#he was like you look good in the jacket and beanie man

[beargonefishing]

i know i got ts on because the guy at my work-bodega said i looked good in my jacket and hat

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hello! I've read your soap and price fics and you are amazing!!!

I had an idea for a fic for Ghost. The reader would be Soaps slightly older sister who isnt like Johnny at all. Im thinking she either picks up soap from base after an op or from the bar. I'll leave alot of this up to you but i just wanna see Soaps Sister meeting Ghost!!

Brother's Coworker

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Soap's Sister!Reader

SYNOPSIS: In the dim illumination of the streetlights, Ghost lays eyes on a woman leaning against the body of a vintage Hillman Imp.

WORDCOUNT: 4.2k

WARNINGS: Little bit of angst, but mostly fluff and pre-relationship pining, loads of sibling banter, conflicting emotions, etc.

A/N: Finally able to use my sibling experiences for a fic lmfao, enjoy!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

The woman was leaning against the body of a vintage Hillman Imp, the custom color a deep forest green along the sides and a cream white coating the upper third. Ghost stared at her as the rest of the men filed out of the bar one after the other—Johnny and Gaz being especially loud. He blinks slowly, hands inside his blackened pockets.

Across the way, your ears perk slowly at the sound of rapturous shouts, but you only continue to look down the sidewalk at the long illuminations of street lamps and the glints of broken bottles on the ground. Over your chest, your hands shift in their hold on your biceps, your thin jacket crinkling. Light dances in your irises.

“Oi, is that who I think it is?!” Familiar Scottish drawl brings a smirk to your face, and you turn slowly to huff, snapping out of your silent thoughts. 

“Who else would it be, ya bloody git,” your voice carries, but it lacks the sheer volume of your brother’s; the great boom that reminds you of the bombs he’d used to make out of your mother’s hair spray bottles. 

Never a dull day in your childhood home, really.

“‘Bout gave me a heart attack, not answerin’ my calls like that!” Johnny laughs loudly, obviously drunk, and stumbles over merrily. You’re taken into a chest-breaking hug in mere moments, leaving you squirming with a deep grunt. “Should have your head, MacTavish.” You manage to squeak out, “Put me the fuck down, you horror. And what in the hell have you done to your hair?!”

“Oh, my dear sister.” Your brother lets you go as the three other men slink over, amused with the scene but some momentarily confused by the sudden introduction. Gaz laughs, and the Captain huffs a chuckle before fixing the position of his beanie on his head. 

Ghost, as always, chooses to watch like a looming shadow above the rest. 

Johnny puts a hand to his chest, the other remaining on your shoulder, “You wound me. Such cruelty stuck in your black soul; I say now, mother was always right—”

You smack the side of his head and Johnny grunts. 

“Ow!” He yells, glaring at you. “What the fuck?!” 

“Open your mouth again and I’ll wring you out, you arse. You know I will.” Grumbling, the Scot rubs the side of his head as you raise a brow at him. The stare-off lasts for a decent bit, and before the rest of the group knows what’s going on, the two of you are embracing each other once more; laughing loudly. 

Ghost’s eyebrows pull in slowly.

“Ah, it’s good to be back!” Johnny chuckles, holding you close as you pat his back.

“Of course, I’d find my kid brother at a damn pub on his first day home.” Taking a step away from the hulk of a boy, you brush down your shirt and jacket with a scoff. Looking up, you come to face the remaining men with an exasperated look. “He’s full of shite half the time, y’know, now. Can’t imagine what he puts you all through.”

“Bloody hell, Soap, you were holding out on us,” Gaz chuckles loudly, sticking out a hand for you to shake while he glances at the mohawked Scot who looks giddy despite being insulted by who’s very obviously his older sister. “Never knew you had siblings, Mate.” You take the man’s hand as he smiles brightly at you. 

“Kyle.” He says, and you beam back, “But Gaz’ll do just fine.”

“A pleasure,” your voice carries to John who you raise a brow at teasingly. “Well, look who the Reaper’s yet to drag down…Good to see you again, Captain.”

Price shakes his head, a smirk peeling his lips as Gaz steps back. 

“Still on that land of yours, then, Love?” The brunette asks gruffly, leaning back on his heels for a moment while you sag your side into Johnny’s arm. Your brother scoffs and loops his limb over the bridge of your shoulders as you nod. 

“You know it. Proper quiet when the neighbors aren’t up to a ruckus racin’ down the streets. Christ, those kids are devils—worse than Johnny and I when we were young.”

“Now that’s hard to believe, eh?” The man beside you laughs through his slurred words and you roll your eyes. 

Chuckling in return, you blink, spying on the intent black figure behind everyone else. Piercing brown eyes dig past flesh like a scalpel while you tilt your head to the side, interest alighting behind your skull. He doesn’t move or even greet you, just looks over you and then turns his attention to the street like a roaming bear would; hell, he certainly could be a bear with how big he was. Bigger than Johnny, even. 

This stranger wears a large brown leather jacket, the hood of his underclothes pulled up to cover most of the pale skin that would otherwise be visible. The long swish of light lashes captures you as you study the way he blinks slowly across the road. On his chin and on the top of his forehead, the fabric of a skeletal-painted balaclava shrouds him. Cargo pants and large black combat boots sit on his feet. 

He stands like a statue. 

“Who’s this then?” You call easily, and those eyes travel back to you even as the head doesn’t. It’s strange the way you seem to brush aside the blatant intimidation he exudes simply by standing.

“Ah,” John grunts, chuckling, before stepping to the side. “Simon, introduce yourself.” 

A low voice lowly wafts after a moment to silence, Manchester accent spearing you in the ears with its rough make-up, “Ghost.” 

You blink over at the Captain, but he just shakes his head and you move on. Johnny chuckles and whispers to you, “Don’t mind ‘em, Lt’s a bit rough around the edges.”

Plastering on a polite smile, your chin moves in a nod, “Pleasure to meet you, Ghost. Good to know the other two who look after Johnny out there.” The man beside you feels his face burn, free hand going to itch at his neck.

Ghost grunts and shrugs off the veiled praise, large muscles stiff.

“You’re actin’ like I’m not the one savin’ their skins half the time,” Gaz interjects on the Scot’s point.

“Is that what you call it?” You share an amused glance at John. 

Though, your eyes always sway back to Ghost, or Simon, depending on who you ask. He listens to the chatter, obviously, but he seems much more content to only stay with his hands inside of his pockets and study the street for...what exactly? The beast wasn’t shy, no, just…silent. If you didn’t know better you’d call him aggressively casual with the way his shoulders sit.

Stance relaxed but the underlying threat was palpable on the wind. Like a wolf rubbing his cheeks on the ancient trees of his territory. ‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ - it seems his very DNA states that.

Brown eyes suddenly lock with your own as if snapping into place and before you can release a squeak of alarm, you swiftly dart your gaze away back to the arguing Sergeants; face burning.

Christ, how long had you been staring at him?

“Alright, you two, ease off it!” Trying to distract yourself, you wave a hand. “You’re both too drunk to be gettin’ into street fights at this hour. Johnny, into the car ya fool.” 

Your brother slashes you with a grin.

“Fuckin’ finally, a decent bed!” It was tradition to give Johnny the spare room when he was back home—proper meals. 

“You’re callin’ mother, y’know.” You unlock your car and motion to the passenger seat with a frown. “I dinnae care if you’re trapped for hours—give the woman a rest of all her worrying.” 

“You heard the woman, Sergeant,” John forces the gravel out of his throat, rubbing at his beard. Something hits your chest as your brother opens his door as you stand in the cold. You glance at each man in turn; eyebrows pulling in with thought.

“Ah, what the hell,” your voice huffs out. Ghost watches you closely, blinking as he lifts a hand to itch at his neck from under his hood. The leather jacket crumples with tiny shifts of worn-out material. 

“Don’t suppose you boys need any good beds to rest your heads on for the night?” Wiggling your keys, you pat the top of your Hillman as you slide to the driver's side. Johnny slinks inside his own and chuckles as he closes the barrier with a careful thunk. 

“Hospitality finally leakin’ in?”

“Next time I hit ya,” you send him a bland look, “I’ll aim for the neck.” Fake flinching towards him, the man squeaks and snaps quickly back into the car door as you snicker lively. 

“Beast!” Johnny exclaims. You roll your eyes and shimmy down the window behind him, calling out as the rest share glances.

“Get in if you’re comin’ over! If not all the food I made yesterday’ll go to waste!” That seemed to get Gaz into the back, with only Price and Simon left behind. 

Brown meets blue and John’s beard pulls back with a smirk. He clears his throat, “Well, I’m not one to spit in her face.” The Captain walks over and grunts as he bends down. 

Ghost sighs under his breath and follows, impartial as to where this night is going. He wouldn’t sleep tonight, no doubt. The hard and unforgiving beds on base were the only things he could rest on now save the ground. And food? He could go without food for days.

Though, being Johnny’s sister bought you some favor, trust wasn’t something that Simon gave around freely. But the car you drove was nice, and the company of his Task Force was easy to basque in until they shipped out again. 

Simon sits down on the refurbished seat and softly closes the door behind him. Dead-eyed, he stares at Johnny’s headrest as you glance at him from the rearview mirror—seeing his shoulder dig into the glass of the window. 

You shove down a joke and hum. “Good, then, it’ll free my fridge at the very least.” 

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Gaz offers as you start up the engine, “it’s awfully nice of you to do this for us.”

“Ah,” Simon hears you dismiss as he turns to stare out of the window; so often feeling his gaze drawn back to you as a leaf attached to a tree might act. “Don’t worry your head about it. I like the company.” 

“Aye, just how she is,” Johnny says earnestly. “Was always the one to let me over with my pals when the football games were over—’cept we were usually covered in mud.”

“I’m still finding grass in my rugs, Johnny Boy,” you mumble, focusing on the road as a slight squeaking emanates from the front of the car. Simon picks up on it easily, not preoccupied with speaking. He glances at you but mentions nothing beyond a shuffling of his thighs. 

Outside the land slides past in shades of verdant green and gray as the town falls away. 

He was confused, rightly. You’d seen his standoffish nature but had chosen to extend hospitality as the old Greeks did just off a growl of his name. But maybe it was just because he was your brother’s coworker. 

Simon grunts to himself and rubs at his wrist. Throughout the ride, the two of you would glance at each other and try to forget that you had; when the long driveway of a large secluded home expands out above the car, Gaz whistles lowly.

“Bloody hell, Ma’am,” he states and John chuckles. You easily smile and roll your eyes. 

“Trust me, it was more work than it was worth.” Ghost’s attention is slightly peaked.

“You worked on it?” His tone implies he doesn’t care, but his eyes gore into the mirror to lock with your own. Blinking in surprise, even the others seem to be taken aback by the man's lack of venom in his speech. 

Ghost wasn’t afraid to speak his mind when he needed to, but he didn’t do mindless chatter. Your eyes cycle between the driveway and the masked Brit before you clear your throat. Johnny glances at you with a raised brow, slight confusion in his brows. 

“Mostly—left the nasty bits to people more knowledgeable than I am, but I did most of the grunt work, eh?” Simon hums as the car pulls to a stop inside the garage, eyes not leaving the back of your head. 

Your neck bristles at the sensation of unrelenting contact, but the burning that joins it is telltale. Licking your lips you twist the keys out and quickly shuffle out of the door to dispel the electricity in the air. 

“Alright,” you say, “out. All of ya…Johnny, you’ll be helping me with the bedding.” 

A groan is cut by an unimpressed glare. “...Yes, Ma’am.”

You huff and smirk. 

“Trainin’ him well I see,” teasing John as they all file out of the car, he shakes his head at the two of you as Simon scoffs. Gaz openly laughs as Soap’s offended look grows. 

You all enter the house as you direct them to the kitchen after they’ve taken off their boots and hung their jackets. “It’s all in the fridge, heat what you want, and don’t bother fightin’ Johnny if he takes too much. Tell me and I’ll make him sleep in the back near the chickens.” Your voice tells them as you pat your brother on the shoulder. 

Johnny grumbles and kisses the top of your head. “You’re horrible to me,” He jokes but his eyes shimmer with affection. As you leave to get a head start on the rooms, you smile and call out to him.

“That’s my job!” 

Backing out into the hallway, you leave with a deep well of happiness in you. You don’t even realize that the party had only contained three men instead of four until you’re in the linen closet and a shadow suddenly blacks out the light from the bulbs. Jumping slightly, your head swivels as you carry very many sheets and pillowcases in your grip. 

“Oh,” you mumble through cotton, smile growing as the flip in your stomach does, “Ghost! Done eating already?” 

The man is still and silent as he glances from your face to the sheets. Without a word, he halves the load and steals them as your jaw loosens in shock.

“Johnny’s outside callin’ your mum.” Ghost turns and walks out, but waits for you in the hallway to be directed. 

You push down the tightness to your throat and see the man’s feet shift on the hardwood. He looks funny, such a big man carrying bed sheets. His actions make your heart speed up. Brown eyes blink at you like a cat. 

“Well,” you chuckle, “always was one to get out of housework.” Trying a smidge more, you shift past him and turn off the light. “His barracks room dirty?”

“Pigsty.” Simon blandly states, walking slightly behind you. Your pace slows so you can stay beside him. He side-eyes you but says nothing. 

Leaning in slightly, you quip as Ghost tenses, “Can’t say I’m surprised. The man’s used to me bailin’ him out.” Chuckling, you go into the first bedroom and put everything on the bed. 

Simon grabs the pillows and starts to dress them quickly and efficiently. 

“But thank you,” you say, and the Brit pauses to look up at you, something swirling in his murky gaze. Earnestly, you tilt your head with a smile. “Ya can go back and eat more if you want. No need to help—you’re a guest.”

“Not hungry,” is all he answers, and gets back to work. You watch for a moment, perplexed, but not at all about to deny the assistance. A genuine grin twitches your lips. 

“Johnny writes about you, y’know,” your fingers pull at the fabric and you chuckle as Ghost’s incredulous look turns to you—face hidden but confusion is obviously seen. “Says he looks up to you quite a bit; something about Mexico.” 

Your face dips slightly, and Simon’s body stills. Along the pillow, his grip carefully tightens. He can’t find it in himself to walk out of the door and stand outside even if he knows he should. 

“I really can’t imagine what it’s like,” you mutter, shaking your head. Gazing at him, you study his wound muscles and secret flesh like a tapestry—wondering if he hides himself because of the safe anonymity or a sense of numb fear. 

He wouldn’t admit to either, you know. But something about Simon had captured your attention and now you had a face, or just a body really, to put to the written name like a puzzle piece. 

You take a long breath, “But you’ll never know how grateful I am.” 

By the way his chest stops moving and his body goes frozen, you think you hit something inside of him; the minute widening of his eyelids like pedals opening in the light. Simon peers at your expression, his eyes sliding from one point to another. 

Like he can’t really pinpoint what you want. 

Ironic really, because you didn’t want anything. 

“Don’t thank me,” is what he settles on, moving back to the pillow as if your words hadn’t stabbed him. “Johnny knows what he’s doing.”

Your small snort enters the air above the sliding sheets. “There’s no argument there.” A sigh echoes as you finish up, putting your hands on your hips. Across the bed, you two stare as Simon tosses down the pillows. The remainder of the sheets sit on the end of the bed. 

The man’s eyes narrow on you, and he clenches his jaw under his balaclava. 

“The only thing that I do know is that every time my brother comes back he smiles less than he did before.” You side-eye him seriously as you move. “I can only guess what all of it does to the others who don’t have anyone else to go back to.”

Simon’s breath halts in his chest before he finds the means to take down a slow inhale. Brown eyes glare intently, jaw tight, but it’s not the fire that gets to you…it’s the lack thereof.

Ghost doesn’t like this feeling, and your candidness was something he hadn’t expected.

“So,” you drawl, “I’m thanking you for giving him someone to joke around with—a distraction,” a teasing smirk, “no matter how blunt.” 

“I just told you—”

“Well, I don’t bloody care, do I?” Huffing, you smirk and tip your head back before snatching the rest of the sheets. “C’mon, we have three more rooms.” 

Simon watches you leave and tries to fight the rampage in his chest; the merciless slam of his heart to his ribcage. What had you done to him? A hand comes up and rubs into the bridge of his nose, fingers heavy and tight. 

What in the hell was going on? 

Growling under his breath, Ghost stalks out of the room only to see your back disappear into the next. In the hallway, he takes a long inhale and closes his eyes to steady himself. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” the man grunts. The tension in his shoulders was plainly visible. 

For the remainder of the room, Ghost would send you tight glances as he worked but didn’t utter another peep. You had taken his voice, or what little left of it there was. 

In many ways, you were like your loudmouth brother—your snark and your stubbornness. But you were different too. 

He feels his eyes trail down your form slowly from time to time. Capable; hardy. Simon blinked away and grunted under his breath aggressively. 

When everyone was done with their food and Johnny had come back in from his call to his mother, with a soft smile on his face, you knew it was time for bed. 

“Alright,” you strut into the kitchen with Ghost on your heels—his large arms crossed over his chest as he caught Soap's intense stare. The Lieutenant's brow raises, but Johnny only frowns in conspiracy before he looks over to you and itches at his chin. “Beds are made. You can all thank Simon for that, seein’ as Johnny used our mother as an excuse yet again.”

“And she was very pleased to hear from me!” Your brother points to you.

