the one who delivered the charge. He wouldn’t let me do it. We thought—” Your voice breaks, tears slipping. It’s such a miserable memory, such a viscerally terrifying moment that still has its claws in you, that you can barely say the words. “We thought it might kill Jimin, or hurt him irreparably, and he wouldn’t let me be the one to do it. He saved me from that, Joon. He cares. I trust him.”

Namjoon swallows, eyes flashing between you and the man who is stabilizing you after his own actions harmed caused you harm. “I don’t want him on your team. He can swap with Mingi.”

“No.” You sniffle and glare at him. “I want Yunho. Don’t touch my team.”

“Sugar, I need to know that you’re safe—”

“Don’t touch my team.” You pull yourself upright, letting Yunho’s arm release you, and approach Namjoon with as little limping as you can manage. You lower your voice until only he can hear you. “I get that you’re scared. I get that you’re worried about me and Rose and Jimin. But you haven’t been through what I’ve been through with these guys. And if you don’t get your head out of your ass and remember all of the things that they have done for us tonight, you’re going to make yourself the enemy. I trust them. Trust me.”

He’s quiet, jaw clenching, cheeks hollowing.

At long last, he nods. “You cleared things up with him? You feel safe?” He’s terrified. He’s fucking terrified that he’s going to lose you, or worse, lose all of you and walk out of here alone.

You can never even hint to him that your own safety is no longer your concern. “I feel safe.”

He glances over your head at Yunho. There are a few seconds of tortured silence before he closes his eyes and pulls you into a tight hug that sets your body on fire all over again. “I love you. I just want you to be safe.”

“I know.”

“Please be careful.”

“They’ve got me, Joon.”

“Okay.” He lets you go. Stepping around you, he extends his hand to Yunho and waits upon the grace of the man who is well within his rights to withhold every ounce of courtesy and respect. He doesn’t say anything—he won’t apologize for acting to defend you, and he won’t offer a blanket declaration of trust, but he’s willing to rebuild the bridge.

Yunho shakes his hand. “I am sorry. I always will be. But it will never happen that way again.”

You don’t let Namjoon answer. Instead, you turn back to Yunho, where he stands next to Yeosang, both of them watching you with hooded expressions. Bypassing Yeosang for the moment, but not ignoring the realization that he had stepped in for you, you prop yourself up on your tiptoes (and it still doesn’t make you tall enough) and throw your arms around Yunho’s neck. It’s a gesture of goodwill, a return to your conversation before Namjoon derailed it, and an act of friendship that you hadn’t thought you’d ever reach with him.

If it’s the last time you get to broach this subject with him, you want to take his burden with you. “We’re good, Yunho.”

He hugs you back, and you hear conversation start to pick up around the room again as tensions ease once more. “I’m so sorry, Sugar. I never realized how scared you must have been, so I’m…I’m just really sorry.”

You ease back on your heels, letting him go. “No more apologizing. I mean it.”

He nods, and manages a small smile. “You’re way too nice for your own good, you know that?”

You roll your eyes. But you’re serious when you say, “I won’t forget what you did for Jimin. For me. Thank you, Yunho.”

He’s grinning now. “Scariest thing I’ve ever done, but there he is.”

You both turn to where Jimin is still leaning heavily against Wooyoung, laughing at something you can’t hear. “Yeah. There he is.”

Warmth has returned to the room; Hongjoong has found Namjoon’s side again, softly helping to ease his fears about the incident that had been sprung on him without warning.

In the other corner of the room, you hear San teasing Rose, still holding his axe. “Do you sit on everyone’s laps or are you just partial to Mingi’s?”

“Bite me, Choi San.”

“Is that an open invitation or just for him?”

“Shut up, Mingi.”

Yeosang draws your attention away from them, stepping in close to your side. “Are you okay?” His fingers reach for your hip, his eyes flicking up to search your face.

“He just needs a minute.” You smile shakily. “He’s not a bad guy, he just carries a lot on his shoulders.”

“Are you okay?” He asks again.

You meet his eyes, caught by the solemnity in his gaze. “I’m okay.”

He gives a nod, but he lingers. Eyes soft, lips parted, he’s looking at you like he wants to say something, his fingers lifting from your hip to brush the backs of yours with a feather-light touch before his hand drops to his side. Blinking at the floor for a second, an eternity passes before he looks up at you again with the slightest smirk. “So, you like what you see, huh?”

“God, just kill me now.”

