#definitely going to put in trigger warnings EVERY CHAPTER

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 18: Don't Let Me Go

Summary: Things have gone wrong in your pack's absence. Can they make it back in time before irreparable damage is done? Can they fix the damage that's already been dealt?

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 10,232...oops

Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, panic attacks, very descriptive scenes of panic and anxiety, very heavy emotionally in the beginning, major invasions of privacy, hurt/sort of comfort, very brief mention of violence and death, and most importantly: fluff

A/N: Yeah, so this one kind of got away from me. It's definitely one of my favorite chapters now, and it's definitely the longest so far. It's pretty heavy, so plan something fun afterwards because it will hurt. I tried to catch all the possible triggers, but of course, if I miss one let me know. I promise things will begin to take a turn for the happier after this, at least for a bit. Picks up pretty much right where chapter 17 left off.

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You’re shaking. Your breaths are coming in gasps as you stare at your open door. There’s no scent in the air, nothing that would give you a hint of who invaded your space, or if they’re still in there. You should leave, barricade yourself somewhere and call Dr. Keller, or even Kate. 

What could they do, though? Your pack won’t be home until tomorrow at the earliest. 

No one can help you. 

You slowly push your door open, ready to run in case someone is hiding inside. You stand in the doorway, scanning the small space, but there’s no sign of anyone. There’s still no scent either, just your own mingled with the slight chemical burn of scent blockers. Your eyes scan the room, looking for anything that might be new, anything that might be missing, anything that might be slightly out of place. 

The clothes on the floor are slightly rumpled, but you’re not sure if you did that in your haste to pull on shoes before you left, or if they’ve been that way since the knock sounded on your door. You lift your gaze to the ceiling, scanning it and that’s when you notice it. The cover over the vent is slightly out of place. You likely wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been paying attention, if you hadn’t looked. 

The thought sends a chill running down your spine. 

You keep your eyes on the vent as you grab your desk chair, kicking clothes out of the way as you move it under the vent. You stand on the chair, reaching for the vent, but it’s not quite enough. You shove the chair to the side, taking everything off your desk before you pull it under the vent. You climb up on shaky legs, your heart thudding in your chest as you remove the vent cover. 

Nausea twists at your stomach as your breath leaves you in a sharp gasp. There, strategically placed between two of the gaps in the vent cover, is a camera. It’s small, and would have been invisible just staring at the vent from below. You feel like you might be sick as you pull it free from the vent cover, staring down into the tiny lens. 

How long has it been up there? 

You drop the camera onto your desk, your fingers shaking and trembling as you feel along the edges of the vent, checking for anything else that might be hiding up there. You replace the cover after you find nothing, a sense of dread filling you. 

Had the guys put it up so they could watch you, make sure that you’re safe? Had they put it up there before you arrived? You think about all the times you’ve changed in your room, your heat. 

You climb down from the desk, tugging it further towards the center of the room before you climb back up, unscrewing the cover off the light. You check the bulb, looking for any cameras or recording devices. You screw the cover of the light back on after finding none, a quiet sob leaving your lips as you look around your room. 

You close the door and lock it before you begin your search, checking every corner and piece of furniture for cameras or recording devices. You empty the dresser and closet, checking every drawer and corner for anything suspicious. 

You pull recording devices from under your desk and the back of your nightstand, the adhesive still fresh enough they pop right off. A cold sweat has overtaken you as you find another recording device and another camera, adding them to the growing pile on your desk. 

A quiet sob of fear leaves your lips as you check the bathroom, tearing your room apart to check every inch. You search up a tutorial on YouTube, using your phone to check for more possible cameras that you might have missed. 

You stare down at the pile of cameras and recording devices on your desk. Someone entered your room and planted them while you were with General Shepherd. It had all been deliberate. Get you away from your room and distracted so they could enter and set up the devices. You wonder if it’s all part of some sick plan, some way to ensure things are going well with your pack. General Shepherd had been very interested in your mark, invading your space without a moment of hesitation to see it firsthand. You would have shown him, had he asked to see it. Instead he’d just done it himself, as if it was nothing. 

Your hands are shaking as you find a ziploc bag in the mess you’ve made of your room, putting the cameras and recording devices into it. You drop it onto the floor before stepping on it, listening to the crack of metal and plastic and glass under your shoe. Tears slip down your cheeks as you pick up the bag of broken pieces, taking it to the bathroom. You hide it far in the back of the cupboard beneath the sink, piling things around it and on top of it to keep it hidden. 

You stand in the doorway of the bathroom, your skin crawling as you stare at the mess. You don’t feel safe anymore, not even in your own space. The thought of someone breaching the sacred space, entering your room without a second thought to put up cameras makes your stomach churn. 

Where will you go? You can’t just leave, find somewhere else to feel safe. What if they did the same to the guys’ rooms? There could have been an entire team of people that came in and put cameras up all over the barracks. A sob leaves your lips as you rush to the door, double checking it’s locked before you shove the dresser against it. You flip your desk up to cover the window as much as it can, just in case anyone tries to climb in.  

You sink to the floor in the middle of the disaster that has become your room, sobbing quietly. You want your pack home, you want to feel safe again. You glance at your phone where it’s sitting on a pile of shirts, afraid to even touch it. That woman could have done anything to it while you were with General Shepherd. What if they’re trying to call you and they can’t reach you? 

You should try to reach Dr. Keller, tell her what happened, get her to check if there’s anyone lurking around the barracks that shouldn’t be. What if they try to attack her, though? Can she defend herself? You don’t know if she can fight or not. What if she gets hurt because of you? She could ask someone else on base to look, but what if they were involved in it? What if it was someone already on base that had done it? The thought nearly makes you sick. 

You’re scared to leave again. What if they’ve noticed you found the cameras and come back while you’re gone? What if they come back while you’re here? 

The tears flow freely as you sob, too afraid to even move. You can feel it, the panic starting to bubble up again, the fear welling inside you. Your muscles begin to tense, shoulders pulling up near your ears as you try to defend yourself from this invisible threat. It’s an easy slope from fear to distress, and there’s no one to help you if you start distressing. You press your palms into your eyes, holding your breath to try and shock your body into something other than panic. 

You bite back a startled scream as a knock sounds at the door, your heart rate spiking again. 

“It’s just me,” Dr. Keller’s voice sounds through the door. “Ready for dinner?” 

You take a deep breath, staring at the dresser blocking your door. You’ll have to move it to get out, which she’ll likely notice. You could lie, you could lie easily, but you’re not sure you could keep it up right now. She’ll notice the tears, the obvious signs of panic and distress. She’ll want to know, and you can’t trust yourself not to spill everything. 

You should tell her about what had happened, but you know she’ll be disappointed. She’ll think you were stupid for leaving, for not even sending her a text. She’ll tell John when he returns, too. He should know about it, but there’s no way a high ranking General could arrive on base without them knowing, especially one that’s their commander. Maybe it had all been a test. Maybe they do know about General Shepherd and just forgot to tell you this was going to happen. 

Maybe Dr. Keller even knew about it, and didn’t say anything because she thought you knew too. 

“I-I’m not hungry.” You say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. 

There’s a pause outside the door for a moment, a beat of silence that’s too loud.

“Is everything alright?” She finally asks. 

“Y-Yeah.” You say, clearing your throat. “Just...not really hungry right now.” 

It’s silent again for a beat, making you hold your breath anxiously. 

“Are you sure? I can come back later, or bring you dinner.” She says. 

“I’m sure.” You swallow the tears welling in your eyes again. “I’ll grab a snack if I get hungry later.” 

“Okay...” She says, and you can almost see the frown on her face. “Text or call if you need anything, alright?” 

“Yeah.” You say, your voice cracking a bit. 

You regret it almost instantly, the urge to shove the dresser out of the way and fling the door open strong as you hear her receding steps down the hallway. You don’t want to be alone, but Dr. Keller can’t give you what you need. The tears start falling again, sliding down your cheeks as you flop onto your back, ignoring the way the edge of a book digs into your spine. 

You just want your pack back. You want John to scoop you up into his arms and wrap you in his warmth and soothing scent. You want Kyle and Johnny to squish you between them, sandwich you so tightly you’re scared you might burst. You want Ghost to wrap himself around you and offer you a blanket of protection against anyone who would even dare cast a glance in your direction. 

You just want to feel at home again. 

You want to be safe again. 

***

The emotional and physical exhaustion pushes you into the state between consciousness and sleep. You’ve moved to your bed, tucked under the covers and stuck between the wall and your giant bear, as if it could offer you some form of protection as you float between awareness and somewhere in the realm of sleep for a few hours.

You’re not sure what time it is, when the disruption comes. It takes you a moment to register why you’re awake. Some deep part of your brain is prickling, sending out warning signals to your body. Something’s happening, something’s wrong, something’s posing a threat. 

You hold your breath in the silence of the barracks, listening to the slow, quiet footsteps making their way down the hall. For a moment you think you might be imagining them, that you’re still asleep and dreaming. Your fingers pinch at your skin, nails digging in to confirm that you are, in fact, awake. This is really happening. 

Your heartbeat picks up, the bitter stench of fear that’s coated your room intensifying as the footsteps pause outside your door. You let out a quiet, shaky breath as you lay there, thinking up every time you checked the door in the last few hours to ensure it was locked and the dresser was still pushed in front of it. 

You cover your mouth as the door handle wiggles, catching on the lock. The whimper of fear threatening to rise catches in your throat as you hold your breath, your body trembling under your blankets. You should reach for your phone, send a text to Kate, call Dr. Keller, do something. Yet, you’re frozen in fear as the handle continues to wiggle before stopping. 

You don’t release a breath until the footsteps fade, a quiet whimper slipping from your lips. Someone just tried to get into your room. 

You’re panicking, breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as you burrow under your covers, barricading yourself between the wall and your bear, hoping you’ll be invisible in case they come back, in case they force their way in. You can’t fight, not after the day you’ve had. The best you can hope for is that your scent is rank enough in the room it’ll deter whoever is trying to get in. 

You need tomorrow to come, and fast. 

***

Daylight doesn't bring any sense of comfort. 

All it does is shed more light on the disaster your room has become, the physical representation of your internal thoughts and feelings. Your face feels puffy from crying, and there’s a bad taste in your mouth. You haven’t brushed your teeth since yesterday, nor have you showered, too scared to put yourself in such a vulnerable position. 

You glance at your phone, checking for missed calls, but there’s none. Dr. Keller will be by soon to get you for breakfast, but you’re not sure you can stand going to the mess. The idea of leaving your room, leaving it empty so anyone could just walk in and bug it or touch your things or hide out so they can take revenge on you for finding and destroying their cameras and recording devices has you paralyzed. 

That must have been what whoever entered the barracks last night had come to do. Maybe they thought you’d spend the night in one of the other rooms and they’d come to replace them. Or, maybe they wanted you to be in your room. Maybe that was the plan all along. 

The thought sends a chill running down your spine. 

You burrow back under your blankets, curling up against your giant teddy bear. You wish it was Price, that his arm would wrap around you and hold you close, keep you safe and protected in his arms. You’d take any of them right now, even Ghost. At least you know he’d protect you, especially if someone tried to enter the barracks without permission. 

You’re still lying there when Dr. Keller arrives. You stare at the dresser still pushed against the door, keeping you from opening it. Not that you really want to. You can’t stop the anxiety from taking over, bringing forward the image of Dr. Keller held at gunpoint on the other side of the door, trying to trick you into opening it so whoever tried to get in last night can finally do what they came to do. 

You know it’s a ridiculous thought. No one would be that stupid in broad daylight, and you doubt Dr. Keller would let something like that happen to her. She’d put up a fight, or at least you hope so. 

You can’t move the dresser without her knowing you’d pushed it against the door, which will only prompt questions. Questions you don’t want to answer. 

She calls your name through the door, concern lacing her voice. “Everything alright?” 

No. You want to scream it, tears gathering in your eyes again. You want to push the dresser out of the way, throw open the door and confess everything that’s happened in the last few hours to her. You want to bring her into your space, keep her there until your pack returns so you can feel even just an ounce of safety. 

But what if she gets mad? 

Leaving yesterday was stupid. Going off with some unknown beta without telling anyone was the dumbest thing you’ve done since your arrival on base. She’ll be disappointed and she’ll tell your pack and they’ll be disappointed that you didn’t say anything to her about it. Even if they knew it happened, they’d still be disappointed that you didn’t think to even question it, that you didn’t think to let Dr. Keller know what was going on. 

You made a stupid decision, and you won’t be able to take their disappointment and anger. Not after everything. 

“Yeah.” You call out, your voice shaking. “I-I’m alright.” 

You can tell she doesn’t believe you, even though you can’t see her. She probably has that look on her face she gets when she knows you’re not telling the whole truth. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart. You’re afraid it might give out after the stress of the last few days. 

“Are you ready for breakfast?” She finally asks, likely giving up on trying to get any more details from you. 

You’re not hungry, and you know going to the mess will not end well. The risk of distressing is high, and the thought that any one in the mess might have been the intruder last night nearly sends you over the edge. One wrong glance in your direction might cause you to do something reckless. “I’m not hungry.” You finally say, pulling the blankets tighter around you. 

“Are you sure?” She asks. “Did you eat something last night?” 

“Yeah.” You lie, trying to keep your voice from breaking. “I had some snacks.” 

Her feet shuffle outside the door for a moment, and you can almost hear her sigh. “If you’re sure?” 

“I-I’m sure.” You reply. 

There’s a moment of silence before you get a response, your breath catching in your throat from the nerves. “Alright.” She finally says. “I got word that your pack will be landing in a couple of hours and we have permission to go out to the airfield and greet them. I’ll come back to get you when it’s time. If you need anything, call me.” 

You listen to her footsteps recede down the hallway, tears burning your eyes. You hate lying. You feel bad for keeping the truth from her, but the shame of revealing what you did is too strong. 

You hastily wipe your eyes, staring at the mess on your floor. You need to get your room back to at least its somewhat normal state, and you need to put yourself back to your normal state as well. If anyone gets any hint that something is wrong, you might crack, and you’re not sure you could handle the repercussions. 

You start with the desk, flipping it back the way it’s supposed to be and positioning it as close to where it was as you can get. You collect the books and other little things that go on it, trying to arrange it as close to how it normally is. You know they’ll notice if any little thing is out of place, if anything looks suspicious. You can blame some of it on cleaning, if they ask. You did some deep cleaning while they were away. That’s one way of putting it. 

You push the dresser back into place next, putting the drawers back in before starting on the clothes, putting everything back where it belongs. You make your bed last, the urge to nest gone completely. You’re shaking with exhaustion by the time you finish, tempted to crawl back into bed, but you know you can’t. Your pack is coming back, and you need everything to look like it’s fine still. 

They’ll notice. They’ll see it, and they’ll ask, and you’ll have to spill everything and face the shame and anger from being so stupid. 

Tears burn your eyes as you slip your desk chair under the door handle, making sure it’s secure before heading to the shower to get ready for your pack’s imminent return. You shower with the door open, getting done quickly to avoid being vulnerable for long. You try to make yourself look as decent as possible, ignoring the fact that there’s broken cameras and recording devices hidden under the sink. Eventually you’ll forget. Eventually it’ll fade from your mind and become nothing more than a forgotten nightmare. 

One of many. 

You toss your pajamas on the floor haphazardly, just to make things look more normal. You know if it’s too clean, that might raise some suspicions as well. You don’t want to give away that something happened, you don’t want to raise any suspicions. You just want things to go back to normal. You want your pack back, and you want to feel safe again. 

At least, until they have to leave again. 

You sink to the floor, leaning up against your bed as you wait for Dr. Keller to take you to greet your pack when they return. 

***

Every minute seems to drag on infinitely as you stare across the tarmac. They’ll be landing any minute. Any minute now the nightmare will be over and you’ll get to see your pack again after days of being apart. Finally, maybe, you can begin to feel safe again. 

You watch the plane as it comes in to land, your hands already trembling in anticipation. There’s a twisting in your stomach, you’re not sure if it’s worry or fear or excitement. They’re so close, so close you can almost smell them. Your omega is scratching at the back of your brain, your muscles twitching as the ramp begins to lower on the plane. You need to see them, you need to smell them, you need to ensure they’re alright. 

You can’t stop yourself. As soon as their boots hit the tarmac, you’re running. You don’t care if you’re breaking rules, you don’t care if the other soldiers get worried, or see you as a possible threat, you need to be in your alpha’s arms again. 

John grunts from the force of you hitting him, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You throw your arms around him, clinging to him as tight as you can. You’re whimpering, the quiet sounds dragging from your lips but you don’t care. You press your face into his chest, breathing him in. He smells like sweat and musk, the sharp metallic tang of gunpowder burning your nose. Yet, underneath it all, you can make out the earthy scent, the petrichor going straight to your brain. 

His arms wrap tight around you, squishing you up against his chest. His vest digs into your skin, but you don’t care. You can’t feel much of anything but relief. His breath fans your forehead as he leans down, his hand cupping the back of your head. He shushes you gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Tears fill your eyes as you cling to him, fingers gripping his shirt tightly like you’re afraid he might disappear again. If it wasn’t for the pain in your chest, you might have thought this was all a dream, that they might disappear suddenly and you’ll wake up alone again. 

“Easy.” John rumbles, gently stroking the back of your head. 

You cling to him tighter as his hand gets close to your neck, the thought of General Shepherd’s hand being so close to your neck where he could scruff you so easily making your insides squirm. 

He’s gone. He’s gone and your pack is here. 

“You’re alright.” John tries to reassure you, squeezing his arms around your trembling form. “I’ve got you.” 

You keep your face pressed against his chest, breathing him in, trying to get his scent to calm the raging storm within you. Your omega is still scratching at the back of your mind, a deep need to claw your way under John’s skin and into his body pushing at the front of your mind. You won’t be safe until you’ve been utterly consumed by him, until you’re safely tucked where no one can hurt you without going through him first. 

“Alpha,” You whine quietly, nuzzling your face against his chest. His clothes are in the way, a barrier against what you need. To feel him, to smell him fully again. 

“Easy.” He says, grabbing your hands as they shift towards the velcro straps of his tactical vest. “Let’s get back to the barracks first before we start that, sweetheart.” 

You don’t want to go back to the barracks. It’s not safe anymore. What if there’s someone waiting there for you to return? What if they get hurt because you don’t tell them what happened? What if you get hurt and cause them pain? 

“You’re alright.” John says, stroking the back of your head as he begins to ease your grip on him. “There’s a couple of muppets here who I think would like to greet you too.” 

Right. You’re so caught up in your alpha, you forgot the rest of your pack. You slowly allow yourself to be peeled away from John, Kyle right there to let you cling to him. 

And so you do. 

Your grip around him is just as tight, ignoring the uncomfortable ridges of his own vest. He holds you just as tightly, projecting his scent just a bit to try and calm you. Someone presses against your back, arms wrapping around both you and Kyle. The scent of citrus lined with beta invades your nose, Johnny squishing you into a sandwich between them. Your eyes squeeze shut as citrus and salty sea air blend together, the beta’s scents reaching deep into your brain to try and ease some of the tension in your body. 

They’re back. They’re safe. You’re safe. 

Now you just have to convince yourself of that fact. 

***

“How was she?” John asks as he approaches Dr. Keller. 

“Held it together longer than I thought she would.” She says. “Things took a turn yesterday afternoon. Shut herself in her room and wouldn’t come out. I don’t think she’s eaten anything since lunch yesterday either.” 

“We’ll get some food in her.” John says. “Thank you, for looking after her for us.” 

“Well, it is partly my job.” Dr. Keller shrugs. “Always happy to do it.” 

“Things will get easier, won’t they?” He asks. 

“Eventually. She’ll learn what coping mechanisms help and she’ll adapt.” 

“Hopefully at least one of us will be able to stay moving forward. I don’t like leaving her here alone.” He grimaces. 

“Separation is hard no matter what, especially with limited contact, on all parties involved.” She gives him a look. “I think the best thing you can do right now is just be together as a pack. Let those bonds heal and let her do what she needs.” 

“Thank you, doctor.” John says, shaking her hand. 

“Call me, if you need anything, as usual.” Dr. Keller says, watching his retreating back before getting into her car to make the short drive back to the medical center. 

John gets into the car waiting to take them back to the barracks, sitting next to Kyle who’s holding you straddling his lap, your face pressed into his neck. “That looks safe.” He remarks, even though they wouldn’t be going very fast, or very far. 

“Couldn’t get her to let go.” Kyle says, tightening his hold around you as the car begins moving. 

“You’re alright, sweetheart.” John says, rubbing your back gently. 

You turn your face to look at him, your eyes red from the numerous tears you’ve already shed, and the ones still trailing down your face. The guilt nearly makes him sick as he stares at you, feeling the slight tremble still from where his hand rests against your back. 

He’d never say it out loud, but he hates the fact they had to leave you, all four of them at once too. He’d fought, argued. He and Simon could have handled it on their own, even him and the two Sergeants would have been sufficient. Anything not to leave you by yourself during their first deployment. 

Despite his attempts, General Shepherd had been insistent that all four of them were necessary for this particular task. 

So, he had been forced to leave you behind on your own. It’s gone about as well as he expected, from the looks of it. He knew the separation would get to you eventually. The stress would grow to be too much. Every day he anticipated the news to come from Kate that you had distressed and your omega had taken over because he wasn’t there to help you. 

Every day he waited for the news that they’d lost you because the brass that put this initiative into place couldn’t understand why taking them all at once was a bad idea. 

Or maybe that was their plan all along. 

He couldn’t stop the conspiratorial thoughts running through his head as their mission dragged on. What if they were doing this on purpose? It wouldn’t be that strange to push the boundaries of what could be tolerated for the purpose of testing just how effective the initiative really could be. But pushing it like that so soon? Sure, he could rationalize it was possible. War could break out at any moment, which would require most military members to leave, to be separated from their packs for months or even years. His own team could be called out at any time for months working to eliminate a target and stop war from breaking out. 

Yet, he can’t help but feel there was something more, something deeper going on. What if they had called away for more nefarious reasons? What if getting you alone had been the reason behind General Shepherd’s insistence that all four of them were necessary for this particular task? He had refused to entertain those dark thoughts for too long, the fear of leaving you alone already itching in the back of his mind from the moment they boarded the plane to leave. 

He hadn’t been able to hide his relief at hearing your voice on the phone. Though you had sounded upset, and rightfully so, his worries had been lessened in knowing you were alright. You would tell them if something had happened. He knows you wouldn’t keep something that serious a secret. If someone had hurt you, or had tried to hurt you, you would tell one of them. 

Even though he trusts you, he does plan to speak to Dr. Keller more in depth later to ensure everything went as fine as she seemed to imply it did. Obviously their absence has been hard on you, but he needs to make sure you really will be alright, that you will be able to come back from the obvious distress this has caused you. 

***

You finally release your constricting hold on Kyle as the car pulls up outside the barracks. Even with them back, it still doesn't feel like home anymore, not after such sacred space was invaded so easily, so nonchalantly. Kyle climbs out of the car, setting you on your feet on the ground. You look between him and John, realizing Ghost and Johnny are still in the car. Your stomach falls as you realize what they're about to say, tears gathering in your eyes again.

“We still have some things we need to do.” John says, reaching towards you. 

You have the momentary urge to flinch from his touch, but you let his hand cup your cheek. “You're leaving me again.” You say, your voice breaking. 

John almost looks guilty. He almost looks upset by your visible turmoil. His hand drops from your cheek to your back, turning you towards the barracks. Your stomach twists as he guides you inside, the fear of someone being inside spiking. You know you're safe with John, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but you'd have to play dumb if they did catch someone inside. You’d have to act like you didn’t know someone had entered before, like you had been unaware of anything going on. That might almost be worse than telling them the truth. 

You inhale as he stops in front of your door, still closed from when you'd left with Dr. Keller. There's no chemical burn of scent blockers, just your scent in the air, and John's scent coming off him as he stands next to you. 

“We won't be long. Maybe an hour at most, and we'll only be across base. We'll come back and we can get lunch before our afternoon meeting. Then we'll just have reports to do, and you can sit in my office while I work on those, okay?” He says. 

Your brows pinch as you try to hold in your tears. You want to tell him, you want to reveal what happened, beg him not to leave you alone here again, but you can't. You can't face that shame, the disappointment you know he'll show on his face at the knowledge that you let that happen. You willingly left with a stranger without telling anyone. You let someone invade your pack's space so easily. They were gone for a week and you screwed everything up. 

“Tomorrow we'll spend the day together. All of us. I promise.” He says wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. 

Even though they're back, you still don't have them. 

You inhale shakily before nodding. “Yeah. Fine.”

John's thumb brushes your cheek for a moment before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

You watch his back retreat as he leaves the barracks, leaving you alone again. You think back to when they’d left you, watching his back as he boarded the plane to be taken from you. You stare at the door as the cars drive off, a cold chill running down your spine. What if General Shepherd is still here? What if they're going to meet with him? What if he tells them he met with you while they were gone and they had no idea? 

Maybe you should have been honest with them from the start. 

You stare at your closed door, your hands shaking. What if there's someone inside? What if someone is waiting to take their revenge for you destroying the cameras. What if they put new ones up? 

You should have opened the door while Price was here so you could have at least screamed when someone would hear you. You back away from your door slowly, deciding to wait in the rec room. At least there you might have a chance. You could break a window and run, or at least have a higher chance of making it to a door. 

Would anyone help you? Would anyone come if you screamed? What if they’re all in on it? 

You're shaking as you sink onto the couch, sitting so you can see into the hallway. You want to see them coming so you can prepare yourself, or at least give yourself a chance to make an escape before it’s too late. 

You run through all the things Ghost has taught you in your head as you sit and wait, the minutes dragging by painfully slow. You can feel every second, though that may just be the anxiety and fear pulsing within you. You wish you could sleep, you wish you could relax, you wish you could do anything to make the time go by faster, but yet you remain hypervigilant, staring so hard you flinch at every little shadow your brain convinces you is moving. 

You’re not sure how long you sit there, tense and coiled, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. It can’t be more than an hour as John promised, yet it feels like a lifetime before you hear movement. 

You hold your breath as the barracks door opens, boots thudding with every footstep coming down the hall. You nearly whimper when a figure rounds the corner, before you let out a sigh of relief. 

“Ready for lunch, kitten?” Johnny asks, standing in the doorway of the rec room. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, your hands still clenched into fists. You're breathing hard, your entire body tense. You know you're reaching dangerous territory. Any more panic, you may start distressing. What a welcome home for them, coming back to a distressed omega. They're probably exhausted, and here you are making a scene. 

Hands close around yours. Warm, calloused hands apply gentle pressure, slowly uncurling your fingers. Your hands are shaking, trembling just slightly. 

“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, kneeling in front of you. When he moved, you're not sure. 

“I-I'm not...” You start, your voice shaking. 

“Ye need tae eat.” He counters, as if he had read your mind, expected the answer.  

He's right. You're beginning to feel it gnawing in your stomach, something deeper than the anxiety. With all the stressing you've been doing, you know you need to eat something. Being hungry is not helping that any, either. 

“I don't want to go to the mess.” You say quickly, the words almost mushing together incoherently. “Too much.” 

Johnny sits back, staring at you for a moment before nodding in understanding. “Alright. That's fair. I'll let the lads know.”

He stands up, leaving you alone in the rec room again. You listen to his footsteps fade, the door opening and closing for a moment. You hold your breath, practically on the edge of your seat. There's no reason they would make you go to the mess. You've eaten in the barracks many times before. 

You blame your worry on your hunger. You know omegas don't do well when hungry. Omegas don't do well being uncomfortable in general. 

Saying these last few days have been uncomfortable for you is a bit of an oversimplification. 

Footsteps echo down the hallway, a familiar hulking figure approaching the rec room. You never thought there would come a time when you would feel relief upon seeing Ghost. Yet here you are, the tension easing from your shoulders as he steps into the rec room. 

“They're grabbing us food.” He says, moving to sit in his usual spot in the chair facing the door. He sighs as he sinks into the cushions, and you can only imagine how tired he must be. 

And here you are making things worse. 

“You're stressed.” He says, staring at you. His eyes are still painted black beneath his mask, adding to the eerie vibe coming off of him. You're beginning to understand why they call him Ghost. “Stinking up the barracks.” He says, pulling out his phone. 

“Oh.” You say quietly, sinking in on yourself as you sit there. “Sorry.” 

You pick nervously at your sweatshirt as you wait for the others to return, letting out a quiet sigh of relief as they enter the rec room, food in hand. 

Johnny sits you on his lap as you eat, making sure you get your fill, likely aware that you haven't eaten yet today thanks to Dr. Keller telling on you. It's quiet in the room as everyone eats, even the TV off. They all look tired and tense, and you can only imagine what happened during their time away. The things they did, the things they saw. You wonder how much blood is on their hands now, hands that have touched you, hands that are holding you. 

They can just go off and kill people and come back and act like nothing has happened. 

You could almost laugh at how psychotic it all sounds. 

This is your life now. This is your new normal. 

“We have a quick meeting. Shouldn't take too long.” John says as they stand, Johnny placing you gently on your feet. 

You tug at your sweatshirt, avoiding his gaze. They're leaving you again. They won't be far this time, but still. You just want to curl up in bed with them and lay there until you feel safe again. 

Tomorrow, John had said. Tomorrow they will be yours. 

It might have been easier if you hadn't been told they were coming home until tomorrow.

***

You tense under the blanket as the door closes, quiet footsteps approaching your position on the couch. There's a quiet sigh as a figure drops to a knee in front of you, their figure visible as a shadow beneath the blanket. 

“Can you breathe under there?” 

You slowly lower the blanket just enough to peek over the top of it. John is kneeling next to the couch, his brows furrowed in a frown. You're in his office, having shut yourself in there while they went into the meeting. John had made you swear not to go snooping as he’d let you inside. You had promised, as you still feel no desire to dig through the likely classified files that were locked in the cabinets and on his computer. Instead you had parked yourself on his couch, burrowing under a blanket that smelled faintly of petrichor and tobacco smoke. 

“There she is.” He says as you peek above the blanket, gently running a hand over the top of your head. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?” 

“You left me.” You say quietly, trying not to burst into tears and confess everything. 

“I know.” He says, wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. “But we came back, just like we promised.” 

He is right in that regard, yet you can’t help the tears as they slide down your cheeks. The ache in your chest that had started to build over the last few days is still present despite their return. Everything is wrong. They feel too far away, too distant. Nothing is safe anymore, nothing is sacred, and they’re just acting like everything is back to normal. 

“Would you like to kneel for me?” He asks, his thumb stroking your cheek. 

You’re tempted to say no. For the first time you feel wary of your alpha. What kinds of things would you admit in your dazed state? If he questioned you, would you give him enough to put together that something had happened and you’ve been trying to hide it from him? Maybe it would help, though. It would at least ease some of the tension that’s built up. Maybe it could pull you back from the edge of distress you’ve been dangling over for almost two days. Maybe he’ll accidentally scruff you and you can forget the whole thing happened. 

The dark thought sends a chill down your spine. 

“Okay.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit. 

John offers you a hand, helping you up off the couch. You don't want to let go of his hand, you don't want to be parted from him. The omega in the back of your mind is screaming at you to get close to him and stay there for the rest of time. If he leaves you again...you're not sure you can handle it. 

He settles in his desk chair, getting everything he needs ready. He'll work on his reports while you kneel, a familiar position, a familiar situation. You've done this before several times. You're not sure why you're suddenly nervous. 

You set the pillow down, dropping to your knees beside him. The chair creaks as he shifts slightly, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. You fight the urge to flinch, to move away as he gently strokes his hand over your hair. You've done this before, he's done this before. You're not sure why your heart is thudding in your chest. 

His hand slowly moves lower, slipping closer and closer to your neck. You can't help it as your shoulders come up, preventing him from gripping the back of your neck. He moves his hand away as you get defensive, his chair turning slightly as he leans down. 

“It's alright, sweetheart. It's just me.” He soothes you, his hand returning to the top of your head. “I know it's been a while, but I promise I remember what to do.” 

“Sorry, sorry.” You gasp out, trying to relax. “I don't...I don't know...”

You do know. Your brain keeps flashing back to General Shepherd, his hand tugging down your collar, so close to your neck. How easily he could have scruffed you, if he'd wanted to. You would have known if he had, but he could have done anything to you during the time he had control. 

“You're stressed, all worked up.” John says, still stroking the top of your head, trying to soothe you. “It's been a long week for all of us. It was a risk, sending all four of us at once. A stupid risk that shouldn't have been taken.”

You're pulled from your emotional state at the slight hint of anger in his voice. It hadn't taken you long to figure out they likely were all sent in order to get you alone. It would have been impossible to get you out of the barracks and put cameras up with even one of them here. Did he know about Shepherd's visit? Had he put two and two together and figured out they sent all four of them on purpose? You figured he'd be angrier if he knew about what you did, about what they did to you. He would be blazing a path straight to General Shepherd if your alpha knew he got so close to you, put you in that kind of situation. 

At least, you hope he would. There’s still that fear in the back of your mind, that worry that it was all a test and you’ve failed. Would they send you back to the institute? Would they break the bonds and send you to a different pack? Would they send you out on your own, leaving you to fend for yourself until some other alpha crossed your path and decided you were worth it? Does he know you’re lying to him, hiding the truth of what happened while he was away? Is he waiting for you to confess, biding his time to see how long you try to hide it? 

You want to tell him. You really do, but you can't bring yourself to get the words out. You can't bring yourself to confess here on your knees before your alpha. You feel guilty, like a sinner, yet the shame keeps the words trapped inside. 

He continues to soothe you, sliding his hand further down until he reaches your neck. You force yourself to relax, knowing you need this. You need your alpha to take control. You need him to ease the heavy weight on your shoulders, even if he doesn't know what he's lifting. 

You close your eyes as his fingers press into your neck, your brain quieting to a hum as you begin to slip into the back of your mind. You feel the rush of endorphins as your brain begins to calm itself, quieting the storm that's been raging for almost a week. You begin to go numb, relaxing into John's hold as he eases you into a quiet, meditative state. He begins to work on his reports as he holds you, your mind floating off somewhere else, somewhere safer where no one can break in and hurt you, somewhere where the barracks are still secure and safe and your pack never left.

Somewhere where there's no initiative, and your pack picked you because they wanted you, because you were a good omega who did as she was told and didn't make stupid mistakes that put everyone in danger. 

The last of the tension leaves your body, your mind distant from the present moment. You're safe with your alpha. He'd never let anything happen to you. None of your pack would let anything happen to you.

The thought continues to repeat in your head like a mantra as you relax, held up by the strong pillar that is your alpha. 

***

“Report's done, Captain.” Kyle says, placing the stack of papers on John's desk. 

“Thanks.” John sighs, grabbing them. 

Kyle turns to look at you, fast asleep on the couch. “You want me to take her?” He asks, the formality easing between them as they settle into being a pack and not a task force on duty anymore. 

John stares at you, curled up on his lumpy old couch. It’s getting late, or at least it feels that way. You’ve been out, sleeping peacefully on his couch since he eased you out of your kneeling position. You’d clung to him tightly, and for a moment he’d considered holding you, letting you sit with him as you dozed, but he knows he can’t risk you seeing something you shouldn’t. So he’d eased you onto the couch, having to peel your hands away from his shirt. He’d nearly given up and let you keep hold of his shirt before you finally relaxed and released him. 

“Would probably be more comfortable.” He rubs his eyes, feeling the call of sleep himself. He wonders how much you managed to sleep while they were gone. You look tired, though you’ve been looking tired since your heat ended. He needs to rest himself, but he wants to get these reports done so he can keep his promise for tomorrow. “I'll be in there soon.”

“Don't work too hard.” Kyle says, moving to lift you off the couch. 

“No promises.” 

Kyle shakes his head before scooping you up off the couch, blanket and all. You’re still sound asleep as he carries you, pausing in the hallway for a moment. He had just been instinctually going to his room, but would you be more comfortable in your own room? You probably have spent the last week shut inside your space. It might be nice to spend some time somewhere else. 

He takes you into his room, laying you on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable. He needs to shower and throw his clothes in the wash, but he doesn’t want to leave you and risk you waking up without someone there. You’re sleeping deeply, though, not even stirring as he tucks the blanket up higher around you. He doesn't want to crawl into bed smelling like gunpowder and sweat. That might throw you off too. 

He takes the risk, knowing he can do both tasks quickly. No more than twenty minutes to get himself clean and his dirty clothes in the wash, as he prays you stay asleep and won't start panicking if you wake in a strange place. He had sensed how close you had been to distress, how tense you had been when he held you in the car. It’s been a hard week for you, even harder than it had been for them. 

He breathes out a quiet sigh of relief as he finds you still asleep when he returns to his room. You haven't moved at all, still tucked under the blanket from John's office. He gets himself changed and moisturized, rubbing some cream on the bruises that dot his skin. He's going to be sore tomorrow, they all will be, but he knows they won't be doing much. John had already told them tomorrow will be dedicated to spending time with you and helping you recover from the stress of them being gone. He’s silently glad for the break, knowing it could only be a few days before they get called out again. 

John had also told him he’d be pushing harder for one of them to stay whenever he can. He’s not taking this risk again, not if it can be avoided. 

Kyle’s pulling on his sweatpants when you inhale sharply. You're sitting up straight on his bed, eyes wide as you look around in fear. They’re hazy, confusion settling into your mind after going from John’s office to Kyle’s room after kneeling. 

“Hey, hey. It's alright.” Kyle says, moving over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge so he’s in your line of sight. “You're just in my room.”

“Kyle?” You whisper, clarity returning to your gaze as you stare at him. 

“I'm here.” He says. “Just went to take a shower and clean up.”

“Where's John?” You ask, tears gathering in your eyes. 

“Still working on things.” He says, cupping your face. “He'll be in eventually.”

The tears fall from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks. They wet his thumbs as he strokes your skin, your body trembling slightly as you sniffle. 

Something’s wrong. He's known it since you latched onto him on the tarmac. The way you'd held onto him like he might disappear, how you looked almost angry when John told you they still had things to do, the way your scent had filled the barracks, bitter with fear and stress. 

Something’s up, something you're not letting them in on. But, to be fair, they had just left you for a week, up and abandoned you to go play heroes. He wouldn't blame you for not telling them anything. The bonds have weakened. He can feel it, beyond just his natural beta senses. 

“What can I do?” He asks quietly, trying to project his scent a bit to help calm you. He doesn't want you distressing, not after holding it together for so long. 

“I...I need...” You inhale shakily, still trembling in his hold. “I don't know.” You whine, the tears falling faster now. 

He pulls you against his chest, holding you as you cry. He feels the tugging in his chest, sympathy for you and what you must be feeling, along with the guilt of knowing they caused this. They did this just with their absence. 

An idea begins to form in his mind as he holds you, something his family used to do when he was younger. 

He pulls away from you, standing up. “Come on. I have an idea.” 

He strips the blankets from his bed before pulling the mattress off the frame. He drags it to the door and out into the hallway before heading down to John's room. You follow behind him, watching him as he opens the door to John’s room, dragging the mattress in and dropping it on the floor. 

“Stay here.” He tells you, heading back out into the hallway.

“What're ye doin’?” Johnny asks, sticking his head out of his door. 

“Grab your mattress and Simon and meet me in Price's room.” Kyle says as he heads down the hallway, ignoring Johnny's further questioning as he makes for John’s office. 

He doesn't bother knocking, walking right in. John blinks at him from behind the desk, and for a moment Kyle wonders if he'd fallen asleep sitting up. It wouldn't be the first time. 

“Come on.” Kyle says, moving to stand in front of his desk. “Finish those tomorrow.”

“They're important, I have to get them done asap.” John counters. 

“Yeah, well I have something more important.” He leans forward at John's questioning stare. “Your omega needs you.” 

John stares at his beta for a moment, and Kyle can see the gears turning in his head, the debate happening, the conflict in his mind. He so rarely sees his alpha, his captain so indecisive for so long. He's usually so quick to act, analyzing a situation and making a decision in mere seconds. 

If only you knew the things you've done by simply existing in their lives. 

John closes the file on his desk, slipping it into the drawer before locking it. Kyle fights the triumphant grin threatening to form on his face as John stands from his chair after shutting his computer off. Kyle makes his way back down the hallway, John following behind after locking his office door. Kyle stops at his room, grabbing his comforter before heading for John’s room. 

Johnny had obviously gotten the idea of what Kyle had in mind, his mattress and John's laid out side by side so the three make one giant bed for them on the floor. He’s already laid out his own comforter and Simon’s, as well as John’s on the mattresses. They probably wouldn’t need blankets for long with their body heat, but the blend of scents will hopefully begin to ease the tempest raging in your mind. 

You’ve parked yourself in the corner, watching it all happen. You seem so small, so lost, so out of place. It's not all that different from when you'd arrived in their lives. Has being gone for a week really reverted things so drastically for you? Has your stress broken the bonds so much that you feel like a stranger amongst them again? 

Kyle steps over the mattresses, approaching you slowly. You look up from where you had been staring off into space, blinking up at him. Your eyes are still red and watery from crying, your arms clutching one of your stuffed bears against your chest. It’s the one John had scented for you, back when they were trying to get you to nest. He wonders if you’ve nested since they left, if that urge is still there, or if that too has faded. 

Kyle doesn’t often feel angry at his job. Not anymore. He doesn’t often question it. It’s what he signed up for, and he does it because someone has to. He chose this life, so he does his best to be a good soldier, to follow orders. Yet, as he stares down at you, he can’t help but feel anger bristling in the back of his mind. He tries to blame it on his instincts, on the fact that a member of his pack is so upset, so distressed at something that’s happened, and he doesn't know what to do to help. 

Yet he knows they were the cause of it, even if it wasn’t their choice directly. Something happened because of them. He tries to rationalize it. This is an experiment, a test to see how well packs will do with omegas, if it has any effect on how well they can do their jobs, if it makes them stronger, or if it weakens them. Those in charge had obviously put little regard in for how it would affect the omegas. They couldn’t have known how you would react, how badly all of them leaving would affect you. Or maybe they did know, and they simply didn’t care.. Perhaps you weren’t the focus of their study, but you were still a variable, you were still an important piece of this puzzle. 

How can they be more effective if their omega is struggling because of their absence? How can they be expected to function like a team now knowing leaving behind their omega will only cause distress for all of them? 

Kyle takes a deep breath, pushing back the anger and the emotions whirling in his own mind. He needs to focus on you right now, focus on helping you relax, helping you get back to where you were before they left you. He’s doing the best he can do right now for you, giving you what you need, even if you don’t realize it’s what you need yet. 

He holds out his hand to you, staying still as you stare at it. It takes you a moment before you slowly begin to move, slipping one of your hands into his. He guides you to the mattress in the middle, Johnny’s mattress, easing you down to sit on it. You glance around as Johnny and John toss pillows onto the mattresses haphazardly, making sure everything is perfect. It’s not a pretty nest, he’d hardly call it a nest at all, but he knows nesting is not necessarily all about looks. It’s about feeling, and right now, he knows you need to feel safe and secure. 

John quickly changes into more comfortable clothes as Kyle stretches out on the mattress, opening his arms to you. You curl up against his side, resting your cheek against his chest. You press your face into his skin, inhaling for a moment before you settle, slowly beginning to relax in his hold. 

Simon enters the room as John settles on Kyle’s other side, closing the door behind him and locking it, securing the five of you inside. Johnny settles on the other side of you, pressing up close against your back. He pulls one of the comforters up around the three of you before he tosses an arm around you, resting his hand on Kyle’s stomach, sandwiching you between the two betas again. 

Simon stands over the makeshift nest, staring down at the four of you. He’s obviously the most uncomfortable with the situation, and still a bit miffed from your lack of greeting on the tarmac. It was his own fault for being so closed off with you for so long. You had instinctively sought out the members of the pack you felt the most connected to, the most comfortable with in your time of such great stress. 

“Aw come on, ye big bastard, get in the bed.” Soap says, snapping Simon out of his reverie. 

Simon shuts the light off, bathing them in near darkness. You tense for a moment as the lights go off before you slowly relax again. Kyle listens to your breaths even out as Simon gets comfortable on the mattress behind Johnny, the four of them settling in around you. 

It's already warm in the room but none of them would even think of complaining. They’re too focused on surrounding you with their scent and their protection, the very thing you need the most. 

NEXT ->

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[punkshort]

Swept Away | Chapter 10: Turn the Tide

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: A devastating discovery leads you back into Joel's arms. But do you both have what it takes to make it work?

Chapter Warnings: language, sugar baby/daddy dynamics, mountains of angst, miscarriage (discussions and descriptions included, not terribly graphic, blood is mentioned, please skip if this is triggering for you), hurt/comfort, fluff, brief mention of vomit, anxiety, reader has long-ish hair, smut (18+ MDNI), fingering, protected piv sex, secrets are revealed and explain some underlying anxieties/trust issues

WC: 16.6K

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

"Jesus Christ, this place is doing a number on my allergies," Celine whined when she opened your apartment door to find you curled up on your couch with a heating pad. She looked around the room and shook her head, dropping her purse and keys on your floor because every single flat surface was being taken up by flowers. Flowers Joel had been sending you every fucking day since he dropped you off. "How can you stand it in here?"

"I can't," you muttered, staring listlessly at the television while she opened up the windows as far as they would go. "Been meaning to look into places where I could donate them but I'm in the middle of the worst period of my fucking life."

"Yeah, I can see that," she replied before collapsing in a huff on the other end of your couch. Her eyes skimmed your coffee table, filled with pain killers, water and tea before she asked, "Have you eaten?"

You nodded and pointed to the empty bowl under the table. "I heated up some soup."

"Maybe you should call your doctor, are your periods usually this bad?" she asked before picking up the dirty dishes and heading to your sink.

"No," you groaned, rolling onto your back with a wince. "I'm on the pill. They're usually a breeze."

"Then you should definitely call," she said over her shoulder. "Can't hurt to get checked out."

"Yeah? With what health insurance?" you countered angrily as you forced yourself to sit up.

"Still no luck finding a job?"

You shook your head then sneezed, scowling at the roses nearby like it was their fault.

"Then use some of the fifty fucking thousand dollars he gave you and see a goddamn doctor!" she exclaimed after drying your bowl and putting it away. "I know you don't want to use it but it doesn't matter, he won't know either way."

Fifty grand. He had wired you fifty grand instead of twenty. You spent a week going back and forth with your bank, making them reject the funds over and over until you finally caved because you couldn't stand to waste any more time on the phone with them over it. You had decided you would donate it like he suggested, but you never figured out where. Between that and all the flowers he kept sending, you couldn't decide if you should be flattered or pissed off.

On that particular day, with your uterus trying to extract itself from your body, you chose to be pissed off.

As if on cue, your buzzer rang and you could have screamed at the top of your lungs, already knowing who it was. Celine got to the intercom first and pressed the button.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, it's Jim, got today's flowers."

You grabbed a pillow and screamed into it, deciding to give into your urge.

"Alright, buzzing you up."

You heard her press the other button and hold it a few seconds before unlocking your door and leaving it cracked.

"He's in love with you," she said matter-of-factly from the door.

"I'm going to fucking kill him," you replied, making her laugh.

A light tap on the door came a few minutes later and Celine pushed it open to greet Jim, an older man with a white beard that reminded you of Santa, before she signed for the flowers.