“She’s our mother,” you deadpan, “It’s her job to be, ya arse-face.” 

The boys all follow you down the halls as you point to the rooms. Gaz shakes your hand again and gives you a tiny hug in thanks while John pats your shoulder and calls a soft, “Goodnight, Sweetheart.” 

Both close their doors and you hear the large sighs through the wood. You have to wonder when they’d had a good bed to sleep on and a good meal. Last was your brother and Ghost, the latter of which kisses your head and hugs you tightly. 

“It’s good to see you, truly. Been missing you, little Hen. Thanks for lettin’ me over all the time when I’m home.” You melt and grip his shirt. 

“You’ll always have a place here, you know that. One call away…Now go to sleep. You smell like a pub.” He lightly chuckles against you. With a bond this tight, the two of you never had to say that you loved each other—it was just known.

Johnny squeezes you one last time before pulling away and slinking into his room, giving an unrecognizable glance to Ghost on his way in before the barrier slips into place with a quiet thunk of wood. The two of you look at and stare for a moment. 

“Lucky you,” your voice is quiet but easy to hear, “you get the room with a view of the field.” 

“Color me surprised,” he mutters, not looking enthusiastic. Against the tone, the look makes your mouth jerk in a laugh, and you cover your lips after a moment. 

Simon’s eyes unconsciously soften. 

You wave a hand, chest light, “Let’s go then, you brute.”

“Brute?” Simon grumbles, “Gettin’ familiar?” 

“Please,” you shake your head and walk to the last door in this section of the house. “You all became familiar the second we met.” 

The man rolls his eyes but has his smirk hidden as you open the door for him. He tilts his head in thanks and strolls inside.

You hum, crossing your arms ahead of you and leaning on the doorframe as he looks around, “Don’t think too much over it… The baseline is, you’ll always have a bed here if you need it.” 

Ghost slips out, “What are you? Bloody boarding house?” The swelling in his chest made his words harsher than intended, but you just smile cheekily at him as eyes lock.

“Hell’s bells, if you want ta’ get me a business card just go ahead and print ‘em off already. I’ve no problem with it.” He stares and you laugh, shrugging. “Makes me feel good.”

Splaying your hands, you back out. 

“I know you probably won’t sleep,” Simon pauses, feeling caught but not showing it. “Libraries down the hall—if you smoke, use the back door. Kitchen is free game.”  

“Why?” He asks and you blink, confused.

“Well, why not?” Simon glares.

“You shouldn’t trust people like that.” A loud laugh echoes and makes the man annoyed with you.

“Simon,” you say, and he finds himself hanging on every word that falls from your lips in the moonlight. “Not everyone is out to get you. If you’re friends of Johnny’s, then you’re friends of mine. That boy can sniff a cheat faster than a hound can find a hare.” Perhaps it was the way his shoulders went back at that, or how his brows loosened, but you finish off with a soft explanation. “You’re safe under this roof.”

You wondered, not for that last time that night, if he’d ever been told that. From how his balaclava moved with a sharp jerk of his jaw, you assumed never. It made your lungs hurt. 

With a few more seconds of quiet gazing you nod and move back. 

“Goodnight, Simon.” You leave him staring at the door as you close it—eyes boring into the grain so harshly they might catch fire. 

Ghost doesn’t know how long he stays like that, but his ears twitch at the echo of running water and soundless footsteps. He should leave, he tells himself; this is dangerous, a voice hisses. It’s not safe here, how could it be? There were no guards—no weapons. If someone were to sneak in there wouldn’t be an alarm. 

A secluded home. Nothing around. 

Then why had your words seeped into him?

“You’re safe under this roof.” Simon closes his eyes harshly.

—

In the morning once everyone’s gone back to the base, you admit you don’t know if you’ll see Simon again; you probably won’t. But you find that you can live with that. The memory of his loosening tension is all you need to feel special in your own right. Those brown eyes that, if but for a moment, had bled so effortlessly feelings of something other than blood and death. 

As you sigh a dreamy chuckle to yourself, you get ready for the day before heading to your Hillman. The silent drive to work joins with the strange mix of weight and levitation to your chest. But halfway into town, it hits you. 

Silent.

There is an obvious lack of squeaking from under the hood of your car as you slide along the countryside. 

The smile doesn’t leave your face for weeks.

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[23victoria]

𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓮𝔁𝔂 𝓵𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓳𝓪𝓬𝓴

​​pairings: 𝓯1 𝓭𝓻𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝔁 𝓯𝓮𝓶!𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

synopsis: 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷'𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓹 𝓪𝓭𝓶𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓰𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓶𝓪𝓷 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓼 𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓬𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼 𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷

word count:

authors note: 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓼𝓸 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓮 𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓪 𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓮, 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓵 𝓼𝓮𝔁𝓾𝓪𝓵 𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓾𝓭𝓸 ;)

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F1 MASTERLIST F1 CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST

Lewis

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but watching Lewis chop down a tree was more attractive than you could’ve prepared for. His beanie sat low over his braids, and his tailored winter coat somehow still showed off his lean figure as he worked. He was taking his time, pausing every now and then to adjust his grip on the saw.

“You okay over there?” he called, catching you staring.

“Mhm, mhmm,” you replied, lips pressed together to keep yourself from grinning too wide.

Lewis raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re making it very hard to focus on Christmas right now,” you said, pushing off the car to walk closer.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he went back to sawing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Says the man chopping wood like he’s auditioning for a holiday romance movie,” you teased, standing just close enough to admire the way his muscles moved under his coat.

When the tree finally toppled over, Lewis turned to you, his smile soft and inviting. “So, what do you think? Still distracted?”

“Very,” you admitted, stepping into his space and wrapping your arms around his waist. “Think you can distract me more?”

“I’ll try,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you.

Charles

Charles was doing his best, really. He had one hand on the axe and the other bracing the tree, his face scrunched up in concentration. The axe was slightly too big for him, but he wasn’t giving up.

“Almost there!” he exclaimed, breathless, his accent wrapping around the words as he gave the tree another swing.

You leaned against the side of the car, your head tilted as you admired him. His cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, and the sleeves of his sweater were pushed up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms. God, the forearms.

“Mhm, mhmm,” you murmured, eyes sweeping over him appreciatively. “Take your time, baby. No rush.”

He glanced back at you, chest heaving, a strand of dark hair falling into his face. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“No reason,” you replied, biting back a grin as you watched him plant his feet and take another swing.

When the tree finally came down, Charles threw his hands up in triumph, laughing. “Voilà!”

“Very impressive,” you teased, stepping closer to loop your arms around his waist. “You know, you look really good with that axe.”

His eyebrows raised. “Do I?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw. “Good enough to make me forget about decorating the tree.”

Carlos

Carlos had insisted on chopping the tree down himself, despite your offers to help. He had his jacket unzipped and his scarf hanging loosely around his neck, clearly starting to warm up from the effort. His strong hands gripped the axe expertly, his movements steady and deliberate as he worked.

“Looking good, Sainz,” you called, leaning casually against a nearby stump.

He glanced over his shoulder at you, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. “I always look good, cariño.”

“Mhm, mhmm,” you hummed, your gaze fixed on the way his biceps flexed with each swing. You weren’t even trying to hide the fact that you were ogling him.

Carlos noticed, of course. “You’re not even looking at the tree.”

“That’s because I’m looking at something much more interesting,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

With one last swing, the tree fell, and Carlos turned to you, resting the axe on his shoulder. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And you’re too attractive for your own good,” you replied, stepping closer and tugging lightly on his scarf. “Think we have time to christen the cabin before we decorate?”

His grin widened. “You read my mind baby.”

Max

You stood back, bundled in your warmest coat and scarf, watching Max work with the hand saw on the pine tree trunk. His jaw was clenched in determination, blond hair messy under his beanie, and his broad shoulders moving rhythmically with each pull of the saw. The man was efficient—grunting softly every now and then, his strength on full display.

“Almost there,” he muttered, glancing at you for just a second, flashing a confident smirk.

“Mhm,” you hummed, biting your lip and crossing your arms. You weren’t even cold anymore, not with the way he looked like some kind of outdoorsy calendar model.

When the tree fell with a soft thud, Max stood up and leaned against the trunk, wiping sweat off his brow. “What do you think?” he asked, breathing hard.

What you thought was that he looked so damn good doing that, you wanted to drag him into the cabin and forget about the tree altogether. “Yeah… looks great,” you murmured, trying to keep your cool.

Max narrowed his eyes knowingly. “You’re staring, schatje.”

“Maybe I like what I see,” you shot back, smirking.

“Careful,” he teased, stepping closer with that cocky swagger of his. “We might not even get the tree inside if you keep looking at me like that.”

Lando

Lando wasn’t exactly the most experienced with an axe, but he was determined to prove himself. He stood in front of the tree, beanie crooked on his head, and his tongue sticking out slightly as he swung the axe.

“Are you sure you don’t want help?” you asked, hiding your amusement.

“I’ve got this!” he said confidently, though the axe got stuck in the trunk on his next swing.

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him, his cheeks red from the cold and his hair peeking out from under his beanie. “Mhm, mhmm,” you murmured, mostly to yourself. He might’ve been struggling, but damn if he didn’t look good doing it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lando asked, catching the tone in your voice.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, though your grin gave you away.

Lando narrowed his eyes playfully. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“Not at all,” you replied, stepping closer and brushing some snow off his shoulder. “In fact, I think you look pretty hot right now.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Oh. Well. Thanks.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Now hurry up before I get too distracted to wait for you to finish.”

Oscar

Oscar insisted he could handle chopping the tree himself, even though you’d offered to take turns. His cheeks were already pink from the cold, the soft rise and fall of his breath visible in the winter air as he focused on the task. His grip on the saw was firm, and his jaw tightened in determination with each pull.

You stood nearby, bundled up in your jacket, unable to stop staring. He wasn’t showy or dramatic like some of the others might be—Oscar’s charm was in how quietly capable he was, how his calm confidence made it impossible to look away.

“Mhm, mhmm,” you murmured under your breath, leaning against a nearby stump as your eyes trailed over the way his arms flexed with each movement.

He paused mid-saw, glancing up at you with a raised brow. “What?”

“Nothing,” you replied, biting your lip to hide your smirk.

Oscar tilted his head, a knowing glint in his eyes. “You’re staring at me, aren’t you?”

“Can you blame me?” you teased, crossing your arms as you walked closer. “My boyfriend looks very attractive chopping down a Christmas tree. What am I supposed to do, not look?”

His cheeks flushed, and it wasn’t just from the cold this time. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, though his smile betrayed him.

“You love it,” you shot back, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Finish up so I can drag you inside and show you just how much I appreciate your hard work.”

Sebastian

Sebastian looked like something out of a winter magazine as he worked, his green jacket snug against his frame and his woolen hat perched perfectly on his head. He made chopping down the tree look effortless, his movements efficient and controlled as though he’d been doing this his whole life.

You stood off to the side, arms wrapped around yourself, trying to suppress the utterly indecent thoughts running through your mind. Watching him chop wood should not have been this attractive. And yet.

“Mhm, mhmm,” you hummed softly, tilting your head to admire the way his muscles shifted beneath his jacket with each swing of the axe.

Seb turned, catching your gaze, and a knowing smile spread across his face. “What’s that sound for?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

“Nothing,” you replied innocently, though the way you bit your lip gave you away.

“Nothing, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, resting the axe on his shoulder as he walked over to you. “You’ve been staring at me for the last ten minutes.”

“Can you blame me?” you asked, shamelessly letting your eyes sweep over him. “You look so good doing this, I’m starting to forget why we even need the tree.”

Seb chuckled, his gloved hand reaching out to tug you closer by the waist. “If we don’t decorate the tree, it won’t feel like Christmas,” he teased, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Decorating can wait,” you murmured, tugging lightly on his scarf. “I have other priorities right now.”

Jenson

Jenson looked like he belonged in a holiday commercial as he worked, his scarf casually thrown over one shoulder and his jacket unzipped just enough to hint at the sweater underneath. He was taking his time, not rushing, his movements deliberate and precise as he wielded the axe with ease.

You stood nearby, watching him with an almost embarrassing amount of focus. His silver hair caught the sunlight, and the way his body moved with such confidence and control was doing things to you. Things you probably shouldn’t admit aloud.

“Mhm, mhmm,” you hummed appreciatively, your eyes shamelessly glued to him.

Jenson straightened, brushing snow off his hands as he turned to you with a smirk. “What’s with that look on your face?”

“What look?” you asked, feigning innocence even as your cheeks warmed.

“The one that says you’re not thinking about Christmas anymore,” he teased, resting the axe against the tree as he walked over to you.

You shrugged, tilting your head as you gave him a once-over. “Can you blame me? My boyfriend looks like he walked straight off the set of a Hallmark movie. How am I supposed to focus on the tree?”

He chuckled, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “So, what you’re saying is, I’ve distracted you?”

“Completely,” you admitted, running your hands up his chest.

Jenson leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “Good. Because I’ve been thinking about ways to distract you since we got here.”

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽! ❥☽ @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ronpho @minekarina @aeongism @Formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @f1updates4you @booksandflowrs @chaostudee @winkev1 @strawblueberrys @blakesbearblog @cel-b @perfumejamal @aykxz98 @pandora-08 @teti-menchon0604 @bxtosa @fadingcloudballoon-blog @whatevenisthisxxxxx @anamiad00msday @luula @jimcarreyfann42 @oliviah-25 @bbwzrld @goldenroutledge @unkownmystery_22 @sophienorris18-blog @flowerpetalk @paucubarsisimp @its-elias-world @magixpracticality @poppyflower-22 @pear-1206

[enha-stars]

✧ Homecoming (18+)

paring: idol!heeseung x fem!reader (fluff, smut)

summary: Heeseung, your boyfriend, has been on tour for the past 2 months with the rest of Enhypen. According to him, he’d be home in five days. But not everything goes according to plan, and sometimes, fate is on our side.

warnings: swearing, SMUT, kissing, minor exhibitionism, unprotected sex, teasing, hair pulling, wall sex (basically), oral sex & fingering (fem receiving), crying, praise, slight dom!hee, fluff

wc: 7.1 k

Heeseung and the rest of the boys lounged in his shared hotel room, waiting for their manager to figure out their recent predicament. Although their tour had officially ended a few days ago, they still had a few promotions left. This morning, their manager had told them that the promotions might have been pushed to virtual, which meant they could officially go back home. 

“I hope we get to go home soon,” Riki mumbles, half dangling off the bed with his legs in Jay’s lap. 

Jungwon and Sunghoon nod, mumbling in agreement. Heeseung was too busy staring at the door to contribute to their conversation. Everyone knew that out of the seven, Heeseung wanted to go home so badly. 

He loved touring and his fans and the amazing experience that came with his job, but he missed you. He missed you so much that when his manager first told him that there was a possibility that they would be going home sooner than intended, he almost burst into tears. None of the other members even teased him for it, knowing that when it came to you, he was a bit extreme. 

“Hyung,” Jay called him. He nudged Heeseung with his foot and the man snapped out of his trance and raised an eyebrow at Jay. “Are you going to tell Y/n?”

Heeseung thought about it. He could tell you, but nothing was confirmed yet and he’d hate to give you false hope. Plus, he’d really like to surprise you. He could already see it. The way your eyes would light up and your soft lips would part before you whispered his name. 

Heeseung shook his head and patted Jake’s head that rested on his lap. “No, I probably won’t. I want to surprise her.”

Jay nodded in understanding. He knew how much Heeseung had missed you. Hell, they all missed you.  You weren’t just Heeseung’s girlfriend, you were their friend. Someone who took care of them and got taken care of. Before he could respond, the door opened and all seven heads turned to the sound of their manager’s voice.

“Good news, guys,” their manager smiled at them. “We’re taking the next flight home.”

A collective sigh of relief was heard in the room and Heeseung smiled so bright that Sunoo laughed at him. 

“Don’t look too excited, hyung.” Jake grinned. 

He was going home. He’d be with you soon enough. The thought alone had him on cloud nine, not minding the teasing that came from his members. He even let Jake borrow his beanie and gave one of his jackets to Sunghoon. 

He couldn’t wait to have you in his arms. Talking to you everyday was something, but it wasn’t enough. He missed how you felt in his arms, how he felt in you. He missed your laugh and your mouth. 

Heeseung checked his phone and smiled at your last message. A quick update of your day and a picture of your outfit. He sent you a quick text, ‘Let’s call later, I love you.’ And turned off his phone. 

There was a small pep to his step as he packed. Instead of throwing all his stuff into the suitcase, he followed Sunghoon’s example and neatly folded his clothes. You’d be proud of him, he thought. Wondering if his reward would be a kiss or a simple shake of the head. 

Now, there was nothing but a few hours and a plane ride between you both. 

He couldn’t wait to see you. To tell you he loved you. To make up for two months of time. 

You glanced at your phone when you heard that familiar ping! When you saw Heeseung’s name on the screen, you lunged for your phone, almost tumbling off the stool you were sitting on. 

Your lips lifted into a small smile at Heeseung’s text. It wasn’t enough, but it would have to do. At least you would get to hear his voice later. For now, you liked his message and placed your phone back on the counter. Currently, you were trying to finish a painting you had started a few weeks ago.

The inspiration for the painting came to you after you had watched a fan’s recording of one of their recent concerts. The fan had managed to record all seven members dancing while the moon shone brightly down on them. It sparked something in you and here you were, trying to decide how many pieces of confetti you wanted to paint. After deciding on the aesthetic instead of the quantity, you let yourself get lost in the painting. It almost felt like you were with them, standing by the stage as they performed. 