< last chapter | masterlist

tag list : @mysterysold @threevracha @igotajuicyass @velvetmoonlght @ramadiiiisme @mrsminseochoi @nightshadeblooming @furfoxsake22 @marvolos @lunaryoongie @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @noukstmblr

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writingslob · 1 day ago

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Fic Rec for To Be Hero X

GUYSSSSSS PLEASE GO READ:

The image I'm always chasing by Confetti_33

PLEASE YOU WON’T REGRET A THING PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Ahem- Anyways!

The premise of the fic is Lin Ling!Nice (Niceling???) accidentally time traveling back to when Og!Nice was still active with Wreck and wasn’t depressed (loooooooool) and how he trains them and also tries to prevent Og!Nice from killing himself in the future.

The writing is absolutely spectacular and my favorite part is how everyone has their own POV about the situation and how people have varying information. Also I love how everyone is like ‘Wow, Lin Ling!Nice is so calm, collected, and perfect’ meanwhile my guy is stressing

The fic has 4 chapters and is still ongoing and the author is going on a 2 month hiatus to focus of their studies (Good for them!) so that might be a turn off but pleaseeeeeeeee check it out if you’re interested!

#tbhx #to be hero x #tbhx nice #to be hero x nice #tbhx Lin Ling #to be hero x lin ling #tbhx wreck #to be hero x wreck #fic rec

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curly-fry-3 · 2 days ago

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Ok I’m dying for your dad dean fics they’re healing my daddy issues

So I wanted to request one 😛

I’ve had this idea while daydreaming in class but I’m too lazy to write it

It’s like that one scene in mordern family

So dean isn’t actually her father but rather a father figure like Bobby is to him

And she has a shitty dad but still loves him and he’s a hunter so he’s gone most of the time while dean and sam take her under thier wing

her dad promised to take her out for her birthday and she gets all excited for it and then waits for him to show up but he never does and dean then makes up for it and spends the day with her to cheer her up

Hope you get what I mean and take the time you need if you even want to write it

Anyway I love your fics so please don’t die

𖦹Daddy Issues𖦹

summary𖦹 Dean steps up when your father refuses to

pairing𖦹 father figure!Dean Winchester x teen!Reader

word count𖦹 713

notes𖦹 Am I writing instead of prepping for finals? yes :). Also I feel like its been forever since ive written so this might be a little doc sorry.

Thank you for the support, ill try my best not to die

Dean was watching as you excitedly ran around the bunker, packing your things. Your birthday was coming up and your father had reached out, saying he was gonna take you out to celebrate. The thing is, your dad wasnt really there for you. He had a habit of leaving you for a hunt and not coming back for months or, promising to see you and bailing for a hunt that just cant be ignored. Thats where Dean comes in. Whenever your father feels the need to ignore you, he drops you off at the bunker–you basically live there.

Dean cares for you like your his own. Hes done a lot more loving, worrying, and nurturing than your father ever has, and right now hes really worried. He knows how exited you are to go out with your dad, but he also knows that there is a very high chance your dad wont show.

He didnt want to burst your buble but he couldnt let you get your hopes up. As you were messily packing a bag in your room, he tried to remind you that your father hadn’t always followed through with his promises. You would wave him off everytime claiming that this time would be different, its my birthday–he cant miss my birthday.

After you were all ready, Dean waited with you outside the bunker. You were rocking back and forth on your feet, so exited you could hardly contain it. He carefully watched you while constantly checking his phone, your father was already thirty minutes late and he wasnt answering any of his messages. Another thirty minutes passed and your smile had faded, you knew what this ment.

Dean is leaning against the trunk of the impala as you turn to him, looking down at your shoes, “hes not coming, is he?”

He slowly aproches you, looking down at the top of your head “im sorry sweetheart, im sure theres an important reason” He tried to give your father the benefit of the doubt.

You sniffly lightly before blinking away your tears and meeting his gaze, “theres always something thats more important.”

His shoulders slump when he sees your broken expression “oh sweetheart, come’re”

He says before extending his arms out, inviting you into a hug.

You melt into his embrace instantly as you try to hold back tears “Im so stupid for thinking he would come. He never changes, he never chooses me first”

He rubs your back comfortingly “you are not stupid. He should be choosing you. Hes stupid for leaving you here. I wanna keep trying to defend him, say that he doesnt understand what hes doing, but he knows he should be here. Im so sorry.”

You keep yourself tucked in Deans arms as he consoles you “You dont need your father to be here to have a great birthday. We can celebrate, do anything you want”

You slightly pull away and look up at him with glossy red rimmed eyes “anything?”

He reaches up to wipe a tear off your cheek and smiles gently “anything.”