"Jim, don't you have someone you could give these to instead?" you asked from the couch. He shook his head and grinned before handing over the vase of peonies, dahlias and roses.

"You know I can't do that."

You made a face and collapsed into the back of your couch.

"Maybe if you just call him, it'll end," Jim offered, "although I don't mind. You're keeping the shop afloat at this point," he joked.

"That's exactly what he wants," you replied. He shrugged and gave you a wave with a see you tomorrow, then disappeared down the hall. Celine closed the door and looked around the room for a clear spot before giving up and setting them on the ground.

"Maybe flower guy was right. Maybe you should call him."

"He's just used to getting his way. He can pull this shit with anyone else but I'm not gonna give in," you told her while simultaneously picking up your phone, fingers tapping angrily at your screen. She grinned and found her spot back on the couch.

"What are you doing?"

"Texting Joel and telling him to knock it the fuck off," you growled.

Celine tipped her head back and laughed. "Same thing! You're talking to him! You're giving him exactly what he wants."

"Okay, so I'm not perfect! What else is new?" you snapped after shooting off a text to Joel that said stop with the fucking flowers, I mean it.

Before Celine could reply, your phone vibrated in your lap.

Does this mean you're willing to see me? Or should I switch to chocolate?

You frowned and Celine knowingly tilted her head to the side.

"Girl. Come on. Hear him out. Maybe if you just meet up once and let him talk, he'll stop. I've never seen a guy text back as quickly as him, and he's got an actual successful business to run! Do you have a magic pussy or something, what the hell did you do to this guy?"

You cracked a smile for the first time in days. You didn't go into much detail with her since you came back. She knew you slept together and she knew he broke your heart, but everything else remained a mystery. And because she knew you would tell her in your own time, she never asked.

"I just think he's not used to hearing the word no," you told her, ignoring his text and setting your phone down on your coffee table.

"Or he's madly in love with you and doesn't know how to handle it," she countered with a raised eyebrow.

You opened your mouth to object, to remind her for the fourth time that Joel didn't fall in love with anyone, when a sharp pain shot through your legs and you doubled over with a deep groan. Celine lunged forward to rub your upper back, her smile long gone when she saw how you badly you were struggling.

"That's it. I'm calling your doctor," she said, snatching your phone from the table to scroll through your contacts.

You took a deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth, not bothering to stop her when she dialed the phone.

You sat on the exam table, a loud and irritating white piece of paper separating your thighs from the padding as your doctor sat before you, gently explaining what was happening while a low ringing began to echo in your head.

Miscarriage... hCG levels... four or five weeks... bleeding will end soon.

You just sat there in complete shock, a dumbstruck look on your face as she continued to explain it was nothing you did or didn't do, that it's extremely common, that you would likely go on to have a perfectly healthy pregnancy if you wanted. Then she said your name softly and your eyes refocused onto her bright blue ones behind her wire rimmed glasses.

"Do you have any questions?" she asked with a comforting hand on your knee.

Those glasses didn't suit her face at all, they were too round. Why didn't anyone ever tell her?

"Uh," you croaked before clearing your throat. "I'm... I'm on the pill. How did this happen?"

"It's ninety nine percent effective but it's lower if you skip days or forget to take them at the same time. Did that happen last month at all?"

Last month. When you were on the island with Joel. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Um, well, I was in Fiji last month," you began, fingers twisting anxiously in your lap. You still only had a pink paper gown to cover you after your exam. You felt so exposed and raw that your skin hurt.

"Did you account for the time change?" she asked. Your eyes fluttered shut and you dropped your chin to your chest.

"No." How stupid. Why didn't that occur to you? "I might have forgotten a day here and there, too. There was one weekend we were away and I forgot-" you stopped yourself and pinched the bridge of your nose. "Doesn't matter, I guess."

She patted your knee again and gave it a little squeeze.

"It's alright, you're going to be okay," she assured you. You nodded and swallowed thickly before looking back up.

"I know. I just... I thought if this ever happened..." you trailed off as you struggled to find the right words. "I thought I'd feel..." you couldn't finish your sentence but she seemed to understand anyway.

"It's completely normal. You didn't even know until it was already over. You're probably just in shock, it's a lot to take in," she said before kicking off the floor so her stool would roll over to the wall that held various pamphlets. She plucked a few from the hard plastic holders and held them out to you. "These will help explain more of what you're going through, but if you have any questions or if you're finding you need a little extra help to get through this, please give the office a call. We have a twenty four hour service, they'll connect me with you, day or night."

You thanked her softly and stared blankly at the pamphlets while she gathered her things before slipping out of the room, giving you some privacy to get dressed.

It was surreal, driving back home, burdened with this brand new knowledge, this thing you had no idea how to process. Shouldn't you be sad? Shouldn't you grieve the loss in some way? Maybe your doctor was right. Maybe you were in shock.

As you walked up to your building, a familiar olive green truck rumbled up to the curb, tapping out a light beep in greeting and shaking you out of your funk.

"Oh, hey," you said, smiling weakly at Jim when he jumped out with a wave.

"Good timing," he replied before climbing into the back of the truck to hand you a teddy bear with a little rose pinned to its chest. "He's switching it up," Jim said, smile falling when he saw the look on your face. "Hey, everything okay?"

You nodded quickly and reached for the pen to scribble your name. "Yeah, sorry, just tired."

He pressed his lips into a thin line before taking the pen back and giving you one last look.

"Well, get some rest, yeah? Need some help getting up to your place?"

"No, thank you, I'm good," you told him sincerely, then gave him a little wave before heading up the stairs to your building. He called out his usual see you tomorrow and you forced a smile before disappearing inside.

You supposed it was good you hadn't found a job yet. At least you could waste away in your bed until this strange feeling passed and you could process everything.

After you changed back into comfortable clothes with the plan to find some shitty movie to zone out to, you heard your doorbell buzz. With a confused frown, you shuffled back out into the living room, wondering who it could be. Jim had already dropped off Joel's daily gift and Celine had a key.

For one stupid, foolish moment you thought it might be Joel. Like he had somehow, from across the city and with absolutely no knowledge as to what was going on, found out about the miscarriage and came to scoop you into his arms and tell you everything would be okay.

The mere thought caused tears to sting your eyes and you quickly blinked them away, chalking it up to hormonal changes and the emotional morning.

"Yes?" you called weakly through the speaker.

A man's voice replied with your name posed as a question, followed by got a delivery here for you.

You buzzed him in and curiously craned your neck out into your hall, chewing your lower lip until the elevator dinged and a man dressed in an all brown uniform emerged carrying a large, flat, square package.

When he approached, he confirmed your name again before handing you something to sign, which you did blindly as your focus was still on the box at his feet.

"Where's it from?" you asked, stepping to the side so he could set it against your wall.

"Uh..." he trailed off, distracted momentarily by all the flowers, and then squinted at the paper you just signed. "Fiji Islands. That's pretty rad. Hope it's a vacation," he joked before tucking the clipboard under his arm and exiting back out into the hallway.

It took about ten seconds after he left for you to realize what it was, yet you still shakily opened the box, your palm cupping your mouth when the bubble wrap fell to the floor and Ellie's painting sat before you. You crumpled to the ground and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the memories of pink seashells and stolen kisses and warm brown eyes and whispers of my girl. But it was staring you in the face. The painting that spoke to you before you even understood what it was saying, the painting Joel bought for you without a second thought, before you slept together, before it all fell apart.

Hot tears trickled down your face when you fumbled for your phone, your thumb hovering over the call button next to his name.

Just do it. Just call him. You wanted to hear his voice. You wanted him to hold you close and tell you it wasn't your fault. You wanted him to stay with you until the blood and the agony passed and everything from the past few hours became a horrible, distant memory.

Perhaps the shock was beginning to wear off.

At the last second, you scrolled up and tapped Celine's name instead. When she heard the broken sound of your voice, she dropped what she was doing to rush over, not even asking for details until you had stopped crying on her shoulder. You told her about your appointment. About the painting. About the seashells. About Brooks. About everything until your voice was raw and your face felt swollen and hot from crying.

She tucked you into bed and laid curled up next to you. She softly told you about her own miscarriage she had when she was nineteen. She told you the pain would go away, that the void inside would eventually fill again. But halfway through some movie she had found that mostly served as background noise, she turned to you and said the words you needed to hear. Like you were waiting for someone else's permission to give in.

"You gotta tell him, babe."

You couldn't even remember how you got there, standing in front of his hotel five days later, body now mostly recovered and fueled by caffeine from the shop three blocks away. It felt like you were drawn to him, like you weren't even making your own decisions, telling yourself you were just going to take a short walk to enjoy the weather and clear your head after downing an iced coffee.

Certainly if you had known you would have been walking through the doors of his lobby, giving the same man from that first day in the same pristine black suit a nervous smile before making your way across the room, sneakers squeaking on the floor as you walked, you would have prepared a little better.

It was quiet. The concierge looked bored and tapped her pen on a pad of paper, chin resting in her fist as she pretended to work. Elevator cars silently whirred up and down on both sides of you, the glass walls allowing you a sneak peek at guests going up to their rooms.

You cleared your throat when you approached reception, your mouth opening to give them your name when a man's surprised voice said it for you.

Swiveling around, you locked eyes with a dark haired man wearing thick rimmed glasses and a black bow tie over his tight fitting white shirt and tailored pants. You gave him a small smile, but your confusion must have been obvious because he blinked and shook his head before stepping forward and offering you his hand.

"I'm Liam," he began, "Joel's assistant."

"Oh!" you exclaimed, shaking his hand while the gears slowly turned in your head. "Oh, so you're the one who bought all the clothes and stuff."

Liam grinned and nodded, dropping your hand so he could wrap both arms around the pad-folio pressed to his chest.

"I had pictures to work with when I was choosing colors. You know, so I could best compliment your hair and skin tone. I hope you liked everything."

"Yes! Oh, yes, everything was beautiful, thank you so much," you said hurriedly, then lowered your voice when you realized you were echoing. "Uh, is he in?"

Liam's shoulders sagged and he rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Yes, thank god," he breathed, waving you over to an elevator and pressing the button. "I was afraid you were just here picking something up. I'm so glad you want to see him, he's been -"

You frowned when Liam seemed to realize he was saying too much and he cut himself off, lips pursing as he stared at the unopened elevator.

"What?"

Liam shook his head and shrugged right when the doors slid open. He beckoned for you to enter first before following, pressing the pad of his finger into a scanner and tapping a button. Only when the doors shut did he turn back to you.

"He's been worse than usual. I think he's upset about whatever happened," he explained, then waved his hands in the air and added, "I mean, he didn't tell me anything, but I'm assuming something happened because he's picking out flowers every single morning and asking me to have them delivered."

"He's been picking them out?" you repeated.

Liam just nodded. "It's none of my business, but he's never had me do this for anyone before. And I've worked for him for ten years," he said dramatically, raising his thick eyebrows at you knowingly.

"Oh," you said softly, dropping your gaze to the floor.

The elevator chimed and the doors slid open, leading you out into the same hallway you walked down over two months ago when you first met. Butterflies instantly bloomed in your stomach as you followed behind Liam, keeping your gaze low while you tried to regulate your breathing. You had no idea how you were going to tell him, no rehearsed speech, nothing.

"He's in a meeting right now, but it'll be over in," Liam glanced at his watch, "twenty minutes. I'll take you to his office and let him know you're here when he's done."

You nodded and turned the corner, Joel's office already in view when you walked by the executive conference room. It looked the same as it did in your memory, the wall that bordered the hallway made of glass and inside, a long table with high back leather chairs. Only this time, people were inside having what appeared to be a very important meeting. Men and women in suits filled the table. Papers, mugs of coffee and laptops were scattered everywhere. The flat screen televisions projected extremely big numbers connected to various cities, presumably the locations of The Parador, but what made you stumble was seeing Joel at the head of the table.

His black tie was loosened around his neck, suit coat draped over the back of his chair as he stared at the screen, then his phone, gaze bouncing back and forth while next to him, a sweaty looking man gripping a laptop with one flat, shaky hand, spoke about the numbers.

You unconsciously slowed, unable to tear your eyes away when Joel stood up. His gaze was pinned to something on his phone, which now rested on the table. He was still listening to the man on his left but the more he spoke, the angrier Joel looked. You saw his nostrils flare and his jaw set while he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, the irritation rolling off his tight shoulders until he finally snapped.

Their voices were muffled, but you probably wouldn't have been able to understand what they were talking about, anyway. Joel's brows were knit together, lips curled into a sneer as he spoke loudly enough to the group for you to hear the deep timber of his voice from where you stood in the hall.

Liam didn't say a word, allowing you to come to a standstill and watch Joel with a sly smirk from a few feet away.

You couldn't explain the feeling you had as you watched him, never before seeing him at work with your own two eyes. You knew he was important, obviously, but there was just something about the way he commanded the room, the way full grown men practically cowered when he began to pace around, his finger pointing at the sweaty man and then the screen. It made your heart race and your lips part as your breathing grew shallow, like you were in a trance.

And then Joel spun around, his eyes locking on yours through the glass like he suddenly sensed your presence, and the room went silent. His back instantly straightened and his brows relaxed and then a moment later he was storming towards the glass door.

"Joel?" you heard one of the men at the table call out when the door flung open.

"We're done, meeting's over," he tossed back over his shoulder. If you could have looked away from him, you would have seen the relieved look on all their faces as they began to hastily gather their things.

He stalked up to you, slowing to a stop when he was a couple feet away, then scanned you up and down, like he couldn't believe his eyes.

Neither of you spoke. You just stared at one another, hearts thundering wildly in your chests.

"Hey," he finally breathed, afraid if he spoke any louder he might scare you off.

"Hi," you replied timidly. Your gaze flickered around to Liam, to other people pretending to work within earshot, and to the people filing out of the conference room before meeting his eye again.

He finally snapped out of it and held out an arm, ushering you towards the direction of his office.

"C'mon," was all he said, and you quickly scurried down the hall with Joel hot on your heels.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, tea?" Liam called. You could hear the smile in his voice before you turned around and said, "Water would be nice."

"I got water in here," Joel said gruffly, his hand gently grazing your lower back. He turned around to Liam and said, "No interruptions," before closing the door behind you both.

You looked around his office, everything just how you remembered it. Massive mahogany desk, dark green couch and chair near the well stocked bar, the entire room surrounded by bookshelves, awards, and various decor items, but no picture frames. How didn't you notice that before?

"Have a seat," Joel said, sliding past to get you ice water from the bar. You sunk down into the green couch, feeling just as nervous as the last time you were there.

"Thank you," you said when he placed the glass on a coaster. He nodded and seemed to take a moment before deciding to sit in the chair, giving you your space.

"I'm glad you came," he said, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. Your eyes dropped to your shoes. Your dirty sneakers pressing into his expensive carpet and your frayed jeans... you couldn't even remember the last time they were washed.

"Yeah," you replied, voice sounding nothing like your own. You reached for your water and took a sip before carefully setting it down, fearful of even one drop landing on the rug or table. "I'm sorry. You were in a meeting, I would have waited."

"Fuck 'em," he said, and your eyes rose to find his. God, they looked so soft and kind, the way the sunlight hit them took your breath away. "Would rather talk to you than any of 'em," he added with a little smile.

"I got the painting," you told him. "It's beautiful, thank you," you added warmly, then frowned a bit when he excitedly stood to hurry behind his desk.

"That reminds me, I got somethin' else for you."

"Oh, Joel, please don't tell me it's more flowers," you begged, and he laughed lightly before bringing over a small black shopping bag. There was a designer label stamped on the side and you frowned.

"It ain't that - just open it," he insisted, handing you the bag before sitting back down on the edge of his seat.

Hesitantly, you peered inside, and what awaited you tore your heart in two.

"Joel..."

He smiled. He couldn't help himself.

"Was gonna leave it by your door or somethin' later," he said, his brown eyes sparkling as you lifted one of many pink seashells out of the bag to get a closer look.

"When did you -"

"Had to go back for a couple days and sign some paperwork," he explained. Your eyebrows pulled together and tears welled in your eyes as you stared down at the beautiful seashells he had collected, all for you.

"Thank you," you whispered, gingerly setting it back into the bag and placing it at your feet.

"You're welcome," he replied, his soft tone matching yours.

Alright. It was now or never.

You took a deep breath, rubbing your palms anxiously over the tops of your thighs, but before you could get a word out, he spoke again.

"I wanna tell you everythin'," he said. All the air left your lungs and you swallowed tightly. "I mean it. I'll tell you everythin', and not 'cause you want me to, 'cause I want to. I've been doin' alotta thinkin', and -"

"Joel," you interrupted. He scratched his eyebrow with his thumb and shook his head.

"Just hear me out."

"No, Joel, I need to tell you something," you said. He must have heard something change in your voice because he stopped talking. He searched your face for any indication of what was to come, but of course came up empty.

"Okay," he said slowly. He watched your fingers fidget nervously in your lap and suddenly you couldn't make eye contact with him anymore.

"I don't really know how to say this," you began.

Oh fuck, you've met someone else, was his first thought.

"I, uh," then you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your lips into a tight line and panic seized his throat.

Something was wrong.

"It's okay," he said soothingly. He tried to inch forward but if he moved any more he would fall off the damn chair. "Go ahead, darlin'. What's goin' on?"

One single tear slid down your cheek and he swore he stopped breathing when you said the words I had a miscarriage.

"What?" he whispered, pain and confusion clouding his face.

You opened your eyes and forced yourself to look at him.

"I had a miscarriage and I just thought you had a right to know."

Your voice trembled and cracked as you forced the words out and he couldn't hold back any longer. He stood and rushed to your side, just like you always knew he would, just like you wanted. He enveloped you in his arms and pressed his lips against the top of your head. He rocked you back and forth, strong arms curled around your midsection, and you melted. You melted into him and didn't even try to fight it. For the past week, hell, for the past month, it was all you wanted.

"When?" he choked out. You circled your arms around him and your legs were suddenly pulled across his lap. He smelled so good, like that cologne you never could identify but was so distinctly him. You dragged in a deep breath, unaware of the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"About a week ago."

Joel's grip around you tightened.

"You shoulda called me, baby. I woulda been there."

"I know," you sniffled. You rubbed the back of your hand under your nose and tried to breathe deep. "I know. But I didn't know it even happened until I went to the doctor."

You told him the whole story. Told him how you thought it was a bad period, how Celine called your doctor, how she explained what likely happened and that it was your own stupid fucking fault for messing up your pill.

"It ain't your fault," he told you, his voice reverberating in his chest. You closed your eyes and leaned into him, fingers grappling at the fabric of his shirt.

"You're not mad?" you whimpered.

"Baby, please," he begged, "'Course I ain't mad. Don't go carryin' this 'round. Don't carry that guilt. If it was meant to be, it would be, alright?"

Your tears flowed, then, unstoppable as they barreled down your cheeks. Your sobs could probably be heard from the other side of the door but you didn't care. Joel continued to hold you, cradle you, and hum soothingly against the top of your head until your tears slowed and your breath grew ragged.

"Are you okay?" he asked after you quieted down. His hand was flat against your back, rubbing wide circles as you continued to cling to him.

"Yeah, I think so," you said truthfully. "I just didn't expect it and then with the hormone change, it all kind of hit me at once, you know?"

"Yeah," he answered, "yeah, I get it. Is there anythin' I can do? Anythin' you need?"

You shook your head, biting down hard on your lip so you didn't say I just need you.

It seemed as though maybe he read your mind, or maybe he really had been giving things alot of thought because the next thing he said was, "I wanna do this right."

You felt the next wave of tears coming so you burrowed further into him, pressing your face against his neck, breathing him in and letting him slowly put you back together with each comforting stroke of his hand.

"Lemme do this right, sweetheart, please. Tell me how to fix it."

You didn't have the answer. Your eyes were dry and burning from all the tears you had just spilled and you felt completely drained. Every muscle in your body felt weak and useless, the last thing you wanted to do was think.

You continued to sit in silence, the only sound coming from the gold mantle clock slowly ticking away the seconds and some very faint murmuring when groups of people would walk by Joel's office. You closed your eyes, encased in his warmth, and let your mind drift back to everything that went wrong, wondering how you would do things differently if you could go back in time. Then you remembered something Joel had said on the plane and your eyes snapped open.

"What if we started over?"

His thumb, which was drawing slow, comforting circles over your arm, paused.

"You'd - yeah," he agreed, sounding a little breathless, "yeah, I think that's a good idea."

You sat up, untangling yourself from him so you could sit properly on the couch. You pulled your legs from his lap and tucked them underneath you before sticking out your hand and reintroducing yourself with a shaky smile.

He gave you a little grin before taking your hand in his, eyes glistening when he said, "Joel Miller."

It was impossible to keep the smile from your face when you heard the buzzer, followed by Joel's deep voice letting you know he was there to pick you up for your date.

Your "first" date.

With a skip in your step, you trotted to the elevator, tapped your foot impatiently all the way down, and practically ran out into the lobby with excitement. You caught yourself at the last second, making sure you looked more collected and cool than you really felt before pushing open the front doors.

And there he stood, in all his glory, at the bottom of your building's stone steps. His hands were in the pockets of his expensive black suit, and he grinned when he saw you for the first time, a stark contrast from the last time you each stood in those spots.

"You look beautiful," he murmured when you got closer, eyes dropping appreciatively to take in the light blue floral dress you chose, then bent over to plant a kiss on your cheek. The way his scruff tickled your skin had a wave of goosebumps flashing over your arms, making you shiver.

"Thank you," you said, scooting into the backseat of his car when he held the door open for you.

"Hi, Richie."

"Hey, honey," he replied with a smile and wink in the review mirror.

Joel rounded the back of the car and slipped in beside you, then gave Richie a nod to start driving.

"Wait, where are we going?" you asked as you buckled your seatbelt.

"Got a reservation at this French restaurant that just opened up. Supposed to be impossible to get in but, well..." he smirked a little and shrugged, letting his sentence trail off.

"Uh, I was actually thinking of something else."

Joel gave you a curious look. "Like what?"

"Like... maybe getting pizza at Sal's and then catching the 9:45 showing of Shadow Strike?" you offered with a cheesy smile. Joel laughed, eyes crinkling as he tipped his head back. Seeing him so relaxed and happy was truly a sight to behold.

"Anythin' you want," he replied, then leaned forward. "Hear that, Richie?"

"Yes, sir."

Joel patted the headrest twice and sat back, brown eyes dancing when they found you again.

"Hole in the wall pizza joint and a movie theater? I'm gonna regret wearin' these shoes, ain't I?"

You looked down at the shiny, black leather and giggled.

"How much were they?"

"Seven hundred."

"Oh, yeah, you'll definitely regret it."

The floors at Sal's left little to be desired, for sure, but the pizza was undeniably the best in town. One bite had Joel forgetting all about the stained laminate flooring.

"Right?" you asked excitedly when his eyebrows raised in surprise.

He only nodded, his mouth full until he swallowed and said, "Didn't think there was any decent pizza out here. Reminds me of New York pizza," before taking another large bite.

You giggled and leaned across the high top table to grab the shaker of parmesan cheese.

"I'll have to take your word for it, I've never been."

"You've never been to New York?" he echoed incredulously, and you shook you head as you took another bite. Joel gave you a fake look of disappointment before saying, "I'll have to take you with me next time."

"Do you go often?" you asked, tucking away the idea of traveling again with Joel for later.

"Yeah, 'sides the hotel out here, New York's my biggest source of revenue."

"For now, right?" you countered. He grinned and wiped the corner of his mouth with a thin paper napkin.

"We're a long ways off from openin' in Fiji, but, yeah, that one's projected to make the most."

You nodded, both falling into a comfortable silence while you finished your food.

"Alright," Joel said after balling up his napkins and tossing them onto his greasy paper plate. "Where're you from?"

You laughed and felt your cheeks warm when you replied, "You already know that."

"It's our first date," he reminded you with an adorable smile. His forearms were crossed and resting on the tabletop. He leaned forward like he was sharing a secret, completely oblivious to the looks he was getting when other customers saw him in his sharp, black suit, completely out of place for the setting.

"Okay, I'll play," you decided, leaning forward to mimic his posture. "I'm from Tennessee."

"And what brought you all the way out here?"

You laughed and said, "College."

"You lose your accent or did you never have one?" he asked.

"Uh, I might've had a small accent when I first moved, but I'm afraid it's long gone now. Not like yours," you pointed out.

When you first met, Joel refused to share anything about himself. You were delighted to find out that had changed.

"Grew up in Texas. Whenever I feel it fadin', I know it's time to go back for a visit," he joked, watching your eyes light up when he freely shared something about himself.

"W-where in Texas?" you stammered. You were still unsure of how much he was willing to share, so you figured you would keep your questions to a minimum. But once again, he shocked you.

"Austin. Parents are still out there somewhere. Little brother, too, pretty sure."

"Oh," you replied softly. You grew nervous at the mention of his brother, remembering how the last time he was brought up didn't go so well, so you chose to leave the topic alone and instead focused on his parents.

"Are you close with your mom and dad?"

Joel shrugged, appearing calm on the outside but he could feel his heart pumping faster and his foot began to tap anxiously. If it weren't for the noisy, sticky floor giving him away, you may not have noticed, but you did.

He was nervous, but he was still trying.

You reached out to gently squeeze his arm, making him smile.

"We don't have to," you whispered. We can go slow, it's okay.

"Not as close as I used to be," he said, ignoring the out you gave and allowing the words to tumble out of him all at once. "Y'know how families are. Stupid fights 'n all that."

You nodded vigorously in agreement. "Same with me. Well, I never got along great with my parents. I was always looking for a reason to leave. I applied to schools as far away from home as possible, then me and my best friend both got into UC and it was a no brainer."

Joel looked relieved when you pulled the focus back onto yourself. His shoulders relaxed a bit and he leaned forward.

"The friend you were tellin' me 'bout?" he asked, letting you fill in the rest of the sentence. The one who called the doctor.

"Celine," you offered, "yeah. We've been friends forever."

On the way back to his car, you told him a story from when you and Celine were in high school. Back when you were underage and dumb and drank too much at a house party to impress a boy and you ended up vomiting into some boxwoods while Celine held your hair back.

"The neighbor boy?" Joel guessed.

"You remembered," you said, sounding impressed. He gave you a knowing look, lips pulling into half a smirk, like he were saying of course I remembered.

"Well, yeah. The very same," you confirmed with a deep breath. You fidgeted with the skirt of your dress, trying to hide the sudden wave of shyness that washed over you. Even though you had history, that night somehow really did feel like a first date.

Joel took your hand when you stepped out of the car and he led you into the movie theater, only letting you go when he needed both hands to pay for your tickets.

"I had my first kiss in a movie theater," Joel said as he stood in line beside you for popcorn. You tilted your head to look at him, excited once again he was sharing something personal about himself.

"What movie was it?"

"Indiana Jones," he replied without hesitation. Then you laughed when he added, "I was so nervous the whole time, barely saw a minute of it. Kept psychin' myself up to make a move and couldn't think 'bout anythin' else."

"I can't imagine you nervous," you teased, then right before the clerk called you up to the counter, you locked eyes.

"You make me nervous all the time."

You blinked, stunned by his sudden vulnerability, and then a second later he was at the counter ordering.

"C'mon, don't wanna miss the beginning," he said as he handed you your drink and motioned towards the theaters, completely unperturbed.

When you picked the movie, you figured a standard action flick would be pretty safe. You steered clear of anything romantic, not wanting to inadvertently draw parallels to your own relationship, and you even avoided horror because you had a tendency to cling to the person you're with out of fear. Yet somehow you still found yourself inching closer to him.

At first, you crossed your legs and your foot grazed his knee. Purely accidental. You even apologized and shifted a bit to create more space. But then you kept leaning on the armrest between you and your head tilted to rest between both seats. You wanted to blame it on the fact that he held the popcorn bucket, but he was kind enough to move it closer so you wouldn't have to reach so far.

Around the halfway point of the movie, his hand found your knee. If you recalled correctly, it was during one of the rare funny parts of the movie and you both had leaned forward to laugh. His hand grabbed you for support and just kind of... stayed there.

After that, you had trouble following the plot.

"Wait... who is he again?" you whispered. Joel's fingers flexed on your knee when he leaned over and you were eternally grateful the dark room hid how flustered it made you.

"The marine? He's the brother from earlier."

"Oh, right," you replied, and you must not have sounded very convincing because he gave you a look and you giggled, slapping your palm over your mouth when the people a couple rows ahead of you turned around.

Joel grinned and remained where he was instead of straightening back up.

A few more minutes went by. You pretended to watch the movie but he was too distracting, being that close. Your gaze kept drifting off the screen and down to his hand, then from his hand up to his face, admiring the way the light from the film played across his perfect side profile.

He felt your eyes on him and he turned his head, still smiling when he asked, "You alright?"

"Mhmm," you hummed with a vigorous nod. Then you found yourself leaning a little closer and his gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes again.

It wasn't your fault. He looked so ridiculous and handsome in his expensive suit eating buttery popcorn in an old movie theater. You simply couldn't help yourself. You both inched forward at the same time and gently pressed your lips together. At first, it was timid and sweet and sent a spark down your spine. It felt so nice to kiss him again after so long and after everything that happened, you easily lost yourself in him.

Too easily.

By the time the credits rolled and the dim lights slowly turned back on, you had both hands buried in his hair and his tongue halfway down your throat. When you realized that people could see you, you hurriedly pulled apart at the exact same time. Joel's hand, which had once been on your knee and had since traveled up the skirt of your dress, gave your thigh a little squeeze before begrudgingly untangling himself from you.

"Maybe we should go," you said, giving him a shy glance after fixing yourself up a bit.

"Yeah, just... gimme a minute," he replied, his eyes rolling to stare at the ceiling as he took a few deep, focused breaths. The theater was almost empty and you were about to ask what was wrong when you noticed the bulge in his pants. Heat flooded your face and you looked away to hide your laughter, but he caught you.

"Oh, you think it's funny?" he asked. He tried to sound serious but he couldn't keep the smile from his face.

"A little," you admitted when you looked back at him. He grinned and finally stood up with a groan, tugging his suit coat closed before reaching for your hand.

"I'll remember that," he warned as he led you down the steps and back out into the lobby.

Once you were settled in his car with Richie driving through the dark, quiet streets back towards your apartment, you turned to Joel and asked, "Better than Indiana Jones?"

"Oh, no contest, baby," he murmured with a sly smile.

You giggled and let his fingers thread through yours on top of the seat. Your cheeks ached from how much you laughed and smiled that night. Admittedly, you had your doubts you would be able to really start over after everything that happened, but things felt so different now. In large part, that had to do with Joel and how much he was trying. He pushed himself to open up to you a little bit, despite his uneasiness, and he had no problem agreeing to a normal first date at the last minute.

He was really trying, and he was doing it for you.

"I got it, Richie," Joel said when the car pulled up to your curb and the driver had moved to unbuckle his belt. He gave Joel a nod in the review mirror and stayed put as Joel swung his door open to step outside. Then his eyes shifted to yours and he smiled.

"Have a good night, honey."

"Thanks, Richie, you too," you said warmly just as Joel opened your door.

He held out his hand and you took it, steadying yourself to stand, and gave him a grateful smile right when he pushed the door shut. Wrapping your arms around the crook of his elbow, he led you up the steps to the front door of your building, only letting you go to search for your keys.

"Well, thank you," you said, sounding a little more breathless than you intended, but Joel seemed to like it because his brown eyes sparkled and his mouth twitched when he heard the desire laced in your voice. "I had a great time."

"Me, too," he murmured as he casually leaned against the doorframe, playfully cocking his head to the side as he sized you up and down. "Y'know, I've never seen your place," he said innocently, but when your jaw dropped in mock offense and you gave his shoulder a gentle push, he threw his head back and laughed.

"Excuse me, I don't put out on the first date," you joked, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

"No, 'course not. Was just pointin' out a fact, is all," Joel replied with a matching grin of his own.

"Oh, is that all?" you echoed, leaning forward and wrapping his tie around your fist, then giving it a gentle tug so he would meet you halfway.

"Yeah," he whispered right before your mouths found each other once again. You could still taste the salt and butter from the popcorn on his lips as he crowded you against the door, both his hands flying up to cup each side of your face, cradling it gently while his lips massaged yours. There was just something about him that always had you melting into a puddle at his feet, and that evening was no exception. You had to tear yourself away with a soft laugh before you broke your rule and invited him upstairs.

"Can we do this again?" he asked as you slid your key into the door. You pushed it open and stepped inside, turning back to face him.

"I would love that."

Joel grinned and promised he would call before you waved goodnight and disappeared into the lobby.

When your elevator opened up on your floor, you hurried to your apartment, exhausted but giddy with excitement at how perfect the date went. You flicked on your lights and locked your door before kicking your heels off and throwing your purse onto the couch, but not before digging out your phone to taken with you as you got changed and ready for bed.

You had just finished brushing your teeth, not ten minutes after he left, when your phone rang. Your heart fluttered in your chest when you saw his name, and you slipped between your bedsheets before answering.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

You could hear the road noise in the background when you asked, "Did you forget something?"

"Nope. Just said I would call."

You laughed and pulled your blankets up around your chin.

"I thought that meant maybe tomorrow."

"Miss you, didn't wanna wait," he answered immediately. You bit your lower lip and even though he couldn't see you, you pressed your palm over your cheeks when you felt them grow hot.

"I miss you, too," you whispered.

After a beat of silence where you were each smiling like fools for no one to see, he spoke again.

"What do you wanna do for our next date?"

"Hmm," you tapped your chin thoughtfully for a moment. "How about you pick the next one since I picked this one? We can take turns."

You heard his deep chuckle on the other end and you grinned.

"I like it. You're on."

You figured Joel would pick something a little fancier than you, but you weren't expecting him to propose a date to the opera for your fourth date. It was a far cry from the shitty little dive bar around the corner that had a really fun trivia night you dragged him to a few days before.

Joel! I don't have anything to wear to the opera!

I kept all your clothes. I'll have Liam drop off some things before EOD.

Before you even had a chance to process the fact Joel had kept everything from your trip to Fiji and what that could possibly mean, your phone pinged with another text.

Told you you should've kept them

You grinned and shook your head.

And I told *you* I don't have the room

When are you gonna let me see this tiny apartment of yours?

You glanced around your living room, the space was cozy but definitely not spacious. It was hard to even imagine Joel there. Would he even like it? He was definitely used to a very different lifestyle than you. You were nervously chewing your nail, lost in thought, when your phone pinged again.

Sorry, not trying to pressure you, that's not what I meant

Shit, you took too long to answer and had him second guessing himself.

I know lol I was just reading an email - sorry

It wasn't entirely untrue. Your laptop sat open on your coffee table, your email program sitting before you.

Any luck on the job front?

No... not yet. Fortunately I have a handsome benefactor paying my rent for the next two months ;)

Your handsome benefactor would really like it if you let him help you find a job, baby

You rolled your eyes and sighed before typing out, don't you have a company to run?

I can do two things at once

You laughed to yourself and leaned back into your couch, staring at your phone longingly.

Since your first date with Joel, you had spoken every single day, approximately two weeks. What surprised you the most was the constant stream of texts he sent you throughout the day. You saw how he was in Fiji, you knew he was busy and had meetings and calls around the clock. How on earth he managed to do both still astounded you.

Because he was really trying, a little voice in the back of your head piped up.

He really did seem like a completely different man from the one you first met. Traces of him were still there: he hadn't yet come clean about his daughter or brother, but every time you saw each other, he made a point of sharing something new about himself. He told you a handful of stories from when he was younger, living in Texas. He told you his brother was a contractor but that was the only thing you knew about him. And that was okay. You wanted him to tell you about himself on his own terms, without feeling pressured, and that was exactly what he was doing.

Well I need to shower and figure out what to do with my hair for tonight. Unfortunately my phone's not waterproof so I guess I'll just see you later?

Looking forward to it - I'll let you know when to expect Liam

Like he promised, Liam arrived around four in the afternoon with an armful of dresses draped over one arm and a bag of shoes in the other.

"Oh, god, here - lemme help you," you said when you saw how much he was carrying from the elevator. He shot you a relieved smile when you grabbed a few things from his arms and helped him inside your apartment. He took one quick glance around and said, "Cute," before laying the dresses out on your couch and unzipping the bags.

"Alright. I brought a few pieces I thought would work best. You're free to do whatever, of course, but I would recommend the Chanel dress with the Valentino shoes."

Your eyes darted around at the items suddenly taking up all of the space in your living room and tried not to look completely out of your depth, but he must have been able to tell because he snatched up both items and handed them to you.

"Oh, thanks," you told him. The Chanel dress was a slinky black number you never had a chance to wear on the island, and the shoes were strappy heels you thought you wore once to a dinner with Zoe.

"Have you seen La Traviata before?" Liam asked. You chuckled and shook your head.

"I've never even been to the opera before."

Liam smiled and clapped his hands together gleefully. "Oh, you'll have such a great time! This is a great one to see. Especially from the box. You'll be able to see everything and won't have to dodge horrible hairdos or top hats."

"B-box? Joel's got box seats?" you stammered. He laughed and began to open a small toiletry bag filled with jewelry.

"Of course he does."

Liam held up a few necklaces before settling on a thin chain of diamonds and setting it aside. He then dug out matching earrings and a bracelet while he asked, "What are you planning to do with your hair?"

You had washed and dried it but otherwise, you hadn't gotten further than that.

"Uh, just wear it down, I guess."

Liam straightened up and gave you a once over. "Want some help?"

Relief flooded your veins and you quickly nodded. "Do you mind?"

He smiled and shook his head before flapping his hands, ushering you towards your bathroom.

"Not at all. Let's see what you're working with."

"Jesus, you look beautiful," Joel murmured for the fourth time since he picked you up. He had one arm wrapped tightly around your middle, pulling you close to his side as you weaved through the lobby of the opera house. You owed it all to Liam. He was a lifesaver. He picked out your outfit and helped curl your hair where you couldn't reach it, keeping you distracted while he told you about his boyfriend's parents and their lavish home in Malibu.

"Thank you," you replied softly, looking him up and down in his sharp, black tuxedo before reminding him how good he looked, too.

"You wanna get a drink before it starts? We got 'bout ten minutes," he said, looking quickly at his watch before catching your eye.

"Uh, no, thanks. I'm good," you replied, looking past him to admire the ornate architecture. "Do you come to the opera often?"

"Not as much as I like," he told you while leading you towards a flight of carpeted stairs in the corner of the room. "Don't usually have many dates," he added with a little smirk. You smiled back, heart fluttering a little in your chest at how relaxed and happy he seemed.

He had been so good about opening up lately, you decided to test the waters and see how he would react.

"When was your last relationship?"

He faltered for just a quick moment when he reached out to pull back the red velvet curtain that led to your box seats, but he recovered nicely.

"You mean a real relationship?" he asked, and you nodded. He pulled out your chair and you swept the skirt of your dress underneath you before sitting down and thanking him.

"Well, that woulda been with Sarah's mom."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you twisted in your seat to look at him. He was fixing his suit coat, looking down as his fingers nervously fidgeted with the buttons while he spoke.

"Was a long time ago. Sarah's fifteen now," he added, clearing his throat before locking eyes with you.

You swallowed and nodded before forcing yourself to reply, trying not to look too eager to hear more.

"That's a long time."

"Explains why I'm so rusty," he joked, cracking a little smile which you quickly reciprocated.

"You're not as rusty as you think," you teased. "I've been having a really great time the past couple weeks."

His smile softened and he instinctively found your hand, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles.

"Me, too," he murmured, dark eyes sparkling in the dim lighting from the chandeliers hanging over the auditorium.

His hand rarely left yours the entire three hours. The brief moments where the audience was expected to clap were the only exception, and then his hand immediately fell to yours once again. There was something so sweet and tender about the gesture, it made your chest squeeze and had you wishing you could curl into his side and wrap yourself around him.

What was wonderful was he didn't expect anything from you in these two short weeks, but then again, he never really did. Not in the way you were thinking, anyway. But that particular evening, you couldn't stop yourself from thinking about it. It might have been the heart-wrenchingly beautiful arias, or his thick fingers laced between yours, or how fucking good he looked in his tux, but whatever it was, it was driving you crazy. During the final hour of the performance, you were trying not to squirm in your seat too much and distract him because it truly was a beautiful opera, and you enjoyed it much more than you expected, but your close proximity and constant contact had your body reacting in ways that were not appropriate for the setting.

Even in the car on the way back to your apartment, you struggled to carry on a simple fucking conversation with him, allowing Joel to do most of the talking as he described his favorite parts while your eyes subtly darted between him and Richie, wishing more than ever that Joel would use that goddamn partition you knew the car had but he never seemed to utilize.

The three dates you've had before all ended the same way. Richie had figured out by now that Joel preferred to open your door himself, so he remained seated after giving you a quick good night over his shoulder while Joel slid out of the car to walk you up. He would kiss you, tell you what a fun time he had, maybe offer up a suggestion for your next date and probably give you a flirty little joke or comment before kissing you one last time with the promise to call.

This time, you only let him get to the first kiss before you whispered against his lips, "Do you want to come up and finally see my apartment?"

He pulled back like he had been electrocuted and you stifled a giggle at the serious look on his face. You could practically see the gears in his head turning as he tried to formulate a response.

"Or, you know, you could see it another time if you're tired," you added, hiding your smirk when you turned to unlock your front door.

"N-no, that's - y'sure?" he asked from over your shoulder. You pushed open the door and took one step inside before turning back around. Dragging your gaze up and down his body, you looked him dead in the eye when you said, "Absolutely."

Joel waved Richie off when you turned to drag him into your building, praying the ancient elevator wouldn't take forever like it normally did. You were in luck: it opened right away for once, and you quickly stepped inside before repeatedly jabbing the button for your floor. Joel chuckled behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist when the doors closed.

"That excited to show me your place, hm?" he murmured, his lips brushing over your bare shoulder. You leaned back into his chest, head lolling to the side and eyelids fluttering when his prickly mustache tickled your neck.

"Mhmm," you hummed, then bravely added, "especially my bedroom."

He groaned and gently bit at the skin behind your ear, teeth grazing over a tender spot, making you shudder.

"C'mon," you muttered once the doors slid open, grabbing his hand and hauling him down the hall towards your apartment. When you turned the corner, your eyes widened in surprise when you almost ran into your neighbor.

"Oh! Mrs. Adams! Hi... s-sorry," you stammered at the elderly woman wrapped in her robe with her tiny white dog cradled in her arms.

"Ma'am," Joel said with a friendly nod.

She said your name in greeting, then gave Joel a suspicious look over her shoulder before disappearing inside your abandoned elevator. You giggled and knocked your door open with your hip, pulling him inside and locking the door while flicking on your lights.

With one hand on your lower back, he looked around your meager apartment, standing in the middle of your living room slash kitchen in his tuxedo looking more out of place than you could have ever imagined, but it didn't bother you. Turned out, you liked seeing him in your space. You wanted to have memories of him sitting on your couch or eating at your table or taking a shower in your bathroom.

"I like it," he said, eyes still darting around to take in every little thing. Then he spotted some framed photographs on your entertainment center and he took a step forward.

"Can we look at those later?" you asked, tugging him back. He grinned and nodded before cupping your jaw and placing a tender kiss against your lips.

"You got somethin' else in mind?" he teased, but you just nodded earnestly and began to tug at his tie. He chuckled and watched you yank it from around his neck, dropping it on your floor before beginning to undo his buttons.

His hands fell to your sides, running up and down and plucking at the slinky fabric of your dress while you undid half the buttons of his crisp white shirt. Pleased to find he wasn't wearing an undershirt, you lunged forward and started to leave a trail of wet kisses leading from the center of his chest all the way up to the corner of his mouth.

"Missed you," he breathed, letting his eyes fall closed while you worked on sucking a bruise into his neck. Your fingers worked faster now, tugging the shirt from his dress pants and fumbling with the remaining buttons.

"Me, too," you whispered, lips still nipping at his skin, tongue darting out to press against his pulse. His shirt finally fell open and your nails lightly dragged down his chest when you added, "Need you. Please, Joel... kiss me."

You didn't need to ask twice.

His mouth collided with yours, all messy and urgent, and he began to walk you backwards towards the open door of your bedroom. He deftly worked the zipper on the back of your dress, pulling it down as he walked, mouth still seared across yours.

When you stepped through the threshold, your heels transitioning from hardwood to carpet, you blindly flung a hand out and flicked a light switch. In the corner of your room, a floor lamp turned on, casting you both in a soft glow when Joel finally pushed you down onto your bed.

His eyes, dark and filled with desire, dragged up and down your body while he unbuttoned his cuffs and shrugged off his shirt. Your dress was unzipped but still hung from your shoulders as you watched him slowly work his belt with bated breath.

"I like your room," he told you, tone casual like he wasn't taking off his pants and palming his cock through his boxers.

"Thanks," you laughed as you began to squirm out of your dress. He grinned and grabbed a heel in each hand before sliding them off and tossing them into a corner. "I can't imagine the kind of bedroom you have. Probably as big as the entire floor of this building."

"You'll have to come over and see," Joel said, eyes glued to your dress when it slid to the floor. He knelt on the edge of your mattress, old bed squeaking under his weight, then fell forward to hover above you.

He traced a finger along your jaw, mesmerized for a moment as he admired you up close. When he heard your breathing stutter under the scrutiny, his gaze flickered up to yours and he pinched your chin.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "For everythin'. For every time I pushed you away 'n every time I made you cry."

The sudden shift in mood stunned you for a second and he took the opportunity to press his lips firmly against yours, tethering you together for just a moment before pulling away.

"Thank you for givin' me another chance," he whispered, closing his eyes and nudging his nose gently against yours. "I won't fuck this up again, baby, I promise."

"You better fucking not," you sniffled, then wrapped your arms loosely around his neck to pull him into another deep kiss so he wouldn't see your eyes grow watery.

"There's my girl," he chuckled at your sass when he broke away to pepper kisses along your jaw. My girl. Hearing those words shot a bolt of arousal through you and your hips began to subtly rock upwards, seeking out some friction to soothe the ache between your legs.

"Want me to take care of you?" he murmured into your skin. "Want me to make you feel good, baby?"

"Yeah," you whined, hips bucking upwards to chase his hand that dropped between your thighs, fingers teasing at your seam through your soaked panties. Then he hooked the fabric to the side, his mouth finding yours right when he slid two thick fingers inside you, swallowing down your gasp and groaning at the sharp bite of pain from your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shit," you whispered when he began to plunge them in and out, curling and flexing his fingers inside your wet walls, soaked from the arousal building since you first saw him in his tuxedo when he picked you up.

Joel hummed, relishing in the familiar feel around him and trying to hold himself back from pulling his hand out from between your legs so he could bury his cock deep inside you, instead.

But he refused to be selfish. He said he wanted to take care of you, and he meant it. He meant it in every imaginable way.

All he wanted was you.

"So beautiful, y'know that?" he mumbled, mouth dragging over your jaw, teeth lightly nipping at your chin. "So warm 'n perfect, missed havin' you like this," he continued, lips twitching when he saw your eyes squeeze shut and mouth fall open when his fingertips brushed against that spot that had you reduced to a mumbling mess underneath him.