Playing their music as you worked only helped your delusions. 

A few hours passed and your back and neck hurt. Stiff, you slowly stretched your back and winced at the sounds you heard. If Heeseung was here, he’d crack your back for you. Or if Jay was here, he’d offer you a heating pad. You stared at the finished painting and grinned. This was one of your best yet. Using your white quill, you signed the bottom of the painting and let it sit. 

Quietly, you shuffled across your apartment in your socks, swaying your hips to Sunoo’s voice. With Heeseung gone and none of the other members bothering you, you lived a relatively quiet life. In quiet moments like this, you truly felt thankful for them. They brought so much joy to your life. Loud and disruptive, but warm and healing at the same time. 

As you stood in front of your fridge, your smile turned into a frown at the thought of Heeseung. You missed him so much. His hoodies stopped smelling like him and video chatting wasn’t enough. You missed hearing his laughter and his constant singing. You missed the way he’d find ways to touch you, having to have skin-to-skin contact with you at all times. You missed his teasing and horrible jokes. It didn’t help that you hadn’t properly finished since he had left.

No matter how hard you tried, how wet you were, nothing could push you over the edge the way he could. And you tried, gosh, you had tried. Nothing could compare to him, and you silently cursed him for it. Of course he’d ruin your own fingers for you. He always did want to be the best. 

Stop, you told yourself. Don’t think about him. You had come to tell yourself this many times over the weeks, knowing that even his voice wasn’t enough anymore. You needed him. 

You sighed as you scouted your fridge for all the groceries you bought yesterday and put them in a bag. You planned to stop by their dorm to clean up a bit and cook a few dishes for them. They would all be home in a few days and you wanted to give Jay a break. 

The poor guy, you frowned. You made a note to tell Heeseung to help the man out more. 

Grabbing your phone and keys, you picked up the painting and bag of groceries. The painting would look amazing on the wall adjacent to the television in their dorm and you had enough groceries to last them a few days. 

The drive to their dorm was a quick one. Usually, you would have opted to walk, but you had no plans on walking back in the night alone. 

You smiled at the attendant and made your way to their floor. Thankfully, they had fixed the elevator a few weeks ago. Maybe they finally saw the videotape of you flipping off the camera after pointing at the Out of Order sign and decided to take pity on you. 

You swiped your access card and hummed as the elevator slowly made its way up to the seventh floor. Your lips always quirked at the irony of the bright number 7 that flashed. Seven on seven. It was almost poetic. 

You put down the bag of groceries and leaned the painting on your leg as you dug through your purse for the dorm key Heeseung had given you. After a few moments, you found the Pikachu keychain and pulled at it. Your thumb brushed against the small head of the figure, recalling Heeseung’s excitement at matching keychains. 

Turning the key, you kicked the door open and winced at the smell. No matter how hard you or anyone else cleaned the dorm, a distinct scent of boy would always linger. Sighing, you grabbed the painting and bag before making your way inside, kicking your shoes off to the side. 

Immediately, you scanned the large room. You were the only one who had been here constantly in the last two months but it was always better to be safe. Sometimes, the staff liked to move the furniture around to change things up. 

Once you had made sure that all the plants were alive, you opened a few windows. It was a bit chilly out but the place needed to be aired out. 

You connected your phone to Heeseung’s speaker and began looking for the hammer that Riki had once bought because he claimed it “looked cool”. The painting was heavy and needed heavy duty assistance, which meant you needed screws as well. 

“Where did he put it?” You mumbled, having gone through all the kitchen drawers. The thing about Riki was that when he bought something, he valued it beyond anything. He usually slept with the item or banned any member from touching it. While endearing, it usually meant that when his phase was over, he tossed the item, never to be found again. 

Finally, you found the neon green hammer under the television table and sighed. That boy, you chastised. 

You reached into your pocket and grabbed the small screw you needed. Placing it on the wall, you quietly hammered it in. The best part about being Heeseung’s girlfriend and friends with the members and staff, was that you had free reign to do things like this. 

No one bat an eye if they found you hammering a painting against the wall. It made your heart squeeze, knowing that you had found your place here, with them. 

Fuck, you missed them. Only a few more days. 

Once the painting was up, you stood in the middle of the room, taking it all in. I was right, you smiled. It does tie the whole room together. 

Nodding to yourself, you grabbed the cloth you had wrung out earlier and began to dust the visible surfaces. You had cleaned up the apartment only last week, so it was still freshly clean. You didn’t have to clean up the dorm, in fact, everyone had specifically told you not to, but you wanted to. It made you feel like you were doing something; helping somehow. Plus, it made you feel at ease. You could smell faint hints of your boyfriend and the quietness of it all helped calm you down. 

Your own apartment was small, and cleaning it wasn’t nearly satisfying enough. Plus, this was the least you could do for the members and the staff. They all worked so hard, and you liked cleaning. When there was no one nagging at your or any time constraint, cleaning was almost therapeutic. 

Once you had dusted the surfaces and vacuumed, you made your way to the kitchen. You had an idea of what you wanted to cook, deciding on seven dishes; one that catered to each member. Washing your hands, you started cooking. 

You liked cooking on your own, but it was always better with someone else. Unlike Jay, you didn’t mind cooking with him. There were many nights when you’d tell him to relax and take over the kitchen, but he’d always want to do something. So, you and Jay were often in the kitchen while the younger members watched you from the island. 

Even now, you could imagine his slight frown as you took over the counter, not wanting to say anything but he never was good at controlling his facial expressions. 

You quietly chuckled to yourself, already knowing Jay’s reaction to a stocked fridge. He’d freeze at the sight and immediately start feeling bad, and you’d only pat his head and tell him to shut up. 

A few hours passed and you slowly stocked the fridge, using all of Jay’s containers. Once the food was safely put away, you began wiping down the counters. Your heart felt so full at the domestication of it all. You were tired and your body hurt, but it would be worth it to see their thankful smiles, knowing you were taking care of them as best as you could. 

Through the music and your quiet humming, you heard noise in the hallway. It started with shuffling and footsteps and turned into ruckus, with yelling and shoving. 

Freezing, you stared at the door before grabbing the closest thing to you, a butter knife. Any of the staff members would have texted you if they were coming and no one else should be here. Slowly, you walked towards the door, forgetting to turn down the music. You winced when Bite Me began playing, hoping the intruder(s) wouldn’t take the song too seriously. 

You watched in slow motion as the door swung open and you stopped breathing when you heard familiar voices and your knees buckled when your eyes landed on him. He was here. Why on earth was he here right now? 

Heeseung swings the door open, mumbling at how slow Jake could be sometimes when everything fell quiet around him. Looking up, his words died on his tongue as he made eye contact with you. 

The members behind him fell quiet, staring at you. All you could do was stare back, lips parted and eyes shining. Were you dreaming? Had the music and the spices mixed with the fumes of the cleaning supplies, putting you in psychosis? 

That’s how you all stood, staring at each other until you licked your lips and blinked a few times. You hadn’t breathed in what felt like minutes. “Heeseung?” Your voice was quiet, afraid the mirage would disappear if you spoke louder. 

Your voice; your soft, velvety voice brought him back and he smiled at you, his eyes bright and hands shaking. “Hi, pretty.” He spoke equally softly, afraid his words would tremble.

You dropped the butter knife and its clunk synced with the sound of Heeseung’s suitcase and suddenly, you were in his arms. His strong, shaky arms wrapped around you and you buried your head in his shoulder, breathing him in. His own head was in your hair, his hands traveling the length of your back, making sure you were real. 

He mumbled quiet nothings at you while you clenched your eyes shut, hating how your eyes watered. He pulled away and immediately cooed when he saw the tears falling from your eyes. His own eyes shined a bit, crinkled and glassy. 

“Oh, baby.” He used his thumbs to wipe the tears from your eyes. His heart was going to explode with the way you were looking up at him with wide eyes and trembling lips. Cupping your face, he placed a soft kiss on your lips. Before he could pull away, you grabbed the front of his hoodie and with your other hand, you cupped his cheek and tilted your head, deepening the kiss. He smiled into the kiss and you could feel his heart beating against your chest. His lips were warm and your head felt fuzzy at the scent of his familiar cologne. 

He licked your bottom lip, asking for entrance, but before you could taste his tongue, someone cleared their throat around you. You pulled away from Heeseung, smiling at his closed eyes and the pout on his lips. Turning, you realized that the other members had moved further into the dorm. Jake, Sunoo, and Riki were staring at the painting in awe while Jungwon was checking on his plants. Sunghoon was walking around, admiring the cleanliness of the room and Jay stood in the kitchen, hands on his hips as he stared at you, fridge doors open. 

You stepped away from Heeseung, grinning at the way his lips pursed and how he reached for you. You smiled at the boys in front of you and opened your arms. Immediately, Riki’s tall body enveloped your smaller one, knocking you back. You felt Heeseung’s warm hands steady you and laughed as Riki squeezed your body tight.

You rubbed his back, knowing how bad his attachment issues got. He had texted you everyday, updating you with pictures or quick voice messages. You also received his longer texts, the ones that were filled with doubts and fears. You knew Riki saw you as a parental figure, and you were okay with it. Patting his head, you whispered quiet, soothing words to the boy. 

“Move, Riki, my turn.” Sunoo rolled his eyes, pulling Riki off you. You could only laugh at Riki’s yelp before Sunoo pulled you into a hug. You hugged the boy just as tightly, kissing his cheek. You rocked with him as he buried his face into your shoulder. He, too, like Riki, had often texted you with doubts. You wished he would see himself the way you saw him, bright and talented. 

You rubbed his back, basking in the familiarity of it all. Sunoo kissed your cheek before pulling away, a wobbly smile on his face. You pat his cheek before Jake shoved Sunoo and bearhugged you, crushing you a bit. You smile as he squeezes you tight and you pat his head, knowing how attached to you he was. Saying goodbye for him wasn’t easy and you could tell he missed you by the way his body trembled. 

“Jake, move, you big baby. It’s my turn.” Jungwon pouted, arms crossed. Jake mumbled a string of incomprehensible words and released his hold on you. You pat his chest and smile at the puppy eyes he gives you. You’d have to delegate your time with them all. 

You hugged Jungwon’s slightly smaller frame, slightly surprised at his eagerness. Jungwon, while very affectionate, usually hesitated with hugs. But he needed this, so he let himself sigh into your hold. 

Behind you, you can feel Heeseung’s heat against your back. He’s close, and he’s trying to breathe you in. All he wanted to do was grab your hand and pull you into his room. He needed to kiss you, to touch your skin, bask in your scent. He would have to wait, though, because he wasn’t the only one who loved you. You were his girlfriend, yes, but you were more. You were a part of their family, someone who had been with them since their days on I-Land. 

You were Jay’s sous chef, someone who eased his burden. You were Jake’s bridge, someone he could rely on and felt safe with. You were Sunghoon’s pillar, there to remind him to stand tall and lean on you if he needed to. You were Sunoo’s breath of fresh air, a reminder that he was not alone and that things would be okay. You were Jungwon’s and Riki’s biggest supporter, caring for them the way they needed to be cared for. You stood behind Jungwon, knowing he needed care and support even though he was the leader. To you, he was still a kid. And Riki, you were everything to Riki. A sister and a mother, both when he needed one. Heeseung needed to be patient. It was his fault really, having inserted you in their lives. But he was thankful, so thankful. 

“Jungwon,” Sunghoon tsked. “I’m waiting.” He stood in front of you, arms crossed as he tapped his foot impatiently. He wasn’t the most physically affectionate, but it had been two months and he had missed you. 

Rolling his eyes, Jungwon kissed your cheek before stepping away, shoving Sunghon’s shoulder before the older boy gently wrapped his arms around you. You laughed at his behaviour, before squeezing him tight. He wasn’t often like this, but when he was, you knew he just needed some attention. 

Gently, you rubbed Sunghoon’s back, watching as his stiff shoulders slowly dropped and he melted into the hug. It was the most platonic form of affection, but it did wonders. 

Sunghoon pulled away from you, grinning so wide you almost poked his little fangs. You smiled and turned to face Jay, who still stood in the kitchen with a frown on your lips. 

You shook your head at him, he was truly predictable. “Come on, Jay, aren’t you going to give me a hug?” 

Jay sighed and dropped his shoulders before he shuffled to you. You spread your arms before wiggling your eyebrows at him. He smiled before wrapping his arms around you, hugging you the way you assumed he hugged children. You ruffled his hair before patting his back, knowing how tough the past two months must have been for him. He would tell you, all in due time. 

Stepping away, he frowned once again. “Y/n, you really didn’t have to do all of this. Who’s going to eat all that food?” 

You laughed and pointed to the five boys behind him, all looking at you with a sheepish smile. “Them. And you. And Hee.” Before Jay could argue further, you raised your hand. “I wanted to make sure you guys came home to some food and I wanted to give you a break. So, just say thank you and shut up.” 

Jay stared at you before sighing and nodding. “Thanks, Y/n. You’re the best.” You laughed at his defeated face, patting his cheek. 

“Don’t sound so upset about it,” you teased. 

Once Jay stepped away from you and walked back to the kitchen, the rest of the members fell back onto the couches, exhaustion knocking them back. Behind you, Heeseung wrapped his arms around your waist and dropped his head on your shoulder. He kissed your neck and you smiled, dropping your head back on his shoulder. 

“Y/n,” Riki patted the seat next to him. “Come sit. You too, hyung.” 

Heeseung didn’t unwrap his arms from your waist so you both slowly walked to them. He fell back onto the sofa, pulling you into his lap. You settled in, shifting a bit before you felt comfortable. Heeseung squeezed your hips, and you grinned. He couldn’t have been more obvious. 

“So,” you clapped your hands together. “What the hell are you all doing here? I thought you guys weren’t going to be back for a few days.” 

Jungwon grinned at you. “All of our ending promotions turned virtual so we got to come home early.”

You could hear Jay mumbles before he fell back onto Jake, ignoring the other boy's groan as he shoved him to the side. 

“Why didn’t anyone tell me? I would have come to the airport. Or had a warm meal ready.”

Jay waved his hand, dismissing your words. “We’re still stuffed. We ate before we left and again on the plane.” He patted his stomach. “I’m about to explode. 

Sunoo pointed at Heeseung. “He wanted to surprise you but you surprised us. How often have you been coming to the dorm?”

You shrugged, your face feeling warm. “A few times… a week.” You bit your bottom lip as they laughed. You could feel Heeseung’s chest rumble and you leaned back on him. You slightly shifted your hips and his nails dug into your skin. Your own breath hitched when you felt his bulge. 

“Tell me about the tour! How was it?” Heeseung almost groaned when you leaned forward, excited. He was losing it a bit. Here he was, back home and you were with him, and yet, he wasn’t in you. What was he doing? Why hadn’t he taken you to his room and fucked you yet? 

The rest of the members started talking, words spilling out of their mouth as you sat perched on his lap, listening carefully. They spoke over each other, excited to tell you all about the tour. 

Heeseung barely listened, focusing more on the heat of your body on his. He chimed in a few times but he was more interested in rubbing circles on your lower back, smirking to himself everytime you flexed your back. He had missed you so much, and all he wanted was to show you. He knew you wanted him just as bad, but your self control was always better than his. 

Slipping his hand under your shirt, he rubbed your back. At the feeling of his nails gently hovering over your skin, you felt goosebumps litter across your skin. It was getting harder to pay attention to Jake’s stories. You could feel heat traveling down your body, resting between your legs. You wanted him so badly. But you also wanted to spend some time with the rest of the members. You missed them too. 

Plus, you didn’t trust Heeseung right now. Knowing him, he’d want to fuck you but everyone was home. You had some decorum. So you ignored his light, teasing fingers on your skin. 

“When did you paint that?” Sunghoon asked, pointing to the large painting behind your head. “It’s beautiful.”

You grinned. “Thanks, Hoon. I just finished it today, actually. Figured I'd put it up before you guys got here.”

Heeseung wasn’t listening to the praises you were receiving. He would praise you later, rewarding you with everything he had. He had so much to thank you for. For waiting for him, for the food and the painting, for being his. If only you would give him all of your attention. 

Having enough, Heeseung gripped your hips tighter, lifting you off him as he stood. A tumblr of surprised noises left your mouth at the sudden movement and you turned your head to say something but your words got caught in your throat when you looked into his eyes. 

Wide and slightly dark, you knew what that meant. Stifling a laugh, you simply raised your eyebrow, slightly impressed by his self control. You were sure he would have jumped you earlier, but he held on. Almost for two hours. 

The members continued to talk; not paying any attention to the silent conversation you were having with Heeseung. They had long gotten used to it all. Plus, it was easier when they ignored it all. 

“Y/n,” Heeseung enunciated your name, tasting each letter on his tongue. You could have squeezed your thighs together at his tone alone, but you held back. “Will you come help me unpack? I’m a bit tired.”

Your eyes softened a bit at his words. Of course he was tired. You chose to ignore the enticing fruit his voice offered, giving him the benefit of the doubt. You simply nodded and followed him as he grabbed his suitcase, walking closely behind him as he led you to his room. 

Thank fuck he had his own room. Being the eldest had its perks and it helped that Jungwon only felt comfortable sleeping with someone else. He was so glad his bedroom was at the end, furthest away from the family room. 