You take a couple seconds to think of something before responding, “well, all I really wanted was to see my dad but, you’ve done more for me than he ever has. I just want a chill night in, maybe we can have some pie”

His heart melts “we can get you a pie, sweetheart. I’d do anything for you, cause I love you, you know that right? Cause youre family and family takes care of eachother.”

You nod “I know, I love you too”

“Good” he pulls away from the hug and picks up your forgotten overnight bag “how bout we head inside and get some comfy clothes on? Do you wanna come to the store with me to get some pie, or you wanna just doordash”

You follow him down into the bunker, “doordash, i'm not leaving this house again tonight”

He nods, placing your bag down by the door and pulling out his phone “i'll get the order started, and I want you to put your favorite PJs on and go pick out something for us to watch”

Before you make your way to your room, you give him one last hug, “Thanks De.”

He reciprocates, “of course Sweetheart.”

im sorry if there are any typos

@aetherawasneverhere @mfstargirlsworld @childofjove

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #fanfic #dean winchester x daughter!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction

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twiceeshy · 2 days ago

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3% [chapter 3/?]

Read and view tags on ao3.

Summary: Three percent was the chance that suppressants would fail to protect from pregnancy, if a fertile Omega had sex with an Alpha during heat. It was non-negligible, but low.

Chapter summary: A dinner, then Valentino goes.

E, rosquez, 5.6k words.

[start] [prev chapter]

There was a dirty part of Marc that wanted to squirrel away Valentino's used shirt for himself. So he did.

Valentino had left it hanging in the bathroom he'd used to change his clothes, maybe to let it air, or maybe out of carelessness. He would surely notice that it was gone, but if Marc didn't say anything, he might not ask. He seemed averse to saying anything of value anyway.

Marc had sent Valentino out of his room after Laia fell asleep because he needed to put himself through the dairy cow treatment. He didn't want Valentino to see that.

For the sake of hygiene, he always washed his hands and cleaned his chest before and after pumping. He discovered the shirt the first time he went to the bathroom, and he couldn't help himself the second time. There was not so much harm in a little indulgence.

Valentino's scent steeped deep into the fibres of the shirt he had been wearing for the entire day. Marc double-checked that the bathroom door was locked and took the blue shirt off the hook. He knew what he liked - turned it inside out and buried his nose and mouth right where Valentino's armpit rubbed against cotton. He took a few greedy, gulping breaths. He loved this; had been deprived of it for far too long. It roused wetness between his legs that he didn't entertain.

If he had the real Valentino, he would bury his nose into his armpit and take a good bite at the soft flesh. The unrealistic corner of his mind that fancied having Valentino in his stomach salivated at the idea.

But he would never really eat Valentino. His entire life had been spent keeping his baser urges at bay for long-term benefit. Otherwise, he would have smashed himself to bits in some race decades ago.

He pulled the shirt over his head, still inside-out. It was large. The hem fell to Marc's mid-thigh. If Valentino stayed for Laia, Marc would have to find some excuses to keep taking his used clothes.

Their scents mingled in a decent imitation of Valentino's hotel sheets all those years back. Marc basked in it for several long minutes. He pulled the front of their shirts over his nose for a sniff. He would still bottle their combined scents if he could.

He was surprised to find tears leaking from his eyes. This prompted him to take the blue shirt back off and fold it into a neat square for safekeeping.

Once he was sure that the coast was clear, he brought the shirt back to his room and rummaged around for a resealable plastic bag. He discovered one that contained his winter coat, stored this way so the air could be pressed out. The coat could find another bag later.

Delicately, he placed Valentino's shirt in and took one more sniff before he zipped the seal. It would keep the scent for a longer time and prevent it from rubbing over the rest of his clothes so Laia wouldn't get too used to it, in case Valentino chose not to come back. Marc didn't want to desire this scent so much, but his body was built the way it was, and he had hurt enough.

He didn't really feel guilty. Valentino owned him this.

With one last exhale, he shut the door and went to join his family.

Marc overheard Valentino's voice when he headed to the kitchen. His conversational Spanish was basic and interspersed with English.

Out of curiosity, Marc inched backwards to avoid being detected. To his knowledge, Valentino had never interacted with any of his family members alone, least of all his mother. They'd crossed paths perhaps twice in passing when Roser attended Spanish races to see her children.

"These- ah, fruit, I don't know to say. They are nice in Thailand," Valentino said.

"Pitaya," Roser provided, very tolerantly, all things considered. "We don't see the ones with red flesh very often."

The sound of metal clanging travelled, maybe a knife or spoon being put down in the sink. Marc recalled that Valentino had squeezed a fruit hamper into his backpack. He was probably cutting it up.