Joel could sense he had you right on the edge. He heard it in the way your breath came in staggered gasps and could feel it in the way your legs began to quake. He picked up the pace, breath puffing hot and fast from his nose, eyes locked on your face, eager to watch you fall apart for him after what felt like an eternity without you.

Then his face broke out into a cocky grin when the heel of his palm started to slap against your clit with each snap of his wrist. The noises you made for him were like music to his ears, a symphony of his name and more and don't stop and a litany of curses.

"Gonna come for me, darlin'? Gonna come 'n let me fuck this perfect little pussy?" he growled while biting gently at your earlobe. You whined and tipped your head back, pushing deep into your pillow as the pleasure mounted low in your belly, burning bright when it finally spilled over with a pathetic hoarse whimper. Joel groaned when your nails dragged down unexpectedly hard, leaving angry red trails over the skin of his back. Marks he would catch in the mirror on Monday and grin proudly at his reflection after he stepped out of his shower.

"Fuck, Joel," you panted, eyes fluttering open to gaze up at him. You looked so beautiful like that. All fucked out, hair a mess, skin hot, lips swollen. He dove down and pulled your lower lip between his teeth, gently tugging before letting it go and slipping his tongue into your eager mouth. His fingers had slowed to a stop inside you, but he could still feel your cunt pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. It was a feeling he was very familiar with. A feeling he craved and now that he had it again, feared he may go insane if he didn't feel it around his painfully hard cock very soon.

As if you read his mind, you dragged your mouth away from his to whisper in his ear, "Fuck me, Joel," and he swore the edges of his vision blurred from just your request alone.

A high pitched moan slipped past your lips when he pulled his fingers out from between your legs. You rolled your head to the side, the sudden emptiness causing you to writhe in discomfort, but you wouldn't have to wait very long.

He reached around to unhook your strapless bra and tossed it onto your floor, like he was mad at it for keeping you from him. Then he made short work of your underwear, which you looked relieved to finally be rid of, before pulling down his boxers and freeing his throbbing cock. He caught your gaze drop and your teeth sunk into your lower lip before sitting up.

"I wanna suck it," you announced, but when you began to lean down, he grabbed your shoulders and hauled you up.

"Not tonight," he told you, and you whined a little as you reached down to stroke him. He groaned and tipped his head back, hips thrusting into your fist on their own accord.

"Please," you pleaded, lips puckering around his adam's apple. And you almost got him. He could hardly resist when you begged, especially with the promise of your warm, soft mouth wrapped around his cock, but he knew he wouldn't last long if he let you.

"Lemme fuck you, baby," he murmured when he gave you a gentle push. You flopped back onto your bed with a playful scowl, tits bouncing a little from the impact when he suddenly reached down to the floor to grab his pants. He pulled out a little foil wrapper and you frowned.

"We don't have to-"

"Just bein' extra careful, alright?" he told you, cutting you off as he rolled the condom on.

"I have an implant now. It won't be a problem like last time," you insisted, but he already tossed the wrapper to the ground and fell onto his elbows, hovering above you.

"Humor me," he said with a little smirk right before his hips pushed your thighs apart, wasting no time lining himself up with your entrance.

Normally, he would go slow. Normally, he would take his time and feed you his cock inch by inch, but on that particular evening, he was too desperate. With one deep grunt and rough thrust, he sheathed himself inside you in one go, making your jaw drop and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Sorry," he gasped, forehead falling to your shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut, the sensation of your pussy gripping him so perfectly sending him reeling. "Sorry," he repeated as the both of you struggled for air, "I didn't mean, I - fuck -" his hips began to move just a little bit and he whimpered when your fingers drifted up to get tangled in his hair.

"It's okay, keep going," you encouraged him, taking a deep breath and forcing your muscles to relax.

"Don't wanna hurt you but, fuck baby, I want you so goddamn bad."

"I know, it's okay, it doesn't hurt," you told him truthfully. His mouth was open, pressed against your chest with his exhale fanning across your skin, making you shiver. You wrapped your legs around his waist and tilted your hips with a gasp. "God, you're so deep," you moaned, nails scraping his scalp when he began to move a little more steadily.

"I know, baby, I know," he murmured, voice sounding strained. It was all too much and, somehow, not enough. You clung to him when his hips began to snap against you, jostling your entire body with each earth-shattering thrust. His groans and your whimpers getting lost in each others mouths. Tears stung your eyes when he whispered, "Think 'bout you all the time. Never stop thinkin' 'bout you." And he growled when you admitted the same.

Your shitty little bed frame screamed underneath you the more desperate Joel became, no doubt grabbing the attention of Mrs. Adams across the hall. His hands never stopped moving. They cupped your breast, the back of your neck, your ass, and then his fingers hooked under your knee, pulling your leg to open up your hips.

Your eyes flew open and you cried out at the intense angle, his cock splitting you in two but his kiss put you right back together again. One of his hands fell to grab your hip, his other arm bracing himself next to your head and it felt utterly overwhelming, being completely consumed by him, that you wanted to do the same. You tugged at his hair, nipped at his throat, wrapped your other leg even tighter around his middle.

If he was going to destroy you, you wanted to give it right back.

He appeared to enjoy it. He groaned and his lips curled into a smile when you tried to take a piece of him. It made him slam his hips into your harder, had him plunging his tongue into your mouth with an urgency that sent your back arching off the bed, pressing your bare chest against his.

"You like that?" he mumbled into your mouth, lips barely leaving yours to speak. "You like when I fuck you like this?"

"So - good -" you moaned, each word bookended by a snap of his hips.

"You like gettin' me all worked up? Like drivin' me fuckin' crazy?"

"Yeah, actually, I do," you breathed, smirking at the sound of his words passing through gritted teeth. His chin dropped and his teeth grazed your nipple a little harsher than you expected and you yelped, which melted into a giggle when you felt him smile against your skin.

You pulled your lower lip between your teeth and, with your lips still curved into a smile, reached down to grab his ass, giving it a firm squeeze while making sure to add a little pinch from your nails. It made him grunt, his hips changing their pace. What was rough, strong thrusts of his hips now faltered to deep strokes which he made sure to drive upwards so he could reach that spot inside you he knew would have you screaming his name.

"Oh, fuck!" you cried out, and he chuckled darkly against your throat. "Fuck! Joel... keep - going," you gasped. Your hands were back to clawing at his shoulders while he drove into you over and over. His forehead prickled with sweat and he could feel his curls beginning to stick to his skin but he refused to let up because you were so close. Your slick walls were clenching around him, making him see stars, while you repeatedly whined his name. He smirked to himself, pleased he got exactly what he wanted. Your voice was already hoarse and he could only imagine what it would sound like in the morning, all raw and thick with sleep.

"You gonna come f'me, baby?" he asked, voice deep and gravelly in your ear. You nodded, mouth still hung open in a silent scream. "Then do it. C'mon, wanna feel you," he coaxed. "Wanna feel your tight little pussy milk this cock. Go on, lemme have it."

The ball of tension growing hotter and brighter at the base of your spine finally broke. Your back arched up again and your head flew back into the pillows as your orgasm rolled through your entire body, his name reduced to just a mere whimper on your lips, unable to give anything else. Your muscles weakened and you collapsed back into the bedding, your brain in a fog. Meanwhile, Joel reared back and dragged your hips onto his lap, pounding steadily into your used cunt, all frantic and delirious in his movements until he slammed into you one final time with a deep, prolonged groan.

Your eyes slid closed, but his mouth was back on yours in an instant. Soft, tender kisses pressed shakily against your lips, silence filling the room except for the quiet sound of your combined heavy breathing and your bed springs occasionally squealing when Joel shifted his weight.

"You good?" he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours with a deep breath. You nodded then winced when he withdrew his softening cock from between your legs. He propped himself up on his elbows and gazed down at you, searching your face very seriously for a moment. You opened your mouth to ask but the words died in your throat. Instead, you let him study you. Your eyes landed on the little wrinkles developing next to his eyes, the cute pout he made when he was deep in thought, the way his hair stood like a halo after your fingers pulled and tugged, rearranging the product that was combed through.

He kept looking at you, something happening behind his eyes, something meaningful. But just when you thought you were on the cusp of something, he blinked and cleared his throat, pushing himself upright.

"Lemme go clean up real quick," he said, glancing out into the hallway.

"Okay," you said quietly, watching as he sauntered naked through your room and disappeared into the bathroom. You could hear the sink running, then a minute later, the toilet flushing, and you suddenly felt cold. You reached for your blankets and slid underneath, and right when your mind was about to get carried away with self-doubt and too many questions, the door flung open and he stepped out with a determined look.

"I almost married Sarah's mom."

You sat up in bed, clutching the sheets to your chest with wide eyes. He was standing in your doorway, still naked except the condom was gone. His fingers fidgeted nervously at his sides and the romantic side of you found it poetic that he was fully naked and about to reveal something so personal, but you couldn't focus much on that.

"Why didn't you?"

Joel blinked.

"I thought I loved her, but I think it was just 'cause she was havin' my baby," he began. "I was thirty, just startin' to make a name for myself, made a huge fuckin' mistake and, I dunno, felt like I had to do the right thing."

"Thirty," you repeated, and he nodded. "Didn't you say that was when you built The Parador?"

He nodded again and finally moved from his spot in the doorway to join you on the bed.

"I was naive. I met her at this networkin' event with a bunch of other guys in the hospitality industry. She was just at the bar, all alone, wasn't even part of the event or a worker or nothin'. Shoulda been my first clue, but I was young and stupid."

"What do you mean?"

He pulled the blankets over his waist and leaned up against your headboard.

"I didn't know it, but she was goin' fishin' that night."

You tilted your head to the side, confusion written all over your face.

"She was lookin' to sink her claws into someone with money. She knew everyone at that event was somebody, so she cast her line and reeled one in."

Slowly, you began to connect the dots.

"She... she was using you for your money?"

Joel swallowed and nodded, his eyes darting around your face nervously.

"Did - you said the pregnancy was a mistake-"

"I don't know if she planned it, but it sure as hell felt that way after I found everythin' out. She was expectin' me to propose, thought she'd be set for life if she had my kid. Heard her on the phone one night with a friend who was doin' the same thing to someone else. Same night I came home early to surprise her after we found out we were havin' a girl."

"Oh, my god," you whispered in disbelief.

"It was wrong, I know it, but I was so fuckin' hurt," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I kicked her out. I know it wasn't Sarah's fault and I tried, I really fuckin' tried, but every time I saw her-" he pressed his lips into a thin line and dropped his gaze to the sheets. "Just reminded me of everythin', and I couldn't handle it."

"So... you don't have a relationship with her? Or with Sarah?" you asked. He shook his head but he kept his eyes shamefully fixed on his hands.

Suddenly, everything made sense. Joel's concern with Glenn and his emphasis on family, Tammy's vague insinuation on the yacht, Joel's inability to trust you, his resistance to opening up. It was all because he was afraid of being used again.

The fact he had never been in love sounded more like he had never allowed himself to fall in love.

But he was trusting you now. Something that was clearly very difficult for him to do while he sat in fear of judgement.

You scooted forward on the bed and tucked yourself into his side. You wrapped your arms around his middle and rested your chin on his chest, curling yourself around him, trying to make him feel safe. His heart fluttered anxiously under his skin, you could feel it, but he slowly picked up his own arms and coiled them around you protectively.

"I'm sorry, Joel."

"What- what're you sorry for?"

"For everything you went through. I'm sorry she broke your heart. I'm sorry you suffered for so long with this burden. I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me before, but I promise you, I'm not judging you."

"I know," he replied, kissing the top of your head. You took another deep breath before speaking again.

"And I'm not after you for your money. I can understand now why you -"

"Sweetheart, I know," he said, cutting you off.

You frowned and looked up at him. "You do?"

He grinned and nudged his nose gently against yours.

"Yeah. Probably the only goddamn sugar baby in the world who didn't want money, so... yeah. I know."

You giggled and pulled away from his grip so you could look him in the eye.

"I mean, it's kind of ironic... you seeking out a woman to pay to be with you? Why would you-"

"'Cause I woulda rather had all our cards on the table and know up front it was just a business deal," he explained. "Didn't need someone sneakin' 'round behind my back tryin' to take advantage of me. Rather know from jump."

You felt your chest tighten a little at that, and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning forward, giving him a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. He pulled you over to straddle his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist, gazing up at you with stars in his eyes.

"But you wanted everythin' else except my money," he murmured. You shifted your eyes to the left and began to play with a curl above his ear, suddenly growing shy under his scrutiny. But he kept going.

"Always had a feelin', but didn't wanna believe it. Couldn't believe it, I suppose," he added, watching your eyes carefully as you continued to focus on his hair. "You never cared 'bout doin' anythin' extravagant on the island. Wanted to spend time with me at the beach, wanted to get food from a stand at the corner with our goddamn faces painted," he chuckled. You grinned and felt your cheeks grow hot.

"Then you left those envelopes," he said, and your eyes finally found his again. He let a heavy moment pass between you as you stared down at him. "Never even opened 'em. Gave you that first one the first night we were there. And you didn't open it."

You shook your head and a slow smile stretched across his face.

"Then with the hell you gave me and the bank 'bout the payment after we got back," he groaned, tilting his face to the ceiling like he was in agony.

"Fifty thousand was too fucking much!" you practically shouted, but he just laughed and pulled you closer.

"You actually fuckin' like me," he said in wonder. "Why would someone like you want anythin' to do with someone like me?"

You threw your head back and laughed, immediately recognizing your own words being parroted back to you.

"Because," you replied once your laughter waned, "you're a good man, despite what you may think. You care and you're sweet and you make me feel safe. You make me feel good about myself. You pay attention to things that mean something to me. You - I -" you cut yourself off with a quick shake of your head. "Yeah... I actually fucking like you," you finished with a slow smile.

He grinned and cupped the back of your neck, but before pulling you down for a kiss, he whispered, "How'd I get so lucky?"

The next morning, you awoke to an empty bed. If it weren't for the incessant ache between your legs and the soreness of your throat, you would have wondered if it was all a dream. You reached for the other side of the bed and felt the sheets cool under your fingertips.

It was Saturday. You didn't think he would have worked that day, but then again, it was Joel, so maybe he did. But would he really leave without saying goodbye? After you were so raw and vulnerable with each other the night before?

That was when you heard it. Faint humming and music turned on low coming from your kitchen.

Oh, now this you had to see.

When you rolled out of bed, you almost reached for your pajamas, but then you spotted his shirt neatly draped over your desk chair and you couldn't resist. You picked it up and slid your arms through, rumpling the fabric underneath your chin and taking a deep breath. It still smelled just like him. A mixture of deodorant, soap, cologne and hair products. A unique scent that was quickly becoming a favorite of yours.

You stepped out of your bedroom and peered into your kitchen, a smile pulling at your lips when you saw him pouring coffee for you both, wearing only his boxers with the sweet sounds of 80s ballads filling the air. You crossed your arms and leaned against the wall, gaze slowly gliding over the strong, broad muscles of his back until he turned around and froze.

"Was gonna make you somethin' to eat and then I remembered... I don't know how to cook."

You burst out laughing and Joel grinned when he handed you your coffee.

"But you figured out the coffee machine," you said, taking a tentative sip and giving him an impressed look.

"That thing's a piece of shit, I'm buyin' you a new one," he scolded.

You dropped your jaw and frowned.

"No, you will not. It's not in its prime, sure, but it makes the best coffee."

Joel chuckled and wrapped the hand not holding his coffee around your ribs. Taking a step forward and dropping his chin had him towering over you seductively.

"Y'look real good in my clothes," he murmured, lips brushing against your forehead with a low hum.

"Couldn't help myself," you admitted softly, "smells just like you."

He pulled back a bit to give you half a smile. "You like smellin' like me?"

"Mhmm," you said under your breath, then nuzzled your nose into his bare chest and took a deep breath. "But now you smell like me."

Joel groaned and dipped his head lower, slotting his lips hungrily against yours. When his tongue slipped past your lips, you giggled and pulled away.

"I need some coffee first," you teased. He just smirked while his fingertips rubbed his bottom lip, like he were chasing the ghost of your kiss. His soft brown eyes were glimmering, so happy and content in your little living room slash kitchen. His cheeks were slightly pink and you weren't sure you'd ever seen him smile so much before.

While you sipped your coffee, you began to crack some eggs in a frying pan while simultaneously tossing some bread in the toaster. Meanwhile, Joel was nosing curiously around your apartment, inspecting little trinkets that he didn't have the chance to look at the night before.

"Snowglobe from Disney?" Joel asked, holding it up from across the room. You looked over your shoulder with a grin.

"My aunt and uncle are obsessed with Disney. They get me Disney themed shit every year for Christmas."

Joel hummed and placed it down gently on the windowsill before spotting a vase filled with sand and seashells. He smiled as he approached, too worried he would break it to pick it up when he asked, "When'd you steal sand?"

He heard you laugh and he turned back around.

"The day we were at the beach together. I had a ziploc for my sunscreen so, you know," you said with a shrug while you flipped the eggs. Joel gave the vase one more look, smiling to himself when he saw the new pink seashells scattered throughout.

"Where are you gonna hang the painting?" he asked when he saw it leaning up against the wall next to your television.

"I don't know yet. Maybe next to the door. Or maybe behind the couch," you answered, focusing on buttering the toast and turning off the gas before the eggs burned. You jumped when you suddenly felt his hands sliding around your waist.

"Supposed to go above the bed," he reminded you. Tilting your head to look at him over your shoulder, you grinned.

"You remember everything, don't you?"

"Sure do," he replied, giving your ass a playful smack before picking up both plates of food. "Where do you wanna eat?"

You both sunk into your old couch and balanced your plates on your knees, shoveling in forkfuls of food in between explaining the story behind every little thing that caught his eye.

Then he spotted your picture frames again. He leaned forward to put his empty plate on your coffee table and stood, his hulking, mostly-still-naked frame captivating you for a moment as he picked up a photo to study it.

"Your folks?" he asked, tilting the frame towards you. You squinted and nodded from the couch. "Any siblings?"

The question came out soft as he angled it back towards him.

"Nope. Just me. I've always wanted a sister but Celine was a pretty good substitute," you smiled as he picked up a photo of you and Celine on New Years Eve.

"'S'nice," he murmured thoughtfully, taking one last look at the photo before putting it back. He pretended to study a photo of you and your grandparents from your graduation when he added, "Probably best you got to pick. My brother's been a pain in the ass since I was old enough to ride a bike."

You perked up at the mention of his brother, folding your legs underneath you and setting your plate down next to his.

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm," he hummed, still staring down at the picture. "Always usin' my shit and breakin' it. Buttin' in with me 'n my friends to do somethin' stupid. Got me in trouble more times than I can count with our Mama," he mused. He finally set the picture down and turned to look at you. "Then he got older. The fuck ups got more serious. Bailin' him outta jail every other weekend. Got a DUI one summer and had me haulin' his ass all over town."

Your eyebrows raised in surprise but you remained silent, just nodding your head and giving him your full attention, too afraid to spook him with any questions just yet.

"Then we grew up. I moved out here, six months later he follows, 'course," he said, sounded exasperated when he plopped down on the couch next to you. "Got a job at a hotel, 'fore you know it he's beggin' me for a job. Got 'em one workin' as a dishwasher in the restaurant inside the hotel but he fucked that up before I could blink an eye."

Before he even finished the story, you could sense where it was going.

"Finally, he finds his own way. Gets in with a construction company. And he did pretty good, too. I had my thing goin' on at the hotel. Learnin' from the manager 'n all that. By the time I was ready to renovate my first hotel, Tommy'd ended up owning his own company. It was small, but, hell... it was the best he ever got."

You chewed your lower lip anxiously, watching as his eyes slid over to your dusty television, staring at it blankly before he continued.

"So, I hired him. Hired his company to renovate part of the hotel. He even cut me a deal. Thought for once he'd finally pulled his head outta his ass and made somethin' of himself."

Joel fell silent for a few minutes, lost in thought while his fingers fidgeted nervously in his lap.

"Then what happened?" you whispered, worried if you had spoken any louder, it would have snapped him out of it and he would clam back up.

"Then... his company went under. He wasn't doin' shit by the book. Got caught payin' guys under the table and fuckin' up his taxes. And he had to start over."

You connected the dots even before he said, "He came to me lookin' for a loan. Lookin' to fix all his goddamn mistakes, like nothin' ever changed. And... I said no."

"And he never forgave you," you guessed. His eyes found yours and he nodded.

"Yeah. Never forgave me. Said I was turnin' my back on blood. Said he woulda done the same for me. But I just had fuckin' enough. I worked hard to get what I had. So, I refused and he had to move back to Texas. Last I heard he got a loan from our Pop and started a business down there."

You sat in silence for a moment, letting his story sink in with the only noise coming from horns blaring on the street below and your next door neighbor shouting at her husband to wake up for work.

"So... that's the brother story, huh?" you finally said, the corner of your mouth lifting when he met your eye and nodded. You shrugged and scooted closer to him on the couch. "That's not so bad. I understand why you did what you did."

"Had the whole situation goin' on with Sarah's mom at the time, too, but 'course he had no idea. Felt like he never asked me much 'bout my life unless he needed somethin'," he said solemnly.

You snuggled in close and lifted his arm to drape over your shoulders.

"It's never too late, you know," you told him softly. His thumb began to trace invisible circles over your shoulder.

"For what?"

"To make peace. With both of them," you replied. "If you wanted to, anyway. And if you ask me, it sounds like you want to."

"Oh, yeah? And how d'you know that?" Joel teased, pinching your arm and making you giggle.

"Because," you said, tilting your chin to look at him. "If you didn't want to, you wouldn't care so much. You wouldn't have kept all this a secret and you wouldn't think you're a bad person. But what do I know?" you said with a sigh before resting your head against his chest. "I'm just the sugar baby."

Joel's loud laugh echoed throughout your tiny apartment. You grinned when he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap to face him, dark eyes sparkling as he gazed up at you.

"You ain't a sugar baby, and you know it."

"Then what am I?"

He cupped the back of your neck and brought your lips down to meet his in a gentle kiss.

"You're the woman I'm fallin' in love with," he whispered, voice trembling a little. You locked eyes, the surprise and excitement coursing through your veins causing you to smile so wide that it hurt.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he replied with a smile of his own. "Real goddamn inconvenient," he added, making you giggle and press another kiss against his mouth.

"Told you," you said breathlessly. "But we can take things slow, seeing as you're a newbie and all." Joel scoffed and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

The dam had finally broke. All the secrets and lies were revealed. For better or worse, you both put your hearts in each others hands and trusted that the other would keep it safe.

As if reading your mind, Joel's hand dropped to your chest. He flattened his palm over your rapidly beating heart while you played with the curls on the nape of his neck.

"This is real," he stated softly, voice a little thicker than before. He had a look on his face like he couldn't believe it, and you smiled.

"Yeah, it's real."

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[heybrownieboy]

Pairing: ??? x Psychic Medium! Fem! Reader

Synopsis: L/N Y/N doesn’t remember a time when she couldn’t see, hear, or communicate with the dead and well… other things. This ability— or as some would say “gift”— has led her to have many interesting (cough: traumatizing) experiences in her life. Because of this, she decides to start her account “ofchaosandspirits” where she recounts her supernatural run ins under the pseudonym “Eris”.

So, when Yang Jeongin DMs “Eris” asking for help with the supernatural, Y/N doesn’t think much of it. She loves being able to help others when she can, answering dozens of messages every day and giving advice to those in need. Soon enough though, Jeongin’s problems and past are revealed to be darker and more complicated than Y/N had even begun to imagine.

Genres: SMAU + Written. Non-Idol! AU. University! AU. Supernatural. Horror. Drama. Mystery/Thriller. Angst. Romance. Fluff. Humor/Crack. Smut.

Status: Coming Soon…

— Start Date: TBA

— End Date: TBA

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Heavy Dark/ Horror Themes. Violence/Gore. Kidnapping. Abuse. Death. DEMONS. Blasphemy/Sacrilege. Cults. Sacrifices. Depression/ Anxiety. Suicidal Thoughts & Tendencies. Self Harm/ Eating Disorders. Dark Humor & Possibly Offensive Humor. Awful Gen Z Humor. Polyamory. Member X Member. Smut.

Author’s Note: The content of this version will be darker. Many things that could be triggering or offensive for others will be discussed. For chapters that are especially triggering, I have decided to mark it as such and then put a summary of what happens towards the end. That way if you wish to skip over a chapter due to its contents, you should be able to without too much of a problem.

So before reading, please go over all of the warnings. Not only are there things that may trigger people but there’s also polyamorous relationships and member x member. If any of this makes you uncomfortable, do not read. And if I don’t put a warning for something you feel I should, please let me know.

But all in all, this is a work of FICTION. It’s created from my imagination. I created this for me, how I wanted to. Nothing more and nothing less. Do I know how to summon demons? Nope. Not at all. Do I remember everything I learned in Catholic school (even though I was in it for 12 years😬). Absolutely not. Barely any research was done so there is definitely inaccuracies. Do not take anything here as fact please.

With all that being said, I hope you enjoy :)

Profiles

Area 51👽 | Brochachos 😮‍💨 | The Hyungs™️

Chapter Masterlist

THE PROLOGUE (Written).

Chapter I: Just A Little Side Quest.

Taglist (Open): @lily-loves-kpop @f9clementine @bookswillfindyouaway @lilyuwon @kpopjackie @i-dont-know-me-either @tirena1 @velvetmoonlght @whiteghostt @iambangchanswife @mehli-00 @chantalkkate16 @briar-rose23 @fic-for-readers @to-toad @fr34k4c1dr41n @jiryunie @estella-novella @rhonnie23 @fackeraccount

©️heybrownieboy 2025

[bonnie-the-butcher]

Rip Tide | Chapter II

[ MDNI ] [ word count: 6.978 ] [ Masterlist ] 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Canonverse/Canon-Divergent; Dark! Content; NSFW; Strong Language; Cheating; Drug Use; OVERDOSE; Some shades of Munchausen syndrome from dear old Rafe; Manipulation; Toxic, obsessive behaviour; Stalking; Violence; DUBCON/NONCON; My writing is really pretentious and English is not my first language, so please feel free to call me out in whichever grammar mistakes you might find find.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You and JJ have always been in each other's orbit. He's your brother’s best friend, the guy you've known your entire life. He was kind, protective, familiar. You never meant for the two of you to start hooking up. And you never meant for it to last so long. But when this boy you thought you'd come to know like the back of your hand turns out to be no better than the men he'd warned you about, you find yourself in the sights of the guy he hates most, regardless of wether you want that or not.

Likes, asks reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. This chapter is a little heavier than the previous one. Please read the warnings and proceed accordingly. You can skip this chapter or skip the story altogether if this is a trigger for you. PUT YOUR MENTAL HEALTH FIRST.

You press your hands against your ears and close your eyes, willing yourself to wake up from whatever nightmare dimension you’d just been thrown in. You do the whole routine: pinch your arm, think of math problems, look at the time, but to no avail. Every time you open your eyes, there you are, in Rafe Cameron’s Range Rover, heading God knows where to a party you were most definitely gonna regret going to.

Barry doesn't share in your dread. He holds you against his chest, bursting out in laughter every so often as he points out different ways the pogues had humiliated themselves thanks to you. And Rafe, king kook, the man who your brother had sworn to kill more than once, steers the car, all but crying in laughter. Every now and then you’d feel him glancing over at you, lips quirking in a strange smile.

You were fucked.

Completely and utterly fucked.

You gazed at the car door longingly, pondering what your odds would be if you just got it over with, and jumped out of the moving vehicle straight into the road. But your daydreams were interrupted as your best friend pushed you softly, turning to you with that shit-eating grin:

– Quit acting like you’re going to your execution, sweetheart. You know damn well you enjoyed every minute of that as much as we did. – You couldn’t tell if he was being serious or just trying to get you angry, and honestly, you didn’t know which was worse. – Damn. Just the look on his face when you jumped in. Shit was a kodak moment.

– I’m gonna be on my deathbed, still laughing at the thought of JJ falling face-first into the ground. – Rafe added, breathless with joy, the words stained by his ear-to-ear smile.

Barry did a double take: – He fell?!

– Bro, you didn’t see it?! – the blonde’s cackling resounded around the car. – It was fucking priceless!

– Sweetheart, please tell me you have security cameras!

– Why would she, man? Who’d wanna rob that dump? – You were taking a deep breath, planning not to be offended, but Barry laughed just then.

– I swear to God, Barry, if I hear your trailer trash ass laugh at my house one more time, I will choke you in this passenger seat.

– Oh, believe me, I don’t want no beef with your house. Someone might say beetlejuice three times while I’m near and God knows what will happen, then.

You’re disappointed more than anything to hear Rafe laugh so hard at that half-baked joke. – Haunted house, really? Is that what you’re going with? If you’re gonna humiliate me, at least make it funny.

– Sweetheart, I don’t know why you thought that was a joke. It’s a warning. Your house is haunted. You need to get out of there.

– I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were living at the Four Seasons.

Rafe snorts, a mix between a laugh and a scoff:

– No offense, but Barry’s place actually looks like the Four Seasons when you compare it to your house.

– Rafe.

– I’m just saying! I’d be as miserable as your brother is if I had to spend a fucking second there, let alone my entire life. Like, I wouldn’t be surprised if I woke up and a gremlin was at the foot of my bed, telling me to leave.

Barry didn’t miss a beat: – What are you talking about man, what would JJ be doing at the foot of your bed?!

– Shining my shoe, probably.

You scoff, unamused:

– You guys are so funny, you know? I’m laughing sooo much.

– Lighten up, sweetheart. You’re acting like this shit is the end of the world.

– Oh, but it’s not. It’s not the end of the world, Barry, the world is fine. It’s just the end of my life. What time is it now? Quarter to seven? In eight hours I’m gonna be stepping out of this Range Rover, and when I walk into my house John’s gonna hit me over the head with a shovel and bury me out in the backyard!

– Not the backyard! – Rafe mocks.

– Yeah, sweetheart. Just cause you’re hause looks haunted, doesn’t mean that you have to do it.

You chuckle slightly, wiping your hand over your face. The absurdity of it all is starting to sink in. You don't want to laugh, you really don't, but you can't help it. Because maybe—just maybe—you’ve resigned yourself to this entire shitshow of a night. – Fuck you, Barry.

The chuckles come out in spurts, unexpected, but loud enough for them to catch it. Barry grins, leaning in closer. He pulls your hair away from your face with a grin, pointing at the smile on your lips as if he’d found a gold mine.

– There it is, sweetheart. I knew you had it in you.

Rafe catches your eye as he looks over, a gleam of amusement in his gaze. You can’t help but roll your eyes.

– Oh yeah, – You mumble – I’m definitely losing my mind. That’s gotta be it.

– No, no, no. Your little surfer rat friends were the ones driving you crazy. We’re helping you out, that’s what we’re doing.

Rafe’s voice is almost too smug for how proud he sounds.

You snort, both annoyed and entertained. – My savior! – You deadpan. – Whatever would I do if you weren’t there to rescue me from the claws of my evil older brother?

Rafe chuckles, leaning in a little closer, like he’s enjoying the way you’re playing along.

– I don’t know, get rat fever or some shit? Whatever it is that they’re passing around to each other all day. – he says, his voice almost too smooth, as you and Barry both recoil in disgust of the picture he’s painted. – But hey, at least you'd still have your looks. That’s gotta count for something.

You shoot him with a side-eye, laughing at the absurdity.

– Aren’t you a charmer? Tell me, Rafe, do you threaten every girl you talk to with the possibility of dying from disease or am I just that special?

His smirk widens, and he shakes his head. – Your guess, beautiful.

Barry cuts in:

– You better not flirt with her too much, Country Club. JJ might come after you.

Your smile couldn’t fade any quicker if you tried. – Let’s not talk about that.

– Oh we’re talking about it, alright. You’ve got a brand new guard dog, and you don’t even say shit to me? Y’know I could use someone to keep the merchandise safe.

– Chill out, Pablo Escobar. Nobody’s trying to steal your stash.

Barry shrugs, leaning back in the seat as he rolls his eyes. – You say that now, but I wouldn’t be surprised if your brother and his little rat pack are plotting some Mission Impossible shit to break into my place.

– Please. – You scoff, crossing your arms. – They’d probably trip over their own feet trying to climb your fence.

Rafe snickers, tapping the steering wheel. – That’s if they could even find your place, man. You practically need a treasure map just to figure out where the hell you live.

Barry flips him off lazily, but you can’t help but laugh.

Then the realization hits you. – Wait, where is this party, again? – you ask, glancing between the two.

– Don’t worry, you’ll like it there.

– Oh, I will. It’s my last day on earth. That’s not what I’m worried about.

– Country Club here’s the navigator tonight. I’m just the moral support.

Rafe smirks but for once doesn’t take his eyes off the road. – Moral support, my ass. You just didn’t want to waste gas getting your own car.

– You know gas ain’t cheap, man. Not all of us are rolling in daddy’s money.

– Right, – Rafe drawls. – But you’ve got no problem freeloading off me.

– Call it historical reparation. – Barry counters with a grin, and you roll your eyes.

– Seriously, where are we going?

– Figure Eight.

Your stomach drops. – You’re kidding.

– Didn’t I already tell you that? – Barry quips, and you glance down at your outfit: your dad’s old marina shirt, a pair of cut-out shorts, and sneakers that had definitely seen better days.

– I can’t go dressed like this. – You gesture at yourself, already imagining the judgmental stares you’d get.

– You look fine. – He pauses, sitting back so he can have a better look at you. – Shit, sweetheart, you look more than fine.

His compliment throws you, so you laugh it off. – Shut up, Barry.

Rafe smirks, his eyes flicking over you in a way that makes you immediately self-conscious. – Take off your shirt. It’ll look nicer like that.

Your mouth falls open, heat rushing to your face as Barry bursts out laughing. – Chill, Country Club!

– Jesus Christ! – you exclaim, glaring at him, but the cocky grin on his face doesn’t waver. Caught off guard, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, trying to diffuse the tension: – The party’s at a nudist beach? Is that it?

Barry’s laughter grows louder, though his eyes flicker down to your chest. His grin sharpens, and for a split second, you catch him licking his lips, the idea amusing him a little too much. – That’d be a damn good party.

– Now I kinda wish it was. – Rafe murmurs, barely under his breath.

The air in the car feels heavier suddenly, like all the joking had edged into something else. Barry’s laughter fades into the background as your heart skips a beat. You clear your throat, forcing out a chuckle. – Right. Well, hate to disappoint, but I think I’ll keep my shirt on, thanks. Turn around here, Rafe. – You point to a dirt path to the right.

– Why? – He hums, though he’s already turning, and his hand brushes your leg for a little too long as he reaches to shift the gears.

– It’s a shortcut to Barry’s. I’ve got some clothes there.

– When did you ever leave clothes at my place?

– Oh no, I didn’t leave them. Your hookups did. Half of my closet comes from your conquests.

Barry gives you a long hum, raising a brow, yet still grinning. – So that’s where my “lost and found” is going.

You steer Rafe in the right direction, looking straight ahead in an attempt to avoid his eyes. – You should really change it to just “lost”, y’know? I’m the only one who finds it, it’s not like they come back.

Barry flips you off, tsking under his breath as the car rolls to a stop before his trailer.

You step out, grateful for the fresh air despite the faint smell of salt and weed lingering around Barry’s place. The house isn’t much to look at, but it’s not a complete wreck either, and the little things you left around through the years to make it seem less like a shithole sure did the job.

– I’ll be quick, – you announce, already heading for the door. – Don’t get too comfortable.

– Take your time, sweetheart.

You nod, pushing your way inside. The air is stale but familiar, and you head straight for Barry’s room. The “lost and found” drawer is where you remember it, stuffed with random clothes that have no rhyme or reason. You sift through the mess, trying to avoid touching the more questionable items—like the endless pairs of mismatched underwear—until your fingers brush against something soft and smooth.

The skirt’s fabric is lightweight, almost slippery against your skin, and you can’t help but pause to run your thumb over it. It’s simple but pretty, and you decide it’ll do. Holding it up, you eye it over briefly before tucking it under your arm along with a cute top you find nearby, on his nightstand.

You can faintly hear Barry and Rafe talking outside. Their voices are muffled, and you can’t make out the words, but it's not hard to guess what they’re doing. Barry cuts up quickly, the sound of a random old credit card banging against the glass table outside echoing around the small place. You shake your head, making your way to the bathroom.

You set the clothes on the sink and catch your reflection in the mirror. The reflection staring back at you wasn't unfamiliar, bruises weren’t exactly a rarity in your life, but the one forming around your arm gave you pause. The faint black and blue watercolor stops you cold, a dark smudge against your skin.

You knew it would happen, of course. John’s grip earlier hadn’t exactly been gentle. But seeing it there stirs something inside you—guilt, anger, a mixture of both.

You touch it lightly, wincing at the tenderness. Great. You can bet that if you asked John what that stupid fight you just had was about, he'd be able to give you a play by play, but as soon as he saw this thing on arm —this thing that he'd done— he’d be asking who did it, why didn't you say anything and for how long it had been there.

The thought of your brother sends a sigh out of you. And your mind reels back the bad memories, the memories about how things used to be.

You wanted to believe that his sudden shift toward caring was a good thing, a sign that maybe your relationship could finally improve. But if this mark on your arm was proof of anything, it told you that this protectiveness he'd suddenly pivoted to wasn't going to end great, and leaving like you did tonight only added another crack to that already fragile foundation.

You dread the moment you have to return. Not because of the eventual screaming and fighting, or the possibility of new bruises to accompany his chorus of complaints, but because of the look he'll have on his face right before he realizes you’re back. —The worry, the anxiety of not knowing if you would return.— You know that look better than anyone, because you could feel it on your face every time you looked at the river bank where your father once docked his boat.

Your heart tugs painfully at the thought of his worry, despite knowing it would turn to rage as soon as he saw your face, and you reached for your back pocket, trying to think of something to text him, when the scene flashes in your mind again: His hands wrestling the phone out of your hand, the joyless smile on his face as he held it over your head, beckoning you to grab it.

Your ears aren't burning, but you can bet he's calling you all sorts of names right now.

You'd be surprised if he hasn't thrown your phone in the river. You wince at that thought, knowing you don't have the money for another one. There's barely enough cash for groceries as it is.

But you sigh, resigned, pushing the thought away as you reach for the borrowed clothes. The skirt’s fabric is cool and smooth under your fingers, the kind of material that whispered against the skin. You eye it for a moment, wondering what something so nice was doing buried in the back of Barry's drawer. It's rare you ever have anything nice for yourself.

You’re mid-thought, slipping on the skirt, when the door suddenly swings open. You freeze, your heart jumping to your throat as Rafe steps in. He stops in his tracks, his blown-out eyes widening for a split second before he smirks.

– Oh, – he drawls, standing in the doorway holding tight to the door frame as a crooked smile splits his face. – My bad. Didn’t know you were in here.

– Rafe, get out! – You snap, grabbing the top to cover yourself.

He doesn’t move right away, though. He chuckles, glancing down, and leans in. His hand brushes your bra strap, and you push him away. – You could just go like that, you know. Saves time.

– Out. Now.

– That tattoo is pretty. – He mumbles, you look down at the ink for a split second, and push him away again.

– OUT.

He finally turns, hands over his head in mock surrender. His movements sluggish as he steps away. You slam the door closed, wishing you could shut the door on this memory forever, and pressing your hands into your eyes, cheeks burning against the heel of your palms.

Maybe it was because you’d been humiliated so many times tonight that your body just can't process another hit, but you sit in that moment as if it had burned you. You stare at yourself in the mirror, running your hands under cold water, trying to shake off the shame that still burns under your skin.

You take a deep breath, then another, then push the door open, stepping back into the thick, hazy air of the house. Barry was right there, leaning against the wall with a cigarette tucked behind his ear. He meets you with a wolf-whistle, giving you a slow once-over before grinning – No idea who that skirt belonged to, but I know for damn sure it looks better on you than it did on her.

You scoff and roll your eyes, as the awkwardness that comes from flattery flutters up to your face, but before you can say anything, another voice cuts in.

– Looked better when you weren’t wearing it.

Rafe’s voice is thick, sluggish. You turn, meeting his gaze for a moment that seems to last a lifetime. His eyes are dilated, lidded, for a split second it seems like he’s struggling to keep them open, but you glimpse at that bright, almost radioactive blue while he smirks up at you, and a wave of feelings washes over. He runs a sweaty hand through his damp hair, blinking like the lights were too bright, like he was a second away from melting into the floor.

Barry’s expression shifts, amusement flattening into something sharper, something just shy of irritation. He doesn’t look mad, not really, but he isn’t entertained either.

– Alright, that was funny at first, man, but now you’re starting to piss me off.

Rafe only laughs, breathy and uneven. His shoulders curl inward slightly, his hand pressing flat against his chest.

The sound isn’t right. Every breath he takes feels off, like his body has forgotten how to regulate itself.

– Rafe?

Barry’s voice was firm. No answer.

You were closer, closer than Barry, and that meant you could see it first. The way his face twitched. The way his body swayed.

– Rafe.

Nothing. Your stomach turned.

You glanced at Barry, but he was already looking at you, his jaw tight.

– He isn't well. – You’re not pleased by the obviousness of your statement, but you double down. – Rafe, what’s going on?

The second the words left your mouth, Rafe faltered. His knees buckle, and before you could think, before you could process, he collapses into you, his weight knocking the breath from your lungs.

– Shit. Shit. Hey, hey—Rafe, look at me.

You gripped his face, shaking him slightly, trying to get his eyes to focus. He mumbled something, but it was nothing, just a string of syllables with no meaning, no coherence.

Then Barry was there, looming over the both of you. His eyes weren’t wide with shock or fear. They were narrow, jaw clenched tight. He stood there for a second, just watching, just breathing. And then suddenly, he lunged forward, grabbing Rafe by the collar and shaking him.

– What the fuck did you take? – Rafe didn’t answer, barely even reacted. Barry’s grip tightened. – Do you hear me, you fucking crackhead?! What the fuck did you take?!

You barely registered the pounding in your skull as you snapped:

– What’s happening?!

Barry didn’t look at you. His attention was locked on Rafe, his grip unrelenting.

– What’s happening is that Rafe’s a fucking moron, that’s what’s fucking happening!

Your pulse roared in your ears. Barry shook him again.

– What did you take, Cameron?!

Rafe inhaled sharply, he makes a couple sounds, just as incoherent as before. His hands fist the fabric of your skirt, eyes fluttering between you and Barry, lips moving soundlessly until he exhaled one word, slurred and barely audible:

– Xanax.

That didn’t calm Barry. If anything, it made him angrier. He shoved Rafe back, sending you both to the ground, dragging his hands through his hair in a frenzy.

– FUCK!

The word came like an explosion. Whatever was in his hand went flying, shattering against the wall. You flinched before you could stop yourself, clutching Rafe tighter, your nails digging into his clammy skin.

– Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die— You didn’t even realize you were saying it out loud until Barry’s pacing snapped you out of it. – We need to do something! W-what do we do? – Your voice was thin, cracked around the edges. Your head was spinning. You were scrambling through every piece of information you’d ever heard, anything, anything – Naloxone—should we try naloxone? Or—should we try to get him to puke?

Barry cut you off.

– That’s not gonna do shit! The pills are already in his system, the coke’s already snorted! We can’t get that shit out of him!

– Then what? What do we do?!

– I don’t fucking know!

He turned away again, pacing, cursing, shaking his head like he was trying to shake the whole night off of him.

And that’s when it happened. That moment. That split second where everything should’ve gone numb, where your brain should’ve shut down, checked out, but it didn’t.

You felt everything.

Rafe’s breath, uneven and wrong. His half-open eyes, staring through you. His body trembling, like every nerve ending in him was screaming in agony.

You couldn’t breathe.

Barry suddenly spun on his heel and rushed inside.

– Where are you going?! Barry. Barry! Talk to me! Where the fuck are you going?!

He didn’t answer.

You nearly got up to follow, but then—

– Mmh—

Rafe groaned, weak, so fragile it made something in you snap.

You couldn’t leave him. Not like this.

Barry came back seconds later, shoving something into your hands. A plastic bag filled with some kind of powder.

– W-what is this?!

He didn’t answer immediately, rushing back with a water bottle, pushing that into your hands, too.

– Activated charcoal. Dump half the bag in there and shake it.

Your hands trembled, eyes darting between the bag and Rafe, between Barry and the door.

– And then what?!

Barry wasn’t looking at you. He was searching for something, grabbing his helmet.

– Then you give it to him. Make sure he drinks it. Don’t let him puke it up. Not for a while, at least.

– What-what are you doing?! – Your voice was sharp, frantic. Barry avoided your gaze, snapping his helmet on. – Barry! You can’t do this to me right now! You can’t just leave me here again! I’m gonna end up killing him!

He exhaled sharply.

– I have to go.

– Go?! You can’t fucking go! I don’t know what to do, you can’t just leave me here!

He didn’t meet your eyes. He just shook his head, looking everywhere but at Rafe, the walls, his hands, the floor. His gaze shifted almost desperately, and when he spoke, you caught a sort of shakiness in his voice that he couldn’t mask as anger. – Just do what I said.

– Barry, please— Barry!

You reached for him, but before you could, Rafe curled into you, his fingers weakly gripping your wrist.

You were stuck.

Stuck between your best friend, who was abandoning you, and Rafe Cameron, who might actually fucking die in your arms.

Tears blurred your vision, but you forced them back. Your hands trembled as you tore the bag open, powder spilling onto your fingers, onto Rafe’s skin.

His breathing was getting worse.

Your own breath hitched, but you forced yourself to move. Shaking, you dumped the powder into the water, mixing it as best as you could.

– You’re gonna be okay.

Your voice wavered as you lifted the bottle to his lips.

– You’re gonna be fine, Rafe.

You tilted it gently, coaxing him to drink.

– Everything’s gonna be okay.

The words felt like a lie.

Rafe barely managed to swallow, his fingers weakly gripping your sleeve.

He's still clinging to you, breathless and half-conscious, his shoulders relaxing, the shaking slowly going away.

The hours got away from you.

Sat there on the floor with Rafe in your arms, you were frozen. Shell-shocked. At some point, your hand had drifted down to his chest, and you left it there, shaking over him, almost lulled by the erratic beating of his heart.

He didn’t move much either.

You shook him a couple times, feeling the panic spike inside you again, and only then he opened his eyes, gaze lingering on your crying face for what felt like centuries, until he curled up closer, and that radioactive blue you’d come to be so familiar with over the night disappearing behind his eyelids again.

You’re not sure how much time has passed when he suddenly shoots up, so suddenly that, for a second, you don’t even react. His body jerks away from you, retching.

Rafe scrambles to his feet, managing to take maybe two or three steps into the grass before he falls to his knees again. He heaves violently, and your stomach clenches at the sound of it, at the sharp gag that follows. He pitches forward, one arm barely catching him on the floor before he spews his guts onto the grass beneath him.

You should move. You should move.

But you can’t.

You’re just sitting there, watching him.

The vomit is grey, almost completely liquid. His whole body shudders, fingers twitching against the soil. For a moment, you swear he looks smaller, weaker.

Not Rafe Cameron. Not the boy that smirks like he owns the whole world. Just a person. Some kid that almost died in your arms.