Heeseung’s entire body felt like it was on fire. He had been thinking about you on the plane. Everything he’d like to do. From where he wanted to place his tongue to the food he’d make you. He kicked his door open, dropping the suitcase beside his door. 

You faced his bed before clapping your hands, turning to face him. “Okay, let me do it—” Heeseung cut you off by slamming his lips against yours as he pushed you into the door, a hand on your hip and face. Your surprised gasp was swallowed by him as he kissed you ferociously.  

The kiss was needy and hungry, but so were you. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed him back deeply. He pushed himself further into you until pain seared in your back. The mixture of pain and pleasure made you stifle out a moan and Heeseung slipped his tongue into your mouth. Sucking on your tongue, he fitted his leg in between yours, his thigh rubbing your pussy. 

Pulling away, Heeseung began kissing down your neck, nibbling and sucking. Your head fell back as you bit your lip, trying to keep quiet. He bit down on your neck and your hands flew into his hair, massaging his scalp lightly with your nails. You feel him sigh against your neck and tighten his grip on your waist. 

Unconsciously, you begin grinding on his knee. Heeseung kisses up your neck before capturing your lips in another heated, messy kiss. Saliva coats your mouth as his hands travel from your waist to neck. He slightly presses down on your throat and you moan into his mouth. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re killing me.” Heeseung pants into your mouth, lips hovering your swollen, bruised ones. His own lips are swollen and his eyes are blown wide. He swears he could cum in his pants at the sight of you alone. Two months without being able to touch you–without being able to feel you–were hell. 

Your eyes are shut and your lips tremble at the feeling of his clothed thigh rubbing your pussy. After weeks of unsatisfying pleasure, this was too much for you. You were too sensitive. Heeseung smiled at the dazed look on your face and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before he took off his shirt.

At the movement, you opened your eyes. If Heeseung’s arm and leg were not keeping you upright, you would have collapsed at the sight of him. He looked so beautiful. Hair as wild as his eyes and his perfect chest on display. Gingerly, you lifted your hand and laid it flat on Heeseung’s chest, where his heart was. He watched you with half-lidded eyes and smiled at your frown. His heart was beating so fast. 

You looked up at him and he couldn’t help but press his lips gently against yours. You were so beautiful that it was too much for him. He watched you quietly as you lay your other hand on his right peck. He could only stand there, frozen, when you leaned forward and kissed his heart. His eyes shut when you began to litter soft, feather-like kisses across his chest. 

“I missed you so much, Hee.” You whispered against his skin. You kissed his neck, leaving open-mouth kisses. Your hand moved up his body until it reached the back of his neck. You pushed him downwards and bit his neck, smiling when he groaned. You kissed his Adam's apple before pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. 

Heeseung opened his eyes and had to blink away the pure desire that clouded his mind. You stared at each other before he dropped his head, forehead resting against yours. “I missed you so much, Y/n. You don’t understand, I was going crazy. You were always on my mind and all I wanted to do was hear your laugh.” His words were quiet, spoken only for you. He didn’t miss the way you squeezed your thighs together at his words, his knee still in between you. 

“Kiss me,” you breathed. Heeseung smiled before he kissed you passionately, completely devouring you. As you kissed, he unbuttoned your cardigan, tossing it to the side. Quickly, he unclasped your bra before throwing it behind him. When his hands brushed your sensitive nipples, you pulled away from the kiss to release a shaky breath. Heeseung wasted no time in moving his head down to suck and bite your nipples, giving each one the proper love and attention he knew they deserved. His tongue circles and prods until you're shaking, unable to form coherent words. 

Slowly, Heeseung moves down your body, kissing and licking until he’s on his knees, looking up at you like you were his saviour and he was a man condemned to hell. Your knees buckled at the sight of him, messy and wild. 

“Let me taste you, baby.” He hooked his fingers on the waistband of your leggings and underwear before pulling them down. “I need to taste you so badly before I lose my mind.” 

You could only nod before moaning as Heeseung buried his face in between your thighs, nosing your clit. You let your head hit the door when you hear him inhale. You almost don’t catch his words when he mumbles into your pussy. 

“Fuck, you smell so good. ‘Gonna cum at the sight alone.” He looks up at you before rubbing your arousal all over your clit, earning moans and whimpers from you. He keeps eye contact with you before licking his hand clean. “You taste so good, baby.” 

He begins to leave wet, open mouth kisses to your thigh, alternating between biting and sucking at the soft flesh before he licks a trail of slick down your thigh up to your leaking hole. You buried your hands in his hair as he devoured you. 

Heeseung moans as he slides his tongue in. You arch your back at the feeling, biting your lip to prevent the scream that almost escaped you. His nose pokes at your swollen folds while his tongue works its way into you. He hums as he licks and swallows, the noise sending a shiver up your spine. 

Heeseung groans when you yank on his hair, his name quietly leaving your lips in rushed breaths. You tasted so fucking good, he couldn’t get enough. He sucked on your clit, tilting his head to make sure his tongue was reaching far into you. He shifted his thighs, trying to offer his cock some sort of relief.

Heeseung could have cummed as soon as you began rolling your hips forward, essentially fucking his face. You looked so fucked out, trying to reach your release against his bedroom door as all his members sat right outside. 

“So good,” he chanted. “Taste so good.” 

Groaning, his eyes fluttered shut as he lost himself in you; desperate for everything you could give him and more. He was slurping and sucking your pussy so loudly you wondered if everyone could hear you outside. At the thought, your hips jerked forward and you almost screamed as Heeseung’s face pressed into your pussy, his nose shoved deep within you. 

“Fuck, Hee,” you panted, pulling at his hair even harder. “I’m going to cum. Please–” 

He wasted no time in wrapping his lips around your clit as he sucked it into his mouth, eyes focused on you as your legs clamped around his head, nearly suffocating him. The building of pleasure snapped and you sobbed out his name, clenching your eyes shut.

It was all too much.

Your nerves were on fire as your vision went white but Heeseung continued to lick at you. The bottom half of his face was shiny and slick with your cum but he didn’t care. His tongue worked its way from your entrance all the way to your clit, needing to keep your orgasm going. 

Your body began to shake, knees weak as Heeseung kept lapping up all your juices. His tongue fucked your clit and you felt another build up before you shoved your fist into your mouth to muffle another scream.

“Hee, Hee, Hee. Please. Too much. Please.” You begged him, losing all feeling in your body as he sucked you dry. 

It wasn’t until you yanked his head away did he stop, face dripping with your click and pupils dilated. He sat there on his knees, staring up at you. You looked down at him, trying to remain upright. Your legs shook and tears fell from your eyes. 

Slowly, Heeseung stood. He licked his lips, trying to coat his tongue in your taste again. Nothing would ever taste as good as you did. None of the food he had on the tour could compare. You were addicting, sweet, and if he could, he’d only have you as his meal. 

You leaned back against the door, trying to catch your breath. Heeseung smiles at you and your knees buckle at the sight of your cum on his smiling face. He kisses you and your stomach twists at the taste of your cum on his tongue. It’s dirty and messy but so was he. 

He pulls away before he dips his fingers in your pussy. You whimper at the feeling and the loss when he sticks his fingers into his mouth, sucking as he stares at you. With a pop, he releases his fingers.

“You taste so fucking good.”

You can’t say anything and Heeseung grins at you before he tugs his own sweatpants off. You can only watch as his hard, swollen cock springs up and hits his stomach. Gosh, you had missed it. It was the prettiest cock you had ever seen. The small veins that trace up his length to his red, dripping tip had your mouth watering. 

Grinning, Heeseung slowly walks backwards until he reaches his bed. He sits down, spreading his arms as he stares at you, his cock leaking precum all over the floor. You can’t breathe. It was all too much. You couldn’t think and you couldn’t speak. All you wanted was his cock in you, but he seemed dead set on teasing you. 

“Walk to me, baby.” At your blank gaze, he laughed. “You can do it.” 

Slowly, with shaky legs, you put one foot in front of the other until you reached him. His hands immediately rested on your waist and he was eye level with your tits. Leaning forward, he sucked one nipple while palming the other. Your hands rested on his shoulders, needing support. Then he sucked the other nipple, biting down. You gasped, throwing your head back. 

“Such a good girl.” He kissed the space between your breasts. “Cleaning and cooking for us.” He licked your nipple before pushing you into him. He breathed you in. “You’re too good for me. 

You could feel your slick dripping down your leg. You squeezed Heeseung’s shoulder, eyes glistening. His own eyes softened as he rubbed your clit, his thumb drenched. 

“What is it, baby?” He raised an eyebrow. “What do you want?” Heeseung wanted to feel bad, but he couldn’t. Not when you looked like that. Not when you made him wait two hours before tasting you. 

“You,” your lips trembled. “Please, Hee. Need you. I missed you.”

Your words made Heeseung dizzy but he wanted to hear you say it. He needed to hear you say it. 

“Need what, Y/n? Be more specific, baby. Come on.” 

You moved closer and threw your legs on either side of him, sitting on his lap. You both hissed when your pussy grazed his cock. Dropping your head on his shoulder, you almost sobbed.

“Need your cock in me, Hee. Please. Need you to fuck me.”

Heeseung wrapped an arm around your waist as he turned, throwing you on his bed. You landed on his bed, eyes wide in surprise. Legs spread, Heeseung crawled in between your legs. His cock hurt. You dripped onto his sheets, more aroused than you had ever been. 

“I got you, baby.” He whispered, a love-struck smile on his face. “I hear you.” He leaned down, kissing you. He threaded your hands together as he pressed them down on his mattress. 

While drowning in the kiss, you felt his cock slowly rub against your entrance. You whined into his mouth as he coated his dick in your juices. He kissed you harshly as his cock poked your entrance. You held your breath when he pushed the head slowly inside, moaning against his mouth at the hardness of it. You felt yourself gushing around him, your pussy sucking him in. He moved his kisses to your neck, finding new places to mark you. He pushed his cock inside you slowly until he bottomed out, groaning at how tight you were.

“Fuck,” he shut his eyes. “You’re so fucking tight and yet you’re sucking me in. Missed my cock, baby? Did your pretty pussy miss my dick?” 

You could only moan in response. The feeling of being full after weeks had tears leaking from your eyes. None of your toys could compare to Heeseung, not with how big he was. 

Heeseung began slowly rocking his hips slowly, wanting to give you a moment to breathe. He could tell you were overstimulated, but he wasn’t done. When your eyes fluttered open, his pace fastened and deepened. “Never leave me again,” you mumbled. “Missed you too much.” At your words, Heeseung breathed hard and starting fucking you faster. His hand snaked down, rubbing quick circles on your clit.

Before you could cry out, he slammed his lips against yours, swallowing your moans. “Quiet, baby,” his words wobbled. “They’re all out there.” At the reminder, you squeezed his dick and he fucked you even harder. Your vision blurred before you mumbled out a series of incoherent words. 

“That’s it, baby. You’re taking me so well.”

Heeseung’s forehead was covered in sweat and his cock twitched. “Cum for me, Y/n.” He wasn’t going to last. He needed you to cum right now. He needed to cum in your pussy, needed to fill you up after months of emptiness.

You moaned as you squirted and came all over his cock. You lost all control of your body and felt your walls uncontrollably clench his cock so hard. Heeseung moaned loudly as he bit your neck, cumming inside of you. He emptied himself in you, the squelching sound became louder as your juices mixed and he fucked into you, filling you up. He was mesmerized by the sight of his dick in your cunt, disappearing. This is where he was always meant to be, in you and beside you. 

You babbled a string of words he assumed were his names as he pumped into you, lost in your cunt. He kept fucking you, unable to stop. You were crying, overstimulated and emotional. When the last drop of his cum dripped into your cunt, he slowed his pace. He pressed kisses to your face and neck until he stopped moving his hips. 

Heeseung collapsed on top of you, his head buried in your neck, cock still inside you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and arms around his neck. You couldn’t feel your pussy but Heeseung’s weight on top of you was welcomed. 

After a few minutes, he pressed a kiss to your neck and shifted to get up when you tightened your hold on him, shaking your head. He stopped moving and looked at you. “Baby?”

“No,” you mumbled. “Stay on me. Stay in me.”

Heeseung didn’t need to be told twice. Dropping his head, he laid there. You breathed him in, sweat covering your bodies. Heeseung closed his eyes, unable to stop himself from pressing kisses to your neck. 

You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Heeseung’s cock inside you. It’s where he belonged, and he had to make up for lost time. 

“Welcome home, baby,” you smiled. 

Heeseung grinned before biting your neck, licking up to your jaw. He pressed a kiss to your jaw, smiling softly at you, only love and adoration in his eyes. “I love you, Y/n.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest. “I love you, Hee.” 

a/n: hello! i finally finished my first heeseung fic! so excited. this is my first time writing proper smut so please bare with me. reblogs and comments are appreciated!!

[hypewinter]

Dick stared out at the snowy landscape past the window before turning back to his new baby brother. Danny was sitting in his high chair, happily munching away at some Cheerios. Looking at him now Dick thought back to how he had come to Wayne Manor just a few months prior.

Bruce had stormed into the Manor after coming back from a Justice League mission with a bundle in his hands. Dick who had stopped by the manor to steal food catch up with Alfred had been thoroughly thrown off by his father's open animosity. He could hardly recall the last time he'd seen Bruce this outwardly furious. The man's glare alone could rival Darkseid's omega beams. As Bruce sat down at the table, the two men finally got a good look at just what he was carrying. It was an infant. An infant who was fast asleep, his soft black hair falling over his eyes. Bruce quietly asked Alfred to prepare a room as well as all necessities needed for a baby. The old butler had immediately set off to just that.

Meanwhile Dick was quick to ask what had happened but Bruce didn't say. Even when the others gradually found what was happening and asked their own questions, he still refused to answer. Not even Alfred had been told where the baby had come from. The only information Bruce had offered up was that the baby's name was Danny and he would be staying at the Manor from now on. As for the rest of the details, he claimed he would tell them in due time. But Batman's "due time" was often too late to actually do anything about it so desperate for answers, the family had turned to their own investigations only to come up with nothing.

All files related to Danny were locked behind a mountain of firewalls and Oracle had apparently already been sworn to secrecy by the big man himself. Whatever it was, Bruce wanted absolutely zero interference, so for now, the family was forced to sit in their hands.

That led till now, 5 months later. It was mid-January and Dick was on babysitting duty. Everyone else was either out running errands or on a mission. Not that Dick minded though. Danny was incredibly cute and he loved taking care of him. Besides, it gave him the perfect opportunity to get Danny to see him as the favorite brother. Still, Dick couldn't help but feel couped up today. Maybe it was because it had been snowing the last few days leaving both boys alone in the giant manor all day long.

Dick stared wistfully out the window once again before an idea dawned on him. He turned back to Danny who had stuffed the last of the Cheerios into his mouth along with his entire hand.

"Hey Danny. Wanna have a snow day?" he asked cheerily. The boy cocked his head at Dick, hand still in mouth. Dick smiled wider. "I'll take that as a yes!"

Dick hoisted Danny out of his high chair and carried him upstairs to his room. After he set Danny down in his crib, he grabbed all the gear he needed. He picked out a long sleeve shirt with a cartoon star and big bold letters reading "You're a Star!" He also grabbed long socks, some elastic pants as well as jeans, a scarf, a blue beanie, and a pair of cute little mittens.

It didn't take long for Danny to be fully dressed for the outside elements. Though after Dick finished putting his shoes on, he squirmed a little and made a face.

"I know I know," Dick cooed. "But I'm pretty sure B. would make an exception to his 'no killing rule' if you got sick on my watch."

Dick admired his handy work for a minute (taking dozens of pictures as he did so) before picking his brother up and heading downstairs. After a quick pitstop at the door to grab his own jacket and gloves from the coat rack, he opened the door and greeted the chilly air outside.

Danny giggled as he reached up at the snow while Dick circled around to the side of the manor.

"Bitey! Bitey!" he squealed.

"Yep, Bitey," Dick replied with mild confusion.

Danny would say random things like that sometimes, forcing the world's greatest detectives to put their minds together in order to figure out what he was talking about. One time he just wouldn't stop saying "Em". It took everyone a whole day to realize he was referring to music. And an extra two days to figure out he was specifically referring to pop music.

Oftentimes he would call Barbara "Jazzy" and Duke "Tuck". On occasion he would even call Cass "Sammy". Every time he called something a new name, it was a race to figure out what he meant. Each time they figured out a new word, Bruce's face would darken and he'd disappear off to the Watchtower for the day. Something that was really starting to drag on Dick's nerves. It was like it was physically impossible for that man to share information.

Dick was startled out of his thoughts by a tug at his jacket and looked down to see Danny staring at him.

"Sorry sorry," he said with a smile. "Lost in my thoughts. Forgive me?"

Danny put on a pout but Dick knew by now that it was fake. One could tell by the mischievous look in the boy's eyes that he just couldn't hide. "So be it then!" Dick declared before pulling Danny close and snuggling into him. The boy shrieked as cold nose touched warm neck. "Fo-give! Fo-give!" he cried.

"Aw thanks," Dick said as he pulled away. Danny giggled again, his bright blue eyes crinkling with laughter.

The pair walked around in the snow for a bit longer before Danny started making grabby hands towards the ground. "You want down?" Dick asked. Danny nodded energetically.

"Alright."