"Does he like these?" Valentino asked. Marc's throat went dry, suddenly. He inched forward to hear better, back against the wall, standing as near to the kitchen as he could go without casting a visible shadow in the doorway.

Another clang, somewhat impatient. A brief pause. "Yes, he's not a picky eater. But you should know all of these things yourself," Roser said, sharp this time.

She was being protective. It brought a small grin to Marc's face. Being reminded that he was loved was always nice.

"I will learn," Valentino said, so lightly that Roser would only hate him more. But Marc carefully filed it away with everything else he knew about Valentino. It was a miniscule weight for the balance in favour of him staying.

"Learn properly. And when you don't know, respect him. Ask him," Roser chided.

Marc chewed his lip to contain his smile upon hearing this. Much as he was enjoying himself, he thought it was necessary to intervene before Valentino got scared away forever. Roser would probably find that to be an acceptable outcome, but Marc had his own plans.

He stepped into the kitchen loudly so they would realise they had been overheard. Both Roser and Valentino fell silent and turned to look at him. The scene was a tableau from his wildest dreams: his estranged ex standing barefoot in his family's kitchen, arranging neat slices of fruit into concentric circles on a large plate; his beloved mother frozen in the middle of stirring a delicious pot of stew, less than a metre away from him.

Marc waved the bag of milk in greeting before heading over to the small freezer on the counter. He'd been accumulating a small stash so that Laia wouldn't have to rely on formula milk too much when Marc finally went for his shoulder operation the following week. And it was just useful to have some extra.

"Moo. I'm a cow," Marc joked to break the tension.

Valentino snorted. "A very disobedient one. Moo," he said back sarcastically. His posture settled into something practised yet relaxed.

Marc observed him through stolen glances. He had never met another person with Valentino's natural magnetism. He could tuck all of his sincerity away and still make people want to look.

His eyes followed Valentino's fingers as they danced over the fruit, putting them in place efficiently. His fingertips, stained pink by juice, beckoned for Marc to take them into his mouth so that he could taste sweetness from Valentino on his tongue once more.

Surely Marc's pathetic hormonal imbalance would right itself soon. He couldn't keep up with this hunger for all things Alpha.

"Ahem," Roser cleared her throat. Jolting slightly, Marc tore his stare away from Valentino and turned his head to the side. He found his mother watching him with an unimpressed lift of her eyebrow.

Marc smiled at her, quashing his earlier turmoil so she wouldn't worry. "Love you mama. Dinner smells good," he said.

She was always sweet on him, though she didn't show it with words. When he approached, she let him taste the stew off her ladle and ruffled his hair. "Don't be useless and go set the table," she instructed, giving him a light push.

With a tray of cutlery balanced on one arm, Marc squeezed past his mother, which put him in proximity of Valentino. He had been sharply aware of Valentino's attention, as he studiously observed and carded information away.

Marc touched a hand to Valentino's forearm when he passed. He smiled and hoped it showed in his eyes.

Valentino was not to be outdone. He caught Marc's hand below his and held it in place. "My toro bravo, I am done here. Let me help you," he said.

Marc hadn't been Vale's anything since 2015. He leaned in closer for a fleeting moment, ducking his head under Valentino's nose as Valentino's arm snaked around his waist to hold him in place. Then they parted to a more reasonable proximity.

He ignored his mother's pointed stare. "I guess you better get used to how we do things around here," Marc said cheerfully as he led Valentino out.

Valentino managed to back Marc against a wall and cage him in with his body, which was some feat when Marc was holding a heavy tray in front of him.

"Why do you smell like this?" Valentino questioned.

There you are, Marc thought. This aggression was familiar territory. Though he didn't necessarily like it, it was easier to navigate.

"You like? You miss it?" Marc taunted. Such rudimentary body language was easy to read. Valentino's nostrils flared, admitting everything he did not say with words.

"You did something," Valentino said, pointedly breathing through his mouth and not his nose. Too bad for him, Marc would enjoy their scent all on his own. Strangely, the stressed out stink didn't consume him again. It wasn't Valentino that his body minded, but Valentino's proximity to their daughter. He would have to find some way to remedy that.

He offered a tilt of the head and a calm smile. "You always say I'm doing something. You're not going to start a fight in my house, no?"

Somehow, his body knew what was going to happen before it did. Marc set the tray down carelessly atop a stack of newspapers. his feet rested their weight on his toes, his chin tilted up in waiting.

Valentino scowled, twisted his fist in the front of Marc's shirt, and planted his lips on Marc's in a searing kiss. In Marc's house. In Marc's fucking childhood home, not ten metres away from his mother, and with all of their history unresolved.