Your instincts take over as you see him falter again, rushing forward, steadying him before he can fall face-first into his own sick. Your hands shake as they find his head, holding him upright, keeping him there.

But he doesn’t stay put for long. Rafe lets himself fall back into you as he gasps and groans, his hand wrapped around your wrist. – Thank you. – He whispers. You hate the words, hate being the object of gratitude, but you’re quiet for a moment as he catches his breath.

You’re still holding his head, brushing his hair off his face. – You’re fine. You’re gonna be okay. – Your sympathetic platitudes sound more sincere now that you’re more certain he won’t just drop dead, but the noises he makes, the groaning, the mumbling. Rafe splutters painfully, his eyes screwed shut.

You try not to breathe as he presses himself into your arms again, as firm as jelly. – Ugh. Shit.

– How are you feeling?

He breathes in deep. His hair brushes against your neck as he lays back into your chest, eyes still tightly closed despite the fact you two had been sitting on that dark porch for hours. – My head… – The suggestion of pain is all he can manage to verbalize, so you don’t push him any further.

– I’ll go get you some water. Just sit still, okay? – You shift, only moving slightly, but he stops you before you can even stand. – Rafe.

– Don’t. Don’t do that.

– I’ll be right back.

– Don’t lea—don’t leave me here. – It hurts to hear it. Hurts to see the hollowness in his face as he begs, hanging onto you like a lifeline.

You soften your voice. – I'll be right back, I promise.

– I don—I don't want water. I'm fine.

– You’re clearly not fine, just let me— The kook pulls you back, back into him, back onto the ground. A flash of his paper-white teeth meets your eye, and the chuckle he lets out rumbles against your skin, warm and breathy. – This isn't funny, Rafe.

– Wanna bet?

– Just stop it. Stop it, man! Look at you! You're a mess! You almost died!

– Didn't though.

You roll your eyes before you can help it. – Are you kidding? You better be kidding.

– I am alive, – He takes a hold of your hand, sitting idly on his shoulder, and pulls it to his chest, where it had been before. His heart thumps steadily under your touch, though it isn't exactly normal. – See? It's a miracle! It's aliiiive!

He giggles stupidly, his smile somewhat tainted by the pounding in his head.

– You're hilarious. Now can I please get up?

– Don’t want you to.

– No. You need me to. Is your ass gonna walk to the kitchen? You can't even stand up.

– Baby, I'm fine.

You disregard the random nickname, though the smile he gives you sends a shiver down your spine. – You don't know that, Rafe. – The smile on his face shifts from mocking to mischief as he raises a brow, and you can feel your own face fall when the realization finally dawns on you. – You… You do know. Are— Are you INSANE?! Why the fuck would you do that, Rafe?! You almost died!

He exhales, still smiling. – It’s not like that, okay? I just got the doses mixed up.

– Mi— You stop yourself short, facepalming. – Mixed up?! You should never mix those two things in the first place! A stimulant and a retardant, at the SAME TIME? No shit your body shut down, what else did you expect to happen?!

– It was just the dose, okay? It feels nice if you do it right.

– It feels nice? – You stagger. – “It feels nice”? You've done this before?

The words don’t register. Not at first. Your brain scrambles to process what he just said.

It feels nice if you do it right.

The way he says it, so casual, so indifferent, makes your stomach turn. Like he wasn’t completely limp in your arms a moment ago, like he wasn’t this close to crossing a line he could never come back from. Like this was just another Saturday night for him.

You blink. You swallow. You try to will down the rising irritation in your chest.

And Rafe? Rafe just leans back against you, impossibly lax, as if the weight of his own mortality hasn’t even touched him.

He laughs again, quieter this time, his breath warm against your skin.

The bastard doesn't even have the grace to answer you, he just chuckles softly, as if he’s talking to a child, as if he hadn't just brushed so close against death you could still smell it on him.

– You— Your voice catches. You shake your head, pressing your fingers to your temple, trying to force some kind of logic into the moment. – You almost died, Rafe!

– Didn’t though. – He murmurs.

The smugness in his voice is unbearable. You feel like shaking him, like splitting his head open to see if the memory was there at all, to see if the sudden hit at his nervous system hadn’t thrown him into some realm of delusion.

– Don’t. Don’t do this shit. It wasn’t funny the first you said it, and it sure as hell isn’t funny now.

– Baby, look. You’re overreacting, it’s okay. I’m okay.

Your brain does not register the words after “overreacting”. You feel like you’re short-circuiting, like this whole moment is some stupid comedy skit where the world has gone crazy and you’re the butt of the joke for not catching on.

– Jesus Christ. – You whisper. – I should’ve let you fall on your face. I should have. Maybe that would’ve knocked some fucking sense into you.

Rafe tilts his head back just enough to look at you, grinning, like this was some great joke you’re both in on. – Shit, maybe. – He chuckles. – You didn’t, though. You wouldn’t.

The worst part?

He’s right.

You wouldn’t. Of course you wouldn’t.

You sit there, staring at him, at the lazy smirk on his lips, at the complete and utter lack of concern in his eyes. It’s like watching someone sleepwalk through a minefield, completely unaware of how close they came to blowing themselves apart. Worse, completely unfazed by it.

Your hands flex against your thighs. A bitter thought creeps in—why does it always have to be you? Why do you always end up cleaning up the mess for people who don’t even care if they survive it?

First Barry. Now Rafe.

It’s not a new pattern. You’ve seen this play out before.

Barry did those kinds of stupid things exactly for the same reasons —To feel good, even if it’s just for a minute, even if this momentary pleasantness can only happen at the doom of everything else.— The sad thing is that both of them think people can’t see through that. That need to do crazy, wild, reckless things that they think are just fun and games, knowing things can —and most likely will— go wrong, just so that the people around them, those people that did nothing but ignore them, and neglect them, would look their way.

And though they usually never did, someone was always there to fix it for them.

Rafe’s someone was his father. Barry’s someone was you.

You think of the way Sarah speaks about Ward. Like he’s hung the moon up in the sky, and it sounds exactly like how John spoke of him. How he thought of him. How he still does. You've worked for the Camerons a couple times. You knew Ward. You know how he treated his son.

Still, every time Rafe got in enough of a fight with your brother’s friends that they ended up at the Station, there was Ward, to make it all go away.

You think of Barry when you were kids, the way he used to flinch whenever someone mentioned his father, the way he refused to go home until he absolutely had to. His mom was gone, his dad was an asshole, and the rest of his family was too busy pretending he didn’t exist to care what happened to him. You weren’t much different. The two of you were just a couple of kids that no one was really looking for, drifting through life, trying to figure out where the hell you were supposed to go. It made sense that you stuck together.

But Barry leaves you behind all the time.

And though you hate to give John the right to say “I told you so”, you know tonight isn’t an exception. It’s just another reminder.

He’d always been careless, reckless in a different way—never planning for tomorrow, always looking for the next easy out. And even as kids, whenever the two of you got into trouble, you were always the one who cleaned up the mess. You were the one who had to make sure he wasn’t living off the food he stole from house parties, who patched him up when he got in fights, who made sure he didn’t get himself killed.

When you met, you’d both been desperate for something, anything, to fill the void. For Barry, it was drugs and trouble. For you, it was Barry.

It wasn’t the first time, and you know it won’t be the last. He always leaves you holding the bag, trying to figure out how to cut the wire before the bomb goes out. Its painful, because you know he has it hard, harder than you. And maybe that’s why he does this to you all the time. He’s older than you, he’s been alone for longer. So when push comes to shove, he always makes sure he’s okay first.

And though you know he isn’t trying to screw you over, or at least so you hope, that doesn’t make it any easier. And maybe—maybe—this resentment you’re feeling has been there for longer than you realized.

The thought is ugly. But it’s there.

Rafe shifts against you, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts. You blink, refocusing, and find his eyes on you, the exhaustion weighing heavy in them, but still glinting with that same unreadable amusement.

– What are you thinking about? – He’s looking at you now, head tilted slightly, still sprawled against the floor like he has all the time in the world.

You shake your head. – Nothing. I’m getting you some water.

You try to pull away, but Rafe holds on, his grip tightening just enough to keep you in place. His fingers latch onto your leg, curling around your ankle, and he tugs—not hard, but enough that you stumble slightly. – You’re thinking about something. C’mon, you can tell me.

– Yeah I can. You won't be conscious for long enough to remember it.

– Great. So tell me.

– You need the water, Cameron. Just let me go.

– What I need is for you to stop worrying so much. – His voice is slurred, thick with whatever is still running through his system, but there’s amusement there too. Like this is funny to him. – I can keep a secret, y’know? Promise your asshole brother and his little cult won’t find out.

– Let go of me, Rafe. – You glare down at him, but he just grins, pulling again, enough to make you step back.

– Nah, stay. You’re warm.

– I’m gonna be real fucking cold in a second if you don’t let go.

That makes him laugh. A deep, rough sound that rattles through his chest. – Just tell me what you’re thinking about.

– I’m thinking about how you’re an idiot. And how I’m apparently the only person in this conversation who cares if you live or die.

– You care about me? That’s cute.

– Don’t flatter yourself. – You shoot back. – Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit. Or dive straight into it. – You frown, pulling him away from the wretch. – Get on the couch. The ground is filthy.

Rafe’s happy to let you pull him around, as he does nothing to help but throw an arm over the cushions and lay back. – You’re good at it, though. Taking care of people. You’ve got, like, a vibe.

– A vibe? – You echo, lips twisting into a smile despite yourself. – What vibe is that?

He shrugs, smirk widening. – A hot vibe.

– You’re unbelievable.

– And yet, here you are. – He laughs. – Putting up with it. You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you liked me.

– Yeah, well, it’s a good thing you do then. – You scoff, shaking off his hands. But he’s still chuckling as you step inside the trailer, and his laughter follows you all the way in.

Barry’s trailer is a mess, as expected. Clothes draped over furniture, an ashtray overflowing on the coffee table, empty beer bottles scattered around.

When you pull the fridge open, a wave of cold air rushes out. Only then you realize how hot it is out, the damp, humid climate clinging to your skin even as you stand there. The shelves are mostly bare, save for a few instant ramen cups and a pack of American cheese that might not even be good anymore. The only thing that seems fully stocked is the beer.

Figures.

You grab a bottle of water and head back outside. Rafe hasn’t moved much. He’s managed to drag himself into a slightly more upright position, but he still looks like he could pass out.

– C’mon, – you sigh, reaching for him. – Let’s get you up.

He doesn’t argue, but he doesn’t exactly help either. He’s heavy, leaning against you like dead weight, and it takes everything in you to lift him onto the couch. You drop down beside him, handing him the bottle.

– Drink.

He takes it, twisting the cap off with shaky fingers before bringing it to his lips.

Rafe takes a long sip, then looks up at you, eyes glinting. – What do I get if I finish it?

– Hydration.

He chuckles slightly, that glint in his eye growing brighter as his smirk widens. – No gold star, no nothing? That’s not right. I’m being a very good boy right now. And what? I don’t even get a sticker?

– Tell you what, you finish this bottle and I won’t tell the teacher you misbehaved, how ‘bout that?

You watch as he drinks, throat bobbing with each swallow, before he finally lowers it, exhaling deeply. Rafe hums, his lips twitching up. – Where’s my gold star?

You scoff, leaning back. – I'll show you where it is.

He doesn’t respond right away. Just watches you. The silence stretches for a beat too long, and something in his expression shifts—something unreadable, something you don’t have the energy to try and decipher.

You clear your throat. – Can you stand?

He shifts, testing his weight as he pushes up from the couch. You stay close, hands hovering, ready to catch him if he goes down again. He wobbles, but he stays up.

– Keys, – you say, holding out your hand.

He raises a brow. – Already looking to split the assets? We’re not even married yet.

You roll your eyes, fingers curling impatiently. – Rafe. – With an exaggerated sigh, he digs into his pocket and hands you the keys. – I’m taking you home.

He doesn’t argue. Just takes your wrist, turning it slightly so he can glance at your watch.

– Almost ten, – he murmurs. – Everyone’ll be asleep by the time we get there. – He pauses, glancing up at you with a lazy smirk. – Won’t be the first time I’ve snuck a girl into the house.

You ignore him, looping an arm around his waist as you guide him toward the car. He leans into you more than he needs to, his body pressing into your side as you help him into the passenger seat. You’re careful with him, though there's a part of you that is confused at how he seems to be okay one minute, and completely helpless the next.

The drive isn’t long, but it feels longer.

Your fingers tap against the steering wheel as you approach his driveway, nerves prickling under your skin. You don’t need someone seeing you. You don’t need this getting back to John B.

You park, cutting the engine, already looking at the windows, searching for movement. Rafe lets out a small laugh. – Relax. – He grins. – No one's watching.

[honeyhotteoks]

this night together - chapter twelve (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter twelve: home is always home

chapter summary: you were planning to tell them how you felt on saturday, but when things go sideways at the studio you find yourself running home as fast as you can.

warnings: this is the chapter i've been warning about for a long, long time. please read responsibly if you're easily triggered by any of the following topics - guy who can't take no for an answer, aggressive/sexist language, physical and verbal assault, panic/ptsd, physical injury/blood, hospitals, police interaction (mentioned), nightmares/night terrors, self harm (sort of?)

notes: please note, if you're reading this on or around 12.3.23 when i'm posting, i've put up three chapters at once. make sure you don't skip chapter ten and eleven! additional notes under the cut~!

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 11.6k

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for my readers who aren't that familiar with a/b/o, i'm introducing something in this chapter that you may not have seen before. i wanted to add some context! if you're new to a/b/o, there is something that alphas have often called "alpha tone", "alpha voice", or just "tone". alphas in many depictions have the ability to lower their voice in a particular way that is seen as a strict command to an omega, and it triggers/activates their submission. this is something that can be used negatively or positively, but in this scene will be negative. there's also something called headspace/subspace that you will see referenced, and an omega can be put into headspace/subspace via alpha tone. it is a bit of a dissociative state where the omega can only really hear and understand commands. this can be used negatively or positively as well, but again, definitely not good in this scene. i hope that helps.... and happy/responsible reading!!

You really, really wish today was Saturday and not Thursday. Thursday just means you still have to get through Friday and then all of Saturday morning before your scheduled dinner with Yunho and Mingi and all the things you want to say are practically eating you up inside. But there’s a right way and a wrong way to tell someone you’ve been an idiot and you’re in love with them, and blurting it out in the middle of dance practice isn’t really going to help make this easier. 

God, you hope they still want you. 

On the plus side, this week has been insane. With the full crew back things are moving at a million miles per hour, and you’ve been in more meetings about what’s coming up next in the past week than the entire time you’ve worked for BB Trippin and KQ.

Your schedule for the next six months is frankly intense. Between preparing for year-end stages and working on the choreography for the newly debuting girl group, you’re juggling conversations about New World’s next comeback and the next round of touring. With the money coming in now there’s an opportunity to take more dancers, and that just means more late nights and early mornings getting everything right. 

It’s after your third concept planning meeting of the week that you find two minutes to talk to Wooyoung, his bag already slung over his shoulder as he refills his water bottle. 

“So, you’re going?” You ask him vaguely, trying not to tip off anyone else in the vicinity that he’s got a date. 

“Yeah,” He nods, eyes flicking over your shoulder to see if San and Seonghwa are nearby, “I think I’m going to throw up,” 

“No, you’re not,” You assure him. 

“I might,” He whines, running a hand through his mop of long black hair, “I never know what to say to him,” 

“Woo,” 

“I know what to say to everyone, y/n,” He lowers his voice, panic evident in his eyes, “but every time Sangie smiles I go fucking blank,” 

“Sangie?” Your eyebrow quirks, “Is that what we’re calling him now,” 

“Shut up,” Wooyoung blushes. 

“Wow,” You prod him softly, “you’re down so bad, it’s been like three days,” 

“It’s so bad,” He grimaces, “this is embarrassing,” 

“Now you see how I feel,” You smirk, “it’s kind of fun being on this end of things,” 

“Please,” He rolls his eyes, “are you telling me you’re not panicking?” 

“Oh, no,” You laugh, “I definitely am. It’s just nice to know I’m not alone here,” 

“I was never this mean to you,”

You hold his gaze, just blinking, there’s nothing to say to that he doesn’t already know. 

“Okay, fine,” He sighs, “but still, feeling like this,” 

“Feeling like what?” Seonghwa’s voice shocks you both out of your quiet conversation and you both jump back from each other. 

“Jesus,” You breathe, “you scared me,” 

Seonghwa smiles, “Sorry,” he shrugs, “everything okay?” 

“Perfect,” Wooyoung takes a step back and shakes his head, “totally good,” 

Seonghwa’s brows come together in the middle, “You seem like something’s wrong, can I help?” 

Wooyoung almost blanches, and you know he’s dreading telling San and Seonghwa about Yeosang, so you jump in to help. “Woo was just helping me figure out Saturday,” You cover and draw Seonghwa’s attention back to you, “you know, figuring out what to say to them,”

“Oh,” Seonghwa nods, but you can see that he doesn’t really buy it, “right,” 

“Anyways,” Wooyoung starts walking backwards towards the exterior door, “I have to go, but you know, y/n, call me if you need to talk more later,” 

“I will,” You nod, “I definitely will.” 

Wooyoung knows that what you mean is that you want detailed date updates, and he almost looks mortified at the idea. He disappears fast, leaving you and Seonghwa relatively alone in the hallway. 

“What is up with him this week?” Seonghwa asks, confusion on his face. 

“He has a date,” You tell him quietly, “he’s kind of freaking out about it.” 

“Oh,” Seonghwa glances towards the door where Wooyoung just disappeared, “that’s not that weird for him,” 

“It is if he’s this interested after only a few days,” You say, “but don’t tease him. He’s kind of worked up about the whole thing,” 

“Who’s he seeing?” Seonghwa asks. 

“He should tell you that,” You beg off the gossip immediately, “just do me a favor and give him a little space to talk to you and San about it,” 

“Okay,” He draws out the word, not sure exactly where you’re going. 

“He’s nervous about upsetting the delicate balance,” You gesture towards him, referring to the carefully constructed relationship that is Wooyoung, San, and Seonghwa. 

“He’s seeing another alpha?” Seonghwa jumps to that conclusion with ease, and you can see how he would get there. 

You’re shaking your head before you can stop yourself, “It’s not that,” 

That does surprise him, and Seonghwa’s eyes widen a bit, “Oh,” 

“Right,” You nod, leading him to the conclusion as close as you can without spelling it out, “my point is, he’s nervous and he’s got a pretty serious crush, and he hasn’t said so but I think he’s scared you and San won’t approve.” 

“I would never,” He stumbles over his words, “out of anyone, we would never judge him, he has to know that,” 

“Hey,” You reach for Seonghwa, stepping a little closer so your voices stay low in the entryway as you brush your hand down his forearm, “he knows, he’s just panicking a little.” 

“Should I talk to him?” Seonghwa asks, his eyes earnest. 

“Not yet,” You shake your head, “he’ll figure it out, just don’t push him right now. I’ve never seen him this anxious,” 

“I won’t,” He promises, “thank you for telling me,” 

“Mhm,” 

Seonghwa chews over your words a second and then decides to let it drop. With a sigh he refocuses on work, “Are you staying late?” 

“Yeah,” You shrug, “I have some things to catch up on. You?” 

“I need to track down San,” He says, “but then after that I’m probably heading out a little early,” 

“Nice,” You nod, “still shaking off the jetlag?” 

He nods, “Unfortunately,” 

Down the hall you watch a few of the dancers gathering up their belongings, and then the door to the back office opens to reveal Yunho and Mingi, sitting close together and studying a computer screen as Jaemin leaves for the day. 

“Well,” Your feet are already moving, “then I’ll see you later,” 

“Sounds good,” He says, and then he gives you a knowing look, seeing exactly where you’re headed. 

Before you know it, you’re moving through the people in the hall and trying desperately to come up with a reason for crashing their tete-a-tete. 

“Hey,” You knock softly on the open door, “am I interrupting?” 

“No, no,” Yunho smiles when he sees you and your stomach bubbles. 

“We’re just watching back practice,” Mingi leans back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes. 

“Oh, nice,” You say, and your empty words do little to fill the empty space. 

“Do you… need something?” Yunho tries. 

“Ah, yeah, sorry,” You scramble internally for something to say, “I’m staying late, but I’m kind of starving, I just didn’t know if you still had stuff stashed?” 

“Sure,” He gestures towards the cabinets on the side wall, “whatever you want, help yourself,” 

“Great,” You dash towards the cabinets, and you can’t even imagine eating right now with how fluttery your insides have been, but you snag a couple of protein bars anyways. 

The silence is brutal. Not like before, not like the tense and uncomfortable angry silences of the past, but it’s still sitting there between you. Part of you wants to shut the door right now and just get it all out there, but again, you know you shouldn’t. 

Mingi’s warm, chocolatey scent is richer in here, evident after a hard practice of working up a sweat and being given a chance to permeate with the door closed. You feel your body naturally relaxing at it, so comforting and familiar, and then you get the first pang of Yunho’s warm, summer rain. 

You can hardly believe how you convinced yourself that this wasn’t scent sympathy when right here and now it’s so obvious they belong to you. You wonder if they feel it too. 

“Are you okay?” Mingi’s voice snaps you out of your sudden daydream staring at the cabinet full of snacks. 

“Yeah, yes,” You shut them and step back, “I’m fine, just a little tired.” 

“Not sleeping well?” Yunho says, concern all over his features. 

“I’m fine,” You wave him off, “just a busy week,” 

“You don’t have to stay late,” Mingi offers, “I’m sure whatever you’re working on will still be fine tomorrow,” 

“I know,” You nod, “but if I don’t get it out of my system I’ll just be thinking about it all night, you know how it is,” 

Mingi nods, “Still, take it easy later,” 

“I will,” You promise, and you start to turn towards the door when the words just bubble up out of your throat, “you’re both still free Saturday, right?” 

“Yeah,” Mingi answers for them both, “are you?” 

“Definitely,” You nod, “I just wanted to make sure, I’m looking forward to it,” 

“We could do tomorrow instead,” Yunho offers, “after practice?” 

“As long as you don’t have other plans,” Mingi cuts in, “for a Friday night,” 

“Tomorrow works,” You jump at the chance, “I’d actually love that, I just didn’t want to crowd you when you’re adjusting to the timezone again,” 

“It’s fine,” Mingi brushes that thought off, “I’d rather see you,” 

“Yeah,” Yunho nods, “it’ll be good to catch up,” 

You smile, “I want to hear all about the trip,” 

“The trip,” Mingi says, just repeating your words like he’s weighing them out on his own tongue. 

Something about his voice sends a sharp zing up the back of your spine. 

Your body feels a little soft, relaxing bit by bit. 

Yunho’s eyes flick over you, “Are you sure you need to stay late?” 

Something your primal little brain cannot handle right now is the thought of your alphas being protective, not when you’re standing in this room encased by their scents that feel a little too right. Your stomach tightens and you pray that you’re not blushing pink at the flickering thought in your mind of them taking you home. 

You need to get out of this room before they realize it. 

“I’m good,” You tell him, stepping backwards towards the door, “but thank you, and dinner tomorrow is perfect,” 

Mingi says something, you think he’s agreeing, but you’re giving another excuse over your shoulder about how you need to get back to it so you can make it out of this room. 

Your heart is practically beating out of your chest as you leave the office and make it down the hall, heading for the studio room you’ve booked for the afternoon. You nearly run into Dahan and Minseok as you cut around the corner, but you apologize quickly and barely give them a second glance as you hide yourself away in one of the dance studios alone. 

With the door firmly shut you lean back against the closed door and take a deep breath. These feelings are going to work you into a frenzy if you don’t get them under control. Scent sympathy is rare, an almost perfect match between an alpha and omega that makes every part of a relationship heightened, especially once that initial sympathetic bond is fulfilled with a claim. While they were gone you came to that conclusion slowly, the steady ache in your chest so clearly informed by the lack of them, but now that they’re back and here the realization of it collides into you full-force. 

You love them, that’s true. But what’s more is how much you need them, and how much you hope they need you. You can’t let them realize it before you have the chance to say everything you need to say, and if you had stayed in that room a few minutes more they might have felt themselves. With the dinner moved to Friday you just have one more night to get through. One more night, and one more day of work. And then the chips will fall where they may. 

With a deep breath you let the hammering of your heart slow and then you focus back on the work ahead. The more you pour yourself into work the faster these 24 hours will go, so you put your head down and get to it. 

You work for a long time, probably too long, until your muscles are positively aching and any thoughts of Yunho and Mingi are drowned out by lyrics to the chorus of this song that just keeps looping in your mind as you try different patterns of footwork. Here in this bubble you don’t know who’s still at work, who’s left for the day, what time it is, or if the sun has set yet. You just know your own body and every which way that it moves to this one singular song. 

Your hair is hot around your face, sweat clinging to your brow as you finish out the latter half of the choreography that you’re confident with. It’s fast, and includes so much up and down floor work you’re pretty sure you’d be passing out if you weren’t hydrating properly. Focused on your reflection in the mirror you gather your hair up and away and into a knot and then move to find your towel and water bottle. 

The door to the studio opens behind you, and you glance back without really seeing who’s popping in, “Hey,” 

For a split second it occurs to you that it might be Yunho or Mingi and your stomach flips as you start to turn. 

“Hey, y/n,” Minseok’s voice is a bit of a surprise. 

“Oh, hey,” 

He looks like he’s just stopping by to grab something from the far desk in the corner. You’re honestly surprised that he’s still here, he had looked on his way out earlier when you bumped into him in the hall.  

“Are you heading out for the night?” You take a drink of water and catch your breath, leaning against the mirrored wall behind you. 

“Soon,” He nods, running a hand through his dark hair and snagging a sweatshirt hanging over the back of the office chair. 

“Well,” You smile, “have a good night,” 

“You too,” He says as he walks past you, but then his steps slow and you hear him sigh before he turns on his heel, “listen, can I ask you something?” 

“Sure,” 

“I hope you don’t think this is weird,” He takes a few more steps back towards you, “but I’ve actually been meaning to ask you something for a while now,” 

“Oh,” Your eyebrows raise, and suddenly you can see everything in his expression. You know this look. You know the way men get when they finally rip off the bandage and change the equilibrium of a room, the moment they decide they can’t see you as just a friend. What absolutely terrible timing he has.

“I was thinking,” He says, a little pause before the rest and you hope you’re keeping your face nice and neutral, “do you think I could take you out some time?” 

“Out?” The word leaves you. 

He smiles, “Yeah, out, like a date.” 

“I appreciate that,” You shake your head a little, trying to smile and keep things light, “but I don’t think so,” 

His lip quirks and his nose scrunches and you suppose that if you were interested you might find this part of him charming, but you’re not, so it isn’t. “Are you seeing someone?” He asks. 

“No,” You tell him honestly, “not right now.”

“So, I can’t get you to give me one chance?” He takes a step forwards, gesturing between you both and keeping his gaze hopeful. 

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” You shake your head, “we work together.” 

“Oh, it’s fine,” He assures you, brushing past the boundary you tried to set with casual indifference, “don’t worry about that.” 

“Still,” You shake your head, “but thank you for asking.” 

You’re not at all thankful for him asking, but he’s nice enough, and it feels like the polite way to keep the status quo. 

“That’s a shame,” He admits, his smile dropping almost entirely, “are you sure I can’t convince you to give me just one chance? I really do like you, y/n,” 

“I’m sure,” That should be firm enough. 

“I thought we were getting along well,” He cuts off the end of your words, “becoming friends.” 

“I thought so too,” You straighten up off the wall behind you, tossing your towel over your shoulder and setting up to walk right out of the studio room if that’s what it would take to end this interaction, “I thought we were friends,” 

You can’t help but emphasize the word friends, and you watch the moment his expression drops more, annoyance flicking through his jaw. 

“I didn’t think you had such a problem seeing people you worked with,” He says pointedly. 

“Excuse me?” 

“It’s just that,” He shrugs, nodding towards you, “I didn’t think it bothered you. Considering.”

“Listen,” You lock eyes with him, “let it go. I’m trying to be nice about this, but I can be clearer. I am not interested in going out with you.” 

“You don’t have to be rude,” 

“Goodnight, Minseok,” You’re not staying for this. 

“I’m a good guy,” He says as you start towards the door, “don’t, come on just stay a second,” 

You keep walking. 

“y/n,” He says, his voice startlingly close behind you, “stay.” 

It’s like your legs stop working, an echoing strike of nerves down your spine and you stumble slightly as his hand closes around your wrist. 

“Let go of me.” You start to turn towards him, pulling your arm back as you do, but he speaks again. 

“Stop.” His voice is so low suddenly, situated smack in the center of his chest, a tenor you’ve never heard from him before. Your legs stop working all together, suddenly feeling like lead.

“Take your hands off me.” You blink hard, your head feeling a little full suddenly. 

“I just don’t understand,” He bites, “we’ve been flirting for weeks.” 

You can’t find the words to tell him that you being nice isn't flirting, but you’re stunned into silence. You can barely even think of a time when you had a sustained conversation with him where someone else wasn’t present. How could interactions that felt so routine to you feel so significant for him? 

“And you’re just… not interested?” He scoffs, “You’re what, twenty-six? Twenty-seven? You’re going to start running out of good offers.” 

So many things about Seo Minseok fall into place with just those words. The way that just a few weeks ago he barely looked at you, barely spoke to you. Always spending his attention on the alphas in the room around you, but never you. How when that tide shifted you thought, maybe naively, that he was just shy. But he’s not shy, not in the least. He’s just another alpha in a long line of alphas who look down their noses at omegas until there’s something they want from them. 

“That’s really none of your concern,” You shake your head, “now get the fuck off me.” 

“Be quiet.” His jaw sets hard. 

So does yours. 

A thousand thoughts run through your brain like a wildfire eating up a hillside of dry bark but nothing can make it past your lips. The tone of his voice has you rooted to the spot, his instructions not suggestions but strict commands. It’s been a long time since you’ve heard an alpha use tone, but it’s certainly the first time it’s been directed at you. You’ve heard stories, the way the primal omega brain surfaces even when you don’t want it to. You thought it was a bit of an overstatement, but now on the receiving end you can’t control your response to him and fear floods you. 

“You talk a lot for an unmated omega,” He looks disappointed. 

Something shrinks inside you. 

His fingers tighten, his body suddenly closer, “But we can fix that.” 

In a breath his hands push you backwards, your back suddenly cold against the mirrored wall of the practice room. Later, much later, you’ll discover that the reason your memory of this moment is patchy is a combination of your omega’s response to alpha tone and full dissociation. You’ll remember little pieces, quick sensations here and there. The same song still looping through the stereo, the sound of his deep inhale with his face pressed against your throat, the sharp pin pricks of his teeth as he seeks out the soft juncture of your neck and shoulder. The way your mind in one heaving breath both screams in rebellion and folds open in acceptance when he successfully locates your gland. 

You suddenly can’t hear right, can’t think right. All you know is his teeth. The hot feeling of breath. He smells like burnt, bitter oranges. He’s talking again, saying something that your conscious mind can’t register, but your omega does, and you stretch your neck long to give him the access he needs. 

And then you’re under. 

You’re dropping before you consciously register your brain entering a new, hazy middle space. It feels like being at the bottom of a deep pool, the sudden, immersive quiet. You understand that someone is talking to you, or around you, but all you can hear is the echoing tenor of an alpha, the words unclear, all cocooned in the water around you. 

There’s a bang somewhere but it feels far away, and you feel pin pricks against your throat. 

Minseok’s overwhelming acrid scent and heavy pressure against you is gone, the sudden loss of his weight leaving you off balance. You think you’re falling, or maybe you’ve already fallen. The world feels tilted, something hard and cold under your back. You smell something sharp and tangy, and there’s something loud in the room but you can’t understand it. Everything is white, bright and intrusive. 

Mingi’s face swims into your vision, and you feel his hands on your cheeks. It takes you a minute to understand anything, but he looks upset, stricken and his cheeks are tinged pink with panicked anger. You want to reach up, soothe his brow and see what’s wrong, but you can’t lift your hand. Don’t move an inch. 

“Jesus,” Mingi glances to his side, “he put her in subspace,” 

Someone responds, but it’s muffled to your ears. 

Mingi’s face darkens entirely, his hands leave you, “I’ll fucking kill him,” 

He’s gone. There’s a scuffle to your side, but you can’t turn your head, you want to, you just can’t. Tears bubble in your eyes, emotion pulsing through you and your breath is tight and thready in your throat. A sharp, whining sob bubbles from your lips. 

Warm rain swims through you, and Yunho’s there, sliding right into the spot Mingi left. His eyes dart over your face and then he looks to his side, his voice firm, “Calm down or get out of here, do you understand me? You’re scaring her,” 

There’s a long beat, noises to your side again but you can’t understand it. Your stomach flips nervously, the place you’re stuck in your head throbbing a sharp spike through your brain. 

Yunho’s warm, brown eyes settle back on yours, his face calm and easy, “Can you hear me, y/n?” 

You can, but you can’t make your mouth work. Don’t move an inch. 

“Can you hear me? y/n?” He asks again, his thumb brushing your cheek, “You’re safe, he’s not going to touch you again,” 

The hard feeling of Minseok’s hands on your hips pushing you into the practice room mirror snaps inside you and you release a soft sound. 

“You can hear me,” Yunho nods, “come on, wake up,” 

“Yunho,” Mingi’s voice is close again, hard and steady, “that’s not going to work,” 

“Why?” Yunho looks up to his friend, “she can hear me, she’s okay,” 

“She’s in subspace,” Mingi pushes his friend to the side, coming into your eye line, “she’s dropped so far under it’s going to take more than that,” 

“W-what do we do?” Yunho’s voice is shaky. 

“Let me try something,” Mingi murmurs, and then his eyes lock squarely on yours. 

Yunho slips his hand into yours, holding you tightly, but you can’t squeeze him back. 

“Omega,” Mingi’s voice is firm, and it’s the clearest thing you’ve heard since sinking under the water, “Come up now.” 

Don’t move an inch.

“You need to come up now,” His fingers tighten on your cheek, “listen to me.” 

Don’t move an inch. 

“Why isn’t this working?” Yunho asks, squeezing your fingers. 

“I’m not sure,” Mingi’s voice is low, and then he shifts closer to your face, “y/n. Omega. Listen to me now,” 

All you can do is manage to make a quiet, tight noise, and even to your muddled brain you can hear the tenor of distress. 

“Come up now,” Mingi repeats, “right now. Listen to me, omega.” 

You’re being torn in two, your primal brain fighting you every step of the way. 

He swallows hard, his voice dropping low in his chest, “Don’t disobey your alpha,”

Suddenly nothing but his voice exists. 

Mingi’s expression is cold, tight and ruthless, his rich tone cuts straight to your core, “When you’re given a directive, you follow it. Now,” He locks his hands on either side of your face and his next words are a pointed and perfectly clear command, “Come. Up.”  

The room is so much louder than you thought a moment ago. There’s shouting outside and you vaguely register San’s voice amongst the mix. The music from practice is still on low. Yunho’s leg is bouncing nervously, the athletic fabric making a rhythmic swish with every bob of his knee. You can hear your blood rushing in your ears. 

“I’m sorry,” You choke out, the first feeling that floods back into your body is intense shame.

“Oh my god,” Mingi’s expression crumbles and he pulls your limp body into his arms “you’re here? You’re with us?”

“M-Mingi,” Your vision clouds with tears again and every feeling that tried to course through your body while you were in subdrop crashes into you sideways.

“Shh,” He rocks you in his arms, “we’ve got you, we’re right here, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”

A dull throb radiates through your skull and Yunho takes a sharp inhale, “She’s bleeding,”

“What?” Mingi pulls back, his hand searching your body.

“Here,” Yunho brushes the back of your hair, his fingers coming away with a small line of blood, “it’s not too bad,”

“What happened?” You reach for the cut at the back of your head, nervous tears coming up as you try to understand.

“You don’t remember?” Yunho asks.

“I’m,” You swallow hard, “it was practice? Or I was practicing? I had the room booked.”

“Yeah,” Yunho nods and squeezes your hand, “what else?”

The date. The hard set of Minseok’s jaw when you said no. His hands on your hips, his lips on your neck, the soft drag of his teeth and the flat of his tongue over your gland. Your shirt tearing when he hauled you up against the mirrors. Hands everywhere. Hands nowhere. The white ceiling. His voice, harsh and direct in your ears, the alpha tone unmistakable. Submit. Heel. Don’t move an inch. 

Your mouth is suddenly hot and watery, and your hands are shaking, “I’m… I’m going to be sick,”

“Shit,” Yunho moves fast, sliding across the floor to grab the wastebasket that sits under the desk, pushing it into your hands. 

You wretch instantly, shaking and heaving, losing the contents of your stomach into the plastic bin. 

“Okay,” Mingi soothes, gathering up your hair into one hand and holding it away from your face, “you’re okay,”

“He touched me,” Your hands won’t stop shaking, his voice flooding back, and you heave again, “the things he said,”

“Shh,” Yunho shifts closer, rubbing a hand up and down your back, “you’re safe. None of that is true,” 

“He talked to me like a dog,” You sob, “and I couldn’t move, he told me not to move and I just let him,”

“No.” Mingi’s voice is harsh and you twitch under his hands, “He used alpha tone on you, he wanted you to stop fighting and he said it in tone until you couldn’t hear anything else. You didn’t let him do anything,” 

“I’ve never,” You wretch again, a dry heave with nothing to give and it makes your eyes watery. 

“We’re right here,” Yunho murmurs, “you’re safe.”

When you’re sure your stomach will hold, you push the wastebasket away and drop back to the floor, your head throbbing, “I’ve never been in subspace,”

“You’re not there now,” Mingi soothes.

“I don’t remember,” You manage, looking down at your mussed clothes, “it’s so muddled I can’t remember,”

“What can’t you remember?” Yunho asks softly.

You’re pretty sure you’d register it if his attempt at claiming had been successful, if the word attempt should even be in consideration at all, but the end is so fuzzy you just have to know. “Did he… did we?”

“No.” Yunho’s firm, sliding in front of you so he can make you look into his eyes, “absolutely not,”

Your mouth tastes terrible, but it’s the overwhelming bitter smell of him on you that doubles it and makes you want to throw up again even though your stomach is empty. 

“All I can smell is him,” You scrub your hands under your eyes to wipe away tears, “I can’t even breathe,”

“Take her,” Mingi says, “I’m getting water,”

Yunho pulls you into his arms, sitting back against the mirrored wall for some support and cradling you to his chest, “Come here, is this okay?” 

“Make it go away,” You hold onto his shirt and sigh into his neck, “please, Yunho, please,”

“Just breathe,” He soothes you, “I have you,” 

He smooths his thumbs over the glands in your wrists, easing the initial panic inside you, and then gently draws your head back with his hand, “It’s only me,” He murmurs, “you know I’d never hurt you,” 

Yunho licks a long stripe up your neck, and instantly your body starts to release, tense muscles unlocking and your fingers falling slack. His scent washes over you, enveloping you tenderly. 

“Y-Yunho,” you shudder as he licks another long stripe, moving to suck softly on the fleshy part of your neck that narrowly avoided teeth marks.

“Yes?” He kisses your neck softly, and licks again. 

“Thank you for coming for me,” You exhale slowly.

He stills, sinking closer and resting his closed lips on your shoulder. When he breathes in you hear the catch of emotion, “I thought we were too late,”

“I’m okay,” You murmur, and it’s starting to feel true now that he’s washing away Minseok’s scent.

“God,” He sighs into your skin, “when I heard you scream… I’ve never heard anything that terrifying in my life, I’ve never run so fast,”

“Did I scream?” You don’t remember it.

“Bloody murder,” He nods, pulling back to look at your eyes.

“Yunho,” Your eyes flick up towards the open door of the practice studio, “where is he?”

His hands tighten on you, “Probably nursing his broken ribs. The guys have him,”

Your eyes widen, and the realization that he’s still under the same roof has you trembling in his arms, “He’s still here,”

“Not for long,” He murmurs, “we called the police,”

“But,” Your mind is spinning and you feel the weight of him on your chest once more, “what if he comes back?”

“y/n,” Yunho draws your eyes away from the door, “San and Seonghwa have him, and he’s in rough shape. He’s probably focused on trying to breathe, not thinking about you anymore. And even if none of that were true and he did come back,” he says, “I’d put him on the floor faster than you could blink. Mingi and I both would.”

Your muscles start to relax again, “Okay,”

“You are completely safe,”

Mingi reappears a few moments later, bottles of water in hand, and he smiles warmly, “Hey, you,”

“Hey,”

“Feeling a little better?” He asks, settling on the hard practice room floor and passing you an open bottle.

“I don’t know,” You murmur honestly, shifting in Yunho’s arms so that you’re resting on his lap with your back against his chest. You take a long drink of water and sigh. 

“Listen,” Mingi smooths a hand across your thigh, “the police are going to want to talk to you. They’ll be here within the hour and then we’ll go to the hospital.”

“Why?” You tense.

“Your head,” He nods.

“It’s stopped bleeding,” Yunho assures you, “but he’s right, you could have a concussion.”

“I don’t have a concussion,”

“I didn’t realize you had a medical degree,” Mingi says, a little edge to his voice.

Hot tears well in your eyes at his tone, and you shrink back into Yunho’s arms. You know rationally he didn’t mean to scare you, he’s just worried about you, but after the day you’ve had you can’t help but shrink back in fear.  

“Hey,” Yunho presses his lips to your neck, “it’s alright, Mingi didn’t mean it like that”

Mingi’s eyes blow wide, “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything,”

“I know,” You tip your head to the side to offer more of your throat to Yunho’s soothing touches, “I’m just not myself,”

“It’s okay,” Yunho says again, returning to your neck and peppering kisses across your gland, and something about this should feel intimate and awkward when you haven’t talked to them yet, but all you can feel is safe.

“Really,” Mingi reaches for you, but doesn’t touch you, “I just want you to let us help, and I’m so angry with Minseok I could kill him, but I didn’t mean to put that on you,”

“Mingi,” You take his outstretched hand, “I’m okay, you just startled me, and you’re right anyways. I’ll come to the hospital,”

He sighs in relief.

“After,” Yunho murmurs, “would you - I mean, will you please come home with us tonight?”

It’s strange how much you feel like it is home, despite only spending your heat there, months ago, so long ago now you shouldn’t still feel this preternatural pull. 

“I don’t know,” You say, even though your body is begging you to agree, to stay with them and only them. 

“I know it’s been different between us,” He murmurs, arms tightening around you, “but you know how I feel. I just don’t want you to be alone tonight, someone should be with you,” 

“Someone you feel safe with,” Mingi adds, “if that’s us,” 

“It is,” You lock your hand down on Mingi’s, “I’m sorry, this is… of course you’re safe, of course you are. I’m just,” 

“Let’s talk about this later,” Mingi smiles, shooting a look at Yunho you can’t quite make sense of, but brushing your fears to the side all the same, “for now, let’s just get you taken care of.” 

You shudder out a breath, letting the warmth and safety of their bodies sink into you. You turn into Yunho, resting your cheek on his chest and matching your breath in time to his. Your thoughts spin, bubbling over as threads of the incident come back to your mind and you press your eyes closed before the question slips out, “Why did he do it?” 

Yunho wraps his arms around you a little tighter, dropping his lips to your hair, “I don’t know,” 

Mingi clears his throat, “He’s about to hit his rut,” he says, “that’s what his excuse was. He said he’s… he kept saying how sorry he was, but,” 

Your eyes snap open, “Sorry? He’s sorry?” 

“Sorry someone interrupted him, maybe,” Mingi’s voice is hard, his eyes firm and unrelenting, “a rut doesn’t make you do that. Not like that.” 

Yunho shakes his head in agreement, “Definitely not,” 

You know that, of course you know it, but after seeing Minseok’s black eyes you’re not so sure. You had never felt completely comfortable with him, but in the past you would have chalked that up to personality differences, and in the past few weeks that had all started to change. He was the kind of guy you wouldn’t date, but you wouldn’t worry about bothering you. 

You sigh softly, “He didn’t seem like himself,” 

“Mm,” Mingi hums, non-committal. 

“A rut doesn’t make it impossible to hear the word no,” Yunho says firmly, “you don’t become some mindless animal. What he tried to do… that’s… a rut’s an easy excuse.” 

You tense up in his arms, a brief flicker of what could have been. His teeth in your neck, your mind spinning into submission. 

“Yunho,” Mingi shakes his head at his best friend, glancing down at you to indicate that it’s not something you can hear right now. 

“I’m sorry,” Yunho soothes, holding you closer if it’s at all possible. 

Your chest tightens, “Can I… I need to get up,” 

His arms relax immediately, hands shifting under your elbows to help support you while Mingi jumps up and offers you his hands to pull you up. Back on your own two feet you waver a minute, but you shake off the dizzy spell and try to get your bearings again. They're waiting on a razor’s edge, hands out and ready to intervene, but you’ve made it clear that for the moment you don’t want to be touched. 

A shout from the hall leaves you jumping, but you register Wooyoung’s voice a moment later, “Where is she?” 

“The studio,” San’s voice replies, “slow down,” 

“Is he in the back office? Give me a fucking minute alone with him,” Wooyoung’s voice is murderous and you smile at how ready your best friend sounds to do battle on your behalf, “I’ll show him what an omega can fucking do,” 

“Youngie,” San’s voice is even and warm, keeping things soft, “you need to calm down,” 

“Calm down,” He scoffs, his voice getting closer as he travels down the hall and you know he’s almost at the door. 

“I hardly think y/n needs,” San starts to say, but then they round the corner. 

Wooyoung’s eyes are wild, searching and terrified, and something inside you shatters. San’s words die on his lips when he sees you, and in a startling moment of clarity you rush forwards and into Wooyoung’s arms. 

“Shh, shh,” He wraps you up tight, one hand at the back of your head as he rocks you back and forth, “you’re safe, you’re in one piece,” 

“Woo,” Tears come fast, and you bury your face in his chest. 

“Stupid fucking alphas,” He curses into your shoulder and you can hear his breath hitched and clouded with tears of his own, “acting like they can take whatever they want,” 

You’re sure the rest of the room is bristling at that comment but you couldn’t care less. 

“You want me to break the rest of his ribs?” He kisses your head, “I’ll make it look like a fucking accident, I swear to God,” 

“Woo,” You laugh into his chest, vision blurry with unshed tears, “stop, that’s insane,” 

“I am nothing if not a little insane,” Wooyoung squeezes you, “and you and me? We protect each other, right?” 

“Always,” You grip the back of his shirt like a lifeline. 

The bond between omegas can’t be understood by a single other person in the room, maybe even in the building. You cling to each other in the middle of the studio floor, encased in this moment of shared grief. Of what you are and what that means. He shifts you in his arms so he can look at your face, cupping your tear stained cheeks. 

The sight of his own tears makes yours come faster, “What did I do?” 

His expression hardens and he shakes his head, sucking in a harsh breath, “Nothing, not a single fucking thing. Do you hear me?” 

“Woo,” You want him to let you go. You want him to tug you close again. 

He shakes your shoulders hard, and in your periphery you see Mingi take a half step forward as Wooyoung pushes back on your words, “You didn’t do anything. You’re existing, and he tried to take advantage of that. This isn’t your fault, there’s nothing you could have or should have done.” 