Dick carefully set Danny down in the snow. The boy excitedly wriggled before putting his hands down to the snow. As Dick watched, there was a burst of light and suddenly there was a semi circle of ice, radiating out from their position. Dick stared at the ice in shock. Danny turned and blinked up at Dick, almost as if he were in shock too. But he very quickly went back to playing in the snow. Dick swallowed. Sure they all knew Danny had powers. It was pretty obvious when the third day there, he floated up to the ceiling. Still though, he highly doubted ice powers was up there on anyone's list of "abilities our new baby brother might manifest next."

Dick was so shocked all he could manage to utter was, "Huh. That's new."

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Hi Lovely, just dropping by to say that you can totally decline weigh ins if not extremely necessary. You're a fantastic writer, you've got excellent music taste and clearly are funny at hell. Plus you can probably lift every twat nurse who tuts and scoffs at you, they shouldn't every judge you.

If you're up for it, I'd die for some NikPrice in a proper sex shop (Not a gag/gimmick one) or maybe a lil NikPrice who want to bring in a certain delightfully sassy sergeant to their dynamic.

Head up, we are all here to support you!

😊

Thank you for this, Selkie. It was a massive boost going in. So, Nikprice in a sex shop, eh? Well, obviously I had to visit Prowler to, uh, check it still looks the same as the last time I visited. Here we go...

Nik and John visit ProwlerRED in Soho as Nik helps John take those first tentative steps in exploring his sexuality.

cw: fetishwear, inexperienced and nervous sub, teasing Nikolai.

Price stood opposite the shop and stared at the giant white paw on the black banner between the ground and first floor, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat, his beanie pulled low around his ears to disguise the hot flush colouring them a deep red.

They stood at the crossroads. Passersby dipped into the gutter to get around them on their way down Old Compton Street and Price stepped back a little further as a cyclist hopped the pavement, swerving a stationary taxi that was blocked from turning into Dean Street. Price's eyes would make it to the window eventually, but first he needed to get over the road.

"We should go in," Nik said, exhaling the last breath of cigarette smoke as he ground it out under his boot. This had been his idea. He had spotted Price eyeing up some of the leathermen at the bar the previous evening, and teased his interest out of him under the duvet of their exorbitantly expensive hotel bed. It was hard to keep secrets from Nik when his hands and mouth were on ya... Some kinda witchcraft.

Price knew what leathermen were. It was impossible not to when your old man had been both a sergeant in the armed forces and a keen biker. It was a joining of the two things together; the latent homoeroticism of a career and a hobby that had been, at the time, completely male dominated. His old man had been predictably foul in his judgements of his fellow soldiers, but Price had been fascinated. He'd avoided looking too deeply at why he found them so--

Price was... he was interested, alright? Something about the way that the leather looked on a man's body; the harnesses, the jackets, the jock straps. He didn't much care for the caps or the police shirts. If he wanted to wear a cap, he'd give in to Mac's relentless naggin' and get promoted, you know, wear a cap that came with a bloody salary increase, and Peelers weren't exactly high in his esteem.

It was the smell and the texture of the leather against sweat, the slide of it across hard and soft curves as leashes and harnesses shifted, the sound of belts snapping together, watching the dominant partner haul their willing subordinate around and the responding trust. The relief and pleasure on faces that weren't covered by masks, moans muffled by gags. That looked good. Real good.

Imagining Nik's hand wound through a--

Price swallowed.

"John?"

"Hold up, I'm gettin' there. Don't rush me." Price bristled, shoulders rising up around his ears. He didn't even need to look at Nik to know what his face was doin'; Price could feel his grin like atmospheric pressure and it rankled him. "This ain't funny, Nik."

"It is funny," Nik said, arms folded across his big chest, open palm tapping his own elbow. "This is not live fire fight or hostage situation. You need to relax."

"I'm perfectly relaxed," Price said, immediately dropping his shoulders and sniffing when Nik raised his eyebrow. He bounced on his toes and coughed, aiming for nonchalant, but knew his eyes were wider than a rabbit's gazing into oncoming headlights. "See, fine."

"It is just a shop."

"I can see that."

"The owner is half your size."

"Oh yeah? You well acquainted?"

"Fairly."

"Course y'are." Price's cheeks reddened and he scrubbed a hand through his beard. "Alright. Ground rules. Nothin' that's sharp or... Let's just stick to the harness."

Nik hummed and started crossing the road. Price tried to grab his arm to get at least some verbal agreement, but Nik had already skipped up the opposite curb and was looking through the window. Price waited for a black cab to pass and then jogged over to stand at his side. He could see himself in the reflection of the window, hunkered low. "Is that a leather pig mask?"

"Da," Nik said, examining a full body harness with a metal cock ring at the groin. Price hazarded a glance at what had Nik so interested and his heart skipped a beat, his fingers curling into fists inside his pockets . Nik tapped his elbow. "Come." Price let Nik take his elbow and drag him through the door on the corner of the building, his breath held for... fuck knows what reason.

The first thing that hit him was the smell. The same smell as the bar the evening before, except without the added layer of sweat that had made his mouth water. It was sharp, clean. Behind the mannequins in the window were two railings of leather harnesses, and along the walls were racks of leather shirts and trousers. Fairly... innocuous, really. It could have been a biker's shop if it had helmets instead of masks, and less lube on the shelves.

"Hey," called a faintly accented voice from behind the counter, Price would guess Polish but Nik would get a better read. "Let me know if you need anything." She had enough metal in her mouth that kissing her would risk a stab wound, and Price found himself counting the studs when Nik cleared his throat.

"Da, thank you, we may need help with sizing."

She shrugged. "The best thing to do is try 'em on. There's a changing room round the corner," she jutted her thumb over her shoulder, "and two downstairs with the toys and bondage. Just no underwear, yeah?" With that, she turned back to untangling the pile of leather paraphernalia and hangers on the counter.

Nik seemed distracted by something on the far wall, so Price took the opportunity to examine the shelves behind the shop assistant. Aromas. A fair number of them, in fact. Price had seen a few of the lads holding them at the bar, but googling "aroma" and "disk cleaner" had yielded completely innocuous Amazon searches.

"You will not need those, solnyshko," Nik called, so Price continued to tentatively explore, hands still stuffed deep in his pockets.

His gaze wandered to a pile of flyers at the edge of the counter. "Boot blacking," Price murmured. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Da," Nik said softly, appearing at his shoulder with two harnesses in his hand. "It is a kink, but also good for repairing tired equipment."

"Fuckin 'ell, gettin' the troopers to buff their boots proper is like pullin' teeth, and these lot do it for jollies? Is he... Is he lickin' it?"

Nik chuckled and took the flyer out of Price's hand, stroking a finger over the bristles on Price's chin before twining their fingers together. "Perhaps if you put on a jock strap and licked their boots they might be more, hmm, proactive, no?"

"I'll run it by brass," Price said with a wry smirk, letting Nik pull him down the narrow staircase to the basement level.

His eyes blew wide once they'd adjusted to the dim lighting. Now that was what he had actually expected when Nik had said "fetish shop". The walls were crammed with an assortment of delightful looking torture devices from whips to gags to masks that covered everything but the mouth. There was a rack of staggeringly big silicone cocks, and Price felt the heat creeping back up his neck again at how bloody real some of them looked. And big. So fuckin' big.

He was so out of his bloody depth here.

The display case to the right of the stairs as they reached the bottom was filled with the weirdest collection of dildos he had ever seen in his life. He stooped down, hands on his knees, and peered inside. "Fuck me, that one's thicker than my thigh. Nik, there's no... Nik, come here. There's no way that fits. What the fuck is that meant to be?" He pressed his fingertip to the glass at what looked like a tentacle with little nodules all over it.

"John, here." Nik beckoned him over and Price sidled over to stand at his side, casting one final alarmed look into the display case. On the wall, there was an array of cuffs and collars, all with slightly different fastenings, studs and coloured linings. Nik took one of Price's hands and placed it on the nearest pair of cuffs, pressing against Price's back, his chin on his shoulder, palm on his belly to keep him close. "Choose."

"I thought we said just the harness..." Price murmured, but he could barely hear the words leave his own mouth, too fixated on the feel and smell of expensive leather. His toes curled in his boots as he pressed his fingers inside the circle of a cuff, slipping out the other side to nudge one of the metal links and stroke around the smooth edge of the buckle.

These weren't the laughably flimsy handcuffs Price had used previously in his, admittedly, limited sex life. The kind where the plastic broke through the cheap fur and cut your skin if you pulled too hard. Tokenisitic in their restraint. These were sturdy, unyielding; they would be completely unbreakable, even by a body like his. The thought of Nik securing Price's wrists to the headboard, working his hands down his body, made Price's damn prick twitch.

Nik nuzzled the side of his neck, bringing him back to the present, and he picked up a solid black pair like the ones he had seen on a man last night. They had a single silver loop each and a thick buckle. The leather was stiff, clean and unblemished, and Price flexed them a little in his palms. "Uh, these." His reward was a soft kiss just beneath his ear, and Nik reached a little higher to pluck the matching collar from the top row of hooks.

"Try them on, with your shirt off," Nik said. "I will wait here. Take your time." He placed the harness in Price's hands and nudged him towards the narrow changing cubicle. Price hesitated, glancing back up at the stairs and then into the shop proper. Nik placed a palm at the small of his back and pressed his nose to the side of Price's face. "It is fine. I will not allow anyone to see."

"Right, yeah..." Price ducked beneath a silk sash hanging from the railing as Nik nudged him forward. He figured if people were down here looking for a birch to take stripes out of them, seeing some battered old soldier in a leather harness wouldn't faze them too much. And that's what he told himself as he yanked the curtain across and shucked his shirt over his head.

The harness seemed to have more buckles than entirely necessary at first inspection, and he turned it over and over in his hands, checking the model on the label to work out how it should sit. It was sturdy, with silver studs and thick metal, and he felt that same throb of arousal as he handled it.

"John, is ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine, jus'... workin' it out."

In the end, Price pulled open one of the side buckles and ducked into it. The leather was chill on his skin and his nipples pulled tight as he sat the straps just above them. Once he'd fastened the buckle back in place, he glanced into the mirror through his eyebrows, hesitant.

The yellowing bruise on his ribs from the last op was beginning to fade, the scrapes all but healed into thin pink lines, and he had the usual litany of scars he was used to seeing by now.

He looked... good.

It sat well around his shoulders, framing the furred curves of his chest by sitting just above the line of his nipples, the silver d-ring between his tits. The straps beneath his arms sat just above his obliques, following the line of muscle comfortably.

Fuck, it made him look... made him look broad, strong, with his jeans belted at his narrow hips, his operation-ready athletic physique well-complemented, and he stood up a little straighter, jutting his chin. He'd expected to feel like a dog, maybe a bit demeaned, but when he flexed into the leather, heard the stiff straps creak a bit, he felt fuckin' powerful.

Next were the cuffs. He wrapped them around each wrist, turning them around until the silver rings sat on the top and the buckles beneath. The lining was slightly padded, lending to a snug fit.

"How does it feel?" Nik asked, close to the curtain.

"Yeah, s'nice. Like, uh, it fits well."

Price grabbed the collar and then pushed the curtain aside a bit, his eyes fixed on the floor as he felt the heat creeping up his neck again. He heard Nik's breath catch and then a soft curse whispered in awestruck Russian.

"Not bad, right?" Price asked, trying for cocksure but coming out shy.

Nik said nothing. He took the collar from Price's hand and wrapped it carefully around his neck, using his forefinger to stop the leather biting as he threaded the strap through. The moment it pulled tight enough for Price to feel it, he let out a soft gasp, his hands lifting to latch onto Nik's wrist, a sudden panic beating a little harder in his chest.

"Easy, solnyshko," Nik said gently, leaning in to kiss him. Price's grip relaxed, and he drew in a shaky breath. Nik took his hands. "Here, let me show you how it would feel with your wrists secure. If you feel unsafe, you must tell me, da?"

"Is... Is anyone down here?"

"Nyet. We are alone."

"Ye-yeah, right... Yeah." Price swallowed as Nik moved his arms behind his back, lifting each wrist until he could attach the cuffs to the d-ring at the back of the harness. When Nik was done, he stepped back, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the shop as he appraised the man before him.

"Krasivyy..." Nik said, reaching to lift Price's chin from where it was tilted down. John kept his head up as Nik's hands roamed his body, following the line of the leather straps over his clavicles to his upper chest, leaving goosebumps of pleasure in his wake.

Price watched Nik's eyes darken with desire and felt like the hottest piece of arse this side of the Thames; he flexed cheekily into the straps and Nik's lips twitched. The control in this wasn't so clear cut, was it? Price had assumed he'd be the one under the boot, but watching Nik's reaction made it clear he had more power than he'd assumed. Nik was enraptured, his arousal clear in the heated caress of his palms and fingers.

Price wanted to lean into his hands, arch like a damn cat. His stomach pulled tight as Nik stroked just above his nipples, following the line of the harness beneath his arms and making him flex and shiver. It was too much, too sensitive, and he let out a soft, strangled noise, squirming as heat gathered in his hips. He couldn't stop Nik from touching him, couldn't push his hands away, and that made his blood run south, hot and urgent. "Mm, Nik... Please... I..."

"You are... breath taking like this," Nik said, lifting a hand to hook the collar and draw Price to him. The experience of being drawn to Nik's chest like that, having to trust those strong arms would catch him, made Price groan softly. He buried his face into Nik's neck, arching only when Nik's hands swept down his back, gently stroking the burn scars at the base before dropping lower to squeeze his arse. "If I could, I would have you here."

"Fuck," Price breathed, grinding forward to feel the hard line of Nik's cock. "Guess we're buyin' this then..."

"Da, and one or two other things."

"Nik."

"Nothing sharp. Nothing to hurt you, John. I promise."

"You could never hurt me." Price had never been so certain of anything in his life.

Nik took the back of the harness and pulled Price away from him, lifting his chin so their eyes met. "This is important. So listen," Nik said. "Sometimes hurt is not physical pain in this. It can be feeling unsafe, it can be feeling too overwhelmed. I may push too far, and you must be honest with me."

Nik looked so serious and Price could only nod, the corners of his eyes crinkling with affection. Fuck, Nik cared about him so fuckin' much and it made Price's heart feel all kinds of warm. "So, what... We, uh, we need safe words and the like?" He flashed a lopsided grin and Nik kissed him on the forehead with a low chuckle.

"Da. We will discuss. Now, get dressed. I wish to get you back to the hotel."

"Yes, sir."

"John..."

"Sorry, couldn't help it."

"If you wish to call me sir in our bedroom, then I would not be opposed."

"Bet you fuckin' wouldn't..."

"I see you are going to be, what to say... a brat." Nik swatted Price's arse before he undid the cuffs from the back of the harness and drew the curtain across.

Price almost felt sad about taking the harness off, savouring the phantom sensation of it on his skin even when he pulled his t-shirt and coat back on. He lingered in the cubicle, squeezing his prick through his jeans with a grimace, and only re-emerged once it had calmed enough to be bloody discreet.

Nik was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. He was holding a coil of rope, a leash and what looked to be an anal toy of some kind. "It is remote control," Nik said with a roguish little smirk when he saw Price looking, before jogging up the stairs.

"Bloody 'ell," Price breathed, following behind him.

Nik flashed the plastic and purchased the lot, despite Price fumbling through his coat for his wallet. "This is treat for me," Nik said when Price glared at him, plucking the opaque black bags from the counter.

"'M worried what I've unleashed here," Price replied once Nik had thanked the assistant and they were heading for the door.

"Ah, I believe it is I that have leashed you, no?"

"Ha-fucking-ha, corny bastard."

Nik grabbed John's hand and looked far too proud of himself, his smile so bright and handsome that Price's heart felt light. He didn't let go of Price's hand as they strolled back towards the station, and Price felt his heart swell as he glanced down at their intertwined fingers, his lower lip between his teeth.

Today was a day of firsts: his first visit to a bloody sex shop, and the first time in his life he had ever held a lover's hand, head up, chest out, as he walked down the street. When in London, eh?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Checking His List

Warnings: stalker behaviour and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: Your shopping trip turns hectic.

Character: Curtis Everett

Day Twenty-Eight of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - the mall is packed and we keep running into each other.

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

While it’s below zero outside, inside the mall, the air is sweltering. The flurry of maddened shoppers searching for gifts churns the air with body heat and a wall of noise. You want to cover your airs and shrink down to nothing. You hate crowds but you have a list and you made a promise. 

You laid it all out meticulously. You have a strategy but you’re not sure how much that will help given the furor all around. You set off to the first store on your list. The toys will be a lovely surprise at the community lunch. You know the kids won’t be getting much at home. 

You squint at the paper. You made notes of Diana’s every specification. She’s very particular but you imagine that’s why she runs the children’s centre. 

You look up as you approach the east entrance of the department store, just in time to avoid another shopper. You stutter step and back up as you wait for the man to pass. You only realise then that he isn’t moving. He’s standing entirely still amidst the crowds, though it might only be because he saw you about to crash into him. 

“Oh, sorry,” you murmur, not sure he can hear you above the Christmas carols and rowdy shoppers. 

He doesn’t reply, doesn’t react. You hesitate and step around him, issuing another apology as your stress burns even hotter. You’re really no good with the general public, worse in peak hours, and you’ve only just gotten started. 

You don’t come here often. It takes you some time to get situated and find the right aisle. Oh, those are the art sets she wanted, and the Barbies. Hum, they don’t have many within budget. Oh, and the little cars. Those are cute. 