Marc loved this. There was no thought, it was all instinct. He clutched Vale's shirt in response, to pull him down and impossibly closer. Months of loneliness, now he was warm. Kissing anyone else ever again was unthinkable. Vale was his, and he was Vale's, and nothing else made sense.

Something made a dull sound, and they sprang apart. Marc whipped around to identify the source of the disturbance and found his father standing there, awkwardly frozen at the entry to the dining area.

"I didn't mean to interrupt. Your mother used to finish cooking around this time," Julia said, as he swept imaginary lint from his shoulder.

"No, no. She's almost done. We were going to prepare the table," Marc said, crashing back to earth. He felt caught out, like a child in hiding. As though his own father didn't know what people got up to for a very real baby to be created.

He grinned shamelessly at his father, then yanked Valentino with him by the wrist. "You need to pull your weight," he nagged.

They both committed to the thinly-veiled farce that they knew what they were doing. Valentino picked up the tray and balanced it precariously on one arm. He would possibly not appear to be troubled at all, to a specific group of people who were born yesterday. Casting a quick glance at Julia, he put his arm around Marc's shoulder. "You say that but you distract me," he scolded.

"You distracted me first. I am trying to be peaceful," Marc said, somewhere on the spectrum of truth.

Valentino gave him a patient, tolerant look. He always used to when he pretended to be mature, in contrast to Marc's youthful zeal. Had they not only been acting, Marc would be overjoyed.

If other people could observe the behaviour of Valentino Rossi at dinner with the Marquez Alentas, they would probably be quite fascinated. Valentino did not look like one of them - they were a household of fairly average-sized people, except for Alex, but he shared most of Marc's face so they obviously came as a set.

Valentino was tall and always had a hunch in his spine, unlike Marc who had his back permanently straightened to meet people's eyes. Sometimes the hunch read like a sign of confidence from someone who didn't need to expend effort to assert his authority. Apparently when he was feeling out of place, it could read as stiff and awkward.

He had never been in a room where he didn't command attention, but in the scheme of their family dynamics, Valentino didn't have much position. Marc watched him with interest, and wondered if he would ever appear to belong a little bit more. If he would find things to start conversations about, and share in their inside jokes, and learn to navigate their habits with more ease. Laia was a Marquez Alenta as well, and it would be nice if Valentino would be comfortable with her, then the rest of them, by extension. It would be nice if he could brush up on his spoken Castilian so he could speak as fluently as he listened, though there was nothing wrong with mostly listening on his first day there. But Marc was thinking too far ahead.

They got to the end of dinner without Valentino asking Marc if he liked pitaya. Marc only noticed when he watched Valentino struggle with stained fingers for the second time that day. He'd dropped a slippery cube onto the table and picked it up by hand. Then there were no more pink fruit on the plate, and he was none the wiser about Marc's feelings. What a strange thing to be disappointed by.

Alex noticed the direction of his gaze and kicked him under the table to catch his attention. "Don't be silly Marc," he worried. He had been speaking almost exclusively Catalan since he returned home, to Valentino's visible consternation. Valentino was such a curious person that being left out of a whole conversation had to be killing him.

"It's like you don't know me. Actually, I am quite smart," Marc said. He laughed obnoxiously when Alex looked for his foot to kick again caught someone else in the process. Marc hoped that it was Valentino.

He speared the last slice of mango onto his fork and caught Valentino's eye, from where he sat across him at their rectangular table. "I like all the fruit, by the way," he enunciated clearly.

Valentino looked jolted from his socially awkward silence. His face puckered, as though he had bitten into a lemon instead of something sweet. "I am glad. You should be eating well," he said, reading the script a normal co-parent without quite pulling it off.

Marc's parents traded doubtful looks. They might not be together anymore, but they still shared a healthy amount of understanding where their children were concerned.

He and Valentino had much to learn from them. Dismayed, Marc realised that a passionless, non-romantic co-parenting situation might be something he was supposed to aspire towards.

His mouth tingled with the memory of their aborted kiss. It felt as though they had the opposite problem, of having passion but nothing else.

He touched a hand to his lips, and the movement caught Valentino's eye. Marc scrunched his face and hoped to convey something. He needed to catch Valentino alone, when there was nobody else around to complicate things. They had a lot to sort out.

Only after everyone turned in for the night did Marc seek out Valentino. He still had the same shirt on, partly as a statement of unrepentance, and partly because he had planned to wear it to sleep in the first place.

He wandered into the living room and found Valentino squatting on the floor to rearrange some things in his backpack. He had somehow found space in it for a hardcover book. Infant Care for Alphas read the title. Marc's chest gave a little twinge of relief to realise that Valentino did at least care enough to do some research.