You open your mouth to say something but he plows forward. 

“Alphas take, alright?” He shakes you again, more gently this time, “We’re lucky. You and me, we found good ones, but alphas are programmed to take, and we’re programmed to give. He used it against you. Nothing else.”

Your breath hitches, and you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him cradle you again. 

“Shh, shh,” He rubs your back, soothing you again. 

“I hate this,” You manage, your face buried in his shoulder. 

“I know,” He eases you, “I fucking hate it too,” 

You hold each other a little longer until both of your tears start to subside. You stay steady in his grip, his fresh salt and cotton scent lulling you into safety. The buzzing of your brain starts to release, and the fear is still there under your skin but at least for now it’s low and letting you breathe. 

Nuzzling into his shoulder you sigh, “What are you doing back here anyways?” 

“San called,” He kisses your hair, “I broke several laws getting here,” 

You laugh against his collarbone where his oversized t-shirt is pulled down, no doubt from the way your hands grip whatever part of him you can. 

He rubs a warm hand up and down your back and when he speaks again it’s not to you, this time he addresses the alphas in the room. He clears his throat softly, head lifting up and away from yours, “So, who busted his nose?” 

“Uh,” Yunho makes a small sound behind you, “that would be me,” 

“Good,” Wooyoung says, “when she stops crying I’m giving you a handshake,” 

You smile against his damp skin and shake your head, “I’m not crying, I’m fine,” 

“Sure,” Wooyoung murmurs, but he doesn’t let you go, just strokes your back more until you settle further into him. 

“The police will be here soon,” San murmurs, his voice staying relaxed and steady to make sure everything stays level in the room. 

“Right,” Wooyoung sighs, “y/n, can I let you go? I don't have to if you’re not ready,” 

You nod immediately though, unwinding your arms from him and taking a ginger step back. He gives you a soft smile, and you scrub the last of the tears from your face with the sleeves of your sweatshirt. He gives you a minute to stand steady and then turns to Yunho and Mingi who both look frozen and unsure of what to do or what to say. 

“You both got him off her?” He says, matter of fact. 

“Yeah,” Mingi’s voice is tight, like he had been choking back tears of his own, and Yunho simply nods. 

“Thank you,” Wooyoung tugs Mingi into a hug and squeezes him tight before shifting to Yunho to hug him too, “seriously,” 

Once they break apart, you’re left all in a haphazard circle, and you can feel all the eyes on you. It makes you so tired, dizzy, ready to be done and just crawl under a blanket for the rest of the week. In the back of your throat you still taste bitter orange. 

“Um,” Your voice comes out a little more scratchy than you want, and you clear your throat, letting everything fade. 

“What is it?” Yunho asks gently. 

You don’t know how to ask this, how to beg them to keep holding you together so you can just get through existing in this room. You sigh, the deep exhale making you dizzy again, and step towards him, “C-can I,” 

He opens his arms immediately, letting you close the space so he doesn’t assume your needs, but as you collide with him again he responds perfectly, scooping you up into his arms and letting you wrap your legs around his waist. He supports you with ease, an arm under your thighs and another situated high on your back. 

“Better?” He murmurs, smiling a little as you bury your head in his neck. 

You nod into his neck, and then you allow yourself one tiny moment of weakness, listening to your body and what it needs for once over your anxiety. You mumble it into his neck, but he hears you when you say, “Yunho?” 

“Yeah, baby?” His voice is so soft, quiet like he’s afraid of what you might say. 

You don’t miss the way Wooyoung’s eyebrows go high at the endearment, but you ignore him and focus instead on the man holding you up, together, in one solid piece. You lift your head so he hears you clearly, “Will you please take me home?” 

He goes still and turns his head just a little, “Your apartment or,” 

“Take me home with you,” You repeat, “I want to go home,” 

This will surely just make everything more muddled and foggy between the three of you tomorrow in the cold light of day, but you don’t care. Right now you just want to be home, in whatever form that means. 

He exhales low and shaky, “Alright,” he murmurs, kissing your throat softly to help calm your trembling, “I’ve got you, let’s go home,” 

A warm wide palm rests on the center of your back, and Mingi leans in close to catch your eyes, “y/n, can you look at me a second?” 

You pull your head up from the crook of Yunho’s neck where you’ve just been taking deep steady inhales of wet earth and meet his eyes. 

“Hey,” He smiles. 

Your eyes dart between him and Wooyoung, who seems suddenly ancy. “What?” You straighten up a little more in Yunho’s arms. 

“You can go wherever you want,” He starts off, “but do you want us to take you home, or would you feel more comfortable with Wooyoung? Or… Seonghwa, if… if that would be better for how you’re feeling,” 

Yunho tenses a little, his fingers tightening where he holds you, and you can feel him physically holding himself back from saying a single word, from begging you to come with them. 

You’ve made up your mind though, and within a second you’re shaking your head, “No, I want you,” 

Yunho relaxes, his lips returning to your throat and you sigh. 

“Then you have us,” Mingi assures you. 

The sound of the elevators in the hall stop you all cold though, and San holds up his hands, “I’ll go see, it’s probably the police,” 

The idea of talking to them suddenly makes you sick, and you’re sure it shows all over your face. 

“It’s going to be fine,” Wooyoung jumps back in, “don’t worry, we’ll be there the whole time.” 

You need this to be done. You grip down on Yunho’s shoulders, “I want to go home,” 

“I know,” Mingi nods. 

“Y-Yunho,” You’re scrambling a little in his arms, sudden panic swirling in your gut, and you twist to find his eyes, “please, get me out of here, please take me home,” 

You feel it the minute he chooses you over anything else, “Okay, alright,” 

“You need to talk to the cops,” Wooyoung shakes his head, trying to reason with you. 

You’re trembling in Yunho’s arms and he shakes his head, “She needs to go,” 

Mingi senses your heightened emotions too and you feel it when he moves closer, both of them shifting to protect you, “She can do this later,” 

“I don’t know that that’s such a good idea,” Wooyoung insists. 

“I couldn’t give a fuck,” Yunho grips you tighter, “we’re taking our girl home,” 

“Your-” Wooyoung scoffs when he hears the words, “fucking alphas,” 

“Who she wants to take her home,” Mingi points out, a distinct edge to his voice. 

“Stop arguing,” You beg them, hanging onto Yunho’s shoulders, “please, please,” 

“Fuck,” Yunho relaxes, stroking your back, “I’m sorry, of course we won’t, I’m sorry,” 

Mingi brushes his hand over the back of your head and Wooyoung gives you an apologetic face, his defensiveness over you is understandable, but he also knows how you feel about these men and you watch him choose to hold his tongue. 

A knock on the door brings you all back to the present, San handling the situation with more grace than any of you combined, “The police said that they can speak with you at the hospital and make it brief.” 

You exhale heavily and nod against Yunho, “Okay, fine,” 

“Are you sure?” Mingi strokes your cheek. 

“I just want to be done,” 

“Should we stay with you?” Yunho murmurs. 

“Please,” You grip his shoulders. 

“Alright,” He sighs, “Woo, could you… I’m sorry, can you grab her things? Let’s just try to make this quick for her,” 

Wooyoung clears his throat, his eyes never leaving yours, “Yeah, I got it,” 

“Uh,” San interrupts as you all try to gather your things, “Yunho, they want to talk to you first, they’re waiting in the back office,” 

“Oh,” 

“They have some questions,” San explains quietly, “but she she doesn’t need to be there for that,” 

“Right,” Yunho nods and then presses a kiss to your hair, “can I put you down, sweetheart?” 

Your chest warms. 

“No, here,” Mingi cuts in, his hand sweeping over your back and you feel them shift you from Yunho’s arms to his, “come here,” 

He settles you against his chest and you wrap around him just the same, soaking in the warm scent of cocoa and cinnamon. You let your eyes drift shut as you rest on his shoulder, “Hey, Mingi,” 

“Hey,” He says softly. 

“Thank you,” You sigh. 

“Mhm,” He rocks you a little as he takes your bags from Wooyoung and slings them over his shoulder, the combined weight of it and you not fazing him at all, “I told you once I’ll always be here, I meant it,” 

“I believe you,” You murmur into his throat. 

You rest here, Mingi’s thumb rubbing a comforting line over the back of your neck. 

“Time to go,” Wooyoung’s voice pipes back in, “there’s a car ready, Yunho will be there in a a few minutes,” 

“Alright,” Mingi presses a soft kiss to your hair, “here we go,” 

He carries you with ease, and you sink into the steady thump of his heart under your palm that’s keeping you grounded. Over his shoulder you watch Wooyoung walking with you and you see police officers down the hall. The door to the back office swings open and Yunho is leaning against the desk as he speaks with an officer. Seonghwa sits in a chair next to him, his head in his hands, blood coating his knuckles and the sleeves of his shirt. Something pulls in your gut, begging you to go to him, but then you’re outside and all you can feel is Mingi holding you as he ferries you into the car. 

“Do you need anything?” He asks as he settles you into the passenger seat 

“I don’t know,” You tell him honestly, letting your head drop back against the seat and taking a deep breath, eyes slipping closed. 

“Don’t fall asleep,” Wooyoung jumps forward, “keep your eyes open,” 

“I’m fine,” You tell him, but you still do what he asks. 

“Just in case,” Wooyoung presses, “you shouldn’t fuck with head injuries,” 

“He’s right,” Mingi murmurs, crouching next to you just outside the car, “and I’m sure you’re fine, but let’s just be sure, okay?” 

“Okay,” 

  A noise just past the two of them makes you jump. 

“It’s just Sannie,” Wooyoung assures you. 

You nod and Mingi takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. 

“Yunho’s almost done,” San announces, but he hurries to the car and leans in to check you, “doing okay?” 

“Yeah,” 

“Can you do something for me?” He cups your cheek to bring your eyes up to his. 

“Mhm,” You nod again. 

“I need you to just focus on us for a minute,” He moves to crouch next to Mingi, and then Wooyoung steps closer too, blocking out some of your peripheral vision. 

“Why?” You fight the urge to turn around. 

Red and blue lights flash in the car mirrors and you reflexively glance up at the rear view mirror, catching sight of an ambulance, and tension fills your stomach. 

San reaches up and catches your face again, “Hey, look at me,” 

You pull your eyes away, “Are they here for him?” 

“Yes,” San nods.

“Is he badly hurt?” Your mouth feels dry. 

There’s a pause and then Wooyoung sighs, “Don’t lie to her,” 

Mingi clears his throat softly, “He’s pretty busted up,” 

“Good,” You breathe. 

San smiles, taking your other hand in his and smoothing his thumb over your knuckles. The sound of the doors catches your attention again, and you resist the urge to turn around once again. San shakes his head a little, “Just keep looking at us,” 

“He really picked the wrong person to fuck with,” Wooyoung says, his hand resting warmly on your shoulder. 

An image of Seonghwa and his bloody knuckles flashes through your mind and your breath quickens, “Is Hwa okay?” 

Mingi’s brows draw together. 

“He’s fine,” San assures you immediately. 

“I saw blood,” You can’t articulate it exactly, the image is just static in your mind. 

“It’s not his blood,” San promises, “we’re all fine, Seonghwa is fine,” 

The sound of the ambulance doors swinging shut makes you jump. 

“Shh,” Mingi squeezes your hand, “you’re safe, you’re with me,” 

Everything in your body feels tense and stretched thin, but Mingi’s hand is solid in yours and you grip down on it, letting it tether you. 

You listen as the ambulance pulls away, your muscles unclenching one by one as the sound of the vehicle fades. 

“Woo,” You manage, “can you check on Hwa for me? And text me?” 

“Yeah,” He assures you, “I got you,” 

“Take a deep breath,” Mingi instructs you, “please, for me,” 

You take a long inhale and meet his eyes and he nods as you let the breath out low and slow through your nose. 

“Again, please,” He nods. 

You breathe again, the same steady pace, “I’m tired,” 

“It’s the adrenaline wearing off,” Mingi tells you, “but as soon as a doctor says you can sleep, you can rest,” 

“Okay,” You nod. 

San’s hand disconnects from yours and he starts to stand, “Yunho’s done,” 

You twist in your seat to see him, Wooyoung stepping out of the way, and you can see Yunho jogging towards the car, “Everything okay?” 

“Mhm,” Mingi keeps himself calm for you. 

“That took forever,” He says, “I’m sorry,” 

“It didn’t,” You shake your head, “don’t be sorry,” 

“You should go,” Wooyoung interrupts, “get her looked at,” 

You find your best friend’s eyes, “You’ll text me?” 

“Of course I will,” He nods, “but right now just focus on yourself. We’re all okay,” 

You nod, and your eyes feel heavy again already. You know they’ll be trying to keep you awake in the car at this rate. 

“Let’s go,” Mingi nods, “can I have my hand back for a minute?” He smiles at you. 

“Sorry,” You drop his hand, almost embarrassed at the way you’re clinging to him. 

“Go,” San ushers Yunho towards the driver’s side, “if you need anything, we’re here,” 

Before you know it everyone’s moving and your car door is shut. Yunho slides into the driver’s seat to your left and Mingi moves into the backseat behind you. 

You meet Wooyoung’s eyes through the window and he rests a hand over his chest. He mouths a simple message - I love you, okay?

You nod and the car starts to move, but you know he knows you love him too. 

Mingi shifts forwards in his seat as Yunho starts to drive, and his long arm reaches around to find your hand again. He laces your fingers together once and this time he doesn’t let go. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Later that night, the warm, rich scent of their apartment almost takes you out at the knees when you finally cross the threshold, so overwhelmingly comforting and enveloping that you want nothing more than to bury yourself inside the feeling for days. Mingi nearly runs into your back when you stop short in the entryway and Yunho’s watching you carefully as he hangs up your jackets. 

“What?” Mingi nudges you gently. 

There’s a million things to say. Things left unsaid after your last conversation, that fight you wish you could forget. The letter. All the things you were planning on confessing Saturday. The way you want so badly to erase today and just be with them. Every ounce of their soothing physicality after Minseok brings all your emotions up tenfold. Their tenderness almost chokes you. All the things you want to say are stuck in your throat. You need to get your head on straight. You need sleep. 

“Hey,” Yunho waves a hand in front of your dazed expression, “are you alright?” 

Not really. The hospital was long and awkward, seeing a glimpse of Minseok’s name on a hospital room door even worse, and the police had so many questions that all sounded fairly judgemental. Not to mention the probing questions from the hospital staff about your cycle and if you’re close to pre-heat. As if that matters at all. You settle for something a little less dire though, “I’m fine, sorry, it’s just been a while,” 

Yunho’s ears darken to a deep shade of pink and he nods. 

“You can sleep in my room,” Mingi offers, “like before. We can stay or not stay, it’s up to you.” 

“I’d like to be alone,” You tell them, “if that’s alright,” 

“Of course,” Mingi smooths a hand down your arm, “whatever you want.” 

“Um,” You sigh heavily, “honestly I’m exhausted. I think I might just shower and sleep as long as you don’t mind,” 

Yunho shakes his head, gesturing towards the hall, “Not at all, just… call if you need anything,” 

You start back towards the bathroom, your eyes down and away from them, but Mingi calls out, “You remember where everything is?” 

There’s no way you could forget, and you call back that you’re fine. You got it. You just need to be alone, alone is good, alone feels safe. 

In the shower you scrub your skin raw, spending extra time and attention on your glands even though it makes your skin there puffy and red, pinpricks of blood at the surface of your skin and lilac bruises surrounding every edge. It doesn’t matter how comforting their scents are, nothing is taking away the deep intent of Minseok’s mouth on your neck - and the bitter, burnt citrus smell takes ages to wash away. By the time you finish, you’re about ready to collapse. 

Mingi leaves you clothes again, folded neatly on his bed and ready for you. They’re nowhere to be seen, taking your plea for time alone seriously. He’s laid out a clean pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt, both fresh from the wash. The hoodie you had stolen during your heat lies next to it, and it’s a kind gesture, but suddenly you don’t want it. You want nothing. 

You toss the hoodie to the side and start to climb into the bed, but that smells so heavily of cinnamon spice that you can’t think straight. You had just gotten used to blissfully smelling nothing after your shower, and so you strip the bed entirely, discarding all of the pillows and blankets and sheets into the farthest corner of the room. 

The mattress is bare now, but once you turn the circulating fan off you fix the issue of the cold and his scent washing over you every time you try to close your eyes. You can still sense him, sense them, somewhere in the background, but here on the stripped bed in sterilized clothes with your skin rubbed raw, you can rest. 

You drift into sleep this way, your head clear. 

It doesn’t stay that way for long. 

You’re not sure how long you’re asleep before you wake in abject terror, but it must be at least a couple of hours with the sky outside pitch dark and the apartment completely quiet around you. It’s obvious you’re the only one awake, but your brain can’t quite process it right. All you feel is shaking fear and the echo of hands pressing you into the wall, fingers in your hair yanking your head to the side, teeth grazing against your throat. 

You scramble back, only to find the edge of the bed and you collapse off of it, ending up on the wood floor with your head spinning, Mingi’s bedside table lamp crashing down after you, a harsh flash of light pulsing through the room as the bulb breaks and gives one final dying flicker. 

The pleading whine that’s caught in your throat sounds like a trapped animal to your ears, the pounding of your heart threatening to break your chest, blood rushing through your ears like a train. You can’t grasp reality, everything feels hazy and disconnected. 

The door to your right bangs open, Yunho bleary and confused, but responding to your heightened state of fear within a moment. “Mingi!” He calls over his shoulder, “Mingi, get up right now,” 

There’s a faraway faint noise from the other room. 

Yunho skids to your side, careful not to touch you as he tries to meet your eyes in the dark, “Sweetheart, it’s just a nightmare.” 

Part of you knows that you’re awake, safe and home, and not trapped in subspace with a threatening hand in your hair, but you can’t quite grip back to reality. You stutter out a reply, “I-I can’t breathe,” 

“Mingi,” Yunho calls back over his shoulder again, “right now!”

“Please,” you whimper, part of your brain still lodged in the nightmare, “I can’t breathe,” Your hands cling onto the edge of the rug.

Mingi stumbles into the room now, half asleep but forced into consciousness and he’s shaking himself, catching up quickly, “What’s going on?” 

You hear him, but your body is stuck remembering and you feel like there’s a weight on your chest, pressing you down harder, “I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe,” you stutter. 

“Sweetheart,” Yunho comes closer now, his body curling around you carefully with his face directly at your side, “it’s a nightmare, you’re safe.” His arms loop around you gently, but stay open in case you need to move.

“I can’t,” you shake your head, images swimming before you. 

“You’re not there,” he tells you, “we’re home, you’re with us, me and Mingi,” 

You wheeze, trying to regulate your breath. 

“Get a light,” Yunho pleads suddenly to the dark room, and you can hear scrambling, “she can’t see where she is, get a light on.” 

Mingi trips over the discarded lamp on the floor, and fumbles back to the lightswitch on the wall near the door, searching for it with his hands but reluctant to tear his eyes away from you. Suddenly the room floods with the overhead light, a stark fluorescent glow, and the black spots across your vision start to clear.

“I have you, I have you,” Yunho repeats, holding you to him. 

Your hand searches blindly for Mingi on the other side of you and he collapses next to you both, taking your hand and moving in to cradle you from the opposite side, “Baby,” he murmurs, “look around, look where you are,” 

Yunho’s hand on your thigh grounds you, and then Mingi softly touches your jaw to draw your gaze to him, “Look at me,” 

Your eyes flick up. He looks tired, exhausted even, his hair a wayward haystack. You blink hard, “What happened to you?” 

“To me?” Mingi’s brow furrows and he glances up past you to Yunho. 

“You need sleep,” You manage. 

Mingi laughs sharply and cups your cheeks, “I’ll sleep later. Can you tell me where you are?” 

“Your place,” You manage, and you feel the nightmare receding back into your mind inch by precious inch, your breath steadying out. 

“Yeah,” He sighs, “Yeah, that’s right,” 

“I’m home with you,” You repeat, your fingers sinking into the plush rug beneath you. 

Yunho swallows hard, fixated on the way you’ve called their apartment home, not their home, for the third time tonight. You watch the flicker of recognition in his eyes, but he lets it pass and so do you. 

Tears well up in your eyes again and you sigh, “I’m sorry about your lamp,” 

“What?” Mingi’s brow furrows, “Who cares about that?” 

“Still,” You manage, “I’m such a mess right now,” 

“If you weren’t a mess I’d be more worried,” Yunho takes your hand in his, squeezing your fingers, “and you can take all the time you need to be a mess, we’re here.” 

You slump forwards onto his shoulder, “I’m… so tired,” 

“Let’s get you back to bed,” Yunho soothes, his voice soft. 

You nod, letting them both ease you up to your feet, but when they turn to the bed Mingi makes a soft, confused noise, “Where?” 

“Oh,” You gesture towards the corner where all his bedding is wrapped up in a ball, “I’m sorry I was just… it was too much,” 

Mingi’s jaw tightens, the muscles in his neck jumping as he swallows hard, and you know he’s holding down so much anger, that someone could have scared you enough that any alpha’s scent became overwhelming, that your fear might extend even to them. 

“Okay,” Yunho cuts in easily, “whatever you want,” 

He eases you back onto the mattress, but the idea that they might be gone again strikes a deep lance of panic through your stomach and you grasp his arm, “Don’t go,” 

“Are you sure?” He murmurs. 

“Please,” You insist, tugging his arm again. 

He eases down beside you, and Mingi crosses to the opposite side of the bed so he can follow suit, sidling up to your back but careful not to touch you until you make it clear that you want him to. You fold your arm underneath your head and rest yourself down, and when your hair shifts off your neck you hear Yunho’s sharp intake of breath at the sight of your tender gland. 

“Baby, what,” He reaches for you, fingertips hovering, “sweetheart, what did you do?” 

“I’m fine,” You murmur but when you feel fingers gently coast over the raw skin you hiss sharply in pain and both their hands pull back. 

“y/n,” Mingi’s voice is low, shaky, and he scoops up your arm to check your wrists, finding them as swollen and bruised, “oh my god,” 

“I know,” You murmur, letting your eyes drift shut. 

“This is not okay,” Mingi sounds pained, “you can’t hurt yourself like this,” 

“I’m okay, I promise,” 

“We could have helped,” Yunho insists, “we could have scented you again, both of us, or called Seonghwa, or something, anything,” 

“Seonghwa?” You start, but Mingi cuts you off as he pushes your hair further to the side to see more of your neck. 

He makes a tight noise with his tongue against his teeth, “These look tender, Yunho’s right,” 

“You scented me plenty,” You shake your head, letting your hair fall back into place, “but I promise, I’m okay,” 

Mingi wraps his arms around you from behind, tucking you close to his chest and dropping his head onto yours, “You’re scaring me,” he confesses into your hair. 

“I know,” You murmur, “but I wasn’t trying to hurt myself,” 

“And now?” Yunho asks softly. 

“I’m a little better,” You pull him closer, “I was overwhelmed earlier and… even you both I didn’t want, but now? I feel safer, clearer,” 

Yunho kisses your forehead, letting his lips linger as you all get your emotions back in check, “Okay,”  

“Can we stay just like this?” You nuzzle into him, pulling Mingi in closer behind you until you’re snuggled up so tight you might overheat . 

“I’ll be wherever you want,” Mingi wraps his hand around yours and tucks them into your chest.

Yunho murmurs his agreement softly and you nod, letting their heat soak into your body and releasing your tense muscles bit by bit. You were supposed to tell them how you felt already, you need to get it out in the open before things get too blurry again, but right now you have to let it go. 

Silence stretches between the three of you, their breathing even and low, and you’re not sure if they’re asleep or awake when you make your quiet plea in the dark but in a whisper you beg them to never, ever let you go again. At least for tonight, they hold you fast.

[saerotonins]

tied red strings of fate

ft. gojo satoru x gn!reader

request: omg .. tadhana by udd + satoru please ? 

content warnings: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, jjk manga spoilers [ch 236], canon divergent, implied that reader knows about curses but is not a sorcerer, lowkey a character analysis but yeah, happy ending

wc: 1283

note: when i saw this request i was so happy because tadhana* is literally one of my fave opm classics! also, im sorry nonnie if this was long overdue, figured i'd give him some fluff at his death "anniversary" heh (albeit a little late). i miss our glorious king sm :(( happy holidays 🎀

song: tadhana-up dharma down

*tadhana=destiny

gojo satoru is a force to be reckoned with. his name rings a bell and brings shivers to the spine of any potential enemies he has. 

he's gojo satoru, the strongest of all, the holy grail of jujutsu sorcery. he's gojo satoru, whose power literally repels and divides everyone else and him.

but to you, he's a lover, a man of his own, an independent being who is capable of emotions. he's satoru. the love of your life.

so when he decided to call it quits, to say you were devastated is an understatement. you were left broken, calling out his name at night hoping he would appear in front of you just one, for closure. him closing the chapter of your book got you weeping and yearning for more of him. 

because even though he's your lover, even you have a hard time of catching a glimpse of who he really is. satoru is an open book, but he's hard to understand. you did all your best to ease him and make him open up, show more of himself to you, bare his truth, the good, the bad, and the ugly, all of them you're willing to accept.

alas, the universe has other plans, the challenge ended even before it began, he is most definitely an enigma, someone that you will probably never get to solve. satoru's backed turned against you was a sight you are never going to forget. you spent months moving on and try to live a life where he isn't yours. it's hard but you try to manage anyway.

so when a knock on your door was heard by the 31st of december, you didn't expect gojo satoru in his full glory standing before you. as shocked as you are, you see his eyes had sunken. he's beyond exhausted but when he sees you, his eyes lighten up and you feel the warmth of his arms and your feet off the floor. you miss this, you miss him, it was all so familiar and something you very much miss. every fiber of your being remembered the way he touched you, triggered by the way his hands gripped onto your waist for dear life. as confused as you are, you reciprocated his gesture, opting to rest your hand on his shoulder blades.

"satoru?" you managed to voice our before you feel him put you down but his embrace remain. he then rests his head on the crook of your neck, then you hear him sniffle. suddenly you feel something drop onto your skin. his tears slowly roll from his face to your neck and shoulders.

satoru's lips wobbles as he tries to contain himself but to know avail, he lets his cries out, deciding to bare himself to you and be vulnerable. he was so so so tired of fighting. as great as the title 'the strongest' sounds, it gets too lonely even for him. being on the top is lonely. and he knows it himself.

he'd rather fall from grace than live a life where he isn't yours. he was too late to realize it. he was so stupid, too cocky, too condescending that it took him facing death before realizing that he wants to live, just for you. so when he finally defeats the evils of the jujutsu world, his first thought is you. the only one who provided light in his dark and desolate world.

as charming and bright satoru is, he is often left in the shadows in the cave but when he came to know you, he was absolutely in love and smitten. you were like a fresh breath of air to him. but when he decides that creeping into your mundane and simple life would rather be selfish of him. someone cursed like him shouldn't be able to be with someone who is blessed and down to earth like you. 

but being selfish be damned, he had faced battles, including one that almost left him biting the dust. he wants you, he needs you in his life and letting you go was definitely a mistake, something that he will never do ever again.

when his cries had calmed down, you finally get his voice again after a long time. "i'm so sorry," satoru started. "i was an idiot, i love you so much and i never stopped loving you. i was so stupid to let you go, i have never loved someone as much as i did with you." satoru knows his worth is probably lesser than any other being the moment he let you go, the only pillar who provided stability and balance in his life. he was impulsive, too proud, and too strong. but the way you held him every time you caged him into your arms is like he was fragile, someone to be protected, someone to cherish.

satoru loved that. and he was stupid to think that was worth letting go.

knowing you has made him scared of death, an entity or event that could break the two of you apart and live in separate worlds, and he couldn't bare to face it. he loves you too much to let himself go and so he fought with you in mind and thank any deity that exists, he finally won.

gojo satoru is the strongest.

so seeing him crumble right before your very eyes as his knees meet the concrete is a shock. he had bowed before you first before he had bowed to any higher up. hell, satoru bowing before anyone else would come as a shock. he held onto your ankle for support, his voice begging to take him back as he spews even more apologies that he can manage.

"please, please, i'm so sorry darling, i'll do what it takes for you to take me back. i love you so much, no other human had made me feel this way, please i'm so sorry. i miss you so much, god, i can't even remember a life before you, please." satoru had begged, begged, and begged, his voice getting louder and louder and each increased volume of his voice his hurt is more evident.

with the way his voice cracked broke your heart, and that's when you knew he meant every single letter, every syllable, every drop of tear, and every breath of his apology. 

you had completely broken the strongest. but satoru doesn't mind. even if you break him a thousand times, he'd painstakingly pick up every single piece of himself to present it to you. and that's what he's doing right now.

"i forgive you 'toru," he barely hears you say through his wails and it slowly comes to a halt. he then lost the feel of your ankles as he sees you kneel yourself to his level. your hands reached to touch his face and there you see his eyes, glassed with tears, love, and regret. satoru feels the heat of your hands on his cheeks and his instincts leaned into it. "i was hurt, but i'm never mad, i just wished you'd tell me why," his heart broke when he heard your voice crack.

"but you're hear now, right? we can fix this, we can fix us." you say as you carefully wipe the tears on his face. satoru nodded as he holds your wrists and caress his thumb on it. "yeah, we'll fix us."

"together?"

"together," satoru said in confidence. 

and with a light heart, satoru leans in to catch your lips on his, sealing his silent promise to never hurt you ever again, or he will never get to forgive himself.

he's gojo satoru.

he'll always find a way back into your arms.

another note: i'm quite unsure with the ending but this is all that i got 😔 i hope this was on par with your expectations nonnie hehe 🫶🏻

[topazy]

Inside, outside

Pairing: 10k x reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood, vomit

Chapter: 5.07

The awkwardness while you, 10k, Warren, and Addy walk in almost complete silence is almost nauseating. You feel a migraine coming on from so many unspoken thoughts running through your mind. It was only the four of you now searching for the person behind the disgusting, foul, brainy biscuits.

10k keeps giving you knowing glances; he is wordlessly asking you to say something since the bad vibes are coming from you and Addy. You sigh, “Anyone else feel uneasy about not knowing where the hell Murphy is?”

“Yeah, I do,” 10k snorts. “It’s like the good old days. He disappears, then reappears to stab us in the back.”

“What’s the deal with you two?” Addy asks. “I know Murphy's an ass, but I’m surprised things are so bad.”

The bite still hurts.

If Addy had stuck around longer last time, she would have seen how badly 10k was affected by what Murphy put him through. But you bite your tongue and don’t say anything.

10k looks uncomfortable with you and Addy on either side of him. Addy didn’t exactly congratulate you when she found out about the baby; she seemed in shock and hasn’t mentioned it since. A few moments pass, then 10k suddenly laughs, “The first time we saw him in years, your sister punched him in the face within two seconds of talking to him.”

“He still doesn’t think he did anything wrong!” You point out.

“Biting people, manipulating them… trying to take over the world—just a normal day in the life of Alvin Murphy,” Addy says jokingly.

When the step road you’re walking down reaches the edge of a town called Heartland Warren stops walking. “These fields need to be harvested; they’re going to seed.”

“A friend of mine helped me move a few talkers from here to limbo, but… I don’t know how many lives humans are left to work the fields.”

At some point you’d need to find out how your sister met all these people and lost her eye.

“Well, it seems like the perfect time to find out.”

—

Heartland was like every other town you ever came across, abandoned. “What’s the plan, Warren?”

“We make contact with the locals and see what we find out about what’s in these bizkits.”

“And then what? What’s our end game here?”

“Help George with this idea of hers. A new country.”

“I don’t think we’re the nation-building types. You know? More like the tear-shit-up types.”

While Addy and Warren talk, 10k looks over at you and mouths, ‘I told you so.’ He was convinced Warren had romantic feelings for George, which you failed to see. But you also thought Red had a crush on 10k… he was probably right.

“Bodies up ahead. At least two of them,” 10k says before running over to a body lying in the middle of the road. “It looks like he was given mercy.”

The four of you split up to search on either side of the road to look for more bodies. Both humans and talkers had been shot in the heads execution style. According to Addy, they were all farm workers, which meant someone had targeted them deliberately to stop more biscuits from being made.

“Do you guys hear that?” 10k asks.

You shake your head.

“Something's not right.” He walks over to you and stands in front of you protectively. ��I can definitely hear something.”

A few seconds pass before all of you can hear the faint whispers of talkers asking to be fed. It made you nervous that you could hear them despite no talkers being viable. You whisper, “Anyone else getting the feeling they are trapped in a horror film?”

You were half expecting a talker to pop up from the ground, grab hold of your leg, and try to pull you back down the hole with them.

Warren gets your attention and points towards a car park full of old, run-down cars. With each step you took, the voices got louder, and the feeling of being watched caused goosebumps to spread across your arms.

You see… something or someone pops up from behind the back of a truck. “10k, heads up.”

He turns and aims his gun in their direction, but before he pulls the trigger, Addy stops him. “Wait, that’s a talker.”

“He looks pretty bad.”

“She’s right; if he’s stalking, he might know something,” Warren adds. She puts her gun away. “Follow my lead.”

You hated it when she said that; usually it meant something bad was about to happen. Gulping down, you follow suit and hold your hands up to show you weren’t holding onto any weapons. More talkers come out of hiding and surround you.

“We come in peace!” Warren calls out. “We hear that you’re hungry! But we don’t have any bizkits.”

“But we can help,” you say, hoping they don’t try and eat you instead.

The talkers easily outnumbered the four of you, and soon the four of you were standing back to back, with the undead walking around you in circles, like a shark swimming around its prey before attacking. Skittish, 10k asks, “What happens when talkers stop talking?”

The talkers start to snarl the same way Z’s do, and when they get closer, a female talker reaches its hand out towards your stomach, but you lightly slap their hand back. Cautiously you pull the blade from your belt and grip hold of it tightly. Your voice shakes, “Back it up, back it up.”

“Don’t hurt them!”

Addy’s comment riles you up. You didn’t want to hurt any of them, but you couldn’t take it on good faith that they wouldn’t attack first. She should know by now you’d only use a weapon in self-defense.

“As long as nobody tries to touch my stomach again, I won’t!”

“Ok, look. There’s a farmhouse in the distance,” Warren says. “Let’s make this non-lethal. On three. One, two…”

“Someone’s coming!”

A car speeds forward and stops close enough that all the dry dirt on the ground is blown into the air when the car comes to an abrupt halt. To your relief, it was a familiar face.

“Doc!”

He waves at you from behind the wheel. George leaps out from the passenger side. “Get in!”

Since the car only has five seats, you get in last and sit on 10k’s lap with your legs outstretched across George and Addy’s. “Good timing, guys,” you pant. “That was too fucking close.”

10k leans his forehead against your shoulder, and the flat of his palm rests over your stomach. Quietly he asks, “Where are we going to next?”

“There’s a farm not far up ahead,” Addy says and points in the direction Doc needs to drive.

“Good, 'cause that’s about all the gas we got left.”

—

The rest of the drive is in silence, but you feel George’s eyes on you, or more specifically on the way 10k keeps caressing your nonexistent bump. She had probably guessed what was going on but was being too polite to ask.

George catches you staring at her staring at you and smiles. “So you guys are married; that’s pretty cool. Doc said you guys meet on the road?”

“No, not really,” 10k mumbles, his forehead still pressed against your shoulder. He had fallen asleep during the short distance and sounded as if he hadn’t fully woken up yet. “We got married under a black rainbow.”

“A black rainbow?” Addy asks, her voice full of skepticism.

“Doc, Warren? Black rainbow?”

“Ohh yeah,” Doc says fondly. “I married the kids after Warren, the aircraft Warren was on, exploded with her in it. Murphy got sunburnt, and we thought the dead was gonna eat us. All in all, not a bad day.”

You chuckle while twisting the silver band on your finger; Addy looks extremely confused to the point it’s verging on frustration. George chuckles, “That information did nothing but give me more questions. When this is all over, we’ll need to have a drink one night so you can tell me how you all met.”

10k tilts his head to the side to face George and points between you and Addy, “Their sisters, like, share a mom and dad.”

“We should definitely have a very large and strong drink,” you say, ignoring how shocked George looks and how drunk 10k sounds. “But in at least six or seven months time.”

The more you think about it, the harder it becomes to remember your last period, so it was really just a guessing game to figure out how many months it would be until a drop of alcohol touched your lips again, not that drinking was something you did often; however, not being able to drink made you want it more.

Addy taps on the window and points towards a farmhouse, “just up ahead.”

When Doc drives up to the house, you gently nudge 10k and feel how warm he is. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, just tired.”

When everyone is out of the car, Addy leads the way into the house, trying to be as discreet as possible. Once inside, 10k puts an ugly floral chair in front of the door.

You go over to the window with Warren, and she opens the curtains enough that you can see. “There are talkers in the field; they look hungry.”

“What are they eating then?”

“I know, I know.”

You both jump when a strange-looking man appears in front of you. He takes his hat off, showing everyone that part of his brain is missing. The smell and sight of the inside of your head are too much for you; turning to the side, you vomit all over the floor.

—

You sit on the opposite side of the living room while Charlie, who’s feeding his own brain to the talkers, speaks with the rest of the group. Just the thought alone was enough to make you want to hurl again.

“You feeling any better?” George asks, rubbing at your back.

“Yeah, thanks, just the smell is pretty strong in here.” Seeing the sadness in her eyes, you sigh, “I’m really sorry about Dante.”

“I just can’t help but feel like it’s my fault.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is thought he put his trust in me and what I believe in, and that’s what got him killed.”

“What?” Addy suddenly appears on the opposite side of the couch. “You got Dante killed?”

“Easy, Addy, we don’t know what happened.”

George becomes so emotional that she can’t explain what happened, so Doc steps in and answers for her. “Vigilantes got him. Killed the captain and his guard too. Probably the same bastards that killed the others.”

Warren goes over and hugs George while she sobs. “They chopped him up into pieces and put him in a trash can. I had to mercy him. Who would do something like that?”

“Humans,” Addy hisses.

You feel sorry for your sister finding out her friend had died in such an awful way, but this couldn’t be the only thing bothering her. She was on edge more than normal.

“Maybe not, maybe talkers,” Doc says quietly. “They left a sign saying this is what happens to traitors.”

“NewAmerica would be a much better place if you just got rid of all the people.”

“Enough,” you snap. “The world has been full of sick fucks who kill each other for years. This isn’t George’s fault.”

Addy shakes her head and goes to storm off. “I’m going to check the rest of the house.”

—

“So what was that about?” 10k asks as soon as you step into the kitchen.

“George was crying, and Addy was just making her feel worse.”

10k pulls a face; whatever he was thinking, he most definitely wasn’t sharing it. You get a whiff of something that is off and scrunch your nose up while glancing around the room; you didn’t want to be rude, but you smelled the same thing earlier in the car.

“How’s your wound?”

“It’s… healing.”

“Let me see.”

Reluctantly, 10k starts to remove the bandages covering his stump. You felt bad knowing how much he hated looking at it, but it had been days since it was cleaned properly. His stump is covered in dried blood, and what you suspect is a sticky substance caused by an infection.

“Oh Jesus, kid, that looks bad,” Doc says when he walks over to join you.

You turn on the kitchen tap, but nothing but dirty water comes out. “Oh boy, we really need to find something to clean that with. We need to find a first aid kit and antibiotics.”

Doc says something to himself, then disappears.

You start searching the kitchen drawers and cupboards for anything useful that could help, but unfortunately you find nothing.

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” Doc runs back into the room. “Hold his arm over the sink.”

You do as he says and hold 10k’s arm over the sink while Doc pours a clear liquid out of a jar and over the stop, causing 10k to wiggle in pain. His face turns bright red as he tries to not make too much noise.

“What is that? Water?”

“Hooch.”

10k grabs the jar and drinks the remaining hooch in one large gulp. His eyes gloss over. “I feel great.”

He definitely didn’t look it. Suddenly he lunges forward and starts to vomit; at least he made it to the sink, unlike you.

Hearing the commotion, Warren comes over. “Everything okay?”

“Just a little alcohol poisoning,” Doc says casually.

You press your hand to his forehead as he starts to sway on his feet. “Tommy's starting to burn up. Quick, help me get him into a chair.”

It takes the three of you to get 10k into a chair without him falling. George puts a bin in front of him just as he starts to vomit again. “We really need to get fresh—“

“I need help!” Addy bursts through the door while helping a man you’ve never seen before walk. “This is my friend Finn; he’s been shot.”

“I’m fine, really.”

Doc gives you a light tap on the back. “Guess we are back in business, partner.”

—

“Thank you,” Addy says. “I mean it; Finn means a lot to me.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Since Doc was buzzed from drinking hooch straight and kept getting distracted easily, you managed to stitch the wound on Finn’s side up. Thankfully they did have a first aid kit. Afterwards Finn explained someone shot him and then stole all the ingredients they had for making bizkits.

“Sis, I—“

“Why are you being so hostile towards George?”

Before Addy can answer your question, 10k and Doc step out of the farmhouse dressed as cowboys. You start to laugh; they had only been left alone for ten minutes, and how someone managed to ransack the wardrobes.

“Everybody,” Warren clicks her fingers and whispers. “Look alive, we’ve got company.”

Charlie comes out of the house and stands on the porch and starts to ring a bell to distract the talkers closing in on you. Addy grabs your hand. “Get in the car with me and don’t come out until it’s all clear.”

You sit in the front seat while Addy and Finn sit in the back. After a few moments of silence, Finn leans forward to shake your hand. “I’m really glad to meet you.”

“We’ve met… inside, I stitched you up.”

“Oh yeah, I know,” he laughs goofily. “Addy talks about you all the time, and it’s nice to finally put a face to the girl I’ve heard so much about.”

You smile politely, “It’s nice to meet you too, Finn.”

—

You sit in the car while Finn and Addy start tying up talkers to feed them Charlie’s brain and start to worry when you lose sight of 10k and Doc.

The car door opens, and Addy bites at her lip; she was thinking hard about what to say next. “I don’t agree with the things George has done. It’s done nothing but get people, including Dante, killed.”

You knew how George felt; you blamed yourself for years after what happened with Cassandra. “She already feels guilty enough without you adding to it. Regardless of NewAmerica some asshole would still be trying to stop bizkits from being made and killing talkers.”

“Why do you keep defending her?”

Addy steps aside so you can get out of the car. “Because we’ve all done shit we aren’t proud of, including hurting someone we care about.”

You notice Warren talking with George and Finn by the farmhouse. When you start to walk towards them, Addy clears her throat. “I think you’re being reckless.”

“What?”

“Bringing a baby into this world…”

You spin on your heels so fast it makes you feel dizzy. “Don’t go there, Addy—actually, you know what? Do go there. Tell me your expert opinion on being a parent when you’ve never been one yourself.”

Hearing your voice getting louder, everyone turns to stare, even some of the talkers.

“I think you and 10k will be great parents, but it is careless. War is on the horizon; people are being picked off one by one, and truthfully I think it’s a massive mistake to have…” She trails off, realizing what she’s just said.

Tears of anger start to form. “Fuck you.”

—

You bury your face into the side of 10k’s neck as Finn mercy kills Charlie, who had fed most of his brain to the talkers to keep them from turning into Z’s. His sacrifice was incredibly brave; you just hoped it wasn’t in vain.

“Addy looks pretty upset.”

He was right; she was crazy, but in that moment you didn’t care. What she said about the baby really hurt. Addy had been absent for so long that she didn’t have a right to comment on it. When you lived in isolation, 10k spent nearly a year trying to get you pregnant and was gutted each time it didn’t work. Things may be bad now, but they weren’t then, and you weren’t going to let her sour something so positive for the both of you.

10k brushes stray hair out of your face, “You look lost in thought. What are you thinking about?”

“Do you think Red was able to hear us doing it when we lived in the tree?”

—

“I still feel as if my hand hurts even though it’s not there.”

You, Doc, and 10k walk behind Addy, Warren, and George. The six of you were walking through grassy fields to reach the water dam to find out why the water supplies had been stopped.

“Oh, there’s a name for that. Phantom limb syndrome. It’s when the brain still thinks the hand is there, so it keeps sending these pain signals. But eventually it works itself out.”

“I don’t think my brain is ever going to get used to this.” 10k sways on his feet again.

“Oh my god.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not; you’re burning up again.”

Doc catches him before he falls. “The kid needs antibiotics. Was there any back at the farmhouse?”

“No, I think we used the last of it up a while ago.”

“What about holistic medicine? You know stuff about that, right, Doc?”

In unison, Doc and 10k say, “We were nowhere near the Grand Canyon.”

Suddenly there’s a loud noise coming from the direction of the farmhouse. “A distress signal; it’s Finn!”

Addy starts running back towards the farm with George right behind her. Warren calls out, “You two get 10k to cover; we’ll be right back.”

“We should get down.”

The three of you crouch down and slowly start to move off the main path and into the field. The grass was long enough that anybody walking by wouldn’t be able to see you. “Which way now?”

“Um,” Doc looks around for a moment. “This way.”

You follow him until you reach a small empty drainage pipe. The area has a lot of bricks and dried concrete scattered across it, so you assume it was a construction site at one point.

“I hope Finn is okay.”

You sit down next to 10k. He winces in pain when he pulls the cover off his wound again; his stump looks worse than before and is turning black.

“If the guys aren’t back soon, I think we should go to this water place without them. They will know to find us there.”

“Yeah, they will,” Doc says in agreement. “Plus we really need to get that stump cleaned with fresh water to get a good look at it.”

“It really hurts.”

It was unlike 10k to complain, so the fact that he was made you more worried than normal. You hand him a bottle of water. “You need to drink more.”

While he takes small sips of water, Doc groans out in pain and falls to his knees. It takes you a few seconds to register why he’s fallen and notice the arrow that’s landed in his shoulder.

“Oh shit.”

[bobaandasiandramas]

Find Rest for Your Soul

Y/n is found unconscious by Hoseok and rescue owner, Sejin. Y/n is a mysterious Omega with no real memories and is trying to understand the warnings in her head. What or who is after her?

Alpha, Beta, Omega x F. Reader

Pairing: OT7 X F.Reader

Rating: M+

Trigger warning : none

Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Hoseok found her in the living room. It was early in the morning when the sun was still rising, a small sliver of it was peeking through the curtains. The omega was sitting on the floor with her back against the front of the couch, staring out at the coffee table. He approached her slowly, not wanting to startle her with any sudden noises, but the floor creaked quietly under his feet. The sound must have reached her ears because her head tilted as if trying to listen more closely. “Good morning.” He whispered the greeting.

The omega didn’t respond verbally but she turned to look at him with unfocused eyes. It looked like she was looking at something in front of him, or maybe through him - perhaps it was words of the books that she loved so much just floating around. Her breathing remained steady as if there was no change in her current state of mind.

“Are you okay?” He asked, unsure if she would snap back to him - to reality. He moved closer, still slow as he remembered that she did not always come back in the best state of mind, sometimes thrashing about. As he watched for any micro movements from her, he moved inch by inch until he was at arms length from her. “Would it be okay to sit with you?” He questioned but received no answer, not that he was expecting one. She was definitely too far gone in her head, and so he used the quiet moments to observe her.