You push your cart, only an inch before you rear back, only then seeing the man standing further down the aisle. You’re not sure you need anything else there, still you might like to check if you can limit how many stores you need to run around to.  

The man doesn’t look at you, he doesn’t even really seem to be looking at the shelves. He’s just sort of there. Then, before you can muster an ‘excuse me’ or anything, he turns and marches off. The way he walks is stiff and straight and staunch. 

As you slowly roll forward and refocus on your list, he sticks in your head. Do you know him? There was something familiar about him? Could he be one of the parents from the children’s centre? Would he be here if he was? 

You peruse and find the selection lacking. You head for the checkout and wait patiently. The line zigzags around shelves of more merchandise, shoppers continuing their spending even as they wait to get their grand total. You peer around dully, unseeingly, until a dark spec catches your eye. 

It’s that man again. The same one from the aisle. His face is unreadable. He wears a beanie and a grey jacket that should help him blend in but for whatever reason, he sticks out. 

He’s look at you? Is he? 

You crane to see behind you. The sign calls out the next available till. It’s your turn. You peek back again but the man is gone. You’re paranoid. That's all. 

You go up and unload your cartful and unfold a reuseable bag. You grabbed only your biggest bags for today. You expect it will be an awkward journey home with all this. You pay with the company card Diana lent you and neatly fold away the receipt. 

You’re certain to leave your cart in the pen meant for them and head out the west exit. It’s closer to your next stop. The bath and body store is fragrant, the air so dense with aroma that it makes your head foggy. 

You buy the cute little bottles for kids; the bubble baths and seasonal candy cane scents. A mini scrubbie for each too. As you put it all in the small basket offered to you by an associate, you look up to the tight corner ahead of you. 

A mother and daughter browse the floral assortment of candles and behind them, a man stands, undistracted by the shelves and tables of product. He watches you. Your eyes meet and you wince. It’s him! That’s so strange.  

It’s one thing to keep running into the same person. It happens in a mall, but you haven’t seen him buy one thing. You haven’t even seen him look at a single purchase. 

You turn and curl around the other side of the table of 3 for $15 candles. The checkout line is twice as long as the previous one. As hike up the bags from the department store. Why did you, the only person without a car, offer to do this? Well, for once, you wanted to feel useful. 

You sense movement. A group of girls flutter up behind you, gabbing about if they should get coffee or just go look at shoes next as they get in line behind you. Then another shadow. Darker. Taller. 

The man passes closely and stops right by you. Your heart is racing. It’s not him, it’s the crowd, the smothering press of people looking for soaps and lotions and candle melts. 

He bends and reaches for something on the floor. He brings up the soap bottle with the reindeer antlers and holds it out. It must have slipped out. You accept it from him with a thanks. These baskets aren’t great for the smaller items. 

He’s already walking away before you can get a look at his face. His grey blue eyes are stamped in your mind but the rest of him remains obscure. You shake away the odd encounter and shuffle forward with the line. 

You tuck the smaller bag of soaps and such into one of your bigger bags and continue on once free of the shop. You don’t expect the dollar store to be an easy task, but a necessary one. You need wrap and few smaller stocking stuffers. It won’t be your last stop but it’s closeby and you don’t want to double back if you can help it. 

You pause to check your list as you sidle out of the way of the dollar store entrance. Alright, that, that, that... You lift your head and push the small cart through the first row. It’s nice to have the weight off your arms, but you’ll have to pick all that up again. And more. 

As you come to end of the first aisle, the foot of the cart rams to a halt. You squeak and look up. That man! His hands clamp onto the end of the cart and you blink. 

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to.” 

He just stares and looks past you. He steps around the cart and as he comes along the side, you shrink down, shying away as you expect the worst. Instead, he inserts himself between you and the cart you hear rolling down after you. He stays there, a barrier between you and the unseen shopper. That’s... strange. 

You scurry on frantically. You’re jittering from it all. The man, the hordes, the assault of lights and noise. You need to get out of her soon. 

You get as much gift wrap and bags as you need and use the self-checkout. You’re grateful for that modern convenience. Your social wick is burning short. 

You park your cart, take your bags, and go. As you emerge into the mall, a man walks full force into you, his wife narrowly missing you with her baby stroller. Neither of them apologise as you struggle not to topple. You lift the bags higher with all your strength and forge forward. 

You go to the end of the bench where a few teen boys sit with their skateboards. You turn your back to them and face the mall map. You take a deep breath and hold it in. You’re about to crack. This was a big mistake. You’re barely strong enough to go get groceries on a given week. You just wanted to help! That’s why you volunteer with the kids, even if you mostly hide in the background. 

Your eyes are glassy as you fight back tears. You release your breath slowly. It hurts. The panic attack needles hotly in your forehead and ears. 

“Scram,” the deep voice cuts through the hubbub and the snap of dry fingers adds the punctuation. 

The boys behind you quiet and you turn your head to watch over your shoulder as they grab their boards and hurry away. The man in the beanie sits, knees wide, and leans his elbows on his legs. He curls his shoulders and looks around like a guard dog. 

Your skin tingles as you sit only a few feet from him. You should go too, before you lose all your nerve. Your bags crinkle as you hook the handles around your hands. 

“You don’t gotta go,” he says. 

You wince and turn to him. He keeps his gaze aimed at the closest store. You peer around. 

“Busy,” he comments. 

“Um, yes it is,” you agree. “Thanks, er, I got more to get.” 

You gulp and turn away. Your bags hit the bench as you flee. That was weird too. Or maybe you’re just unbearably clueless. It seems like he was trying to give you space. That he chased away those boys deliberately. But why? 

Flavoured lip glosses, sparkly nail polishes, socks themed for the most popular kids’ shows... you check the marks off your list in your final haul. Just one more thing. A few of the boys like to play knights but the foam swords are all whittling away from play. 

You go down the next aisle, your cart doing little to part the sea of people. You can see what you need. The toy blades and even a few shields. You try to inch forward as an older man turns to the other shelf, but another woman fills the space before you can. 

You wheel back and wait. You just need to get in and out. The woman finally moves and as you go to roll ahead, another cart noses into yours and squeezes into the space. You sniff and pull back again. 

You stare helplessly. That wasn’t very polite but she doesn’t seem to notice. She takes out her phone and ignores you and the shelves. Is she even looking? 

“Hey,” the gritty voice chills you as a large hand rests on the front of your cart. The man in the beanie steps between you and that woman, “you should apologise.” 

“Huh? What?” She keeps her phone up but you can’t see much else. 

“You hit her with your cart. Say sorry.” 

“Who? What are you talking about?” 

“Apologise,” he peels his hand form the cart and jabs his thumb toward you without looking. 

The woman huffs then leans to see you. You give a hapless shrug. Her eyes scan up the man’s dark jacket and she shifts. 

“I-- I didn’t realise,” she clears her throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” 

“Maybe if you cared more about what’s going on than your phone,” the man snarls, looming over her until she backs away. She turns and grabs her cart, nearly hitting another as she rushes away. 

He lets go and turns back, marching past you without a word. You can’t speak either. You’re burnt out. You’re going to get the last of it and go. 

You finally get your turn and grab a couple of swords, each with a different colour handle, and some shields. You put it in your cart and circle the perimeter of the store to avoid the claustrophobic aisles. The checkout line however cannot be avoided. 

You step into the narrow snaking lane where you are to wait your turn. As you lean on your cart, there’s a brush against your back, and another, and another. The garble of voices behind you drone with the rest of the overwhelming noises all around. You sink your head down and cover your ears. You can’t take it anymore. 

You’re jostled again as a man laughs loudly and his elbow jabs your back. You gasp and turn to see what’s going on. A black shape moves decisively from the back of the line, cutting along the edge without falter.  

The man in the beanie steps up and extends his arm between you and the man after you, the one who keeps knocking into you. He pushes him calmly away and inserts himself there, back to you as he crosses his arms and plants his feet wide. 

“Hey, dude, you’re butting--” 

“Pay attention,” the man growls. “You’re being a nuisance.” 

“Dude, I’m waiting--” 

“You’re bothering people. Too loud.” 

“Whatever. You a cop or some shit?” 

The man doesn’t answer. He doesn’t move either. Even as the line ahead of you does. You roll with it and he keeps his barrier in place. You can’t help but be thankful for the unrequested buffer. 

You pay, get your receipt, fill up your last bag, and push your cart into the corral by the door. You’re not going back through the mall.

Before you can back up, another shopper shoulders by and snatches the cart you just disposed. You stagger back and watch, dumbfounded. What is wrong with people? 

Your ears are ringing and your eyes watering, and you didn’t factor in being physically battered by a shopping trip. This time of year is horrid. It’s chaos. People are animals. Just like you always knew. 

Your arms strain as you clutch your bags and make a slow progress through the automatic doors. You just need to get to the bus. You stop just to the left of the doors and try to adjust your grasp. 

Before you can, the weight is lifted and something rough brushes around your fingers. You are too stunned to resist as the bags are unhooked from your hands. You reel around and face the thief. You’re an easy target. 

“Where’s your car?” It’s that man in his beanie, with the grey eyes and the dark stubble. 

“I-- I don’t--- Who are you?” 

“A good samaritan,” he rasps.  

“You don’t have to--” You reach for the bags and he steps out of your reach. “I don’t have a car.” 

He stares at you, “I can walk you.” 

“It’s fine, the bus stop---” you nod towards the street. 

“Bus...” he mutters. “Dangerous. With all this.” 

“It’s fine,” you insist. 

“I have a truck. I’ll drive you.” 

“You don’t-- why?” You sputter. 

He looks around. He’s quiet as his eyes scan the area. “Merry Christmas.” It’s not a very cheery tiding. 

“Oh, but--” 

“Curtis,” he says. 

“What?” 

“So we’re not strangers. I’m Curtis, and you?” 

You heave and give your name. “I really can’t let you do all that--” 

“But I’m going to,” he says and turns away. You have no choice but to follow him. 

“Wait--” 

“I don’t like crowds either,” he intones as you scurry to keep up with him. 

You want to say you don’t think anyone does but you’re still reeling, as much from the hectic experience in the mall as from his sudden act of... kindness? 

He stops behind a slate gray truckbed and slips the bags onto his wrist. He fishes in his pocket and there’s a loud click as it unlocks. He pulls open the back and loads your shopping under the heavy cover. 

“You have a lot of kids?” He wonders. 

You shake your head, “I work at the community centre. Volunteer, actually...” 

He nods and shuts the back of the truck. You wring your hands shakily and stare at the silver lock. You frown and look up at him, finding him staring at you already. 

“You don’t trust me,” he reaches into his jacket and takes out a canister. “Well, if I make a wrong move, press down.” 

He holds out the long black spray can. You shake your head. What is it? 

“Bear mace. You can keep it.” 

You furrow your brow and continue to gape at the inexplicable offer. Why does he have this? 

“Can never be too safe,” he takes your hand and places the can in it. “Make sure those toys get back safe for those kids.” 

You wrap your fingers around the metal and he lets you go. You look down at it then at him again. You’re so confused but too tired to argue. You suppose it is the season for giving, even if he doesn’t seem the festive type. 

“Anywhere else you need to go?” He asks as he takes his keys out. 

You shake your head and back away. He watches you for a moment before he moves himself. He walks up on side of the truck and you the other. The door locks thunk loudly. 

Well, whoever Curtis is, can he be any worse than the general holiday shopper? 

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

That's My Man

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~500

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Spencer gets a haircut and you have a most pleasant reaction to it.

Square Filled: holidays (2023) for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

It’s been an entire month since you’ve seen your boyfriend but he’s back now. He spent Christmas and New Years with his mother back in Las Vegas while you stayed with your family in Virginia. You two are still so new that you haven’t had the chance to meet his family, and you weren't going to let your first meeting be the holidays.

If and when you’re going to do it, you want to do it right.

While the holidays might be over, the snow is still coming down in waves, making this a white winter. Snow is probably your favorite kind of weather because you get to create angels and snowmen and forts and anything else you want. You want to do that and go ice skating with Spencer tomorrow when the sun is out but for right now, you’re going to have a movie marathon.

He’s staying over for the entire weekend and you can’t be more excited than you are right now.

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice comes from the front hallway. The door opens to face a solid wall fifteen feet from the door. To the left is the kitchen and to the right is the living room. “I’m here!”

You gave him a key pretty early on because you already knew he was the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. It’s one of those things where you just know. You love him so much and you don’t want to waste any time with him.

“In here!” you call from the right. Spencer shrugs off his jacket and hangs it on the hook in front of him before closing and locking the door. He walks into the living room and you turn to greet him when a confused frown sits on your face. “Why are you wearing a beanie?”

Spencer hates hats. He doesn’t like the feel of them or how he looks in them. Why is he wearing a beanie? He hasn’t all winter.

“I don’t know. I liked how it looked on me.”

“Mmhmm.” You get up and walk over to him. “Now what’s the real reason?” He looks shy as if he’s embarrassed to tell you. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine. Just… don’t laugh, okay?”

“Okay.”

He takes off his beanie and your jaw practically drops to the floor. He messes with his hair to make it look good but you’re fixed on that the fact that he got a haircut. He doesn't have long curly hair anymore. It’s short and slightly spiked. There are longer pieces in the front but he’s cut it all off.

God fucking damn. He looks so goddamn fine.

“Please say something,” he sighs, unable to take the silence anymore.

“Oh, my God.” He lowers his head knowing you must hate it. “Look at my man!” He snaps his head up as a slight blush creeps up his neck. “Damn, you look so good! Is that Spencer Reid? My gorgeous man?”

“Okay, stop,” he smiles, blushing profusely. You jump into his arms and kiss his face all over, and he tips his head back and laughs. “Okay, okay, okay!”

You pull away with a loving smile and keep your arms wrapped around his neck.

“You look very handsome.”

“Thank you,” he smiles.

Choosing you has got to be the best thing he could have ever done for himself.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 21] || [Chapter 22.5] || [Chapter 23]

Pairing: Ghost x Price || Price x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.8K cw: drunk kissing, cheating (mentioned) Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: we find out what happened in cardiff. i love vulnerable john.

Chapter 22: What is it about you?

“C’mon, Boss, up you go.” Simon told him as he hoisted the man up to his feet by wrapping an arm around the small of his back, and tossing the other over his own shoulders.

“I don’t know how she could do that to me, Simooooon,” John’s words and feet dragged a bit and tripped over each other, uncoordinated due to the excess alcohol.

John was constantly self-sabotaging back then, feeling sorry for himself, mourning his relationship and the wife who took advantage of his common absences to justify her need to step out on him.

When John was sober and busy with work, he was still the same as always: deadly efficient, a good communicator, a great strategist…

But when they went on leave…

It left Simon having to be the one picking up the pieces. Simon’s moved to Cardiff from Manchester many years ago, not quite enjoying Hereford enough to want an off-base flat in the same city as the base, and, now that he’s separated, John’s also moved to Cardiff to stay on Simon’s couch.

Or it would be his couch if he didn’t get pissed every night and leave Simon fearing for his life and the fact he might vomit and suffocate in it in the night, so he carries him to bed every time. The bed might as well have been John’s at that point.

Somehow he was able to wrangle John back to his flat.

He helped the man get into his bedroom and lowered him into bed before he pulled off the beanie from his head, then his boots, tossing his legs onto the bed a bit aggressively while the captain sobbed while lying back on the pillows…

“You’ll be alright, Captain.” Simon always tried to say some kind words to ease the drunk, heartbroken man, though he knew it did little.

Simon was strangely thankful Price was a sad drunk instead of an angry or violent one like his own father.

Simon bent over him to unzip his jacket and then was able to curl the man up against his shoulder in order to shimmy his jacket down his arms, like a toddler.

But something about that touch, almost akin to a hug, awoke something in John.

Just as he lowered the older man’s torso down to the bed and his head onto the pillows, he suddenly found himself unable to move, his shoulders being hugged tight by one of John’s arms.

His face was inches from John’s, their noses almost touching, their eyes locked. John’s blue irises were glassy from the alcohol and the tears.

The look in John’s eyes was freaking him out. He was still crying, but he was eerily quiet, not murmuring utter nonsense or pure vitriol for his wife and her lover…

The Mancunian tried to slip John’s arms off him. “C’mon.” He grumbled as he craned his neck back to try and wrangle off the embrace.

“Stay…” John pleaded, his eyes softening, his brows lowered pitifully.

“I’m right here, Boss.” Simon assured him as he once again tried to take Price’s arm off his vise-like grip around him.

It didn’t work. The grip just got tighter, his body trembling beneath Simon’s. “Please, stay...” He implored.

Before Simon could realize what was happening, his lips had been captured by John’s, a slow, tender thing, almost like John himself wasn’t 100% sure of what he was doing (and he really wasn’t) but wanted to do it nonetheless.

There was no tongue action, just a rubbing of lips and an exchanging of breathy sighs before Simon was smart enough to pull away, eyes a bit widened for what they had just done. 

But Price seemed like he was still on the verge of crying, teetering the edge of his fear of being rejected again. He just needed affection....

Simon’s own eyes softened as he saw the state Price was in. He took a deep breath and pressed his lips together. Giving up on getting out of the embrace, he simply nodded. “Fine. I’m stayin’.”

Carefully, Simon toed off his own shoes and took off his fleece jacket. He tossed everything on the floor haphazardly, before he shifted around the bed in John’s embrace and vaulted over him, coming to lay on the other side of the bed.