"Hey," he said quietly. He made a quick decision to sit down on the pull-out bed, folding a leg beneath him. It was his house, and he didn't want to have a long-drawn conversation while standing.

Valentino nodded in greeting. "I never knew your parents were separated," he remarked.

Marc smiled wanly. "They waited until me and Alex were adults so we wouldn't have to worry about custody, then it took some time to split the assets. It wasn't happening when I was with you."

"They get along well," Valentino said. He must have realised the same thing as Marc over dinner, that successfully co-parenting through personal differences was aspirational. Valentino's own parents were more complicated. He never shared very much about it directly, but from the hints and from learning everything he could when he had only been a fan, Marc could put together a rough picture.

Valentino thumbed the ribbon sticking out of his book, and got up to join Marc on the bed. There was a full metre between them as they sat at the bottom edge. Though nobody else was walking about at that time of the night, being in the living room felt very revealing.

Marc sat close enough to catch Valentino's scent. It was restrained, neat, not like the ranging Alphas that he knew to avoid. Even on track, Valentino had always been more famed for being a thinker than a hormone-driven chaser, until Marc brought out the worst in him.

"Laia is sleeping again, I thought you would like to know," Marc said. She was, after all, the only reason Valentino would visit this house.

"Good. You look well, and you're doing a good job with her," Valentino said.

"Yeah?" Marc asked, but he wasn't desperate enough to dig for compliments. He knew he was doing all he could, and he had great role models while growing up. He spoke again before Valentino could elaborate. "We need to discuss some things."

Valentino hummed in agreement. "Yes. I want to see Laia again, I wanted to tell you this."

"She'll probably wake up in an hour or so, it's hard to sleep these days," Marc said dryly.

"I remember waking up sometimes, when my brother was younger," Valentino said, slightly wistfully.

Marc couldn't remember the last time Valentino shared an anecdote for no greater purpose. He liked collecting facts about Valentino, to shade in the complex details.

"You should remember what to do with babies then. You can hold her when she wakes again," he offered. He would react better, somehow. Maybe he would even teach Valentino how to change a diaper, if he didn't know yet. The prospect of reality could be stranger than his imagination, at times.

Valentino nodded, and placed his book next to him so he could focus on Marc. "I meant, another time also, not in an hour. Between races, I would like to visit."

Marc's heart rate sped up, despite his efforts to temper his expectations. "Good. You have to come by often, so Laia can recognise you."

Ideally they would wrangle some kind of permanent arrangement out, but the whole concept of being an actual family felt too intangible to shape. They had whisps of dedication and intent. Marc would let Valentino stay for as long as he wanted, but he wouldn't beg him to, and he would never agree let Valentino take her away to Italy to raise her there. And Valentino had never been the type of person to commit to more than he was ready for.

"I'll work it out with you. I have to leave some time before my next race to get some things, but next time I will be more prepared," Valentino said.

Marc didn't know what being more prepared entailed. More gifts? Training gear? Clothes? Enough clothes that he wouldn't have to travel to Tavullia between races? Marc was curious but he didn't really want to ask, because Valentino would downplay whatever his intentions were.

"She'll grow big so fast you can't believe it, or at least my mother says she will," Marc said. The chat was already less painful than he anticipated, so he allowed himself to relax slightly. He pulled his other leg up on the sofa bed, and rested his elbows on his knees. "I'm going for an operation next week on my shoulder by the way - the right one, it's been fucked since Buriram last year."

Buriram, which was before Valencia, which was before Laia's conception. Marc could see when the realisation sank it - Valentino's face paled. So at least he hadn't noticed that he had been causing Marc pain that day, and he wasn't just ignoring how he aggravated the injury.

"How bad is it?" Valentino asked.

Marc shrugged. "I can get through life. After that, my trainer told me to get used to speed by karting, before I head back out to track on training bikes.

He planned to take the road bike out for a spin, however. His mother was against it because, as she said, she knew him too well. But Marc was a mother too, and he knew the importance of transporting himself around in one piece when there were no stakes. He simply missed the heat of a bike beneath him, engine purring like a living thing, under his control. It was a part of him. Marc was meant to pass his days on two wheels as much as he had two arms and two legs.

He got back to the root of the conversation. "I mentioned it because we need to put up a birth announcement soon. If I'm around karting tracks, people will know that I'm not pregnant anymore." The last few words filled him with buoyancy.

His temporary happiness was cooled immediately by a furtive look on Valentino's face. "We need to put up an announcement?"

The question was so stupid that Marc took a moment to process what Valentino meant. Then time stopped.