The difference in her appearance from when he first saw her was astounding. The bruises that once decorated her small wrists had faded away. Namjoon had decided to remove the bracelet and kept it hidden for now until they could figure out if it was a tracking device or just a health monitor. Though he was sure if it was a tracker someone would have shown up by now. Her skin looked healthier, soft to the touch, and clean. Jimin had really helped with her hair, getting rid of all the knots and maintaining it well, even after the stitches were removed. He finally focused on her face. Her face was less sunken since putting on a little bit of much needed weight. The dark rings around her eyes were still there but significantly less. There was a sort of beauty that she carried even in her current health, he wondered just how lovely she would look once she was fully recovered.

Hoseok knew she had a hard time sleeping most nights, he could hear her pacing her room. He often wanted to go in and check on her, offer her some company but he also didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. The alpha knew that Yoongi wasn’t the biggest fan of the omega, but it was clear to see the quiet alpha was trying. The pack appreciated it and in return everyone has a certain time limit with the omega. Most of the time she was with Namjoon or Jimin and then it was decided the Jungkook was the omega that would spend the most time with her and help her adjust back into a pack setting.

Hoseok knew she wasn’t part of their pack, but she felt right with them. He felt like she was meant to be with them. He was a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. He just didn’t know what the reason was.

“I remember the darkness, it was always dark, except when they came in. The light would trickle through the door - a tease to something we couldn’t have. It wasn’t real, the light - it wasn’t the sun. I preferred the darkness because every time I saw that light I knew something terrible would happen.” Her voice was just below a whisper, more like she was talking to herself instead of him.

For a moment he thought she was quoting a book, but it wasn’t the same. She always had a certain look upon her face when she quoted, but this was different. He leaned a little closer, interested in the words that she was providing.

“What terrible things happened?” It was a risk to ask such a question knowing that every time someone tried to ask her about her memories, she would spiral into the nonsense of her mind. At first she didn’t say anything, instead her fingers twitched right before she slid her hand from her lap to her knees. Hoseok watched as she tried to clear the fog in her mind, her eyes would focus and unfocus at her fingers. He was patient and willing to wait, maybe she wouldn’t say anything else or maybe she would.

“It was crowded at times, others not so much. There was no real organization among us, just lumped together like sheep.” Her scent started to turn sour and thick, the mood felt heavy like a rain cloud, dark and filled with despair.

The tears welled on her lash line and spilled over quickly. The alpha in him reacted before his mind could, he reached out and wiped the tears away, guiding her to look at him. “Oh, little omega, I wish I could help you more.” He whispered to her as she looked through him as he let his hand drop.

“Protect the littles. That’s the best we can do. That’s what they always say. I’m scared. I’m so scared. I can only protect them for so long.”

The alpha in him cringed at her sadness and won over his mind wanting to make it better. He reached out for her, pulling her toward him into a hug. Her body shifted willingly with him, settling on his lap, knees of each side of his hips and he wrapped his arms around her center. He tucked his face into her shoulder, rubbing his nose gently against her shirt. He poured his calming scent around them, hoping it would ease some of her pain.

She hugged him back, her arms holding his head gently to her body, her fingers carding through his soft locks of hair. Her bottom lip quivered as her chest began to ache. Her whole body started to tremble as she tried to hold back the sobs that wanted to escape her throat. She suddenly wasn’t close enough, she hugged him tighter as the first sob cracked out. “I’m sorry!” She cried loudly. “We couldn’t protect you Alpha!”

Hoseok stiffened in her embrace, the sorrow that poured from her was breaking his heart and he gripped her tighter. It was suffocating, a sadness he hadn’t felt in such a long time. He could feel it absorbing into his skin, twisting his own emotions to match hers. It was too much but he couldn’t bear to know she carried this all alone.

“I tried. I promise, I tried. I’m so sorry. Please, please…” The pleas that fell from her mouth were desperate and aching.

The sound of her cries had alerted the others in the house. The pounding of several pairs of feet coming down the stairs could be heard. Namjoon and Yoongi were the first to arrive, each sliding on their feet in the arched doorway. Hoseok could sense the other two alphas standing there and peeked over her shoulder at them. He shook his head, letting them know to not approach them.

Her cries and whimpers carried on as she begged for a forgiveness to something that Hoseok only expected was the start of her losing her mind. “I’m sorry Alpha, please forgive me.” Her voice was losing its volume as she crumbled into him, her face ducked into his neck as she sobbed heavily, her tears dripping onto his skin.

“Shh, it’s okay. We have you now, you hear me?” He asked gently as he rubbed her back slowly.

“Hey, can you hear me?”

The words ran in circles around her head, her cries stopping immediately but her body jumped with small hiccups of sadness. This wasn’t her alpha, her alpha was gone. Gone, gone, gone. She let go of the body she was holding and sat back to look at the face that belonged to it. Her eyes focused slowly as she watched him study her.

Hoseok called her name gently as he cupped her face in his hands, wiping the tears that stained her cheeks. “Are you back with me?” His eyes flickered back and forth between her eyes, searching for her in the depths of her irises.

She reached her hand up to place over one of his. “I’m back, I’m sorry.”

“Nonsense, don’t be sorry. I’m here for you,” He looked past her shoulder which caused her to look back as well. The entire pack was there watching them. “we are all here for you.”

*******

It was hard to get her to eat breakfast that morning. Her eyes would cloud over and get lost in her thoughts. Jimin stayed with her at the table while holding her hand and trying to

encourage her to eat, pressing small pieces of fruit to her lips, praising her gently each time she did take a piece into her mouth.

Everyone else tried to go about their business while Namjoon and Hoseok spoke about what had happened. Yoongi had pushed the others out of the room, pressing a kiss to Taehyung’s lips and the omega pouted.

Namjoon and Hoseok decided that since new memories seemed to have arrived and gone mostly well with Hoseok near her that he would spend most of the day with her, much to Jimin’s disappointment. They also figured that maybe it would be best to not try and snap her back to reality, unless things got bad.

Nothing had seemed to come to her mind since that morning, at least nothing that she voiced to Hoseok. Instead she just reached out her hand to hold his, especially as her mind started to wander, as if she needed him to anchor her so she wouldn’t float too far away. Hoseok watched her closer than he ever watched her before, if there was even a micro movement from her, he caught it.

At the current moment they were sitting on the back porch where she normally made flower crowns, she was humming a tune - nothing that Hoseok recognized. It was sad and slow, filled with dread and despair as she pulled her arms to wrap around her middle and curled into a small ball. The sight alone made Hoseok upset, he wanted to cheer her up but knew he needed to let her feel her feelings today and hopefully they would learn more about her. The waiting was torcher to him and her scent filled with agony was more so.

She turned her attention to him and looked him over with sad eyes. “...if you’ve been up all night and cried till you have no more tears left in you - you will know that there comes in the end a sort of quietness. You feel as if nothing is ever going to happen again.”

There it was again, that particular look she got when she was quoting a book. Hoseok gave a sad smile and offered his hand again for the hundredth time today. He watched her look at the hand before grabbing it gently and letting him pull her closer. Slowly he moved her wrist to his nose, he placed a soft but quick kiss to the skin there before his alpha side decided to scent her, his nose skimming the skin lightly as he pulled her closer.

Her eyes widened as she snapped back to reality, the fogginess of Narnia and the Pevensie siblings faded from her mind. Instead there was a warmth that filled her, something she had missed for so long. She couldn’t help the happy little chirp that passed her lips.

Hoseok froze, eyes snapping open - realizing what he did and dropped her hand immediately. She wasn’t his to scent, to mark - to do anything with. Just as he was about to apologize, she whined instead.

“Alpha, I’m so sorry.” She scooted back from him, head dropped to look at the ground - her seconds of happiness banished to the far depths of her mind.

That wasn’t what he wanted to happen. The alpha moved closer, refraining from touching her. “Why are you sorry? I should be apologizing to you. I shouldn’t have done that. You’re not mine to claim.”

She shook her head and moved back more. His words, while true, still stung her heart and she felt it tighten up, preparing for a new crack to form. “Do- do you not want me?”

Hoseok could feel his own heart crack. “Oh, Sunflower, how could I not want you to be mine?” He questioned and she paused, her head tilting a little to look up at him with her doe eyes. “It’s just wrong of me to do that without asking, you are not a part of our pack. You might have your own pack-”

“Sunflower?” She tested the nickname on her tongue, loving it immediately. So much in fact she stopped listening to him as soon as the syllables passed his lips.

Hoseok however panicked. “Sorry, it slipped. If you hate it-”

She smiled at him, shining brighter than she did in days. “I love it.” She whispered and moved closer to him this time, reaching out for his hands. They stayed silent for a moment as she looked over his hands in hers. She traced the love line in his palm and dragged her fingertips over his long fingers before her smile slipped away slowly. The omega looked up at him with utter seriousness. “Hoseok…” She bit her lip, gathering the courage to say the next words out loud. “I don’t have a pack anymore. Alpha is -” her bottom lip wobbled with emotion. She didn’t want to say it, she didn’t want it to be real. If she kept it to herself, then she could pretend and things could be a little better.

Lies. Lies. Lies. “Alpha is - is…. He’s dead!” She finally spat out before she clamped her eyes shut tightly, her hands dropped his and fell at her sides curled into fists. It felt like hours passed, her heart pounding so furiously in her chest that she could hear it in her ears.

“I’m sorry about your alpha.” Hoseok spoke as his hand touched her clenched fist. He watched her eyes crack open and she looked at him, truly looked at him.

“We tried to protect him.”

“I bet you did. I can tell. You loved your alpha.”

“With my whole heart.” She whispered.

“I’m sorry Sunflower.” He whispered back as he pulled her into a hug. Her body curled into his, he could feel the weight that she carried and held it for her.

****

Hoseok wasn’t sure how long they stayed out on the porch, but she sat in his lap and looked out at the fields behind the house while she kept her back pressed to his chest. He ran his fingers across her skin, healing touches as he poured his comforting scent around them. By the time Namjoon came to check on them, she was sleepily nuzzling under his chin and whining about not wanting to go inside.

Hoseok chuckled and carried her into the house, bringing her straight to his room to wash up before food. He sat her on the counter of his sink and grabbed a washcloth, wetting it and wiping it slowly over her face and neck. He chuckled as she whined and grumbled at him. “Would you like to get changed?” He asked her as he moved to run the washcloth over her hands. This was the most he has ever seen her act like a true omega and couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face as he looked at her.

“Mmm’kay.” She nodded her head.

“What do you want me to grab for you?” He asked, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear with one hand while he threw the washcloth into the sink basin.

The omega gripped the front of his shirt and didn’t let him step away. “Can I borrow your hoodie? The blue colorful one that is really soft.” Her cheeks were flushed as she rolled the fabric of his shirt between her fingers.

“You want to wear my clothes?” His heart rate jumped with excitement.

“Is that okay?” She whispered.

“Absolutely, hold on.” He left her for just a moment and went to his closest to locate the requested article of clothing. The pullover was soft in his hands and he brought it to his face to scent slightly for her. He returned to the bathroom, she was no longer sitting on the counter, her shirt off but bra still on staring at her own reflection. He stood in the doorway for a moment and watched her touch her cheeks before moving down to her collar bones. There was disgust and loathing in her eyes. She twisted her body left and right, looking over the person who stared at her in the mirror. He knocked on the door and she spun quickly on her heel to look at him.

The omega looked at the hoodie he held out to her and she took it quickly, slipping it over her head. She closed her eyes in slight bliss as the softness of the fabric wrapped around her. After a brief moment she opened her eyes and stared at the male before her. He looked concerned and she sighed before gazing back at the mirror. The words popped up around her head and her mouth began to move. “I can’t remember what it’s like to face a mirror, And not hate the person staring back at me.”

The male blinked at her. “A quote?” He wasn’t sure, he watched her eyes dance around as if she was reading words but the way she said it was also as if she was telling him how she felt.

“Yes, but also the truth.” She stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around him. “I don’t know her, she doesn’t look right. She’s similar - but she’s not me.”

****

Namjoon wasn’t exactly pleased with Hoseok, he could smell him all over the omega. Scenting her wasn’t part of the plan at all. Though he couldn’t say the results were terrible. The omega seemed happy, hovering in the doorway of omega space. He looked her over as she sat at the table, waiting for the food to be served.

“She’s sad.” Hoseok stated, whispering low enough that she couldn't hear. “Her alpha is dead. She knows she no longer has a pack.”

Namjoon frowned and looked over to the other alpha. “We figured as much, but now at least it is confirmed.” He continued to put food on the plate for the omega as Hoseok grabbed a glass to pour her some juice.

“She asked me if I didn’t want her.”

Namjoon’s head whipped toward Hoseok. “How did that-”

“I accidentally scented her, lost in trying to comfort her and I apologized for it. She looked so broken down after I apologized and she just asked. I couldn’t tell her no, because that would be a lie in itself.” Hoseok looked up from the kitchen counter to catch her just turning her head to look back at them. He couldn’t help but return the smile that was on her face. “She’s lonely, Joon. I wonder if she became pack, officially, if it would help with her healing process.”

“We need to tread carefully with that subject. It’s a serious conversation to have with the entire pack.” Namjoon looked up at her as well, catching her attention and smiling back at her as well. “And what if it’s something she doesn’t want?”

Hoseok looked at her, studying the way she looked so small in his hoodie - but it felt right. “She can make up her own mind on that when we address the topic and whatever she decides we all need to be okay with.” He grabbed the glass from the counter and walked away from Namjoon and toward the table. “Here’s your juice, Sunflower.”

Namjoon could see the connection between Hoseok and her. It warmed his heart but he hoped this was the right thing - he would hate for anyone to end up heart broken. He followed in Hoseok’s steps, bringing her plate to her. “I hope you’re hungry Darlin. Jin made this especially for you.”

She smiled at him and accepted the plate from his hands. “I bet it’s delicious.”

****

I sat at the table with the two alphas. The food was delicious like I knew it would be. I couldn’t help the way I was drawn to Hoseok today, in fact I was already feeling a sadness over me because he was sitting too far away. I reached out with my hand for his and was happy when I felt him take my hand in his. I didn’t care to listen to what the two of them were talking about. I was content with this. I missed the feeling that Hoseok was providing. Maybe I was being selfish but I craved this so much.

As I finished my meal, the doctor took my plate and cleared the table. Hoseok offered to bring me to my room but I wasn’t ready to go yet. “Can we wait for Namjoon?” I asked quietly.

“Hoseok smiled at me. “You want him to join us, Sunflower?”

The nickname warms my entire body, starting from my chest and spreading all the way down to my toes and fingertips. “Yes, if he wishes to join us that is.”

“Why don’t you go and ask him?”

I nodded my head and let his hand slip from mine as I walked toward the kitchen to where the good doctor was cleaning up the dishes. I stood in the doorway just watching him for a moment as I thought about him and how he has helped me so much. I know he wants me to remember ‘The Before’ but I’ve tried and anytime I do I get scared. Sometimes I push through but then I get lost in the darkness. Hoseok is a good light, he gives me a path to follow to return safely.

I want to be close to everyone, and I know I have my own little habits with them all, a piece of me is comfortable with them all to a certain extent. Like a routine ingrained in my brain I know I have certain things I can do with them, holding Hoseok’s hands, making pretty flower crowns with Jungkook, cuddling with Jimin and touching Namjoon’s hands and face. I think I feel the most drawn to Hoseok, Jimin and Namjoon, they were the first ones I met. I’m most guarded with Yoongi, but not in a bad way - I don’t want to push him and make him uncomfortable. I limit myself for his own comfort.

“...darlin?” Namjoon’s voice breaks me from my thoughts.

I notice that he is no longer in front of the sink but now in front of me, hand reaching out to touch my arm but as I look down at his hand he drops it away. “Sorry, I was lost in thoughts.”

“Anything good?” Namjoon asked, I know he wasn’t expecting a real answer, most of the time they don’t. I can feel it anytime they ever ask me.

“I think so, it was about all of you.”

That caught his attention. “Oh, do you wish to share or keep those to yourself?”

I thought about it for a moment. “I could share. It’s nothing bad.”

“You don’t have to, ignore my curiosity.”

“I was thinking about the different levels of comfort I have with you all.” I could see a frown starting on his face. “Not in a bad way, For example,” I stepped closer to him and raised my hands to cup his face in my hands, I tapped my fingers gently on the skin of his cheeks. “This isn’t something I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing with Yoongi. My comfort with him isn’t touching…” I let my mind collect thoughts as I trailed my hands down the front of Namjoon’s chest. “It’s more of a verbal comfort with him. I feel at ease with his words because I know he’s speaking the truth when he talks to me.”

Namjoon grabs my wrists with his hands gently, stopping my wandering hands. “Is that so?”

“It’s true.”

“Then do tell, what about Jimin?”

I was startled. “Jimin?” I looked away from Namjoon’s eyes, he had a knowing look that I couldn’t stare at anymore.

“Yes, Jimin.”

“I feel the most with Jimin. Close and safe.” I blushed and hid my face in Namjoon’s chest. “Not to say I don’t feel safe with everyone else but with Jimin…” I trailed off as my heart rate increased thinking about the other Alpha.

Namjoon chuckled gently. “And what about Hoseok?”

A whimper fell from my mouth. “I-I…”

“It’s okay Darlin’. You’re getting to know all of us. I’m glad you feel safe with us because we will all protect you. Bonds are just sometimes stronger than others, it’s okay - that happens.” He let go of my wrist and suddenly fingers were under my chin guiding me to look back at him again. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

I nodded my head and lost my thoughts again. “Oh!” I breathed as soon as I remembered what I was supposed to be doing. “Would you like to join Hoseok and I?”

“What will you two be doing?” He asked as he released my face.

“I was going to sit with him on the back porch, he said he was going to listen to some music.”

Namjoon looked down at me with raised brows and a grin curled on his mouth. “Darlin’, that sounds wonderful. Are you sure you want me to join you both? I feel like Hoseok and you had such a good day together. I don't want to intrude.”

“It was my idea.” I whispered.

“Then I would love to join you both.” He slipped his hand into mine and led me back to Hoseok, who was waiting in the archway of the dining room for us.

Hoseok smiled brightly at us. “Ready to relax and watch the stars?”

*****

The temperature had dropped a little bit, but I didn't mind much. Not when the two alphas offered their warmth. I was sitting in Namjoon's lap this time, my back against his chest as I leaned into him. The alpha was hesitant about it, but I insisted that it wasn't too much for me. Hoseok’s head was resting in my lap and I looked down at him as my fingers played with his hair.

The music was playing softly, instrumental and soothing. Namjoon thought it might help me stay relaxed while I let my mind wander.

The look on his face said it all. I was to stay put. I hated it. So very much that I stomped my foot in defiance as I stared at him.

“Pup, I don't have time for this.” He grumbled.

“Not a pup anymore.” I argued.

He took two steps forward and closed the distance between us. “You’ll always be a pup to me. Now be good. Listen. Stay. Protect the little ones. I’ll be back from the hunt soon.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my lips.

I returned it and grabbed onto him, hoping that he wouldn't leave. The kiss however broke and he wiggled from my hold as he went to the beta, kissing them deeply.

“Love you, keep watch.” Alpha looked back at me and smiled before stepping out.

The memory was short and sweet but it was enough to have tears rolling down my face and onto Hoseok’s cheek. I felt my bottom lip tremble with emotion and I tried to stop it by biting into my lip.

“It’s okay Darlin’, let it out. We got you.” Namjoon’s voice whispered in my ear, his breath tickling the skin there. I felt his arms tighten around my waist and I sank deeper into his hold. I tilted my head to tuck into his neck.

Hoseok was moving as well, off my lap and sitting close, grabbing my hands into his. “Talk to me, Sunflower.”

I sucked in a shaky breath and tried not to whine. “I-it was just…” I let out a small sob. “- just a memory.” My fingers tightened my hold on Hoseok’s hand, afraid that he would let go.

“Easy Omega, I’m not going anywhere.” Hoseok stated as he squeezed my hands twice. I relaxed my hands a little, loosening my grip on him. It didn’t seem like he wanted to leave me but neither did my Alpha and look what happened to him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Namjoon asked, mumbling softly in my hair.

‘No!’ My mind was screaming. I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to remember it. I wanted to pretend and pretend. “It was about my Alpha.” I took my time, thinking of my words carefully. The sound of the music started to relax me again.

Hoseok lifted my hands to his face, nuzzling them with his nose before pressing gentle kisses to both of them. “It’s okay. You don’t have to force yourself.”

I almost sobbed from the comment alone. He could read me so easily. As much as I didn’t want to talk about it, or remember it - I knew I needed to. Maybe deep down I really just wanted to but I was scared. “He was going on a hunt - I was mad at him because he was making me stay home. Protect the little ones - it was what he told us to do.”

“Why were you mad that you had to stay home?” Namjoon asked.

“I was usually allowed to go with him and the others - not to hunt but just to be nearby. The energy everyone had after a hunt was always so exciting. I loved being with them when they celebrated - but for some reason Alpha told me I had to stay behind.” I looked at the stars while talking, I didn’t want to see their reactions. “I’m pretty sure that was the last time I saw Alpha during ‘The Before’.”

I could feel both of them tense at my words. “I don’t have good feelings about it. I think, and maybe I’m still missing memories, the next time I saw Alpha was when they dragged him from the other cell.”

“The other cell?” Hoseok questioned.

It was weird, I didn’t recall the cells before now. I brought it up like a known fact and it was startling. I could see it clearly now. Whenever the door opened, the light would flood in and the room was divided by two cells. Almost like a holding cell you would see in a movie for a jail. “There were two cells. They separated us. Why? It’s not like it would matter if we were together…” I could feel my mind wandering again. It didn’t make sense. They had the others first, they were all in the one cell together and then when we arrived we were put in the other cell. I frowned. “How did I get there?”

***

The two alphas looked at each other and then the Omega in front of them. She was in her own thoughts again, but she was still talking out loud. Every few moments a new question would pass her lips and they hoped for answers along with them, but of course no answers were concluded. Except for one. “I woke up already there.”

Then she was quiet. Staring at the stars while silent tears rolled down her face. She eventually closed her eyes and fell asleep in the doctor’s arms, still holding the other alpha’s hands.

Hoseok almost smiled at the fact that she was still holding his hands, feeling a little happier than he probably should that she felt as comfortable with him as she did. “I don’t think I ever want to let her go.” He spoke quietly.

Namjoon cracked open an eye and looked at the other Alpha. “I know Hoseok. I don’t think she wants to let go either.” He frowned. “Hoseok…” He trailed off as he looked down at the omega.

Hoseok looked up at him. “Hmm?”

“Did I make a mistake bringing her home?” He frowned as tightened his hold on the omega. “I told myself that we would help her and that I wouldn’t get attached. I’m not… at least not completely. I feel for her, and as her doctor I care about her state of mind. I see you’re attached, I know Jungkook and Jimin are too. I can’t help but feel this will eventually blow up in my face.”

Hoseok dropped one of the omega’s hands and reached forward, caressing the other Alpha’s cheek softly before bringing himself closer to place a gentle kiss on his lips. “Joon, we are doing our best here. You’re doing amazing - you make the decisions that you feel are best for our pack. I stand by you with all your choices. This wasn’t a mistake. Don’t doubt it.” He whispered against the other’s lips before kissing him again.

Namjoon sighed as they parted. “Thank you.” he replied with a breathy voice.

*****

They stayed outside for another twenty minutes before Namjoon swooped the omega in his arms and carried her to her room. He sent Hoseok to go take care of the other Omegas while he got her settled. He placed her on her bed, pulling the covers over her and making sure she was covered up. He smiled as she curled onto her side and mumbled something before nuzzling into her pillow, dragging the covers to just under her chin.

The alpha leaned down and pressed his nose to her hair, not yet a kiss but a sort of affection nuzzle. As he was leaning back to straighten up a scent caught his nose. A very familiar scent. The alpha couldn’t help himself as he leaned down more toward the omega’s face and sniffed gently. It wasn’t her. He moved a little lower and stopped as he caught another whiff of it. ‘Yoongi?’ He thought to himself and dragged his nose toward the blanket just under her chin.

The scent was unmistakable. It was Yoongi. The scent dulled but not by years, by a week or so. The alpha couldn’t stop the smile that graced his lips. Yes Yoongi could be cold and over protective with the family but did he have a heart of gold deep down inside. While Yoongi might have not agreed with the Omega coming here, it was obvious he was trying in front of everyone but to see him trying away from everyone’s eyes? Now that was a victory in its own book.

Namjoon walked down to the pack room, standing in the doorway he watched as everyone was snuggling under the covers, shifting against each other to slip into blissful sleep. He found Yoongi at the outer edge of the nest, eyes closed but obviously not sleeping yet. Joon crossed the room quietly and nudged Yoongi gently.

The alpha cracked his eye open and lifted the blanket to invite Joon in. Once the other alpha was comfortable, Yoongi closed his eyes and sighed in content. Hands on his face almost made his eyes snap open, but then there were lips slotted perfectly against his and he groaned against the lips instead. Legs tangled, hands grabbing at each other, trying to get impossibly closer. Lips parted and breathless gasps escaped him as lips trailed down his neck, licking and biting sensually.

“I love you, Yoongi.” The words were whispered in his ears.

“Hmm, love you too Joon.”

“Thank you. I know you’ve been trying and I’m thankful for that and you.”

Yoongi looked at Joon, but the latter had his eyes closed - trying to drift off to dreamland. “Of course, Joonie. Anything for the pack.”

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 42

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: Sex (feat. Wire), mentions of murder

Open Doors

The next few days were... easy. That was the only way to describe them. After Kid had helped you remove the bullets, which took all of 10 minutes, you went about your daily chores, getting a lot of compliments on your new accessory, Killer especially seemed invested in it. You spent time with the girls, performing the sacred rituals: painting nails, face masks, gossiping, giving each other hair trims, even waxing each other. Heat joined in for everything but the last bit, even though it was mostly eyebrows and armpits. You sat in silence with Wire, mending nets. It was nice. There was no need to talk. You gave Mini a bath, having to borrow a swimsuit from someone which was a hair too small for you. She was too big for the bathroom so you were forced to do it on the deck. It was about halfway through when you noticed Kid had pulled up a chair, feet kicked up, with a beer in his hand, to enjoy the show. Others did the same, though they were far more discreet about it. Heat had been inspecting the same knot in the rigging for 20 minutes. In the mornings, you and Killer would have coffee together on the bow and watch the sunrise before making breakfast. Some days breakfast was late, much to Kid's chagrin, because Killer ate first. Telling Kid that "pussy was the most important meal of the day" was definitely what some would call a mistake. You had to flee several times to a more private place, because Kid had no qualms about laying you flat on the dining table. 

Lately, Kid had been coming to the infirmary a lot. A smashed finger here, a stubbed toe there, and he had an awful lot of inexplicable aches and pains. Then afterwards, he would linger and ask what you had done with your day or some other dumb shit like what your favorite things were. You hated the way you looked forward to his stupid smirk showing up on your doorstep. Every time he showed up, he would make the tag on your collar jingle to announce his presence instead of knocking. Sometimes you looked up for him when it jingled on its own, a conditioned response that you hated.

It was another night where you couldn't sleep, plagued by thoughts of the future. You were in the infirmary, trying to figure out what to do, even though you really didn't want to think about it at all. You found yourself staring at the place in the wall where the Big Fucking Hole used to be, a bit ashamed to admit that you missed it and all of Kid's silly antics. You went to the wall and put a hand on it. It glowed a soft yellow as a door manifested in that space. Part of it was metal, so that he could open it if he wanted, but there was a different non-metal lock on it, so that he couldn't open it if patients were in the room or you needed privacy. It was the type of door that rolled on a track, so that it would be completely out of the way when it was open. You weren't going to tell Kid about it, wondering how long it would take him to notice on his own. You didn't want to answer any questions about why you did it in the first place, because you didn't really know yourself. 

Later in the day, as you were helping make repairs to the ship with Reck and Pomp, Kid came barreling from around the corner, out of nowhere, yelling for you. You were alarmed, thinking something bad had happened. Kid skidded behind you, crouching to hide, with something in his hand. 

"Ya gotta protect me, Rottie!" There was a shake to his voice that sounded scared, but it was really him trying not to laugh.

You had your gun drawn and pointed where Kid had come from in half a second. Unlike the others, you actually listened and acted accordingly, only because Kid sounded serious, at least to your ears. Before Kid could tell you they were just fooling around, Heat came face to face with your barrel, well more like chest-level, since he was much bigger than you. Your trigger finger twitched, but thankfully didn't pull, recognizing Heat, who had jumped back. You let your breath out and holstered your weapon, with an apologetic look at Heat, who was beyond pissed.

"KID! I swear I'll kill you. Give it back!"

"Insubordination! Get him, doll!" Kid pointed at Heat from behind you.

It was hard not to laugh, when a huge, menacing beast was attempting to hide behind your much smaller frame. Kid knew Heat wouldn't lay a finger on you, but he would light Kid's ass up in a second. You were confused.

"I'm not fighting Heat to protect your ass." You looked over your shoulder at him. "What did you do? Give what back?"

"Kid, please. I'm begging you," Heat pleaded. "I'll give you my dessert for a month."

Kid pretended to think. "Mmm not good enough."

"I'll... do that thing you like."

Kid paused decidedly longer at that. "Tempting."

You snatched the paper from Kid's hand while he was distracted. You were about to hand it to Heat without looking at it, but realized it looked like a wanted poster. It was your wanted poster. It was... altered. You bit your lip to keep from smiling. 

"Y/N I'm so sorry. I didn't know one day you'd be on the ship. Please don't hate me." 

Kid had made good on his internal promise to show you Heat's self-made pin-up of you. Wire and Killer were interested in what was going on, Wire more so because he caught a glance of your gun in Heat's direction, Killer because he knew Kid was being mischievous. 

"I don't know, Heat..." You teased. "I'm pretty upset." The poster was expertly combined with pictures from some racy magazine to make it look like you were totally naked on it. "Did you really think my boobs would be that small?" The model was fairly small-framed and petite. "I've got a bit more meat to me I think." 

It was Heat's turn to be confused. "You're not mad?" 

You shrugged. "It's kind of cute that you have a little celebrity crush on me." You handed it back to him. "Fix it, though. It's completely inaccurate." You stood on your tiptoes to reach Heat's ear. "And that's an order," you purred. You must have guessed his kink right, because when you came away, his face was red and he had a big grin on his face.

"Yes, Cap- Ma'am." Heat corrected himself so he didn't disrespect Kid, but he wasn't opposed to calling you "Captain" behind closed doors, in fact, he would be thrilled. He rushed away with his artwork before he could develop a raging boner in front of everyone. 

"I told him ya wouldn't be mad." Kid stated. 

"Kid! What if I had shot him!?" 

"Ya didn't." A smirk moved to grace Kid's features. "Now who's the guard dog," he said, flicking the tag on your collar.

"Whatever. Next time, I'll let you be incinerated." You walked away from Kid, catching Pomp, Reck, Killer, and Wire staring with amusement. "And what are you bozos looking at? Get back to work." 

Killer and Wire exchanged looks. "Bozos?" 

"Wait. Hang on. I didn't mean you." You glanced at Kid, contemplating switching roles and hiding behind him, but were too proud. It was too late. They had that look on their faces. 

"Better get ta runnin, doll," Kid chuckled.

You barely got two steps before you were slung over Killer's shoulder, Wire smirking down at you walking behind Killer. "You're just gonna let Smallest and Tallest steal me like this? I have work to do!" 

"Yer dismissed for the day." There wasn't much else to do anyway.

Several hours later, you were facedown in a pillow soaked with sweat and drool and tears, trying to muffle your screaming. It felt like your cervix was in a boxing match, and losing, with Wire's huge cock. You were sticky and sweaty, drying fluids on your back and thighs. Your thighs were going to give out from holding your body up for so long. They were shaking even though Wire was supporting most of your body. He and Killer made you climax so many times you lost count. At this point you were begging them to let you rest. Both sets of lips were swollen, from kissing or fucking depending on which ones. Your fingers were curled into the sheets so hard you thought your nails would put holes in them. 

"You're taking Wire so well." Killer was petting your hair, gently tugging it to pull your face from the pillow. "We want to hear you though."

"If we can't hear you, you're gonna have to do it all over again."

You whined. "I can't take much m-more." 

"You talked such a big game and now you're trying to tap out? That's too bad." Wire brought a hand down on your ass. "You're done when I say so." He grunted as your cunt clenched around him. 

"You can do it, darlin." Killer rubbed your back. He was done, throughly satisfied after taking turns fucking your pussy with Wire. You wanted them both at the same time, but Wire didn't think you were ready for that yet. Killer agreed. They were always the two that held back. Heat and Kid were all for whatever you wanted to do and barely ever told you no. 

"F-fuck." The muscles in your body tensed. You were so close, yet reluctant. 

"Come on then. Finish on this cock so I can give you want you really want. Which is what?"

"I want y-your cum. P-please, Wire."

"There's my good girl," Killer said, his hand slipping under your body to play with your clit. 

"A-ah." You fought the urge to smush your face back into the pillow. 

Killer, who had become well aware of the faces you made when you came, could tell you were close. "Cum for us. Let Wire know how much you appreciate him fucking you." 

You opened your mouth in a pained cry as an intense feeling of pleasure seeped into every fiber of your body. The inside of your thighs got considerably wetter. "T-hank you, Wire." If it weren't for him, you would be completely collapsed in a pile of mush in the middle of the bed. All your limbs felt like jelly. 

Wire pulled you tighter against him, shooting his load as deep as he could get it, doubling over you. He kissed between your shoulder blades. "Well done." 

As soon as he let go of you, you flopped on your back, exhausted. 

"Let's get you in the bath." Killer scooped you up.

Wire was putting his clothes back on.

"You're not coming?" 

"I'm too tall. Not comfortable." 

You blew him a kiss. "Night night then." 

"Night night." Wire scrunched up his face. He hated how that came out of his mouth. 

After Killer ran the hot bath, he got in the water and set you between his legs. He massaged your scalp as you laid on his chest, lazily washing your hair. You sighed contentedly, stretching out and letting Killer's hands wander as they pleased when he washed the rest of you. He made you feel so safe when you were in his arms. You'd never had a refuge like that before. You turned around and pressed a kiss to Killer's lips, which he gladly returned. 

There was a knock from the door to Kid's room. 

"Yeah?" Killer replied. 

Kid walked through. "Mind if I join ya?" He was already shedding clothing, and his metal arm, all over the floor. 

Your eyebrows pushed together. "You know how to knock first? And you asked permission? Where's Kid?" 

"Shut up. I can be a gentleman." Kid lowered himself on the other side of the tub. He pointed between the two of you. "So which one of ya is gonna wash me?"

You patted the water in front of you. "Come sit. I like to be sandwiched between my two favorite boys." 

Kid moved to sit in front of you. "Which one is yer favorite favorite?" 

"Well his name starts with K-I." You washed Kid's back, appreciating its broadness. 

"Ha! I knew it was me!" Kid paused. "Wait. Damn it." 

You laughed. There was no way you would choose. Killer irritated you way less, but Kid was devastatingly charming when he wanted to be. 

Killer caught your wrist when you strayed too close to Kid's stump. "Let me get that."

You were a little embarrassed that you didn't think anything of it, but obviously Kid might be sensitive about his injury. "Sorry." You wondered if you could give him his arm back, if he would like it back. You moved to sit next to Killer, watching him methodically wash around the missing limb.

It brought a smile to your face watching the two of them, who very obviously knew each other inside and out, trusted each other completely. You leaned against Killer, still very tired, not opposed to being sandwiched between them again in Kid's bed. You slept better that way. If Kid had noticed your remodeling project, he didn't say. You were a bit disappointed, eager to see his reaction. 

Killer turned his head to you. "Sing that again." 

"Huh?" You had been sining under your breath without being completely conscious of it, waiting for them to be done. "It's just the Bink's brew song." 

Kid groaned. "Killer, don't make her sing it. She's bad at it and that song is annoying." You could always count on Kid to be brutally honest.

Killer looked at you insistently. It made you self-conscious, especially now that he was staring, so you ran through the words quickly:

Gather up all of the crew, it's time to steal all Binks' brew. We will go, to where, who knows? The loot will be our guide. Robbed behind the tavern's side. Thieves and bandits far and wide. Whores they sing, of lustful things to pirates passing by.

"Wow, that was even worse than the first time. Nice." Kid snickered.

"The first time? Kid, you've heard her sing it before?"

"Yeah it was fucking awful. Opposite of a siren. Made me want to jump overboard." 

"Maybe you should have. Damn." You were regretting extending him an olive branch. 

Killer gave you a sympathetic look. "Where did you hear that version?"

"What do you mean? Everyone knows every island's got a spin on it." You were puzzled about where this was going. "It's the one from my island. My hometown." 

"KID!? You didn't recognize it?!"

"Fuck are ya talking about? Ya know I always hated that song. Sounds the same as when Heat used to sing it to get on my nerves." Kid seemed to think about it. "Hang on. That's why it sounded kinda familiar I guess." Kid went on. "Ha! That's funny. Yer island and our island had the same version."

You and Killer had shared a glance immediately when you both realized the connection. Kid was working on it, almost there. 

"No!" Kid snapped his head to face you. "Yer not...?!

"From an island that hasn't got a name because the leadership changes with the gangs? From an island built on crime? Yeah I am."

"NO FUCKING WAY!" 

"Come on. Let's talk about it in Kid's room. The water is getting cold." Killer suggested. 

"Why my room?"

"Because this one made a mess of my sheets," Killer wrapped a towel around your shoulders. 

You felt your face burn with blood rushing to your cheeks. "That's your fault," you mumbled. 

Kid refused to have you wear one of Killer's old shirts that you had become accustomed to. You were in his room, so you had to wear his shirt. Well, first he insisted that you didn't need to put anything at all on, but you had fought him on that. Kid didn't even try to mask his desire for you, eyes glued to your tits, and you really couldn't begin to fathom going another round with him. Killer and Wire wore you out. You had started to lay back down on Killer when he was settled. Kid stopped you and demanded that he get a turn because Killer had you all day and in the tub. It gave you a warm feeling to know that you were wanted. 

Kid went on and on about the adventures of the two of them and the trouble they would get into as kids. He explained that the four of them used to lead gangs themselves before they became pirates. Then he talked about how bad the food was there, when you could even get your hands on it, and how shitty it was to live in the environment as a kid. It made you jealous to hear of their time together. Maybe if you had something like that, you could have survived there. Eventually something would have happened to force your hand though, you were sure of it. 

"So what made ya leave? Other than all the shitty things I already mentioned." 

You took a deep breath. "You already know most of it. It was chaos, as you said." You continued. "Once all my friends were gone, I had no where left to go except to find another gang to join. And by then I was sick of that life. They weren't even friends really. We all just stuck together out of necessity." 

"What happened to them?" Kid asked.

"The same thing that always happens: they died, or they left, or they were stolen." You sighed. "Maybe it would have been different if I had met one of you." 

"No," Killer said. "You had to go your own way to be who you are now."

You snorted. "Would have preferred to skip the torture bit of 'going my own way'." You went on. "I was a sitting duck without a group. I finally decided to leave for good when I saw a girl a little younger than me get murdered in cold-blood. It could have easily been me there instead of her."

"What did the girl look like?" Kid's voice was melancholy. He had a hard time coming to the conclusion you were from the same island, but he already knew the answer before you replied in this case.

"Petite. Short hair. Freckles maybe. I don't know. She was far away."

"Victoria." Kid said, even more sadness in his voice.

"Her name was Victoria," Killer clarified. He was surprised to know that you were even closer to them than you realized, yet somehow never crossed paths. 

Kid moved from behind you to retrieve the picture he had of her. He handed it to you.

"Yeah... That's her." You had thought she looked similar to the girl from your past, but memories were fuzzy and you thought there was no way you could be from the same island. You were wrong. You gave it back to him. "I'm... sorry."

"So it wouldn't have been different if ya had met one of us. We couldn't even protect Victoria." 

You looked to Killer, who was equally sad. There was nothing you could say to make either of them feel better. It was clear that this was a deep wound that you couldn't heal. You felt like you were intruding on their private emotions. "I can leave," you said softly. You felt sorry for bringing it up unknowingly. 

"Please stay," Kid's voice was scratchy. 

Killer explained the whole story so you could put the pieces together. You had switched places with Kid so that his head was resting on your chest. You couldn't see his face, but you could feel the fabric against your chest become damp. He was crying. The only comforting gesture you could think of was to run your hand through his hair. Killer was sad, but he was always better at controlling his emotions. Kid wore his heart on his sleeve. Eventually, you could feel his breathing become slower and deeper and could hear snores coming from Kid.

"Is he okay?" You asked Killer, who was still awake next to you. 

"Yeah. Victoria was our first crush. Kid was head over heels for her. He was devastated, we both were, when she was killed. If he thinks about her for too long, he gets like this." Killer wanted to change the subject before he ended up like that too. "I can't believe all this time we were from the same island."

"Me neither."

"Wire and Heat are going to be beside themselves." 

Your eyes rested on Kid. A few months ago, this would have been insane to you. 

"Don't worry. He'll be the same Kid you know and love tomorrow." 

"Love is a strong word." You narrowed your eyes at Killer, suspicious that he was insinuating something.

"It is." You thought he had fallen asleep the pause was so long, but he continued, "Kid has grown very attached to the idea of you staying on the crew." And more softly, as if not to wake him, "Very attached to you." 

"Funny. He said a very similar thing about you."

Killer's eyebrows went up, a blush spreading across his face. "He did?"

"Well, his exact words were 'Killer really likes his little kitchen whore'." You laughed quietly, trying not to let your chest shake.

Killer huffed. "It's called a sous chef."

"That's what I fucking said!" Your voice was louder than intended. Actually, why were you two even whispering? A sea train could run over Kid and he would still be asleep. You noted that Killer made no other corrections to your statement. 

Next Chapter

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 34

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. Please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.

Also, Merry Christmas! I'm sorry I've been AWOL for the past few weeks, but I finally got a chance to write again and wanted to get this short part to you before Christmas. It will act as the finale to the first book of A Sweet Mishap - I definitely want to continue writing about this couple, but I think this is a nice way to wrap it up for the year and I'll come back with a sequel in the new year.

Potential Trigger Warnings: mentions of violence, rape, therapy, depression, sex

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I rise early, with the sun like usual despite not having to work today. I refuse to get out of bed until I absolutely have to. But I prop myself up with an obnoxious amount of pillows and drag my laptop over from the empty side of the bed onto my lap. I’m determined to submit all my assessments today before my session with Dr. Katelyn, slowly removing stresses one at a time.

I carefully read through each word and sentence making minor edits as I go and then with a deep breath hit submit on each one. For once, I actually feel highly confident with my essays, knowledge and with the grade that I hope to receive. Despite working myself to the bone all semester with so many priorities to balance I feel I actually managed to submit work that I’m proud of. I attribute it to my steadily improving mental health and clarity.

Once I close down my college tabs I decide to try to do a little planning of my own for the summer. Jensen’s organised so much, a lot that I don’t even know yet–just that he’s got surprises that I’ll like. I grew up in such a small area, yet I know he’s mostly lived in the larger cities, so my plan is to give him more of the country. I research diners and hiking trails and make sure some of my favorite spaces are still operating. The list of things I want to do is extensive, but I know, as much as I want to take the full three months, Stewie will need me back at Mamma Jo’s. He’s agreed to a month so far, but I could tell even that long concerned him. He only agreed becuase he knows he can rely on the juniors, which I promised to train up before I leave Thankfully, most of them have a lot of potential and are fast learners. As I’m searching through sites a Facetime notification pops up and I answer instantly.

“Hey Darlin’! You look comfy.”

“Good morning, Handsome. I am, but there is one thing that would make me comfier…”

“Less than a week and you can fall asleep in my arms every night for a month.”

“Except when we visit my parents…”

“Yeah, except then. But you’ll still be nearby, not a country away.”

“Yeah. I can’t wait! I was actually just researching places I want to take you back home.”

“Really? Any hints?”

I shake my head, “Nope! You’ve got your secrets, I’ve got mine.”

“Fair enough. You got therapy soon?”

“Two hours.”

“They’ll probably need me on set by then. I just wanted to check in while I had a chance.We’re pushing hard to be finished by Friday, I have no doubts. Then there’s just the wrap party that night, then I’ll see you.”

“I wish you could come to my last show…”

“I wish I could show you off at the wrap party. But it’s okay, we get a whole month together in Texas and that means so much more.”

“I really can’t wait. I submitted my assessments this morning, so I’ve just got therapy, a few more shows and my last few shifts at the cafe. I’m counting down each day and each road block. You know I’ve brocken so many of my New Years Resolutions, and I couldn’t be happier. And I owe most of that to you, so thank you.”

“Anything for you. I love seeing that smile on your face, especially knowing I helped put it there. But that’s just it, you’re doing all the work, I’m just here to cheer you on and offer support when you need it. You really are a star, I just want to watch you glow and reignite that spark that others tried to dim.”

I smile at him, then bite my lip as I remember I conversation from my last session with the doctor. “Jens…I thanks…Also, I’ve been meaning to…” He stays ever patient and smiles as I ramble, letting me get there on my own, “I talked to Dr Katelyn last week about my issues with intimacy and some fears, concerns, thoughts about our holiday. I know we’ll be alone alot and likely sharing a bed while we’re at your place and I just…I want to be open to things, but I feel like I’ve never-Nothing’s really ever been on my terms. I’ve always just gone along with what the guy wants. She suggested that maybe I should treat this relationship like a first. Like I’m in highschool and we’re touching each base. Slow and at my pace.”

He nods the whole time. “Of course. Everything is on your terms with me. I’d never push. I’m happy to cuddle, maybe make out and if we don’t have sex during the trip that’s fine. I don’t want you to feel pressured or like I’m expecting anything, because I’m not. I just want to spend time with you. And if you decide it’s too much to sleep in the same bed every night, you can go into the guestroom whenever you want. We can make sure it’s set up nicely for you so you can have a comfortable escape when you need it. A space that’s all yours and I won’t ever go into unless you want me to. We can set it up on the first day if you want. You can choose whatever decor you want.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that. But Jens, what if…What if I want to…you know, have sex at some point?”

“If we get through the first three bases and you are 100 per cent on board and comfortable with going the home run then we tackle that base like all the others. Slow and at your pace. And if we start and you need to stop then you just tell me and we stop, but I’ll be reading all the signs your body gives me and if I think it’s too much I’ll stop it, just like last time.”

I nod, “Okay. Do you mind if I continue to talk to Dr. Kate about it today?”

“I hope you do. But you never need my permission to talk about anything with her. There’s no NDA here, and even if there was it wouldn’t pertain to our relationship. Anything between us is fair game. I think you already know that, but I’ll remind you as much as you need, that will never change.”

“Thanks.” I glance down at the time on my computer screen. “I should start getting ready.”

“Alright, Beautiful. I’ll talk to you tonight. Have a good session and a great day.”

“You too-You have a great-You know what I mean.”