John cuddled up to Simon’s body and, tentatively, the blond wrapped his arms around Price’s shoulders and neck as the brunet sunk in the embrace and hid his mustachioed face in Simon’s neck, big burly arms wrapped around the narrower part of his waist.

Price resumed his sobbing, hidden in Simon’s arms, hugging him uncomfortably tight, like a lifeguard buoy in open water. 

Simon ran his fingers over John’s hair, caressing his scalp with his fingertips. “Not going anywhere, John, I promise.” Simon assured him.

-

It’s 10 P.M. and you’re just turning off your TV to move your lounging to the bedroom when the doorbell rings.

Once again, you’re not expecting anyone… But the lads have gotten much better at warning you in advance when they’re dropping by… So it puts you on edge again.

Tip-toeing to the intercom, you murmur into the receiver. “What?”

“It’s John, darling.” The voice of the older man comes through, causing your eyes to widen. What’s he doing here? 

You buzz him in all the same. Only once you hear his knuckles rapping the door, do you open it, finding him standing on the other side.

He’s wearing an army green fleece jacket, a black hoodie, tan cargo pants, and black boots. And he doesn’t look particularly happy.

You let him inside and he has the decency to take off his boots, jacket and beanie, before he gestures you both onto the couch.

The memory of the way he kissed you and tossed you both down onto it last time he was here comes flowing back and you look away and take a breath to suppress it.

“The lads told me about the four of you” He tells you as he looks at you, sitting by your side, your knees just barely brushing, his hands clasped together and hanging between his thighs.

“They did?” You ask him, earning a nod in reply. “You didn’t know this whole time?” You ask again.

“No.” He says simply. “And they didn’t tell you I tore ‘em a new one for what they’re doing?” He returns. 

You shake your head, which makes him sigh. “Figured as much.”

“You need to know that-”

“I promise I don’t-”

You both cut each other off and blink away the confusion before you do that weird shimmy of trying to let the other talk.

He ends up taking the initiative. “You need to know that it’s puttin’ ‘em all at risk to be seein’ you and each other, especially each other. Simon’s my second-in-command… and it’s against the code of conduct for ‘em to be with their ‘boss’.” He explains.

His explanation makes your eyes soften and you look away with a sigh, mirroring his pose and letting your hands hang between your legs. “I didn’t know it’d get ‘em in trouble…” You explain.

Taking another deep breath, you shift around in your seat. “I was about to say I promise I don’t want to get them in trouble or steal them from work or making you have to call like… dozens of times again to get them to come in, because I know that was bad, even if it was an accident but-” You rant a bit.

John’s watching you closely as you justify yourself and them and promise you have the best of intentions, how you like them all so much and you could never dream of getting them in trouble and…

“What is it about you?” He interrupts you, causing you to face him suddenly and stare at him.

“Pardon?” You ask him, blinking slowly before raising your brows.

“Why… Why them? All of them?” He asks.

Your face scrunches a bit, your brow setting over your eyes. “Are you trying to insult me? That feels insulting.” You grumble.

He sighs and shakes his head, before rubbing his eyes with his middle finger. “No. I- I’m sorry.” He says as earnestly as he can. “Just trying to understand.”

“Some people have a thing for men in uniform but that means they date multiple of ‘em across a number of years… They don’t usually form a… harem with ‘em all at once.” He explains.

The idea of a harem makes your face flush warm and look away. “I don’t know.” You reply directly. “Maybe there’s just something wrong with me.” You say directly. 

John keeps staring at you as you speak. “I went from a very unfulfilling relationship, I don’t know if I ever mentioned that to you-”

“You did, at the pub.”

“Right, well…” You trail off. “I went from that to… being alone… and then to having a one-night stand with you and then… it was like I woke up one day and had three boyfriends.” You remark and scratch your arm awkwardly.

John’s face scrunches, his mouth disappearing beneath his mustache as he keeps looking at you closely, noticing how awkward you seem. 

“I really don’t want to get them in trouble…” You tell him as you glance up at him, the corners of your eyebrows lowering as you look at him.

He goes quiet for a moment, simply making eye contact with you, as if trying to read your intentions through your pupils.

Then, his hand reaches across the space between you and he gently cups both your hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “You really like ‘em all, don’t you?”

“Mhm.” You reply and nod.

Sighing, he nods. “Just try to keep from kissing in public to a minimum, will ya? Don’t need the brass knowing and having my arse too.” He tells you.

Smiling and chuckling again. “Wouldn’t you, in that case, be in more trouble because you started this whole thing?” You joke.

He nudges your thigh with his knee and rolls his eyes playfully. “Don’t you start, too… I already had to deal with Soap, Gaz and Ghost making comments.” He complains.

“Oh, please… Ghost told me all about how peppy you seemed after that night you spent with me.” You retort and he rolls his eyes again before he taps his thighs with his palms and stands up off the couch.

“I needed it. Did me good.” He replies as he moves back to the door and puts his shoes on.

You follow after him, watching him closely as he puts his outdoor clothes back on. “Did me good too.” You reply.

He chuckles a bit. “Oh, trust me, darlin’, I remember fully well how ‘good’ I did you.” He jokes and winks at you.

“Oh, shut it…” You grumble as you watch him open your door and stand just outside of it, looking at you closely.

“Shame it’ll never happen again. I could’ve used a repeat.” John quips casually. “Have a goodnight.” He kisses your temple and starts walking down the hall.

“Wait, hold on!” You interrupt him, causing him to stop a few feet away, looking at you in the brightly lit hall. Clearing your throat, you swallow dryly before you lock eyes with him and speak again: “What’s stopping it from happening again?”

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

FLASHBACK FULLY INSPIRED BY:

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[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

TERRITORIAL. | Pretty Baby

Who would've known that the big bad wolf isn't actually all that bad?

Tags/Warnings: Punk!Jungkook, Wolf!Jungkook, Good girl!Reader, Dom!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, Corruption kink, strangers to crushes to lovers, Fluff, Adult themes

Length: uuuh long idk

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Strawberry milk is your favorite.

It's always been a comfort thing for you- just like certain snacks or fabrics make you feel comforted, strawberry milk gives you that little bit of extra braveness at night after work has ended to finally make your way back home into the safety of your apartment.

But tonight, it's a bit different. Tonight, there's a group of vamps outside, clearly trying to agitate the wolves who've been ruling the streets for a while now.

It's not actual gang-behavior. They're not actively fighting or anything, there's never any guns or other violence involved- at least not on the surface. Underground, you're sure this must be a different story- but on the streets, the wolves play the tune everyone else dances to- the vamps only occasionally trying to provoke something, which never actually happens.

But that doesn't mean it won't tonight. Maybe tonight's the night it'll escalate.

And on nights like this, you sometimes feel like moving into the big city was a big mistake too, because this seems so normal to everyone else around you.

Back home in your little town, there wasn't anything like this at night. People would go to bed at reasonable times, you'd know every neighbor by name and house number, and you never had to fear going home alone. But here, things are different. Here, things are a lot more dangerous, especially as nothing but a human with no connection to either group.

You kind of want to stay neutral- even if, deep down, you feel more drawn towards the wolves with their more laid back approach to life.

Outside the small convenience store, you throw away the empty bottle of strawberry milk, before you reluctantly make a few steps- looks from a few vampires immediately making you retreat however, pulling out your phone to appear occupied. You can hear them snickering amongst each other already, laughing and talking, making comments about you.

You can't do this, fuck that.

You look around a little, when you notice someone from the nearby wolves looking back at you- a young man, golden eyes a tell-tale sign of what he is, as he sits on his bike that's perched up on it's kickstand. He's watching you, but not in an intimidating way- he's more so calculating it seems like, scanning the situation before he looks towards a friend nearby, who nods, some others nodding as well as they move closer.

He's got his hands in the pockets of his jacket, beanie hiding the slightly faded blue-ish strands of hair. Everyone of the tiny group appears relaxed and non-threatening. But there's a certain confidence in them that intimidates you a little as they walk closer.

That is, until he smiles at you-

and his black tail behind him wags, swaying from side to side.

"Alright guys, can we make some space here for the lady to pass through?" He asks towards the group of Vamps, who laugh, before they reluctantly make space for you to walk. The young man carefully moves to walk a little behind you, the other's shielding you just as much on the side that's turned towards the blood-dependent human variants. It just confirms to you that yeah, you're definitely more drawn towards wolves.

"There we go. Is your home far?" The young wolf asks, still keeping a respectful distance towards you.

"Uh.. no, not really." You deny, and he nods. "Thanks, by the way." You bow to him and his friends politely, everyone just waving it off- though you can see all their tails swaying a little. It's honestly.. cute, if they didn't all look like they could probably break your neck at a moment's notice.

But they don't. Instead, they all agree to your request to walk home now by yourself, and let you go-

though you can feel one person's eyes on you for a little longer, and when you turn around, he smiles that smile again.

A smile that's just.. genuine.

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You meet him again the day after at the convenience store, though he's sporting a fresh scratch on the top of his cheekbone. He doesn't seem to be in too much pain as he spots you however, having just bought your typical strawberry courage to go home tonight. "Do you always work this long?" He wonders, and you nod, sitting down next to him at the narrow table at the windows of the small store. He's been eating something, bowl now empty though, faint redness on his lips the last remnant of his meal.

"What happened?" You ask, pointing to your own cheek, when he seems surprised, touching his own before hissing at the sting. "No don't touch it-" You whine, before you look for something in your bag, opening another, smaller, makeup bag. "here- or... do you want me to help?" You wonder, making him nod and lean forward with a faint smile on his lips, hands holding onto the chair he's sitting on between his legs as he closes his eyes so you don't feel watched.

As you clean up the scratch and put a bandaid on, you kind of have to think about the fact that he seems awfully.. less threatening than you thought he'd be, considering he's a wolf from the big city. But maybe the one's you know from the smaller towns are just.. a little too full of themselves, pride getting the best of them.

"Oh-" You suddenly say, noticing the little cartoon fish on the bandaid you just placed on his cheek.

"What, 'oh'?" He wonders back, and you hold out another bandaid to him so he can take a look.

"I'm sorry, I didn't- I forgot I only have those…" You mumble a bit caught off guard by your own actions. But he just laughs, giving it back to you with a smile and shake of his head.

"It's fine- they're cute!" He simply shrugs, not bothered by it at all. "Thanks." He offers, tail swaying behind him. "So- can I ask what you work as?" He wonders, and you nod, putting your stuff back into your bag.

"Just data management. It's pretty boring." You shrug to yourself. "But I can work by myself and I like that." You explain, zipping your bag shut before you look at him again. "Although.. I might have to get myself maybe a dog, when I go home at night. A big, scary looking one you know? But they've got to be nice so I can bring them into the office with me.." You mumble, drinking the last of your milk as he turns his body to face more openly to you again, a playful smirk on his lips.

"How about I'll be your big bad dog then, huh?" He flirts, tail swinging side to side behind him. "Though I'm probably not allowed in the office.." He laughs, especially when you roll your eyes and still smile at his joking attempt at flirting. It was a joke.. right?

"Ha-ha." You say because of that, though he just widens his eyes, feigning innocence.

"Hey I'm serious!" He offers, leaning a bit closer. "I could take you home every night- and if I can't, someone of my pack could do the job instead."

"I- I'm probably not even gonna stay in the city for too long." You sigh, playing with the fluffy pom-pom ball attached to your bag. "I don't like it here very much.. it's too.. I don't know. I don't belong here.." You mumble.

"Maybe you've simply not seen the good parts of the city." He shrugs. "I could show you some."

"And by some you mean your bedroom?" You sigh, looking at him with a bit of an attitude- and he can't help but be intrigued by that little hint of spice you seem to have, underneath your pretty visuals and rather introverted appearance.

"If you'd like to visit, the door's always open for a pretty girl like you." he purrs, and at that, you clearly turn shy. "..And I don't ever open that door for anyone but myself, typically." He adds on, and at that, you look back at him, searching for the deeper meaning of that statement-

and you seem to find it, in the warmth of his eyes and the slight redness to his ears.

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"Have you ever been a backpack before?" Jungkook asks, as he waits outside of your apartment, one helmet on his bike and the other in his hand.

"Uh.. no-" you say, honestly never having heard the phrase.

"Would you like to try?" He asks, motioning towards his bike, holding out the helmet. "Got this one from a packmate. Should fit you." He says, black and grey tail wagging as you take it somewhat reluctantly. "And I'll drive extra careful too." He says, helping you put on the helmet properly before his hands adjust the strap under your chin.

"What if I fall off?" You worry, but he just laughs, putting on his own helmet. You notice that his hair seems freshly dyed- nor black.

"Not if you hold on to me." He explains, sitting on the bike after putting up the kickstand. "Hop on- I'll keep it stable." He reassures you, as you somewhat awkwardly climb onto the back of his bike. Only when his hands pull yours around his middle do you notice he's only really keeping you both and the bike stable with his feet alone.

And it makes you wonder how strong he might be.

"There we go. You'll figure things out as we go, trust me." He chuckles, small speakers in his head connected to his own too so you can talk properly. "Good to go?" Be asks, and you nod-

That is until his bike roars to life, and you instinctively cling onto him for dear life as he turns to drive off onto the main road.

He laughs. You're not sure what's so funny.

"Oh look at Jungkookies new passenger princess!" Someone jokes suddenly over the speaker, and you look around just to find three people on bikes as well at the same red light.

"Nervous?" Another voice asks, and Jungkook growls a little in front of you.

"You're making her nervous, hyung!" He complains, making the stranger's laugh. "Don't worry, they just want to mess with me.." he mumbles towards you, hand squeezing yours for a little in comfort.

"Yeah of course, after all Jungkook's finally all grown up!" The first voice laughs. "Finally up for an actual relationship now, fuckboy?" He asks, and at that, you grow a bit nervous.

Fuckboy? Relationship?

Just who is Jungkook really? You've got no idea. Sure, you've texted over the past few days, but you basically know nothing about him. He could just try and get into your pants, maybe that's his whole thing- maybe he likes them innocent and stupid to have a quick fuck and then drop them again. With looks like his that must be easy.

You're easy.

"Please don't listen to them, they're just assholes-" He tries to explain as the light finally turns green, but you're quiet, and Jungkook has a feeling that something's wrong. "You okay?" He asks occasionally, but you just nod and move on, not really up for talking anymore. He just wants to screw you anyways. Maybe he really is just a big city wolf down the line.

The scenery is nice, but you don't really feel like enjoying it too much as you just want to go home right away again. It's something you do- you hide from things, because confrontation just ends in you being at fault all the time. And maybe, this time, you are at fault.

You shouldn't just trust someone like that. You both barely know each other.

He parks at a gas station, turning off his bike in a more secluded parking area, before he takes off his helmet, and helps you take off yours too.

"What's wrong?" He asks, hair a bit wild, but eyes serious as they look at you, reflecting the light from the neon signs a little like mirrors.

"Nothing." You shrug, avoiding eye contact.

"He was just messing with me. They're always like that-" he tries to explain, and as you sigh, he knows that that's exactly what must've set you off. "Listen, I won't stand here and tell you I'm a church-going virgin because I'm not. Yeah, I fucked around, because sex is fun to me." He shrugs, and you're caught off guard at how boldly he says that. "But that doesn't mean I can't take things seriously." He offers, finally catching your gaze again. "And I want to take.. you seriously." He offers you, but you're not sure.

"...why?" You wonder. "Cause I'm pretty and innocent?" You jab at him. "Cause I'm the small town girl you can corrupt and then drop after you finally got into my pants?" You accuse. "Sucks to be you, I'm not a virgin anymore. I've had sex already, and for me it's not fun." You deny, crossing your arms almost defensively, though you quickly move your hands back on the bike as it moves slightly the moment he sits on it again, facing you however.

"I don't care about that." He tells you. "I won't lie that the corruption part isn't something appealing to me-" he chuckles, as he tests the waters, hands on your thighs not moving, just resting on the tops of them. "-But I'm not dropping you, if you ever let me have you." He purrs.

"What if I'm not ever letting you have me?" You respond, trying to act tough so he won't think you're easy.

"Then that's your choice." He nods.

"So if I say no right now, you'll leave me alone?" You ask.

"Depends on what you say no to." He shrugs leaning back a little, your legs feeling cold without his hands on them. "No to sex? Alright, we won't fuck then." He explains. "No to being with me? Cool, we'll just stay friends then." He goes on.

"No to me entirely?" He offers, eyes unreadable. "I'll accept that, and back off."

"That easy?" You ask a little caught off guard, and he nods. "So you're.. huh." You mumble to yourself, defeated. So he's not even up to put any effort in you. That's slightly disappointing, and honestly makes you feel a little ashamed even.

"So what is it?" He asks, and you shrug.

"I don't know." You answer honestly.

"Then how about I'll work for it?" He smirks, and you look at him now. "Let me take you out. Let's go on dates, I can take you to pack meet-up's so you can get to know those assholes better, hell, I'll even have you meet my mom if you want!" He excitedly proposes to you, tail wagging, hitting his bike occasionally. "Just- you seem really cool. Exactly what I've been searching for." He explains a bit softer now. "Let's try.. okay?" He asks.

"... okay." You answer, and at that his lips turn, part in a happy grin, before he gets up from the bike and punches the air once in his excitement before he returns.