Of course, things had been going too well.

"Obviously, a baby can't have one parent, can she?" he asked, barely holding on to his temper. He was going to shout. Marc never shouted, ever.

"What do you want me to say? I fucked you, is that it? It looks bad for both of us," Valentino argued, but he was scared.

Marc was going to throttle him. How dare Valentino be scared, when it had been Marc who had to carry the baby, and Marc who had to deform and milk himself, and Marc who had to announce to the world months in advance that he wouldn't be defending his title because he let himself get fucked, and he was too sentimental to give the baby up. If he had a Euro for every time someone on the internet called him "bitched", he would double his wealth.

"You make the announcement, or I'll do it for you," Marc said. He could hear his anger in his voice. His mouth did something that he couldn't control; might have been a grin, or just barred, gritted teeth.

"Who let you decide?" Valentino asked, leaning forward, sharp eyes blazing, but he didn't have ground to stand on. He never did, and Marc had been powerless in stopping him from getting away with his arguments too many times. But no more. In his household, Valentino was not an idol, just a man, and he had nothing on Marc.

Marc got to his feet and balled his fists. He had been too comfortable, he always had too much faith in Valentino for no reason at all. How could he have ever let him into the house without ascertaining Valentino's intentions? After all that he told himself to be cautious, to not let him get close to Laia until he could he trusted, Marc had opened the door wide and given him free entry. No wonder Valentino thought he had the leeway to keep his secrets as he wished.

"Vale," Marc said icily, "my daughter has two parents. Even if you don't like it, the other one is you. You already know, but she can take a genetic test if you want. And Laia will not grow up with people starting rumours about who her father is. If I tell her it's you and you say it's not, the world will believe you. You're not going to turn my daughter into a liar."

Valentino swore. "I won't disown her Marc, what are you saying? I already said I want to come back."

"Then what's the problem with an announcement?" Marc demanded. He had already drafted it out on his phone with great difficulty, and planned to lock the comments on all of his accounts so that people couldn't say hurtful things. Because he knew that Laia would grow up and be able to see everything that people said, so her birth had to be treated delicately. They were too famous to not be careful about how they shared things.

He thought it would be prudent to run through what he had written with Valentino, since they both had a stake in the announcement. Valentino could vet his Italian version for typos and cast the announcement in a way his fans would be more receptive to. And he'd wanted to ask for a photo together, so Laia wouldn't wonder why she had none with both parents when she grew up.

All along, he thought it would be pretty obvious that they both had to claim her in public. Whether Valentino took part in raising her or not, this seemed like basic human decency to him.

He thought. Marc always made the mistake of believing that Valentino would share the same thought process as regular people.

Valentino was speechless. What defence could he have? Surely, he just never fully considered the inconvenience a baby would bring to his life, because he didn't have to spend time with her until now. Not for the first time, Marc was bitter that Valentino had the fortune of living regularly and racing.

"Tomorrow, I'm publishing it. I don't care if you're ready," Marc decided.

"Fuck. Marc, at least let me tell my mother, huh? My friends?"

"You haven't?" Marc's voice was getting shrill. "You had months."

He had all the time in the world to decide how to break the news. Marc had to waddle around with a pregnant belly and endure weird looks from strangers who recognised him.

Valentino paled. "How can I, before I'm sure?"

Sure of what, Marc didn't ask. Maybe he thought Marc would get rid of Laia, as though Marc would have changed his mind after telling Valentino he was to be a father. After a certain point, it wouldn't even have been legal anymore.

"So you tell them," Marc said. He was livid and he was pacing. He felt like a hysterical Omega, the type who used to annoy him in movies, only now he knew that it wasn't their fault. These situations were unfair and difficult, and it always seemed to be him to have to suffer his life crumbling before him while Valentino put on a hurt face and got away.

Valentino sighed, contrite at least. Better than 2015, but that was such a low bar to clear that being reminded of it only enraged Marc further. "I will, alright. Give me time, I'll see them face to face and break the news. I won't disown our daughter."

"Okay," Marc stopped in his tracks, he met Valentino's eyes with enough anger to bite his head off. "Go then, if telling them face to face is so important. Leave my house now. I'm still publishing tomorrow."

Valentino regarded him as though he was a wild animal. Toro bravo, Marc recalled him saying. Well, perhaps Marc would be better off being a fighting bull. He could use the horns - he was mad enough to murder.

"I'll call," Valentino conceded. "I should have thought further ahead."

"No," Marc said. He could feel the expression on his face, uncontrollable, but sliding into a smile. He never could maintain true anger for long, much as his body vibrated with it. Channelling it into something else was always easier, until he could adopt the new feeling.