“I do. Bye.” He blows me a kiss as he ends the call and I can’t help but blush. As I drag myself out of the comfy bed and into the shower I think back to that day in December. I really did win the lottery when I accidentally spilt that hot cocoa on him. That was the best sweet mishap I’ve ever made.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,

@winchesterwild78, @kr804573, @chriszgirl92, @smoothdogsgirl

@speakinvain, @deans-baby-momma, @1967winchesterimpala

@lmg14, @superrey, @kamisobsessed

[v3nusxsky]

Tangled passion 18+

*Authors note~ Leonora’s redemption, I couldn’t stand leaving the story as long as the previous chapter took I love to hear your thoughts! Feel free to drop them in my dms or asks!*

Trigger warnings~ mommy dom Larissa, daddy/mutt/mongrel/puppy switch! Leo sub r redemption for lesso punishment for lesso edging spanking hair pulling degrading praise voyeurism semi public sex oral sex over stimulation kink fingering, revenge punishment fingering thigh riding body writting marking kink

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It appears not only are you truthful while inhibited but also sleepy. Larissa almost felt mean moving your sleeping form away from the roaring fire and into her spare bedroom, typically used for students who are struggling, before moving to ready herself for the night. Unbeknownst to you, Larissa actually found Leonora quite stunning. And if she was on the market for a brat to tame? Leonora would’ve fit. But she wanted a sweet little thing, to spoil and dote on. You fit the bill perfectly and to see you hurt by nothing more than an untrained mutt broke her heart. Larissa could definitely teach the stubborn woman a thing or two about respect. Together, you’d both put her plan in motion, after all you’d be so good for Larissa that she wouldn’t even need to try and convince you to trust her.

And she was right. “Rissa turn lights off” you grumbled seeking out the last scraps of darkness you could find as the principal opened the curtains. “But sweet girl, I have a plan to get you everything your pretty self desires. Mommy is going to fix your problem love, so up we get and we can get started sweetheart”. For a few seconds you thought you’d misheard, what did you desire? How drunk did you get last night? All it took was a small shift to sit up and the stinging on your behind had memories forcing their way back to the front of your mind. The club, Leonora, being in Larissa’s space and overly emotional. Oh gosh you’d told the older woman about how you feel. The inner debate of wanting both women but knowing you shouldn’t, yep. You’d spilled everything to her.

“I uh Rissa” you started, brain spiralling into all the ways you could explain a complex situation to someone so goddess like, “please don’t hate me.” Those four little words broke the shifters heart more than you’d ever know. “Oh sweet girl, I could never!” You felt a gentle hand wiping the tears you hadn’t realised were falling. “How about we get some breakfast and we can talk sweetheart? I think it’s time we put all our cards on the table, wouldn’t you agree?”

Another piece of information about you that Larissa adored was how easygoing you are, breakfast went down a treat, her heart swelling every time you thanked and complimented her. But now as you both moved to her desk, you immediately started to shake. The rhythmic thump of your toes tapping the floor as your leg bounced. Your shoulders seem to curl into your body and Larissa noted that you couldn’t maintain the same eye contact you had minutes ago. “Sweetheart, you know I very much wish to become your dominant?” She murmured gently not wanting to spoke you but also needing to start the dialogue which would prevent you being in an anxious state any longer than necessary.

Nodding in acceptance of her statement you let out a little hum which she took as encouragement to continue. “Well sweetling, I’ve always been an open person and I’d be lying if i said I don’t see the attraction to Leonora. While I’m wasn’t looking for a brat, I certainly can deal with them. And you my darling are my good girl aren’t you?” Her words coated in dominance had you slipping into the submissive role instantly. “Yes mommy” you whispered still not quite understanding what the blonde wanted to convey.

“Good girl” oh dear god you were dead. Definitely. Those two words ringing like heavenly bells in your ears, pulling a whimper from your throat involuntarily. “Oh, aren’t you just so precious pretty girl? Poor baby has a little praise kink” she teased evidently enjoying the blush painting your cheeks, no need for any real answer, it seems she can read you like a book. “Okay pretty dove, both of us our interested in Leonora, so you be a good girl for mommy and continue like normal, mommy will talk to Leo for us. But rest assured my love, aftercare will be always given no matter what, Leonora can’t leave my sweet girl like she did yesterday.” Her reassurance causing some of your anxiety to dissipate, leaving you still sat wanting to be closer to the woman. “If you want something dear, you’re going to need to ask mommy” she warned in a teasing manner, eyes sparking with adoration as you stuttered through asking to come and sit on her lap. “You’ve done so many times in less clothing darling, come here before you have to leave for work.”

You spent all Saturday afternoon with Larissa in Nevermore which you immensely enjoyed, just talking and getting to know what each other wanted from this dynamic, likes and dislikes to anything your minds came up with. Leaving for the club was a new kind of sadness, only made better by the blondes promise to arrive at Sinful Souls later on in the night to pick you up.

True to her word Larissa would be there to greet you after your shift at the club, but naturally she had business to attend to before seeing you. A brat to tame. That’s why the blonde shifted her appearance to get through the crowd and demand to see the owner. From there she was led into the back room where her office was. “What can I do for-“ she murmured not even bothering to look up from the paperwork she was clearly bored with. “Y/n…”

“You” the raven haired woman snarled at the principal, moving to approach the principal only to be stopped short. “I suggest Leonora, you sit down before I make you kneel down. This is my time to speak. You will listen” she demanded shifting her stance to appear taller. Truthfully Larissa Weems dripped an unmatched amount of dominance into everything she does. Something she takes pride in. “Yes teacher” was all that was quipped back, Larissa immediately stepping forward to force the other woman on her knees. “Listen up brat, this is how it’s going to go” she stated, kicking off her heels before circling the younger woman.

“You want my little dove out there? Yet you treated her so poorly last night. I can’t be having that. She deserves all the love and care in the world. I can provide that. You however are nothing more than a mongrel in comparison. Yet for some reason my girl wants you too” the blonde couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the glare coming from the clubs owner, “and well, I guess I can see the attraction. See with the right hand to guide you I’m sure you’d be a beautiful puppy for your owner. Dove isn’t capable of handling you brat. But I am so enjoy the taster of what could be in store for you. Red stops this all Lesso, let’s get started” she clapped her hands before promptly turning on her heel to walk over to the sofa.

Shock, anger and arousal was all Leonora could feel. She obeyed the older woman, truthfully she didn’t want to hurt you, guilt was eating her up so she likes to reason that’s why she submitted to the older woman. “Crawl here mutt” she murmured, beautiful cyan eyes darkening with every second her gaze was on Lesso. “Fuck you” she grumbled before going to stand up yet a firm hand immediately forced her back down. “What the fuck are you doing you bitch” she bit as the pressure continued to hold her in place. “Oh what a stupid mutt you are, not going to go down easily hmm? I do love a challenge. Again. Crawl. Here. Now.” Repeating every word slowly as she moved back to where she was, it was times like this shifting had its perks, helping her get to the other woman as quickly as possible.

As if crawling to the other woman wasn’t humiliating enough, being manhandled over her lap certainly was. Lesso was known for her tough personality and physical strength which made this act even more embarrassing. “Remember you can stop this, but a stupid stray like you needs to trained before they get to play with my toys. Thanks to my girl out there I know what you want Leo, so you’re gonna take it, all this fight doesn’t belong here.” She murmured before immediately yanking Lesso’s impossibly tight jeans from her behind, exposing her pale round globes. “These need colour” Larissa murmured thoughtfully, watching as the woman in her lap squirmed slightly in anticipation.

To Leonora’s credit, she took her 20 spanks without even creating a sound, it was the last ten that broke her down. “All done pup, now are you going to be good for me? Or shall I take you out there in front of everyone?” Larissa threatened with a knowing smile, “oh we like that do we? You want everyone to see what a pathetic mutt you are?” Teasing Leonora is definitely something Larissa is going to enjoy, she can only hope this plan works, remembering how good it felt to tame a brat. “No please” lesso whimpered causing Larissa to yank the woman up and Settle her on her thigh, “fuck yourself on my thigh like a good little slut and I’ll consider it.”

Instantly following the command the younger woman rolled her hips eagerly the other woman’s thigh, god she was desperate, the moans now falling freely from her parted lips, desperate pants of breath the only clue she was getting close to the paradise she craved. And she would’ve got there too, if Larissa didn’t wrap her strong arms around her and held her still. “Oh you aren’t coming, dumb mutt, you don’t deserve it, off now” she demanded and immediately noted that her thigh was drenched as the air hit it. “Messy girl” she tutted as lesso bowed her head in shame.

Moving to the desk was probably one of her best ideas, rolling her dress up to her hips, slipping off her ruby red underwear and spreading her legs. “Eat mutt” was all she gave the other woman before yanking her head close to her soaked core again noticing the whimper of pleasurable pain. On her knees, eating out the blonde was clearly something both parties enjoyed as Larissa climbed the hill to her peak, Lesso falling deeper into her submissive side, drunk on the taste of her pussy. “Less teeth slut” Larissa growled out just before lesso flattened her tongue and pushed the principal over the edge. Plunging her tongue in and out of her quivering hole at an almost inhuman pace to bring the woman back down from her high.

Tugging Leonora up but her tight curls the shifter tossed her over the desk like she was nothing more than a rag doll, thanking the gods for her extra strength. Using her foot to kick the woman’s legs open before thrusting a finger into her sopping sex and instantly falling into a fast pace of deep strokes, “such a needy puppy, you just needed a good fucking hmm?” To say the raven haired woman didn’t struggle would be a lie but it turns out a good four orgasms can make someone incredibly plaint. “No more fuck mommy god fucking hell!” She borderline squealed as her fifth orgasm washed over her In brutal waves. Her core now insanely sensitive, red puffy and leaking all over the floor. She barely noticed Larissa grabbing a marker off her desk and scribbling “mommys mutt” in her fancy penmanship.

After ensuring Leonora was cared for adequately, water and helped to redress was all she could help with until Lesso snapped at her and told her to fuck off. “Think about it puppy, because me and y/n are In agreement, you could have all this and more” Larissa murmured before leaving to find you just finishing up your last dance of the night.

[whatswrongwithblue]

The Fire in the Sin

Chapter 25 - A Place To Put Your Pain

Word count: 7,465. Read on AO3. Series Masterlist. <- Previous Chapter.

Summary: some last smut and fluff before the battle. Trigger warnings: overstimulation, unable to orgasm, drunk sex. If you've made it this far into the series, you should know what kind of demon sex these two get up to, it's definitely MDNI kind of content.

Series Summary

In the 1950's, Alastor met the woman he would eventually marry but unfortunately his Radio Demon persona went for her soul rather than her hand. He has to learn what it means to love, and cherish, without possessing and he does. Their relationship is beautiful, strong, unbreakable . . . but he carries a dark secret through their marriage for decades until eventually he has to face the consequences of that secret and leave her, without warning, for seven years. He returns, finding her at the Hazbin Hotel, and has to convince her to forgive him, while being literally bound to secrecy, unable to tell her any of things he now is desperate to explain to her.

(This is a duel timeline fic, timestamps will be a the top of every chapter.)

Chapter 25 - A Place To Put Your Pain

They landed clumsily in their bed together, a soft ooooof leaving her lips as the back of her head sunk into the comforter beneath her. Alastor was above her, his mouth wet and warm against her throat, his body heat radiating into hers and she realized then they were both completely naked.

His hands roamed her body, clumsy and needy, grasping her breasts or her thighs, stroking her ribs or tugging at her hair. Her legs were dangling awkwardly off the edge of the bed and as Mina tilted her head to the side to expose the side of her neck that Alastor was so eagerly sucking on, she saw they were strewn across the bed sideways.

As drunk as he was, his cock was already impressively hard between her legs, teasing between the joint of her thigh and her sex as he pressed himself against her.

Mina raked her nails across his scalp, running her fingers up the back of his head until she could grasp his antlers and pull his mouth back to hers, claiming his lips hungrily. She didn’t really believe either of them would die tomorrow, there was an odd lack of fear in her bones when she thought of the upcoming battle, but the anticipation still had her on edge and she felt it turning into a desperate need for Alastor that felt akin to being in heat again. Less hormonal and less about the feral desire to be bred; it was even more basal than that. Every single one of her senses were craving him. She needed to feel every inch of his body against hers, to taste his desire for her in the sweat that glistened on his skin, to hear the shaky way his voice would break when he said her name, to smell the sweet and Earthy scent of wilderness when she pressed her face into his hairline, and most of all, she wanted to see him come undone at her touch.

And even through his whiskey induced stupor, the way his tongue was dancing against hers, how tightly his fingers were pressed into her skin, Mina got the impression he felt exactly the same way.

She was soaking wet between her legs already, her desire erupting out of her in a way not even her alcohol consumption could damper, and when his fingers found her slit, he quickly had her clit and every bit of her folds coated with her slick.

Alastor played with her pussy in a slow, lazy way at first, letting two fingers stroke each of her folds inside and out, occasionally going high enough to circle her clit and low enough to just brush against the edge of her ass. It was wonderful. It was torture. And she was already embarrassingly close.

She whimpered against his mouth and gave an irritated love nip to his bottom lip.

“I need you,” she growled when she felt his smirk and pulled away to glare at the audacity of him to laugh at the desire that he had caused.

“You have me,” he replied cooly, his eyes glowing mischievously red and he slipped a solitary finger inside her core, giving her a couple subtle strokes before abandoning her once more to return to his game.

“All of you,” she panted, thinking of his cock that she could still feel against her thigh, hard and ready for her.

“But I could do this all night,” he said, letting her clit slip between his two fingers, back and forth, the pressure so nearly perfect if he just pressed his fingers together she would come undone in seconds. “I love the way you feel when you’re this wet,” he licked along her jaw, nuzzling his nose into the top of her neck. “So soft and silky,” he bit lightly on her pulse and mercifully his two fingers finally came together, pushing into her clit as they began working it with rapid circles. “Perfect and entirely mine.”

She arched her back, crying out with relief and pleasure, as he built her up into an orgasm that washed over her body quickly and was over in just a brief few seconds, leaving her instantly wanting another.

“But I do love to watch you cum for me,” he said when she opened her eyes again.

Oh he was in a mood tonight. Teasing and dirty talking, things almost always reserved for when he was in a rut which was still months away, and yet there he was, a devilish glint in his eyes telling her this night was far from over.

Her own smile was ravenous as she shoved at his shoulders, rough enough to successfully make him lose his precarious balance on the edge of the bed, but he quickly recovered and stood up. She followed his movements, sitting up and meeting the now irritated but still heated desire in his eyes.

“You think you can act like that just because I said you were pretty?” she asked, taking his erection in hand and ever so lightly kissing its tip as she pumped him slowly. “When you know how much I need this beautiful cock inside of me tonight?”

His hand snatched a handful of her hair, his sharp claws grazing painful across her scalp, but she resisted the tug as she pressed several more kisses along his shaft.

“When I know you love how this cock looks when its stuffed inside me?” she licked him from base back to tip and then pulled away completely, letting her hand fall to her side as she scooted back further up the mattress and splayed her legs wide for him.

She could feel the puddle she had left on the comforter beneath her, knew there was an enticing sticky trail following her, making her pussy shine and glisten, a welcome invitation for his eyes to take full view of.

“When you and I both know you can make me cum better than that?” she challenged and he reacted immediately, grabbing her by the underside of her knees and pulling her back to the edge of the bed. He let go of one leg for a moment, just to line himself with her entrance before slamming into her, and then he was forcing her legs wider and back until her knees were to her chest.

“Be careful what you wish for, my dear,” he said, furthering his threat with a vicious thrust that she could hear as well as feel.

“You are my wish. Now get down here.” She had him again by the antlers and pulled him down until his chest was pressed against hers. He let go of her legs, allowing her to wrap them around his ribs, as he braced himself on his forearms and sank his body fully into hers.

There were fewer words spoken after that and the room filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing, mixed in occasional moans or gasps of pleasure, Mina’s lusty little whimpers increasing in tempo the closer she got to her next orgasm.

Alastor kept his forehead pressed to hers, leaving almost no space between their bodies, and she could smell the whiskey on his breath, the rye that she would forever associate with him. His eyelids were heavy over his eyes, drunk from his drink and his desire. Occasionally the black tip of a lock of his hair would fall in way that would tickle her neck or the top of her shoulder. Every time he lifted his hips to pull away, she could feel the drag of his cock inside her walls, just for him to return to her, pushing himself roughly back inside her until they were so close, her entire sex was covered by his flesh. His rhythm was a little clumsy, the only real indicator of how intoxicated he was, but the irregularity of it was indescribably perfect. It made it hard to predict when the next brush of his body against her clit would come, how quickly he would rock his hips against hers, or how deeply the next push of his cock inside her would reach.

Having already cum once and her own state of drunkenness still building, Mina’s next orgasm took its time arriving, but she was enjoying herself enough not to mind. Every part of Alastor felt so right, so perfect, against her overheating body that she didn’t want this moment to ever end. But she was getting close now, her body tightening against her wishes, and she turned her head so that she could kiss and suck on Alastor’s neck, wanting to feel him shudder and groan from a well-placed love bite when she came.

She opened her eyes and saw his shadow on the ceiling above them, its menacing smile stretched wide and glowing green as it loomed over them, watching Alastor fuck her from above. Mina gasped in surprise at it, wondering how long it had been there, and it seemed to acknowledge her eye contact; smiling wider and stretching itself out even further over them, almost as if it were trying to peel itself away from the ceiling and reach for her . . .

Mina came, her body spasming hard around Alastor cock, and she squeezed her eyes shut, clinging tightly to her husband and pressing her face into the crook of his neck, trying to shut out the image of his shadow and the uncomfortable amount of desire she had felt from looking at it just then. When she dared to open her eyes after several moments, it was gone, either having rejoined with Alastor or disappearing into the recesses of the room, which is what it normally did when her and Alastor were intimate. It had never once shown interest in either of them during their love making and the sudden change in its behavior unnerved her, but her reaction to it unnerved her more.

She wondered if Alastor had been aware of it; he was connected to his shadow in ways that Mina would never be able to comprehend, but she did know they had a strange ability to read each other’s emotions and thoughts. It was a part of his soul, after all – a manifestation of his subconscious self. But she decided then she wouldn’t bring it up unless it happened again.

Tonight she wanted to focus on him, on all the lovely ways he would find to fuck her brains out. And her ability to read him told her he hadn’t been anywhere near close. In fact, she had been so lost in her thoughts about his shadow, she hadn’t quite realized he had never stopped pounding into her; only slowing his rhythm down ever so slightly when she came but now he was building her back up again.

Alastor was a master of this, of riding the currents of her last orgasm and using it to keep her going. He would slow his pace for just a little while, paying close attention to the tightness in her body and the sounds she was making, waiting for the little whimpers of overstimulation to turn back into the breathy sighs of building pleasure, and then he would begin to ram into her harder than before.

Mina held on tight, crying out with each slide of his cock inside her, begging him to keep going just like this, until she was seeing stars and her entire world existed of nothing but the man above and inside of her. She curled herself up underneath him, angling her hips upwards while leaning her head forward, letting him slam into her pussy at a more devastating angle while she bit down on his shoulder. He grunted in approval at the pain and the moment she tasted his blood on her tongue she came again, the only thing stopping her scream being the mouthful of his flesh she had her teeth clamped around.

He pulled out of her once her orgasm had passed, his cock wet and still very hard against her stomach as he kissed her, chasing the taste of his own blood as his tongue delved into her mouth and sucked on her lips. Mina couldn’t stop the purring that burst forward from her throat at the sudden switch to tender affection, her body grateful for the brief reprieve from the aggressive fucking she just took, especially because judging by the state of him, Alastor still wasn’t close to finished.

Once again, she was reminded of his rut, but the difference was he would and could cum often and easily when in rut, he just had zero to little refractory period then. This was a case of whiskey dick at its finest; not too drunk to get it up but numb enough that his own orgasm would evade him for quite a while. Her swollen and puffy cunt throbbed at the thought of it, a mix of delight and concern at how much more cock it would have to take before the night was over.

Several minutes later, they were still on round four. Mina was on her knees this time, her hips lifted as high as they could go, her back flexibly curved so that her chest was resting on the bed beneath her, each thrust Alastor made into her rocking her forward and making her claw into the blankets below her, trying to hold off her next orgasm by sheer stubborn will alone.

This was far from her favorite position; it was still lovely and made her climax hard and fast every time; the sweet drag and push of his cock inside her impossible to ignore, making her drip down her slit, coating her thighs and her clit, and she did enjoy being so completely at Alastor’s mercy like this. But he was so far away when she was knelt like this before him. With him behind her, she couldn’t hold him, kiss him, run her fingers along his skin, or hold on tight to shoulders or antlers. Almost all the intimacy she was craving was gone in this position, but it was one Alastor found great pleasure in.

She knew he loved the visual of it, getting to watch every inch of his length as he moved inside of her, her sex on full view for him so he could properly see just how wet and swollen he could make her. Mina kept her tail lifted high and to the side, encouraging him to appreciate the full view of just how lovely his cock made her feel; how tight her walls could grip his width, how deeply her pussy could take him, how wet she could get him, even down to his base, as he fucked her senseless.

His pleasure was so closely tied to her own, he struggled to enjoy himself unless he knew she was, too. Alastor needed to see her, hear her, to know he was unravelling her in order to get off, and Mina was doing her best to lean into her pleasure for him, and rock her own hips back into him, and make those debauched and wanton noises for him, but it was making her so fucking close and she didn’t want to cum this time without him.

So of course he decided to amp things up.

She felt the cool tendrils of his tentacles begin coursing up her back, slithering first down her spine, before more were wrapping around her hips and her shoulders. They covered her in seconds, giving her that flesh on flesh contact she so greatly lusted after. One pulled her hair back from her neck, stroking the flesh their rather than choking her like they usually did, and then reached for her mouth, pausing at the partition of her lips as if for permission and she opened her mouth eagerly, letting the appendage slide and undulate across her tongue before she wrapped her lips tightly around its width, sucking on it with as much lusty enthusiasm as she would Alastor’s cock. She heard him gasp and groan behind her, the slamming of his cock deep inside her getting harder and more insistent, and she took the tenacle in further, letting it hit the back of her throat, knowing Alastor could feel every inch of the delicious darkness inside her warm and willing mouth.

And then more tentacles went for her erogenous zones, two pinching and twisting at her nipples while another one began sliding across her clit and Mina was done for. With her eyes squeezed shut, she had no way of knowing just how many shadows she had wrapped around her but she could feel them everywhere, holding her in their tight embrace, toying with her body and pushing her over the edge even has she bobbed her head and sucked on the one fucking her mouth.

She came again, her cunt clenching down painfully on the fat width of Alastor’s cock, having completely lost herself and her mind to the feel of his essence all around her. This one shook her body for close to a minute, Alastor’s slow drawn out drags of his cock inside her drawing out her orgasm to the limits of what her body was capable of giving her, prolonging it until she was completely spent and limp beneath him.

The tentacles became slack around her, as did Alastor’s claws that had been gripping into her hips, giving her reprieve enough to pull away, crawling a couple paces on her hands and knees until she felt his cock slip out of her and she could twist around and raise herself up until she was in the same position as he was; upright on her knees and chest to chest with.

“Oh you poor thing,” she mused as she ran her fingers over his taught muscles, kissing along his chest and feeling the tension all along his back, ribs, and abdominal muscles. He was never going to finish in the state he was in. Frustrated with himself, overstimulated, and blinded by his own drunken mood. Gone was the jovial side of him that she had seen earlier, even the adoring sleepy lust that had hooded his expression earlier was missing. Every bit of him, from his smile to his ligaments, were pulled as tight as a bow string. She looped her arms around his waist, giving his tail a soft, lazy stroking as she leaned up and kissed along his jaw line. “Let me help you.”

“Mina-“ he began to protest, and she shushed him before he could get on his bullshit. She knew every excuse that would pass through his lips, his ego bigger and more demanding than the cock that was still sporting what must be a painfully hard erection.

She continued her affections to his tail as she pressed her torso against him, lightly running her fingers through his fur as she kissed him. He was hesitant at first, still tense and irritated, but the longer she teased him, the more she felt him relaxing against her. As much as she wanted to, she ignored the throbbing member between their bodies, feeling it twitch against her flesh, eager for more attention and she let that need build until she knew the threat of numbing overstimulation had finally passed.

Alastor’s mouth became more demanding against her own, his tongue delving deep between her lips, stroking against hers with his teeth occasionally nipping painfully down until she could taste the metallic tang of her own blood. All the while she stroked his tail, letting his desire build and build, and she even dared to run her fingers through the very top of his ass crack, smirking against his lips every time she felt him shudder beneath his touch.

She finally gave in and took his shaft in hand, feeling the bit of precum leaking out of it as she used the pad of her thumb to smear it over his tip, and she knew he was good and ready for more.

Mina purred and broke the kiss, slowly stroking his cock as she nuzzled her nose against his. With a pleading look in her eyes and a well-timed flutter of her lashes, she pleaded for him to lay on his back for her, knowing it would have the desired affect on him.

She crawled over his body, letting her legs cage in his hips and pinning his warm and velvety smooth length underneath her core, not inside her but nestled between her folds.

He groaned and shifted beneath her, unused to the feeling of being teased in this manner, and reached his arms up to grab her.

“Ah ah ah,” she said, taking his hands off her body and lacing her fingers through his own. She leaned forward, pushing his arms down as she did so until they were forced into the pillows on either side of his head.

He chucked a little, tilting his head as he analyzed this new dominating persona she was taking on.

“You’re adorable,” he said with a smirk, “thinking you can hold me down.”

She kissed him quickly and tightened her grip on his hands.

“You’ll stay put,” she said and ground her hips down, letting her sex slide up and down his shaft, her clit rubbing against the bulging tip in a way that had them both gasping a little. “If you want me to let you cum inside me.”

“Darling-“ he tried to warn but she abruptly stopped her movements, making him huff with frustration.

“Or I can just keep doing this,” and when she felt him relax she began rocking against him again. “Make you cum all over yourself. I bet you look even prettier all messy and wet like that.”

“Let me up,” he growled but she could feel his cock twitching through her slick and swollen lips and knew he was enjoying this more than he wanted to be.

She moaned, a throaty slutty loud moan, just the way she knew he liked her to.

“But this feels so good, Al’” she said, pressing down harder and feeling his cock and balls becoming even more soaking wet and she slid over him with perfect ease. “You’re so thick and hot for me, it feels amazing against my clit just like this.”

She rocked even quicker, pushing his hands down firmly into the pillows, and she didn’t have to fake the sounds coming from her throat.

“Fuck,” he hissed against her ears as she buried her face into his neck and he began to lift his hips as he joined her rhythm.

“Hmmm, you do like this, don’t you love?” she said, her voice affected by the vibration of her purrs that she kept going, knowing the vibration of it against his chest turned him on.

“You’re a fucking tease,” he said between heaving breaths, his voice laced with anger and undeniable desire.

“Oh, but you’re so close now, aren’t you?”

He stayed silent, the flash of red in his scowling eyes the only confirmation she needed.

She laughed again, pressing her lips to his until she felt him give in and kiss her back. He reached up and bit her hard on the neck when she broke the kiss, drawing blood in long shallow lines across her throat when she pulled away more quickly than he could let go.

“You’re lucky I like that,” she said, squeezing his hands in warning. Still, he kept his arms where she had put them, pinned beneath her weight and unable to touch her.

“You expect too much of me,” he said and sat up, her strength nothing compared to his and he had his hands untangled from hers and wrapped around her hips before she could get a word of protest out.

Mina tried to pout at him ruining her little game, but as her fingers laced through his hair and she felt his cock still pressed against her, even now that Alastor was siting upright with his chest to her, she felt her smile betray her giddiness at his sudden show of eagerness for her.

He grabbed handfuls of her ass, his claws digging into the swell of her flesh as he pulled her roughly to him.

“I’m going to cum in you now and you know it, so you might as well get on with it,” he said, his voice dangerously low and demanding, making her body ache for the feel of him inside her once more. If he told her to sit and spit in that tone of voice, she would have.

She braced herself on his shoulder with one hand while she used the other to hold his cock in place as she slid herself over him, impaling herself on his length until she felt him pushing against the ends of her depths.

“Good girl,” he praised and snapped the fingers of one hand. A vibrator appeared in his grasp and he held it up before her. “Now we’re going to do the rest of this my way. You know what to do.”

Mina took the toy from him and turned it on, pressing it to herself and immediately feeling her final orgasm building. Alastor leaned his weight back on one hand while the other came up to cup her breast, kneading the round flesh and pinching her taught and erect nipple between his thumb and index finger. The blood from the bite he had marked her with was oozing two long red trails down her front and he spread the liquid with his fingers, coating the pale flesh of her breast with his fingertips crimson the heavy swell of her tit bounced against his palm.

He kept his eyes on where they were joined, watching her rub the vibrator over her clit as she bounced on his cock, acting for all the world like a passive spectator while somehow keeping his control over her.

“That’s it,” he sighed, the static in his voice increasing as he neared his own finish, his eyes never once darting from the view of her pussy sliding up and down his shaft.

Mina knew he could feel the vibrations through her body and along his cock and she turned up the speed and cried out as the sting of it hit her clit, and he moaned a guttural, static filled sound as the sensation hit his entire length at once. He came just a few seconds later, his seed hitting the deepest part of her walls in several hot spurts, and she kept riding him until she could feel his essence leaking out of her. Just as she could feel him finally softening inside of her, she came one last time, holding the vibrator against herself until the last spasms faded away and she could take no more.

They fell back into the mattress together, lips clumsily finding each other, fingers tangled in each other’s hair, and in a drunken, post-orgasmic stupor, made out on top of the comforter for several long, mindless minutes, the mess between their bodies all but forgotten as they lost track of all time and senses, other than what they could find in each other.

____

Normally one or both of them would crash after such an intense round of love making but sleep wouldn’t come to either of them.

Mina was curled up into Alastor’s side, her head low on his chest, with her cheek pressed against his sternum and the thump thump thump of his heart beating beneath her ear. Normally she couldn’t hear its beating over the sound of her own purring, but the soothing vibrations wouldn’t come to her.

Alastor’s nails dragged gently up and down her spine, occasionally taking the ends of a lock of her hair and twisting it around his fingers, idly showing her affection as his mind drifted off somewhere other than their bedroom.

She could feel the restlessness radiating off him, the silent frequency of his power like an impossibly low hum just beneath his skin, though he stayed still and relaxed beneath her. His signs of agitation were far too subtle for anyone but her to pick up on and if she hadn’t been so awake herself, she might have missed them. Mina wondered what had his mind so troubled but figured it was all about the battle that loomed just on the other side of the coming sunrise.

Her mind was tormented by other things.

We trusted him. We trusted you.

It had just been a stupid fucking dream, she told herself, willing Charlie’s voice in her head to be quiet.

Scenes of the empty, darkened hotel flashed across her eyes, only becoming clearer when she squeezed her eyelids shut.

Do you really think I would have voluntarily left you?

Alastor had asked her that the day he had first returned. She had felt some relief at the implication that he had been taken from her rather than willingly left, but now the idea of it terrified her more than anything. If it had happened once, it could happen again. And the first time had been horrible enough, she didn’t think she could go through it again. He kept telling her it would all be worth it in the end, but would it? She was far from certain and didn’t understand how he could say that. Unless Abaddon was right, and Alastor still didn’t regret his deal.

Ask him, I dare you.

Mina took in a long, deep breath, feeling the question rising up in her chest like boiling water, burning and scalding her throat before the words even left her lips but Alastor spoke first.

“I need to you help me keep Charlie away from Adam tomorrow. If the wards fall, and he gets involved, you must stay down below with her while I fight him alone.”

She sat up slowly, feeling her cheek still flushed red and warm from where it had been resting against him, and turned her scowl towards the bayou and away from him. Her exhale left her in a heated, quick huff, her agitation ready at the surface before she found her words.

“Not a chance,” she said firmly, the false calm in her voice doing little to hide her disappointment in him.

“You have to.”

“Alastor, I did not go back to Abaddon, agree to go back to work, drag my friends into this mess, your bloody mess, in order to get my powers back, just for you to push me aside when I’m most capable of helping you.”

She turned and looked at him over her shoulder and grew even more furious when she saw he wasn’t nearly as agitated by this conversation as she was. He looked as matter of fact as ever, his smile just an easy thin line and his eyes almost disinterested in what she had to say.

“If you really want to help me, you will help Charlie.”

Mina scoffed at him, hating these vague conversations with him more than ever.

“That doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

“If Charlie and Adam go face to face tomorrow- ”

She spun around, turning on him before he could finish his sentence.

“The only reason Charlie would fight Adam tomorrow is if he kills you. I’m not letting that happen.”

“Of course you’re not, because it won’t come to that.”

“Then why- ”

“Mina,” he finally sat up, grabbing her face in his hands and making her stare him down. “I wouldn’t let either of us be there tomorrow if I thought there was a chance I would be giving up everything I’ve worked towards and that includes you and I. So just fucking listen to me for once. Please.”

“Do you even want me here tomorrow?” she countered.

“No, not really,” he answered quickly, his eyes narrowing at her. “I’m still counting on Abaddon showing up and dragging you kicking and screaming away from here and holding you hostage in The Pit until this is all over.” His eyes darted away from her for just a second. “But they won’t agree to that. But it’s fine, really,” he lay back, lacing his fingers behind his head and looking up at the ceiling. “I have back up plans to my back up plans when it comes to tomorrow. Really, dear, you shouldn’t worry. As long as you do as I say, everything will work itself out.”

“I hate you when you’re this way,” she spat out, feeling her throat tighten and swell with her anger, that annoying threat of tears to come burning her face and flushing it red.

He stiffened next to her, visibly stung by her words.

“You do not,” he said quietly.

“Why shouldn’t I?! The last time you talked to me like this you disappeared. My life, our life, was ruined and the only thing you told me before you did that to us was to listen to you!”

“That was not all I said to you that day.” He sat up again, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to the side of her head. She pulled away, just a little, but not enough to leave his embrace. “I know because I remember. I can recall every second I spent with you that morning. And this is nothing compared to that. This is easy compared to that, ma cher.”

“Nothing about this is easy,” she scooted away down the bed and turned to look at him. “You’re getting everything you want, aren’t you? Whatever benefits you got from your deal, your status, your power . . . me. You think everything we lost is worth it. There’s not a single fucking atom in your being that regrets for a second what you did to me, is there?”

He sat back, stunned and at a loss for words. Not even his smile could hide the pain her words had caused him and she couldn’t stand to see it. How dare he feel any kind of shock or indignation at her accusation when it was so painfully obvious? She watched him swallow, knowing he was fighting down a reaction to the hurt, and she turned away, afraid to see what would come next. If he cried in front of her again, like he had several weeks ago, like she knew he nearly had that morning, she would break.

Her thighs were still sticky from their lovemaking, her chest and shoulders still covered in dried streaks of blood from his bite mark, and it was suddenly too much. She needed to be clean, to remove any traces that just a few minutes prior to this conversation, they had been happy enough to lose themselves in their love for each other.

“Ma cher- ” she heard his broken voice say, felt the mattress shift behind her as if he was reaching for her, but she stood, pulling the blanket with her and wrapping her nude body with it, blocking her skin and her soul from his gaze as she stormed off into the bathroom, making sure to the slam the door hard behind her.

She wiped at herself with a damp washcloth, angrily swiping away the tears that blurred her vision as she did so. The bedroom on the other side of the door was quiet and she was relieved for once that he hadn’t chased after her.

Mina was just wringing out the excess water from another rag in the sink and bringing it to her neck and chest when his shadow appeared on the wall in front of her.

“Go away,” she hissed through her teeth, feeling her ears pin back against the top of her head.

She watched as its eyes darted to the door and it moved in that direction a few inches before pulling back to the wall beside the mirror, fixing its hard gaze back on her.

It was telling her to go back out there, that Alastor was hurting and needing her. She knew that, but shook her head in defiance.

“He’s not my problem right now,” she said dismissively, wiping away the blood across her chest.

Its expression turned instantly to that of fury, its toothy smile spreading in a way that looked more like it was stretching its mouth wide to devour her, and suddenly the lights in the bathroom shut off, bathing her in darkness.

Mina held her breath, knowing what would come next.

In a brightly lit room, Alastor’s shadow was at its weakest. It could only cast itself on two-dimensional objects, but in a dim room it could lift a hand out, capable of brushing its form against her flesh in a soft caress. It could even wrap its fingers around her enough to transport her somewhere. But in a completely blackened room such as this, it could become solid. It had often held her while she slept, wrapping its limbs around hers as real as Alastor’s own flesh, and she had even sworn a time or two that she could feel its breath against her skin.

Her heart pounded, a rushing of blood in her chest, a throbbing she could feel in the veins of her throat, a roaring she could hear in her ears. For the first time, she felt real, paralyzing fear of Alastor’s shadow, worried that it might lash out at her of its own accord for hurting its master.

The touch that reached for her face was gentle. Cool, slender fingers caressed her cheeks and thumbs brushed away the streaks of her tears, and something like a forehead pressed against her own. She closed her eyes in relief at the tender embrace and when she opened them again, the green glow of its eyes and smile illuminated the room just enough for her to take in the shape of it.

It looked identical to Alastor in way that truly took her breath away. Its features were exactly like his, down to the sharp angles of his cheek bones and the little points of his antlers and ears above.

She had only a moment to register how eerily identical it was to her husband before she lost herself in its glowing eyes, suddenly overcome with emotions that were not her own.

Pain.

She sucked in a breath as it hit her, the force and depth of the emotions that Alastor had been keeping at bay.

There was love for her, for his mother, for Niffty and Rosie, but above all, it was just various forms of pain. The pain of loss, a deep seeded insecurity, and a devasting amount of fear. Fear of losing more, of not being enough, of what he was without his power, of failing, and a desperate, driving need to push forward, to keep going in order to make it all go away, to be strong enough to be able to forever cling to the things that make it all worth it. A pain caused by a mix of all that fear and an incredible amount of loneliness. She could feel how much his heart ached for her to be near, how much it shattered him every time they fought. And something, a force that made him feel like he was being torn in two, that left what felt like a gaping hole in her heart, something that he was being pulled towards while also trying with all his might to cling to her . . .

The lights flicked back on and his shadow was gone, leaving her alone in the room and trying to catch her breath.

Mina covered her mouth to stop the sob that nearly screamed out of her. It wasn’t guilt or shame that coursed through her then, but an immense amount of gratitude and relief. She had needed to feel what Alastor was feeling, had needed confirmation that whatever his reasons were, he had been just as hurt by the last seven years as she had, and his shadow had known how to give that to her. Had been the only thing that could really show her that whatever had happened, whatever was going to happen, the last thing Alastor wanted was to lose her.

Fae had been wrong, they had both been wrong, when they had assumed Alastor was too arrogant to imagine her ever leaving him. When in fact, it was one of his biggest fears and not just since his return. The ability to feel how much he wanted her to be a part of his life, to know his thoughts and whims, and to be held back from that, to be forced to keep her at an arm’s reach when it came to everything his deal touched in their lives, was hurting him as much as it was hurting her. Maybe even more, because he could handle his own pain, but could barely even face the idea of causing her any.

Mina waited in the bathroom just long enough for her breathing to slow down and her racing heart to settle before she went back out into the bedroom, the washrags and comforter forgotten on the floor behind her.

Alastor was still sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with his head in his hands. She could see right away that he wasn’t in the thralls of another panic attack; his breathing was normal and he was quiet. He just looked exhausted and defeated, his ears drooping pathetically downwards and even his tail looked limp and small as it curled its short length towards the side.

He looked up at her as she approached and though she could see a subtle sheen of unshed tears in his eyes, his face was free of any telltale streaks, though his cheeks were flushed a little red from the effort of holding them back.

Still both completely nude, Mina unashamedly climbed into his lap, pulling his arms around her hips and hugging him to her and he willingly melted against her. She cradled his head, mindful of his antlers beneath her chin, and held his face to her breast. There was nothing sexual in their naked intimacy now, just a need to be as close to each other as possible.

“I love you,” she whispered to him, caressing one ear and placing a kiss to the very tip of it.

He shook his head, his antlers raking across her collarbone, and the fur of his ears tickling the bottom side of her chin.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, gripping her by the shoulder blades and holding her tightly to him.

“I know.”

He shook his head again.

“I can’t tell you. I keep trying, I keep trying so hard to tell you why everything is the way it is and it’s driving me insane. I get angry and then you get angry and I- ”

“Al’,” she said sternly and leaned away, tilting his chin up by her hand to make him look at her. “I know. I’m sorry, too.”

He stared up at her, those ruby eyes shining with hope and adoration for her, highlighted by his red tinted eyelids and heavy black eyebrows and lashes and she smiled down at him, thinking he really was incredibly pretty. Everything about him, from his looks, to his personality, to his mannerisms, were a very strange and conflicting mix of masculine and feminine and made him so very perfect for her.

“I love you,” he choked out, bringing her forehead back down to rest against his. “I don’t regret anything yet because I still do believe it’ll all be worth it in the end but that is only if I don’t lose you. If that happens, none of it will be worth it. I’ll regret every move I’ve made since the day I killed my father.”

She watched one solitary tear roll down his cheek and wiped it away and kissed his forehead. He chuckled, a bitter laugh lacking all humor, and the warmth of his breath ghosted against the skin of her neck.

“I’m too drunk for this,” he said and when she met his eyes against, she noticed the shaking of his pupils as he focused his sight on her and realized he was indeed still absolutely langered.

“You’ll never lose me,” she said, kissing him on the lips and then on the corner of one eye, feeling the dampness on his lashes and the salty taste of the one tear he had let fall. “Never ever. I promise.”

His head fell forward, back into her embrace, all of his energy having left him.

“Oh, my dear, take if from a deal maker,” he said, his voice becoming flat and dull. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Next Chapter ->

@inuhalfdemon @saccharine-nectarine @whoknowswhoiamtoday @redvexillum @visara-valentina @reath-solia

[allthesmutl0vers]

Entirely Forbidden and Completely Fucked. Wincest fanfic- Chapter Two

MDNI, 18+, NSFW

Pairing: Sam x Dean, Sam x Reader x Dean, Reader x John

Trigger Warnings: Graphic Wincest sex scene, implied feelings for John by the reader (no sex...yet)

Thank you so much for every like🫶 Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Chapter Two

Y/n

“Come on guys, up at ‘em,” John says, ripping open the curtains. I cover my eyes with my arm to block out the sudden intrusion of light. 

Was this guy raised in a fucking barn? Who wakes people up like that?

Sam groans in the next bed but gets up, and Dean gets up without a word. I sigh, rub the sleep from my eyes, and stretch my arms out in front of me. “I’m going to get coffee, and I expect everyone to be ready to go when I get back,” John says, grabbing his keys. “Don’t be a dick,” he says to Dean, pointing a finger at him before walking out the door. 

I stand up, pull my hair back into a messy ponytail, and put on my black, square-lens glasses. My eye contacts dried out, and I don’t have another pair, which reminds me that I need to get my prescription transferred to wherever John and them live. 

I grab the backpack that I grabbed from the car last night and pull out another pair of shorts, a T-shirt, socks and underwear. 

“Going somewhere?” Dean asks, finally acknowledging my existence. 

“Considering I’m holding clothes, I’m going to say ‘to shower,’” I quip. I’m not a morning person, and Dean doesn’t get to be a fucking asshole and expect me to be nice before I’ve had caffeine. 

Dean rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Sorry, princess. You’re going to have to wait. I always go first.” He says, walking past me to the bathroom. 

I clench my jaw and take a deep breath. I’m too tired for this shit right now.  “Whatever, go,” I wave my hand and set my clothes on the bed. 

“Don’t mind if I do,” Dean says with a mocking laugh and closes the door. 

I exhale deeply and rub my eyes under my glasses. I try to imagine what it must be like for him, going from not having or maybe even not knowing you have a half-sister to having her thrown at you. But at the same time, my Mom just fucking died. I don’t want to be here anymore than they don’t want me here. The only reason I am here is because I don’t turn eighteen for two months. But after that, I’m out of here.

“He’ll warm up. He just needs some time.” Sam says, putting a hand on my shoulder. 

I shrug. “It’s whatever. I’m going to smoke,” I respond, pulling my vape and dab pens from my bag and slipping on my Vans.

“Smoke like cigarettes?” Sam asks curiously. 

I stand up and face him, holding up my vape and dab pen. “No, smoke like a vape and some weed,” I flick them around in my finger and walk by him, opening the door. I turn around and look at him. “Wanna join?” I ask. 

Sam shakes his head, and the corner of his mouth lifts into a smile. “I’m good, maybe next time,” 

“Suit yourself,” I shrug and walk out of the hotel room and into the morning sun, closing the door behind me. I sit down on the steps and let out a sigh. 

Maybe I should just leave. I could say I’m going to the corner store for a vape and just take my shit with me. I have enough cash for a bus ticket wherever I want, and my inheritance will be mine once I turn eighteen. 

I think it over as I hit my vape and take a couple of hits off my dab pen. I have around two grand saved up from the job I had since mom never wanted me to spend my own money but to save it instead. I could definitely make it for two months if I stay in a cheap hotel and don’t go book or clothes shopping. I scoff to myself. 

Maybe just buy a couple of books to kill the time.

I sigh and decide that just leaving is my best option. Maybe I can’t go home, but I can stay in Washington, and that’s all I really want right now. I go to hit my vape again, and it’s dead. “Shit,” I mutter to myself and stand up. I groan in frustration.

I really don’t want to go back in there.

I weigh my options: either go to buy a new one or go back in to grab my backup. I don’t have my bags yet, so backup it is. I walk back to the hotel room and open the door, only to be staring right at an ass-naked Dean and a shirtless Sam. 

“Fuck!” Dean exclaims, covering himself up. “Would it kill you to fucking knock?” He asks me angrily. 

I look over at Sam, who is beet fucking red and throwing on a shirt. “Uh, I didn’t know I needed to,” I respond. 

“Well, get the fuck out,” Dean says as he marches over to me. He towers over me, not as much as Sam, but pretty damn close. 

“Last time I checked, I’m staying here too, asshole,” I push past him and grab my clothes and walk to the bathroom. I close the door and lean against it, the steam in the air warming up my skin. 

I thought Dean was showering. So why is Sam’s hair wet, too? What the actual fuck did I just walk into? Or, almost walk into? Were they…no. No, no fucking way. I’m just tired, that’s all. 

I’m not thinking straight. 

No fucking kidding. 

I hurry up and take my shower, being as quick as I can. Just as I turn the water off and step out I hear John’s voice. “Where’s y/n?” He asks. 

“Shower,” that’s Sam’s voice. 

I quickly get dressed so I don’t keep them waiting. I need enough time to give them my excuse and grab my bags before they realize I’m gone. I curse myself for spending precious seconds wondering why Dean and Sam’s hair was wet at the same time, which was fucking stupid. Men shower faster than women, and I was outside for at least fifteen minutes. They probably showered one after the other. They must have. 

A knock sounds on the door. “Chop, chop, kid. Time to get a move on,” John says from the other side. 

“Coming,” I respond, opening the door and putting my glasses back on. “I need to run to the corner store. What time were you planning on heading out?” I ask John as I grab my bag.

“Right now. We can stop on the way out of town,” he says, handing me a coffee and pulling his keys back out of his pocket. 

Goddamnit. There goes my shot to do it now.

“Oh, so you’ll stop for her but not us?” Dean remarks, slinging his bag over his shoulder. 

“Shut up and load the damn car, Dean,” John says, tossing Dean his keys. “We have a long drive back to Kansas, and there will be other opportunities to stop. So quit your bitching.”

Hold up, did he just say Kansas?

“Need me to carry your bag?” Sam asks me, pulling me from my thoughts on improvising another way away from them. 

“Huh? Oh, no, I’m good. Thank though,” I smile softly and walk past him and John and out the door. 

I throw my backpack in the back seat, pull out my dab pen, take another big hit, and bend over, coughing hard. I don’t know when we’ll be stopping next and I don’t think John would want me smoking in the car, so I want to make it count. 

“You good?” Dean asks, standing next to me by the passenger front door. 

“I,” I cough again. “I’m fine. What do you care?” I ask, blinking away the tears from coughing so hard. 

“I don’t,” Dean shrugs. “Just don’t feel like burying a body today.” He says cooly.

What the fuck?

“Very funny, Dean,” I roll my eyes and take another hit, my head already feeling lighter. 

“I wasn’t joking. I’m not in the mood for it today. What are you even smoking anyway?” He asks, pointing to my dab pen in my hand.

I blow the smoke in his face. “You tell me,” I quip with a smirk before coughing again, this time not as bad. 

“Smells like weed, but not?” Dean guesses. 

“Wow, really perspective,” I say sarcastically. “It’s a dab pen.”

“Dab pen?” Dean asks curiously, sipping his coffee. “What is that? Some kind of new weed or something?”

“It’s weed; it's just processed into an oil, which is what’s in here,” I explain, pointing to the oil in the tank. “It makes it more discrete, the smell isn’t as strong, and I don’t have to whip out a bong and spend twenty minutes finding a lighter. Plus, it’s more potent.” I explain. 

Dean pokes out his bottom lip and nods in interest. “Hm, alright then.”I nod, pull out my backup vape, and take a hit off of that as well. “And what’s that?” he asks.

“It’s a nicotine vape. I hate the smell and taste of cigarettes.” 

Dean actually laughs. “Same here,” he says, looking over his shoulder back at the hotel room. “Look,” he says, facing me again. “I’m sorry about yesterday, I shouldn’t have been such a dick.”

“I get it,” I shrug. “John said you’re a little standoffish.”

“You say John a lot,” he says curiously. “He’s your dad too, isn’t he?”

“Depends on your definition of ‘dad,’” I tell him as I lean against the Impala. “Biologically, yeah, he is. But other than that, he’s just a guy who randomly came around once or twice a year when he had ‘business in town,’” I air quote with my fingers. 

Dean nods, and his jaw ticks again. “Do you know what that business was?” he asks. 

I shake my head. “Didn’t bother to ask, and he didn’t bother to explain.” 

Dean nods again. “Well, look,” he sighs and scratches his head. “I’ve never had a sister before. It’s only ever been me and Sammy, so…” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t be around that long,” I look over the car into the distance. 

“Oh, um, okay,” Dean says with a hint of surprise in his voice. 

“Alright, let's roll,” John says as he and Sam approach the car.

We all climb in, me and Sam in the back and Dean up front with John. 

I wonder if I can get a map of bus routes along the way.

Sam

This morning was too close a call. Me and Dean know how long Dad takes to get coffee, but I got so caught up in the heat of the moment, that I completely forgot she was there when I went to shower with Dean. It was worth every second of it, though, and I can’t bring myself to regret it. 

Having her here has brought up feelings that I wasn’t prepared for. When she walked through the door with Dad… Fuck, I haven’t looked at anyone like that besides Dean in so long. My dick was entirely confused. And I can’t help then whenever Dad mentions that she’s our sister, half or full, it doesn’t matter. My dick swells in my jeans. 

I shouldn’t want her this way. 

To be fair, I shouldn’t want Dean this way, either, but I do. I can still remember the day the dam finally broke between us. We were at Bobby’s two years ago, and Dad had dropped us up for a week. 

“Hey,” I greet Dean, opening the door to the garage. He’s pissed that Dad left us here. He said he had business to take of in Washington and that we had to stay here.

Dean looks up from the car he’s taking apart. “Hey, Sammy,” he says, leaning back over the open hood. His shirt is tucked into his back pocket, and sweat drips down his chiseled chest. I’ve never been so nervous in my life, but this is Dean. If I can tell anyone anything, it’s Dean.

It’s always been Dean.

I clear my throat and step closer, tucking my hands into the front pockets of my jeans. “So, um, I want to talk to you about something,” I start to say, but when he looks up at me with that smoldering gaze, the words escape my mind. 

Dean looks me up and down, wiping his hands on the shirt in his back pocket, and stands up straight. “What?” he asks.

It shouldn’t be this hard, but my hands shake, and the cut on my abdomen stings. I bite the corner of my lower lip. Should I just come out and say it? 

Dean walks closer, noticing my nervousness. “How’s your cut?” he asks, reaching for the end of my shirt. 

“It’s,” I clear my throat. “It’s okay,” I lie. It hurts like a bitch, but I won’t admit it.

Dean lifts my shirt, revealing the cut that he mended last night. “I thought we agreed to never lie to each other Sammy,” he says without looking at me. His fingers graze the gauze taped over the wound.

My skin heats at his touch, taking my mind off of the sting. “We did,” I agree, watching as his gaze moves from my wound and up to my eyes and his eyebrows furrow. I take a deep breath, and Dean watches as my jaw ticks. “But we’ve both been lying for a long time,” I tell him, hoping he’ll know what I mean. 

Dean sucks in a breath, and I know he gets what I mean. Of course he does, he always knows what I’m thinking, as do I for him. Dean backs up and shakes his head slightly. “We can’t go there, Sammy. Once we do, there’s no going back.” He says with a disappointed sigh. 

“Who said anything about going back?” I ask. My heart races in my chest, and my hands shake when I pull them out of my pockets. 

“Sammy,” Dean says like a warning. I watch his chest rise and fall heavily. I know he wants this too, if only he’d just admit it. 

“I’m tired of denying it, Dean. I want you. Only you, all the time,” I admit. “In bed, in the shower, any and everywhere. Stop being so stubborn it’s-”

Dean cuts me off, grabbing my face with his hands and pressing his lips to mine. My lips melt into his, and everything we’ve never said aloud is poured into the kiss. My hands grip the waistband of Dean’s pants and pull him closer. 

Dean’s tongue dips out, licking between my lips and begging for access. I open my mouth and allow him inside, and his tongue licks the roof of my mouth and my tongue making my cock strain against the inside of my jeans. I suck on his tongue and bite it softly, dragging it between my teeth and making Dean groan. 

 Dean pulls back, and we each suck in a desperately needed breath. Our foreheads are pressed together as we share breaths back and forth. “We should stop,” Dean says softly. 

“We definitely should,” I respond, but neither of us steps back. 

“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean mutters, his hands slide from my face to my neck, slide up the back and into my hair, gripping it in his fingers. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Show me,” I lean down and kiss his neck right behind the shell of his ear. 

Dean groans and tilts his head to give me more access. I bite the sensitive skin behind his ear before sucking. Dean’s fingers grip my hair, making me hiss in pleasure. “Fuck it,” he groans and pulls back out of my grasp. 

Dean rips down his pants and boxers, and my mouth waters at the sight, just like it always has. We’ve showered and slept in the bed together. I’ve seen his cock before, but knowing I get it this time makes pre-cum drip from my tip as I pull my pants down. 

Dean kicks his pants to the side and stalks toward me. He grabs my cock in his hand and kisses me in one fluid motion. I moan into the kiss and pump his cock in time as he pumps mine, rubbing his thumb over my tip, coating my cock with my pre-cum. 

Dean pulls back and spins me around, pushing my chest against the side of the car he was working on. “Pass me that jar, Sammy,” he demands gruffly. 

I pass him the jar of coconut oil and rub my cock as I feel Dean’s lubed fingers rub my ass, pushing in and scissoring his fingers to open me up. “Fuck, Dean,” I groan, my balls tightening and threatening to burst. 

“You like that?” He asks, biting my shoulder harshly and making me hiss as his teeth pierce the skin.

“Fuck, yes,” I moan, my eyes hooding. His fingers leave my ass, and I feel the head of his cock  press up against my tight ass. My fingers grasp for hold on the top of the car, and my head falls back as Dean pushes himself inside deeper. “God,” I moan.

Dean grips my hips and thrusts in fully. “Don’t pray to him, little brother. He’s nowhere near here,” Dean groans, pulling back and thrusting in hard with a moan. “Pray to me, I’m the one fucking you.”

I moan as Dean pulls back and thrusts in again faster. Dean grips my hair and pulls, making my eyes roll into the back of my head. “Fuck, yes, Dean,” I moan between heavy breaths. 

Dean continues to fuck me like a man possessed, his cock hitting a g-spot I didn’t know I had inside of my ass. “Damn, Sammy, Fuck… I’m gonna cum.” Dean moans as I feel his cock swell inside of my ass. 

“Fuck, me too, Dean,” I moan, my balls tightening impossibly tight. I wrap my hand around my cock and pump it with my hand, matching Dean’s harsh thrusts. After a few more thrusts, I feel Dean’s cum fill me as mine paints my hand and the side of the car, our breathing heavy and staggered as he pulls out and spins me around, kissing me again. This kiss isn’t heated. It’s soft and gentle. 

“No going back,” Dean says like a promise, holding my gaze with hooded eyes. 

“No going back,” I agree with a smile. 

I adjust myself and clear my throat. The memory makes my cock swell in my jeans. Y/n looks over at me, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. I smile at her with pursed lips, and she rolls her eyes and looks back out of the window. 

I take a moment to take her in. Her bare legs under her short ripped denim shorts, the black band T-shirt with ‘A Day To Remember’ written across the front. Fuck, she looks so good with glasses too. The black-rimmed ‘nerd glasses’ really do something to me, along with her long, almost black hair that reaches her waist. The perfect length to grab and hold tight as you plow into her. 

God, now I’m hard again. 

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out and see a text from Dean.

Dean: What are you looking at?

Me: Nothing.

Dean: Bullshit. Why are you staring at her?

Jealous much?

I chuckle silently and text back.

Me: Who do you think?

Dean: Not me, and that pisses me off. Stop it.

Me: Jealous?

Dean: Hardly. 

Me: Don’t act like she’s not hot. She’s exactly your type.

Dean: She’s our sister.

Me: Half-sister. And you’re my brother. That didn’t stop you this morning. 

Dean lets out an annoyed sigh in the seat in front of me. 

Dean: Point made. So, what? Do you wanna bring her into this? That’ll go over well. 

Me: I’m just saying it’s an option. 

Dean: She’s leaving soon anyway. Don’t bother.

I stare at my phone, confused. What does he mean? She’s ours now, that’s why Dad went to get her.

Me: What are you talking about? She just got here.

Dean: And she doesn’t want to stay. She told me this morning, so leave her out of it. 

Me: She can’t. She’s not even eighteen yet.

Dean: She will be in 2 months, that’s when she’s leaving. 

Me: That’ll go over well with Dad. 

Dean: What does? Stop texting me. Dad keeps looking at us. We’ll talk about it later.

I look up and see Dad looking at me in the rearview mirror with narrowed eyes. He doesn’t know about me and Dean, obviously, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t suspect anything. Especially when Dean fought going with him to pick up y/n because he ‘needed to stay and protect me.’ I look away from the rearview mirror and look out the window. I don’t want y/n to leave, but I don’t know if I can trust her yet, either. 

What a fucking mess.

Y/n

We finally pull into another hotel somewhere on the boarder of Wyoming and Colorado. I get out and stretch while John goes to get a room. I grab my backpack from the backseat and close the door. 

“So,” Sam clears his throat, talking to me. “Long car ride,” he says awkwardly. 

I purse my lips into a smile and nod. “Yeah, he doesn’t like to stop, does he?” I ask jokingly. 

Sam laughs as Dean gets out of the car, too. “No, not really.”

“He would’ve just kept going if you weren’t here,” Dean says, stretching his arms over his head. 

“Oh,” I respond, trying to ignore the dig at my presence. “Sorry.”

Dean shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. He’s just trying to make sure you’re comfortable. I don’t mind stopping,” Dean smirks. 

I nod and pull out my vape, taking a drag off of it and blowing the vapor into the air above me. “Think he’ll be able to get one with three beds this time?” I ask Sam and Dean. 

They both laugh and shake their heads. “Not likely. But he’ll probably take the couch again,” Sam responds. 

John comes back with the key, and we all carry our bags to the room. I put my bags by the bed furthest from the door and sit down on the edge. Sam and Dean put their bags on either side of the other bed in the room. 

“I’m going to get burgers,” John announces as he sets his bag on the other side of my bed. “Do you want to come with me?” he asks me as he hands Sam and Dean a second copy of the hotel key. 

I’m not sure if I want to leave or not, and I don’t know how to tell him. 

“She can stay here,” Dean says flatly. “We should probably have the talk with her anyway,” Dean says to John with a serious and mysterious tone of voice. 

John narrows his eyes at Dean and nods before turning back to me. “Stay in the room unless one of them goes with you. I’ll be back,” is all he says before walking out of the hotel room and closing the door behind him. 

“What talk?” I ask, looking over at Sam and Dean. 

They look at each other and then back to me. “You said you don’t know what business Dad is in, right?” Sam asks. 

“Yeah, no clue. Is he in like the mob or something?” I ask jokingly. 

“No, he’s a hunter,” Dean responds, clearing his throat. “All of those things you read about in fairy tales growing up are real,” Dean explains. 

I blink a few times, wondering if he’s fucking with me. He has to be. “Right,” I drawl out. “Next, you’re going to tell me you just live in a dragon-guarded castle,” I joke back with a small laugh.

“Not a castle, a bunker,” Sam corrects.

“And it’s not guarded by a dragon, but it is warded,” Dean adds. 

I can’t help but laugh at their serious faces. The first I’ve laughed since I lost Mom. Sam and Dean look at me like I’m crazy, and Dean rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry,” I laugh. “I’m sorry, it’s just,” I chuckle, my laugh dying down. “You can’t be serious.”

Dean stands up and grabs something from John’s bag and sits down next to me. “See for yourself,” he says, handing me a leather-back journal. I look at him with a raised eyebrow, and he nods to the journal in my hands. “Open it, it’s dad’s, you can look at it,” he says seriously. 

I open the journal, and I can’t believe my eyes as I turn the pages. There are what look like entries with names, dates, places, and all different kinds of creatures. “All of this is real?” I ask as I skim the pages.

Sam sits down on my other side. “Yeah. This is what we do. We travel around the country and hunt these things,” Sam explains. 

I look up at Sam, the journal resting open on my lap. “How do you know where they are or what they are?” I ask curiously.

Dean takes the journal from my hands and flips through it before finding the page he wants and shows me. “This is the newspaper article,” he says, pointing to a clipping that’s paperclipped to the side of the page. “It talks about people going on a killing spree, in this case, killing their entire family. Only to disappear and never be seen again,” Dean explains the article to me. 

“But that happens sometimes, doesn’t it? I mean, there’s serial killers and family annihilators in prison for the same thing,” I mention as he flips the article to show the entry underneath.

Dean nods. “Yes, there are. But in this town, it happened to three separate families. That’s what makes it our kind of case,” Dean explains. 

“So, what kind of monster is that then? A vampire?” I ask.

“Shape-shifter,” Sam corrects on my other side. “Vampires can’t come out in the daytime; they’ll burn.”

I nod and look back at the journal. “And that’s a shape-shifter?” I ask, pointing to a still photo of a man, his eyes glowing. 

“Yes,” Dean answers. “See how his eyes glow in the picture? That’s how you can tell.”

“So, what does it look like? Like, not in a human?” I ask.

“Nobody knows. Nobody has seen one in its own skin and lived to talk about it,” Dean responds.

“This is freaky,” I murmur, shaking my head. “So you guys kill these things?” I ask them both.

“Sometimes, but they’re pretty rare, actually. Our biggest problems are usually vampires, werewolves, and demons. And a few ghosts,” Sam explains calmly. 

“Did you say…demons?” I ask, confused. “Like wings and shit like that?” 

Sam and Dean chuckle and shake their heads. “No, they look like regular people because they possess their bodies,” Sam explains. 

“I’m sorry, did you just say they possess people?” I ask, shocked. “Like, they just walk around and act like regular people?” 

“Not exactly. There are different kinds. Some are relatively harmless, just happy to be out of Hell. Some make deals with people, and those are called crossroads demons. Stay away from them,” Dean explains. 

I shake my head as I try to wrap my mind around what they’re telling me. “So you mean to tell me that vampires, werewolves, shape-shifters, demons, all of those are real?” I ask, looking down at the floor. 

“There’s more-”

I cut Dean off. “There’s MORE?!” I practically scream. 

“Calm down, you’re safe with us. Yes, there are more things out there, and you’ll learn about all of them and how to keep yourself safe. We’ll teach you, and Dad will too,” Sam assures me, placing a hand gently on my back and rubbing small circles. 

“This is crazy,” I shake my head. The room suddenly feels too small, and I need to get out. I stand up and grab my vape.

“Where are you going?” Dean asks, standing up too. 

“I need some air,” I shake my head. As I walk toward the door, it opens, and I jump nearly out of my skin. 

“Looks like someone took it well,” John says, walking in and placing the food down on the table. “Knew that  I should’ve done it myself,” he shakes his head and walks over to me. “You alright?” he asks, placing his hands on my shoulders. 

I nod once. “I’m fine. I just need some air,” I mutter. 

“I’ll come with you. It’s dark out,” John says, looking over my shoulder at Sam and Dean. “Food’s on the table; we’ll be back,” he says to them. He puts an arm over my shoulders and walks outside with me. We take a seat on the steps, looking out over the empty parking lot. “It’s a lot to take in when you first learn about it,” John says softly as I hit my vape. 

“How did you find out about it?” I ask, not looking at him. I can tell I struck a cord asking when he sucks in a deep breath and lets it out in a huff. 

“After my wife died,” he says softly. I turn to look up at him, feeling sorry for him. I can’t imagine what that’s like. “She died when Sammy was just a baby, and Dean was about four. A demon killed her,” John explains sadly. 

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, wishing I hadn’t asked. 

John takes a breath and sighs. “Thank you, y/n. I loved your mom, too. Sheila was…” he looks out over the parking lot. “Special.”

“Yeah, she was,” I agree, fighting back the tears at the fact I’ll never get to talk to her again. I sniffle, and John wraps an arm around me and hugs me to his side. 

“Cry if you need to, honey, it’s okay,” he assures me, and that itself breaks the dam. The tears fall down my cheeks, and I lean into him for support. John hugs me and shushes me gently. He doesn’t tell me it’s going to be okay, and he doesn’t tell me it’s going to get better or easier; he’s just there. And for the first time in my life, I’m thankful he is. 

After I’m finished crying, John stands up and gives me a big bear hug. We go inside and eat dinner, and for the first time everyone is civil and even joking around. When it comes time to go to bed, I change into my pajamas and climb into the hotel bed. John offers to sleep on the couch, but I tell him that he can share the bed with me. He’s my dad, after all and I feel bad that he slept on a too-small couch last night. John gets under the covers with me, and as soon as my head hits the pillow, I’m out. Who knew crying could make a person so tired?

Chapter Three

[lucidlivi]

Chosen For Pleasure (XIV)

Series Masterlist/Warnings

Tag List: @ladysparkles78 @suckitands33 @little-x-wolf @stoneyggirl2 @creative-writing92 @jc-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester @lessons-of-red @jamerlynn @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67 @deans-baby-momma @willow-sages @ritz-hell-hotel @perpetualabsurdity @mhessellund @itzabbyxx @chriszgirl92 @abbybarnesstuff @larrem88 @commonsenseishard @impalaspixie @notsogoofyjelly @hzllxhoundxx @taylortots-world @k-slla @heavenlyackles @spnfamily-j2 @buckybarnes-1917 @foxyjwls007 @spnbaby-67 @readingsins @lauraashley93 @antisocialcorrupt @anixiiee @jackles010378 @alternativeprincess @rosecentury @lelilw1 @cevansbaby-dove @cutedisneygrl @djs8891 @bakugouswh0r3 (thank you to everyone who's been here since the beginning, thank you for always hyping me up and for loving this story! If you want to be added please let me know! It's only going to be a few more parts, so get in while you can!)

I hid a quote in here from one of my favorite tv shows, besides supernatural of course... see if you can catch it! If you can, let's be best friends!

gun violence and mental illness talk at the end of this chapter, please read with caution if it is triggering to you in any way.... if you are struggling with mental health, please reach out! I love you and I'm happy you're here!

"is this really necessary?" I asked Jensen, my eyes befalling the large man in a suit standing next to him.

"yes, until they catch Riley, I'm not risking your safety... besides Mark's a professional, he knows how to be discreet, you won't even know he's around." Jensen said kissing my cheek.

I highly doubt that.

A big burley security man following my every movement.... yeah they'll never see him coming.

I sighed deeply, knowing I'd never be able to talk Jensen out of it.

I stood on my tippy toes connecting his lips with mine. It was a short brief kiss, but it was all I needed to get my heart racing.

"I should go, don't want to be late for my first day as Chief Editor." I said leaning in to Jensen's warm embrace.

"I'll pick you up after work, we have some things to discuss."

"things to discuss, what sort of things?"

"you never answered my question." Jensen smirks knowingly before departing.

It's been a hectic few days, my mind has been on overload. I'm lucky I even remembered to put pants on today. Of course I haven't been able to think about Jensen's proposition of moving in with him yet. I definitely needed to talk to Stella first.

"Mark." I said nodding my head at the tall man.

Mark starts to follow me in to the building quietly.

"who's the big dude?" Stella says as soon as we get inside.

I let out a sigh, so much for being discreet.

I roll my eyes as my coworkers glance at Mark, who's right on my tail.

"Mark.." I answer shrugging my shoulders.

I walked past everyone, going to my new office. I was surprised to see it was completely different than the last time I had been in here.

"I uh redecorated, I thought it would help ya know, so you didn't think about it." Stella said from the doorway.

I looked around the spacious office, every trace of Gray had been erased.

"I love you Stell." I said, a tear in my eye.

I engulfed my best friend in a hug. We stood in each other’s embrace, smiling.

"Sooo do I have to call you Ms. (L/N) now?"

"Oh god please don’t!" I laughed.

I took a deep breath, a comfortable silence fell between us.

"this is crazy right, I mean your life has done a complete three sixty."

I let Stella's words sink in, she was completely right. A few months ago if you'd told me this would be my life, I would've laughed in your face.

"it totally has... sometimes I don't even know how to keep up." I admitted glancing at Mark who stood outside my office like a soldier.

"okay what's up with Mark?" Stella giggled looking at the large man.

"I'm afraid Jensen insists, just until they catch Riley."

"ah yes, the crazy."

"Stella, she's not crazy, she's mentally ill."

I could see Stella noticeably roll her eyes.

"why are you defending her, she literally wants to hurt you (y/n/n)!"

I chewed on my bottom lip nervously as her words sunk in.

I didn't know what Riley's intentions were, but from the damage done to my car, I gathered that we wouldn't be talking over a cup of coffee anytime soon.

"I’m sorry, I know things have been crazy for you, and I just want you to know that I'm here, to listen, to talk, to eat our feelings away with chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream... whatever you need." Stella said giving me a warm smile.

"Jensen asked me to move in with him." I blurted out, the thought weighing heavily on my mind.

"oh my gosh, that's great!" Stella squealed.

"it is?" I question, surprised by her reaction.

"it is if that's what you want?" Stella questions.

I look at the pretty brunette sitting in front of me. I didn't know what I did to deserve her friendship some days.

"I really love him Stella." I whispered.

"then you should do it."

"but I'll miss you.."

"please, you can't get rid of me that easily.."

I engulfed my friend in another hug, squeezing her tightly.

"am I interrupting something?"

I let go of Stella to see David, the owner of the magazine standing in the doorway.

"no, I’m sorry sir." I said smiling.

"just wanted to see how you were settling in, and ask if you made any progress on finding me some new voices?"

I smiled widely at Stella.

"yes sir, in fact this is one right here! Stella is the best journalist we have." I said pushing Stella forward.

Stella nervously smiled at him.

"Stella is it, well why don't we go have a talk then?" David said reaching out a hand for her to shake.

I beamed with pride as I watched them leave the office to settle in the conference room.

I could never repay Stella for how much she does for me, but this was a start.

I heard the office phone start to ring, snapping me out of my daze.

"Ms. (L/N)" I answered.

I heard Jensen chuckle on the other end.

"Ms. (L/N), sounds incredibly sexy when you say it." Jensen purred.

"oh please, I thought I was going to come undone, the first day you said my name." I shot back.

"I was just calling to see how your first day as chief editor is going?"

I felt the smile grace my face.

"good actually, it's kind of making me nervous.." I said picking my nails.

"why is it making you nervous?"

"have you ever heard the term regression to the mean?"

"no.." Jensen said sounding confused.

“It means that life can’t ever be all bad or all good. You know, eventually, things have to come back to the middle.”

"I'm not understanding baby."

"I mean that everything's been okay lately, you know, we're okay, the jobs okay, Stella and I are okay.. the middle."

"so you mean things are about to get really good.." Jensen started

"or really bad." I finished cutting him off.

"sweetheart I think this whole Riley thing has you worked up, everything will be fine, okay, nothing is going to happen." Jensen reassured.

He was probably right. I mean this whole Riley situation did have me pretty worked up.

I just felt it was something more though, like there was something looming over us and I just couldn't figure out what it was.

It could've been my conversation with Elle too. I couldn't get her words out of my head... I just want to know who my competition is.

What did that even mean?

Was she going to try to steal Jensen away from me?

I guess it would be steal Jensen back, considering she had him first.

I didn't realize how quiet I was until I heard Jensen's smooth voice through the speaker.

"baby talk to me, what's going through your mind?"

"I think you're right, I'm just a little overwhelmed, I guess Mark wasn't such a bad thing." I said staring at the man who hasn't moved from the entrance of my office.

"see I told you..." Jensen said in a teasing tone.

"I don't have to take him everywhere do I? He's not coming home with me!"

I heard Jensen's hearty laugh boom through the speaker.

"he's definitely NOT going home with you.. he's just for when I can't be with you to protect you."

"my hero.." I swooned.

Jensen laughed again.

"I miss you already." I whispered.

"oh god I sound so needy." I added quickly.

"I miss you too.."

"so I uh talked to Stella about your proposition." I said biting my thumb nail.

"oh yeah? and how did that go?"

"good.." I answered being vague in my answer purposely.

"and do you have an answer for me?"

"yeah..." I whispered not being able to fight the smile on my face.

"well get on with it then, c'mon woman you're killing me here." Jensen whined.

"I mean, I'll have to get some things from the apartment." I said.

"so that's a yes?"

"yes Jensen, I'll move in with you."

****************************************************

"Are you going home? I'm going to grab some things and stay at Jensen's tonight." I told Stella as we gathered our things, the end of our day approaching.

"No, Matt's taking me out to dinner to celebrate my new promotion, thanks for that by the way! I can't believe I'm the new lead journalist!" Stella squealed making me smile.

"I didn't do anything, that was all you."

"Still, I couldn't have gotten it without you putting in a word to David for me."

"It's the least I could do, you do so much for me."

Stella wrapped her arms around me squeezing me tightly for the third time this day.

I've been so caught up in all things Jensen that I realized I really missed my friend, and I was so lucky to have her in my corner.

"woah, that's my woman."

Stella let go, throwing a look to Jensen who now stood in the doorway to my office. I didn’t see Mark anymore, Jensen must have dismissed him.

"nice office..." Jensen admired.

"I redecorated, thank you very much." Stella piped up.

"so when I need any redecorating done, I'll know who to call." Jensen smirked.

Stella glanced at her phone quickly before meeting my eyes again.

"I think Matt's here, I'll see you soon.." Stella said squeezing my hand before going over to Jensen.

"Jensen, take care of her... if you don't I'll chop your dick off." Stella threatened.

"Stella!" I exclaimed mortified.

Jensen just laughed in response.

"You have my word Stella, I mean I would kind of like to keep my dick." Jensen said making me roll my eyes at the pair.

"see you tomorrow." Stella said with a final wave.

Jensen smiled at her shaking his head. He came over to me wrapping me in a hug.

“she’s something..” Jensen laughed.

“you have no idea… are you ready to go home?” I asked cocking my eyebrow.

“as long as I’m with you I am home.” Jensen said.

I rolled my eyes at his line.

“that was incredibly cheesy.” I laughed.

“I thought it was romantic… even a little bit?” Jensen pouted.

“okay just a little bit.”

Jensen smiled, leaning down to pull me in for a kiss. I took a shaky breath as he connected our lips. I felt electricity pulsating through my skin as his lips moved on mine.

“I love you.” He said as he pulled away.

“I love you more.” I whispered.

Jensen gave me another quick peck.

“Impossible.”

Jensen grabbed my bag with one hand, grasping mine with other, as he led us out of the office. Cole stood by the car waiting with an open door.

“Ms. (L/N).” Cole nodded as I slid in.

“You really need to give him a break..” I said laughing at Jensen.

“Cole doesn’t need a break, do ya Cole?”

“no Mr. Ackles.”

“Cole you can be honest I know this one’s a lot to deal with.” I said smacking Jensen’s chest playfully.

“between you and me ma’am.” Cole started giving Jensen a smirk.

I laughed at Jensen’s flustered expression.

Cole pulled up to our apartment, quickly getting out so he could open my door. Jensen shuffled out after me. As soon as we stepped out of the car, his phone started ringing. He pulled it out checking the caller ID.

“It’s Jared.”

“you can take it.. I’m just going to grab some toiletries and a couple outfits, I’ll be right back.” I said kissing his cheek.

Jensen offered me a grateful smile as he answered his phone.

I unlocked the door, before grabbing our mail and going inside. I would have to remember to reroute my mail to the new address. I threw the mail on the counter, wanting to pack my things before I went through it.

I grabbed my overnight bag throwing articles of clothing in it before going to our bathroom. I made sure to grab my toothbrush, hairbrush and the other essentials. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror breathing a deep sigh.

I was really doing this.

I threw the rest of my stuff in my bag, zipping it up and walking back in to the kitchen. I set my bag down grabbing the mail to sift through it.

I turned around, feeling my blood run cold.

It was her.

Riley.

I gasped at the sight of her dropping the mail.

I didn’t know how she got in, the door was still locked.

I could see from the look on her face that she was distressed. I was afraid, but I wouldn’t let her see. I needed to remain calm.

“Riley… uh Jensen’s right outside, we could go see him.” I hesitantly said, holding my hands out so she could see I meant her no harm.

I shuddered as she pulled a gun from her pocket.

“I came to see you.”

I shivered, her voice was haunting, like she was in grave pain. I didn’t take my eyes off the gun she held to her side.

“okay..” I breathed.

“Jensen told me what happened Riley, I know you’re in a lot of pain, and I’m so sorry.. Jensen talks about you still, he cares about you.” I said trying to diffuse the situation.

I flinched as a warning shot rang out. I could feel the breath getting caught in my chest as I feared for my life.

“DON’T LIE!” Riley yelled, bringing the gun up so it was now pointed directly at me.

“just tell me what you have that I don’t.” she cried.

“nothing Riley, I’m nothing.” I pleaded.

“but he kisses you, and sleeps in your bed.” Riley said.

I felt the color drain from my face.

“how do you know that?”

“I saw you, I watched you… I know you love him but I do too.” Riley said eerily calm.

I thought back to the night when Jensen slept over. I thought I had seen someone but chalked it up to my imagination playing tricks on me… but now I know it was her watching us.

“Riley why don’t you put the gun down.” I begged trying to maintain my composure.

“you don’t even know him, what he likes, you don’t give him what he wants, he’s just pretending with you and he’ll get tired of pretending!” Riley growled.

Suddenly Jensen burst in the door followed by Cole.

Riley didn’t move the gun from me.

I could see the fear in Jensen’s eyes as he glanced at me.

“Riley..”

Jensen pointed at himself, asking Riley to turn the gun on him. Riley glanced between me and Jensen before turning the gun his way.

“Jensen don’t.” I cried, letting a few tears slip out.

Jensen held his hand out quieting me.

“I know you don’t want to hurt me Riley.” Jensen said, taking a step closer to her.

Riley breathed a heavy sigh as Jensen reached out wrapping his hand around the barrel of the gun. He yanked it out of her hands, switching the safety on, and putting it in his pocket.

“come here.” Jensen said reaching his arms out.

Riley collapsed in his arms crying. Jensen held her stroking her hair.

“Cole get (y/n) out of here, take her back home.” Jensen said.

Cole took a step towards me, but I took a step back.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I said not wanting to leave Jensen alone.

“(y/n) for once just do what I ask!” Jensen snapped.

I felt the tears roll down my cheeks as I grabbed Cole’s hand allowing him to lead me outside to the car. He opened the door gesturing for me to get in.

I dropped his hand stepping away from the car. I gave Cole a look, and started to walk down the street.

“Ms. (L/N) please.”

“stop it Cole.” I growled walking away.

I didn’t know where I was going, I just had to get away. I felt the tears staining my cheeks as I walked.

It was too much.

It was all too much.

for once just do what I ask..

he’s just pretending with you, and he’ll get tired of pretending..

I covered my ears trying to drown out the loud voices that were screaming at me.

I collapsed on the sidewalk, bringing my knees to my chest and sobbing.

this is what I meant.

regression to the mean..

Author Note:

I’m sorry for breaking your hearts again! Part fifteen will reveal a lot, so make sure you stick around to find out! If you liked this part please indicate so with a heart, comment, reblog, or a follow! It really is motivating! I appreciate you all!

xoxoxo

Liv

[starfall-spirit]

Precious Collateral

Read on Ao3 // Fic Masterlist // SJM Omegaverse Masterlist // Dark Feysand Masterlist

Summary: When Rhys set out to collect his dues from the head of the Archeron house, he knew the man would be begging for more time. What he didn’t expect was to be offered the youngest daughter as collateral.

After spending only a day in the temperamental woman’s company, he found himself utterly enthralled with his new guest—and with no intention of letting her father scrape together the funds that would grant her her freedom.

AN: This is going to be the darkest fic I've written so far. Definitely bringing in heavier themes than my CoN!Feysand fics have. The first chapter is short and free of any trigger warnings, but I want to give a list up front of what I have tagged so far on Ao3 for future chapters.

TW/CW: Rape/Non-Con, Underage, Extremely Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Bondage, Spanking, Orgasm Denial, Dark!Rhys, Breeding Kink, Praise Kink, Dom/Sub Undertones, Power Imbalance, Daddy Kink

That said, enjoy the intro chapter!

Chapter I

Rhysand

“I have tried, I swear. Please, I have nothing to give. If I had more time…”

“I’ve given you time,” Rhys drawled, leaning back in the chair he was offered. “Months beyond the timeframe we agreed on, in fact. And still have nothing to show for it, Archeron. I believe I made the consequences of that quite clear during our original meeting.”

“Y-yes. You did. I haven’t forgotten. I only hoped if I offered you a new deal for the time being you may accept.” He kept his eyes cast down slightly, looking every bit the beta begging to keep his miserable life. “Please, I can not leave my wife and daughters with nothing.”

“One less mouth to feed. I’d say you’d be doing them a favor.”

The man swallowed hard. “My daughters,” he almost whispered. “You can have your pick. Keep one of them in your home until I can gather the money.”

Rhys just managed to catch his sneer, maintaining his mask worn for business matters such as this. One line he never crossed was trading in flesh. He hadn’t touched the trafficking circles so many of the other major players tangled themselves in and no one indebted to him had dared offer up their own child yet.

He would have laughed in the man’s face and put an end to the conversation if it wasn’t for the soft gasp outside the office door. His eyes slid in the direction of the sound before he jerked his head, a silent order to Cassian. “Let me go! You can’t—” The girl’s mouth snapped shut the moment her eyes met Rhys’. “I—”

“Well, well. Didn’t your mother ever teach you that eavesdropping is rude, pet?”

Though her fear practically radiated from her, his demand only made her raise her chin. What a little brat she was. And no wonder, he mused. The youngest Archeron was an omega. A rarity, coming from a beta mother and father. Her older sisters had been just as disappointing in that regard, even if the eldest had a mouth on her.

“It seems I was right to,” the girl snapped back. “If you’re here to tear our family apart.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer audacity. All that rage in such a tiny package. It was refreshing. “My, Abraham. Just where were you hiding this little gem when I visited you before?” Leaning down, he caught a whiff of her scent, the lilac and pear downright intoxicating, setting his alpha instincts reeling. The words to seal the deal with her father were out of his mouth before what remained of his morality could cut through the haze. “I’m going to enjoy training you, darling.”

She drew a deep breath, shuttering softly. Good, that she was just as affected by him. “You can’t do this,” she whispered.

“Can’t I, pet?” He didn’t let himself touch her, instead drawing back to his full height. “Cass, make sure she has a few things for the flight back. The rest can be provided when we’ve made it home.” Glancing back over his shoulder, he addressed her father one last time. “A pleasure doing business, Archeron.”

~~~~~

Feyre

“A hunger strike isn’t going to do you any favors, sweetheart.” She scowled, pushing the plate to the top of her tray before turning her attention back to the window. “And the cold shoulder isn’t going to earn you a ticket home.”

“Tell me what, exactly, Rhysand, would earn me some peace and quiet?” Cassian coughed sharply, clearly trying to cover his amusement. The man seated beside him—still nameless to her—just shook his head. As if Feyre was some bratty child they should never have dragged into this mess. If he was so easily convinced, perhaps his partners could be too, no matter how patient Rhysand seemed.

Turning to the window again, she tucked her knees to her chest. Where was she left now? She was seventeen, not even graduated, and being flown off to God knew where until her father could scrape together whatever the nut jobs needed to pay off the astronomical loan he’d wasted in a matter of a few weekends. Feyre had seen the ledgers. Even if her mother and older sisters refused to greet reality, she knew better.

Now she was stuck. Her family wouldn’t be able to beg or bargain for the kind of money they needed. If she was ever going to be free, she’d have to plot an escape herself.

She spent the rest of the flight studying the three men as subtly as possible. How they moved, spoke, and acted towards one another. The weapons they each carried, even in the safety of their own jet. But what bothered her most, if she was being honest, was the raw confidence each of them exuded. They knew their weapons, knew each other, and laid an unshakable trust in that. She wasn’t going to be able to turn one of Rhysand’s goons to her side. Not the top of his team, at least.

So she would wait. However long it would take, she would best them.

~~~~~

Rhysand

“What game are you playing, Rhys?” 

They were an hour from landing in Manhattan when Feyre finally drifted off, giving his brothers the freedom to truly interrogate him. “We don’t let innocents get tangled in business. It’s the one thing that puts us above the others.”

“I have no intention of selling her off, Cassian. She’s exactly what her father offered her as—collateral.”

“She’s a kid, Rhys.”

“She’s a minor for a few more months, yes, but hardly a child.”

His enforcer scowled. “So, what, December rolls around and you put her to work in the club?”

“No,” he snapped, frustrated with how obvious his investment in the girl was becoming. There was no reason he should be so against the suggestion. They paid the girls dancing in their night club, Velaris, more than most in their profession could dream of. Their clientele was vetted. Feyre would have been just fine if he threw her Mor’s way to train up for the club. “I don’t know yet. She’ll stay at the townhouse under my watch until I’ve decided. No arguments.”

“Rhys.” He met his spymaster’s eyes, loathing the hint of worry there. “Eyes on the prize?”

“Always, brother.”

~~~~~

Just going to use my Dark!Rhys taglist at the moment, but if the trigger warnings are too much please reach out so I can remove you from the taglist.

Taglist: @whatishowedyouinthedark // @ninthcircleofprythian // @sajirah // @acourtofladydeath // @lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone // @rosanna-writer // @toporecall //@popjunkie42-blog

[therandompagesblog]

Her Soul for His Soul Chapter 4 (🌞Y/N🌞)

Trigger Warnings: Paranoia, anxiety, claustrophobia, mental health, emotional distress

The days went on and nothing happened to me. It was quiet. Far too quiet. Everything was too normal. Even Winter was back to her usual self. Winter did not even speak about that night. The only thing she apologised was for doing it in my room. Apparently she never meant to make me upset. It was weird. It was like she was hiding something. Even Lisa had her suspicions. We even went to university lectures as normal. We chatted and laughed like everything was normal but the unspoken rule was there. Do not mention that night. It was weird. The only thing unusual this term was that we had six university assessments due before Christmas which was biblically criminal. Whose idea was it to put them together? Probably Mr Whimsical's doing. He wanted us to suffer. He wanted a thesis plan due before Halloween which was in a weeks time. Could he have told us earlier, yes, but his memory was awful.       Mr Whimsical's memory was so bad he was re-teaching us a topic we did last week. None of us said anything and kept quiet as we snickered in our rows. He was teaching us about spirits again and I could have sworn the man was emphasising words more and more every time he forgot. This time he drew up on kindred spirits. This was something that got me and Winter's attention. "....a vessel of spirits. They hold the light or the dark. They are kind or evil. Their presence will match yours. Their soul is similar to yours but don't be fooled when one is evil. An evil kindred spirit is there to taunt your soul and consume it. Keynes are you listening or painting your face!?" Mr Whimsical paused to scold Jessica Keynes who was always late. Bless her heart she was a single mum of two who had to work after this lecture. "Right lectures done. Y/N at the back remind me next time I see you where we left off." "Yes, professor," I said. I was definitely going to remember. I needed to understand this book I had!!!       We quickly packed up our stuff and headed towards the courtyard to sit on the bench to have our usual lunch. "What did you think about what he said?" I asked. "I don't know, I wasn't listening." Winter quickly said. Me and Lisa looked at her curiously. The blond-haired girl literally jumped out of her seat when kindred spirits were mentioned. "I thought it was cool," Lisa added. "Yeah. So um, I'm going home for a few days." Winter stated, causing us to stop. "What! Why?" I asked. "That whole night, messed me up. I needed some space to understand what happened. It's not like I can ask my grandmother. I only have her books." Winter said. "It's sad because my poor grandmother is stuck in a carehome." "Take your time!" Lisa said honestly. "Do what's best for you, we'll be here whenever you're ready to talk!" I added, but deep down I was cursing her. I bet she's leaving us with evil spirits! "Just make sure you do your assessments!" "Y/N whatever happens I got your back once I understand!" Winter said, but before I asked she scurried off to answer her phone. "Does that mean you're fucked?" Lisa asked causing me to nudge her playfully.

BACK IN MY ROOM. IT WAS COLD. The heating was on but it was still cold. The lights were off except the green-coloured light from my Xbox controller that flashed when it was charging. My hand slowly reached up to find the light switch but instead, it touched the bubbly paint that wasn't painted on the walls properly. My eyes squinted as I looked at my chair where my coats were usually chucked over. It looked as though there was a figure sitting there. Waiting for me.       I quickly tried to find the light switch as I swore the figure moved but I couldn't find it. My heart started to thump heavily in my chest as I raced to find the switch. My hand was feeling against the wall where no light switch could be found. In the end, I used my phone and there it miraculously was. As soon as I switched the light switch it disappeared. It was like it was a figure of my imagination. My paranoia.       Sighing to myself I dumped my bag down and walked over to my bed to sit on it. I looked around the room. Taking note of all the belongings I had. A desk. A chair. A bed. A bathroom. Things that didn't look out of place, but felt irregular. Even though books that were placed on my shelf looked as though they were in the wrong order.        Ring! Ring! Ring! I jumped out of my skin when I heard my phone ring. It was Lisa! "You couldn't knock?" I said with laughter. "I'm too lazy but not too lazy to ask if you wanted to go to the library tonight. To study?" Lisa asked. I agreed, only because I was not going to get this thesis plan done any time soon.      I tried to start it or at least plan the essay title, but I was getting nowhere. I walked around the room for a few seconds before heading back to my seat. Typing all over again. This time I put my headphones in, listening to sound waves to help me focus. Quantum sounds in particular. It tingled the brain in the right spots to help me focus. As I was typing away I felt a breeze causing me to turn around but nothing was there. Even the window was shut. I continued on, staring at the screen as I looked at some articles. It was an article about spiritual vessels in another country. It was fascinating.      Y/N... I froze. Y/N... I took my headphones out and looked around to see my Xbox had turned on. Nothing was there. I slowly walked up to the door and listened to see if someone was at the door, but nobody was there.       I took a deep breath and went back to my desk when I noticed my notepad on the floor with the kindred spirit book. I gradually walked over to the book as if I was scared of my movements causing a disruption. I crouched down and picked up the book. Dusting it off before holding it close. It felt like I needed to console it. I turned the notebook over when I saw words written across the page. Do not summon them.       I dropped the notebook instantly and grabbed the book. I fled the room. I had to. I grabbed my bag and left. I went to the library.

THE LIBRARY SMELLED OF OLD BOOKS! It was a nice smell. I relished in it. It smelled like dust and burnt leather. It was cosy. All it needed was an old fireplace and it would be fantastic. It was beautiful. In fact it was the most exquisite library ever. It was like an old-fashioned lawyer's office. Some of the books were covered in barbed mesh and you had to get the librarian to unlock it to get the book you wanted out of it.      I sat down at the desk and texted Lisa I went to the library early. I pulled out my laptop and started studying alone. I didn't need music. The peaceful breaths were enough as it was. Until someone with a cold came in, making me cringe so my headphones went in my ears.       I studied away when I realised I needed a book. A certain book. I checked our university webpage to see it was in section 138.3b. That was the other side of the library!       Sighing to myself I walked down the corridor and through the double doors when a breeze hit. It was so cold down this part. "One hundred and thirty-six. One hundred and thirty-seven... Ah! Ha!" I said when I reached the room. It was a room with shelf dividers. A mobile bookcase. They annoyed me. They were too heavy to turn. As soon as I did I locked it.       I climbed in and searched for the book I needed and found it on the bottom shelf. I slowly took it out and flicked through a couple of pages when a book fell on my head. I gasped and rubbed my head when I heard an unclicking sound. Then the speed of the dials came. I was being trapped in. Caged into the bookcase. "Excuse me. There's someone in here!" "Hello!"       The person didn't hear me and I tried to rush out when I got stuck. I don't have the book. I need the book. My heart quickened as I forced my way out. There was nobody there. There was nobody in this room.  I wiped the tears that I didn't realise I had down my face and left the library with the book.       Lisa was already sitting there waiting for me with her stuff. She gave me a smile when she noticed my red puffy face. I waved her off and sat down. "I got stuck in the bookcase," I said. "My worst nightmare. I hope you're alright?" Lisa asked and I nodded. Trying to get on with my work. I took a peek in my bag to see the book comfortably sitting in there. I wondered if it was time to summon them but I didn't feel the need yet. I felt it wasn't time. I felt the spirit wasn't ready for me. Maybe it didn't feel the need to protect me yet. Maybe I wasn't in that much danger yet and it was just a harmless ghost playing pranks. Whatever it was, I hope it didn't get worse!

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@silentreadersthings @ihrtlix @galaxy4489 @catlove83 @reallychaoticwoo @leezanetheofficial @linocz @hyunmikim @eastjonowhere @skzdreamer13 @mavischerry @kiaralynn3838 @jellyleggz @mihoonz @hanniesbubuwife