He snatched the book off the pull out bed and strode towards Valentino's backpack, then unzipped it and stuffed the book it. Without really looking, he reached his hands out for the few of Valentino's possessions that had made their way around the room.

Valentino hurried over and snatched the bag from him. "Marc, what the fuck are you doing?"

"Packing," Marc said. "It's important, right? You should go home and tell your mother she's a grandmother. Mine would be so upset if I told her over the phone.

"Fuck," Valentino swore again. He dropped the bag on the floor and buried his face in his hands. For once, he seemed nearly as miserable as Marc felt. His scent was like Marc had never experienced before, weeping and desperate and acrid. It would seep into the walls. "Are you kicking me out Marc?"

Marc really hadn't planned to. He thought they'd have a good chat and go to bed separately, and Valentino could spend the next few days there getting to know everyone. One more hour to see Laia awake again - fucking hell, they were a disaster if they couldn’t even keep it going for that long.

"Yeah," he said. He smiled properly. His facial muscles had come back to him. "Your family is bigger now. Congratulations. Tell everyone at home you fucked Marc Marquez, they'll think you're cool. Come back after the next race."

Valentino shook his head in denial. "No. No, she's my daughter too. This is- you- it's important to me."

Marc refused to let himself be moved again. They'd kissed just that day, and it already felt like a distant memory. In spite of himself, Marc had been more hopeful and receptive than he had known.

"Then come back after you go," Marc said. He just…he couldn’t, until he had evidence that Valentino was willing to put in the effort. He kept trying to make it easy, Valentino hadn't even realised.

"Marc," Valentino said. He had never invoked Marc's name so many times in a day before.

"What's going on?" a third voice interjected. Marc couldn't believe that he had not noticed they had company, attuned as he was to his brother's light scent and presence. Alex had an empty water bottle in his hand, and a very concerned look. The living room was much too open to a private conversation.

Alex went over to Marc and placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. Marc nearly melted into the touch. He had to turn his brain on to hold his body tense. Enough weakness had been shown for the night.

"I was just telling Valentino to come back after the next race," Marc said, without further context.

It was impossible to put together the rest of the conversation based on that. Alex's eyebrows creased as he frowned and scrutinised Marc for hints. Marc held his smile.

After a moment, Alex spoke. "You should listen to him," he said with blind loyalty. He looked at the bag on the floor, and random possessions strewn on the side. Valentino was the one closest to it, yet Marc was the one who wanted him to go. The clues would not add up. Marc didn't know if he would ever have the will to explain the entire conversation in full, and in any case, he didn't think his little brother needed to be exposed to the full brunt of how desolate relationships could end up being.

Valentino looked between Marc's face and Alex's cold gaze. He always, always won arguments, but it seemed that he had lost his words this time.

Marc was a little bit disappointed. The thrill of victory was completely absent. One would hope that the undefeatable Valentino would conjure a compelling argument out of his hat.

"I will do as you say," Valentino said. He took a deep breath and bent down to shove his things haphazardly into his backpack. Sans the fruit hamper and a shirt, he had the space not to organise properly. He slung it over his shoulder, then reached towards Marc as he stood to make his exit. Instinctively, Marc caught his hand, and his rational mind only caught up when he felt Valentino's warm skin against his.

"After the next race," he said.

"Yeah," Marc allowed.

Valentino let go. He nodded at Alex, and took heavy steps towards the front door. Marc followed to let him out of the gate and lock up behind him.

The walk through their porch had never felt so long.

"You can call a cab?" Marc asked, when they reached the gate.

"Yes." Valentino swallowed. "Marc, I'm sorry."

Apologies were rare between them. Marc was horribly sad that it had come to this. "Me too," he said. He thought there were ways that he could have handled the confrontation better, but if he said what he needed to say, he didn't see how the outcome would be different.

He locked the gate, then turned back home where his brother was waiting for him at the doorway, cast in warm light. His legs carried him to Alex's side in quick strides, and he leaned his cheek against his brother's shoulder.

"Now he wants to hold your hand? He's such an ass," Alex said.

"Yeah," Marc agreed, though he liked having his hand held. His neck hurt with the absence of a claim, starker now that he had kissed his Alpha and sent him away, with his own hands and his own words. He was not meant to raise a baby alone. His body was weak with a mixture of chemicals that told him off for his actions, but Marc knew he had done the right thing.

It was good that Alex had walked in on them, because now that Marc knew what a mother's rage was like, he had a feeling his mother would not have been half as kind.

#shu's fics #rosquez #motogp rpf #if there are any egregious typos please dm me 😭

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