"Okay!" He giggles to himself, helping you back into your helmet. "I know an awesome place to get some food-" he instantly rambles, kicking up the stand for his bike again before he drives off with you-

Eager to show you that he's the one for you.

[fkinavocado]

a very indulgent exploration of what could've, should've been...

Don't Worry Darling (SPIN-OFF) - Masterlist, Author’s Notes & Warnings / alternatively, read on wattpad

Part One (word count: 6.2k)

“... Jack? Excuse me, Jack? Is that really you?”

The man reluctantly stopped in his tracks and turned around, recognizing the woman but having forgotten her name. “Oh… hi there, uhm…?”

“Emma. It’s Emma. You remember me, right?”

“Yeah, you’re, uhm… you used to work at the hospital…”

Emma approached him, noting he wasn’t keen on breaching the gap himself. Poor fellow, she thought. He looked a mess. She was surprised she’d even recognized him. “Oh, I’m still at the hospital! How are you, Jack? You know, we’re all worried about you. Why didn’t you take us up on our offer, hm? We’d have loved to help you any way we could… It can’t have been easy. Gloria told us she came over once with a home cooked casserole but no one answered the door. She assumed you’d moved. Which is good, we thought. But we couldn’t get a hold of you, you must’ve also changed your number…”

Jack wasn’t really making eye contact. His gaze downcast, a hoodie atop of a beanie on his head and an oversized, worn out puffer jacket that almost swallowed him up. He looked very poorly even hidden behind all that. His facial hair unkempt, as was his hair tucked underneath his beanie, seemingly longer strands of it all messy and straw-like peeking out. His glasses loose at his temples. His face was hollow cheeked and she really feared he wasn’t looking after himself properly at all. But what really stood out to her was the bouquet of flowers he was carrying.

“Yeah… I moved out of there. Too many memories.”

“Those were her favourite… pink roses,” she mused. “You miss her so, don’t you, Jack? You can’t even bear talking to me about her, you poor man, even after all this time… What must you be going through… do you– agh. This is so insensible of me to even ask. Forgive me. But if it’s any consolation, us at the hospital haven’t given up hope. We still think she’s out there, somewhere, our Alice…”

Jack cleared his throat and took a step back. “I should get going…”

“Of course. Do take care of yourself, Jack. And if you ever want to reach out, you know where to find us. Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you,...” he stammered a bit, not knowing what else to say. He walked for a while in the wrong direction, just in case the nosy woman decided to follow him. 

He hadn’t moved. That would’ve been near impossible, and since he managed to dodge the bullet while the police were sniffing around for the longest time, he figured there wasn’t any reason to do so anymore. But he couldn’t have her know that, which is why he never answered the door to the other woman with the casserole either. 

After making sure she wasn’t following him, he resumed his walk home. He wished he could find some type of work from home. He’d be saving so much time and money on the commute, plus he’d always be there, which was quite imperative, all things considered.

What if there was a power outage? The one time that’d happened, there’d been dire consequences. Consequences he hadn’t had to endure. And he simply couldn’t allow that to happen again.

There were so many things that could go wrong while he wasn’t home.

Plus, if he worked remote he could take on a full shift. As it was, he had to work part-time, which wasn’t nearly enough to make ends meet. But the commute and all the prep he had to do were taking up too much time, time he didn’t want to waste here.

Finally arriving home, he made sure to secure the front door- the lock and all 3 of the bolts. 

Checking the computer screen, he only had 40 minutes left. The woman had made him late, what with all the detours he had to make to be sure she wasn’t following him.

Canned tuna it was, then. Again. No time for cooking. Not that he had much in the fridge anyway. 

He always felt antsy between the time he got back home and logging in. He wanted to get everything done and out of the way as soon as possible- cooking, laundry, cleaning (more like tidying up, the apartment was far from clean even by his standards), everything on autopilot, peeking at the computer screen every now and then to make sure he didn’t miss his log-in window.

With 20 minutes to spare, that was his que. 

“Oh!” He rushed back to the kitchen to retrieve the flowers, then using the keys that he wore on a chain around his neck for safekeeping, he unbolted yet another set of locks on the bedroom door. 

There she was. 

His heart always swelled in his chest seeing her there, safe and sound. Everyday day, without fail, a sigh of relief escaped his lips once he entered the bedroom. He’d probably never stop worrying while he was away for work.

“Darling, I… miss you all the time…” he hummed the lyrics to a song he used to sing to her often, placing the flowers in a vase by the bed. “Got you flowers, your favourite! Even that pesky Emma from the hospital remembers they’re your favourite. You’re so loved, hm? My precious girl.” He sat on the edge of the bed and reached to caress her supple cheek. “But I love you the most.”

Jack knew he did. Who else would do all this for her? Nobody! He tended after her, emptied out her waste bags as well as checked the respective connecting catheters were secure in place, cleaned her up, all without so much as wrinkling his nose. He replaced the IV, taking note that there was some bruising on that arm so he made sure to switch, he removed her compressive socks and massaged her limbs thoroughly before putting them back on, even made sure to hydrate her lips though she was getting all her nutrients through her IV, hell- he thought of everything. He did it all for her happily, and would do much more if needed. 

She’d done so much for them, too. 

She still did!

But long gone were the days where he’d see her come home from back to back shifts at the hospital, with barely any time to get some sleep in before she had to head back, all because she had to support the both of them all while paying off her student loans. 

Medschool was so expensive. Had he met her before he’d have talked her out of that career path. He’d have talked her out of any career! No. That was his job. He was the caretaker. He was the breadwinner. It’d been like that since the beginning of time. It was only natural for the man to provide. The fact that she’d had to for all that time had been killing him, every day that he had to sit at home and wait for her to get back from the hospital only to see her defeated, exhausted, drained beyond belief. 

Resident doctors were paid shit but strung out to the max. Especially surgeons. 

Meanwhile, Jack had struggled to find a job for the longest time. Unlike her, he hadn’t gone to college, let alone university. His parents couldn’t afford it at the time and he knew better than to tie himself up in student loans. He’d had odd jobs but nothing really ever stuck. He had no real skills, and every entry job demanded some form of higher education nowadays.

Plus, someone had to do house chores, cook and clean. And they couldn’t afford help. 

It’d been eating him up inside. It was all backwards! 

All up until he’d met someone online and got to talking over a game of World of Warcraft. This guy swore up and down about this dark web programme he’d found, but it was all very hush-hush, and Jack had to put in some serious gameplay time until he managed to extricate the info out of him.

The guy was very paranoid about telling him and even used a code system for what to look up. Jack took the lead and before long, he fell down the rabbit hole of what he now knew to be the Victory Project.

He got so immersed trying to digest all this new info being thrown his way all of a sudden that he nearly got caught listening to one of the podcasts when she’d gotten home from the hospital one day. He’d even forgotten to call the plumber. Boy- had that pissed her off.

She was already on edge all the time. Never had any time for him anyway- but if she got upset over silly little things she shut him out completely. 

He felt emasculated. Rejected. Reduced to a housewife.

Jack smirked to himself, as he tended to her whilst pondering all that. Securing the straps back around her wrists he mused at how things had changed. “I fixed it for us, I told you I would. Now you’re the one who’s waiting for me just as we speak. And I don’t even come home to you in scrubs, do I? No, I come home to you all handsome, suit and tie and ready to get my fill of you. Never too tired for you, am I darling? You’re such a great cook, god knows my mouth waters just thinking of all you’ve slaved over for us to feast on, but all I wanna do is feast on you instead. Aren’t you lucky?”

Jack watched her expressionless eyes for a moment as if waiting for her to answer him back, and promptly remembered to apply her eye drops, noticing they looked extra blood-shot than normal. He then finally got comfy in bed next to her. He couldn’t wait a moment longer. He was hard already just in anticipation of the way she’d excitedly open the door for him. The door to their lavish home, and their extravagant life together that he’d earned for the two of them. Him. 

He fixed the device around his own eyes and turned it on, taking her hand in his. 

“Welcome to the Victory Project. There are currently 72 active users.”

Nothing beat this. The pleasant, warm afternoon air sweeping through his perfectly coiffed hair as he rushed to get home to her from the Victory Headquarters. Here, the weather was always perfect… whereas, in the apartment, he had to keep the heating on a lower setting, the bill was ridiculous during the colder months. He always had to wear layers and layers, but not in the bedroom- no, he kept a radiator in there. All for her. He had to switch it off for safety reasons while he was away at work but it wasn’t like she was aware of her surroundings anyway! All the more reasons why he had to find something remote so he could work from home and clear up all these little things that bugged him about the whole arrangement. 

But he didn’t want to think about all that, not while he was here. No, here, those problems didn’t exist. This was his preferred reality, this was what he chose to believe was real. All the rest was just a means to an end.

He could feel all his exhaustment leave his body the closer he got to the house. He seldom wondered why she couldn’t have done the same for him coming back from the hospital. Why she couldn’t just leave all that baggage at the door and be glad to be home, back to him, where he waited for her like a lovesick puppy with separation anxiety.

He knew the answer to that now, of course, and that was all Frank’s merit- the brain behind this whole thing. He’d listened to his podcasts for a long while before he enrolled into the program. There was no way she could ever respect him within their given dynamic at the time. The roles were reversed and she couldn’t allow herself to be a woman to her man.

He’d fixed it, though, and boy, had Frank been right.

Every day, without fail, he knocked on the door coming home from work and there she was- all smiles and carefree and so eager to please him, in any way he saw fit. All because she respected him now. He was the man of the house, he was the breadwinner, he put a roof over her head, he got her all her little heart desired and kept her satisfied and happy. 

Which is why when nobody answered the door he was a bit taken aback.

Using his key that he’d rarely ever had to use himself to unlock the door, he let himself in and carefully inspected the silent house.

He knew, realistically, that there was no way something could’ve gone wrong- there was no crime in Victory. No one had broken into their home. But still, he searched the house tentatively. “Alice?”

Everything was spotless, and most striking of all, he couldn’t smell a trace of the homecooked meal he’d so been looking forward to. That tuna was enough to sustain his physical body, but not his large appetite.

Reaching the bedroom, he furrowed his brows with worry upon finding her… sleeping. Passed out on the bed, clad in her street clothes. She’d seemingly come back home from town exhausted and must’ve stretched her bones a bit by the looks of it. 

He contemplated waking her up. Maybe crawling between her thighs and having her gasp awake at the feel of him lapping languidly at her folds. He loved waking her up like that, and she did too. She loved being loved on, and Jack absolutely loved pleasuring her. She was so much more responsive, so much more sensitive to his touch, he could pleasure her over and over for hours on end. Probably ‘cause of all the practice he was having on a regular basis. And maybe he adjusted some settings regarding his stamina while creating his profile too, but at the end of the day, why not? He did it for her. All of this was for her!

Jack grunted to himself before closing the door to the bedroom so he wouldn’t perturb her sleep, deciding last minute to forgo his initial plans. Funny he’d been reminiscing about how things used to be just in time for this to happen all of a sudden.

It must’ve been a glitch in the system or something. This wasn’t in line with what he’d designed for themselves. Here, they were never tired, ill or imperfect in any way. Jack made a mental note to look into this after he logged out.

In the meanwhile- he’d never tried his hand at cooking here, where presumably he’d be a lot better at it than he was in reality. 

Just like with everything else.

*

Alice blinked her eyes awake. She took in her surroundings and hesitantly stood up on the bed in the dark room, letting her sight adjust. 

How did she get back here? Not here, here. She had an inkling of how she’d managed that- but back to the house, from the Headquarters. She couldn’t remember making the trek back.

Maybe she didn’t have to.

Maybe this was the default setting she woke up to everytime after entering… the simulation. Because, what else was this if not that?!

How long was she out of it? Judging by the darkness surrounding her, a good few hours. Perking her ears up, she could hear music- so Jack was home too.

She cradled her knees to her chest, trying to let it all sink in. She hadn’t had time to properly digest what had happened, in her unconscious state.

Hell, she was surprised she could even remember.

But this explained it… explained all the fuzzy deja vu-like flashbacks she kept having. Explained her brain fog and all the things she just couldn’t follow through in her train of thought. Explained why she sometimes couldn’t account for most of her day until Jack came home from work, almost as if she’d been on auto-pilot. 

Explained all the vivid “dreams”. 

They weren’t fanciful dreams, idealistic wishes of a progressive feminist world for which she’d gotten shock therapy at the Victory’s doctor’s orders.

They were her memories.

Waking up tied down to that bed… her own bed, from another life, had been traumatic, but she clearly was still in shock to be so calm about it. 

She hadn’t been calm initially of course- not when she couldn’t move her arms or blink her eyes shut. 

She’d managed to slip out of the confines, her wrists weak and frail and barely recognizable, yanking her IV out of her vein by accident- she hadn’t even known it was there!, all in an effort to get those things that forced her eyes open off of her face.

She’d been hysteric. Tried to muffle her own screams, because she didn’t know who was around to hear them. Tried to calm herself down, but the more she noticed, the more she hyperventilated. Like the fact that had both urinary and rectal catheters sticking out of her. Then she noticed how emaciated she looked, almost like she couldn’t even recognize her own body. She couldn’t feel her limbs, she felt numb and achy all over, bruises all across her skin from sitting still for so long. Her throat was hoarse, she couldn’t really scream that loud even if she wanted to.

She’d fumbled out of bed and immediately collapsed to the floor. She was too weak to stand, and she prayed she hadn’t broken any bones in her fall. She sat there crying in a fetal position for god knows how long, thinking of all the fractures she’d fixed in the OR, and all her knowledge that had gone to waste. 

All her life that had gone to waste!

This room, this bedroom- her old life came back to her in a flash, flooding all her senses. It felt like everything was finally clicking into place, and despite how miserable and utterly devastated she felt, it was a relief to finally figure it out. 

With the way nobody came rushing into the bedroom, she knew she was alone. Unless Jack was at this computer, headphones on– oh god. She felt her mind split into two trying to reconcile the fact that these two very different men were one and the same!

She was alone strapped to the bed- which could only mean one thing. He wasn’t constrained like she was. He hadn’t been forced into this. Unless they were being kept separate… both victims of this sick mindfuck. 

Because… surely– surely Jack couldn’t be behind this.

… Could he?

Scrambling for the door, determined to get some answers, she reached for the doorknob.

When she couldn’t get it to open, she mustered up all her strength to stand up- but still- it was no use. It was locked. And with the way it felt it looked like the door had been tampered with, bolted shut from the outside, not just locked. 

She was trapped. A prisoner in her own home. She eyed the windows next and even if by some miracle they weren’t bolted shut too- she knew she was too weak to try and use the fire escape. She’d surely succumb to her death trying to evade. She needed a plan- a better plan.

Her brain was scurrying to come up with something-anything, all the while dry heaving at the sight of her waste bags still attached to her by those catheters and the overall stale smell of the room, but she knew that with how dehydrated she was, vomiting would take her out completely at that point. She head to keep it together, had to–

She’d heard what she recognized to be the front door. Her blood froze in her veins. She didn’t know who it was, she had no idea who was behind all this. She had no clue where Jack was, if he even was part of this– her heart told her no, he couldn’t have, but at this point she had no way of knowing what was real or not, let alone what this all meant.

She couldn’t risk being found conscious. She was clearly being kept in a comatose state, treated as one such patient at least, and the fact that she’d woken up from that induced state was definitely not intended to happen.

She remembered what had happened before she woke up like this- she’d reached the infamous, off limits Victory Headquarters. Because a plane had crashed in that direction, and the trolley driver didn’t believe her nor wanted to take her there!

She’d made the trek all the way there… it’d taken her ages, in the scorching sun- and finally, finally, she’d reached the imposing building, in hopes of finding some help or at least some answers at that point!

Next thing she knew, she’d woken up strapped to this bed. Her bed, in her old bedroom, from her old life that had been stolen away from her!

She needed to gather as much information as possible, and the only way she could do that was to get back into that bed and pretend she never came to.

There was no other way.

She hurried as best she could, barely making it back to the bed, made sure she was laid out in the same outstretched position. By some miracle, the catheters were still in place, their respective bags on the floor by the foot of the bed. The hardest part was fixing whatever that contraption was over her face and around her eyes. It dug deep into her flesh and she remembered to wipe any traces of tears from her face when new ones began rolling down her face. She was surprised her body could even produce them with how parched she felt. She then inserted the needle back into her bruised vein– which was sure to get infected at this rate, whoever was doing this to her was amateur at best, or they didn’t much care to keep her alive. She didn’t know which prospect was worse. She slipped her wrists back through the strap loops, hoping it wouldn’t be obvious she’d gotten them a bit loose when she struggled her way out of them. 

And then she’d waited. And waited. And waited. All the while a bright red light scanned her eyeballs systematically, no doubt whatever was used to induce her into that trance or whatever it was that created the optimal parameters for the alternate reality to take place. She couldn’t even wrap her mind around it. She couldn’t even begin to understand how it worked- all she knew was that it was all too real to be just a dream. No. That was a controlled environment. The world simulation came to her again.

Her whole body froze as she’d heard the lock, then what she counted to be 3 other bolts on the bedroom door. She could only see directly above her, and that barely- but she could hear him when he came in. 

Smell him, even. 

And it wasn’t the smell of expensive cologne she’d grown used to, but a more familiar smell. A smell that felt more real, more ingrained in her subconscious- that of clothes he’d dug out of the laundry hamper to wear a few more times when everything else was too dirty even for his own standards, mixed with canned tuna and the faintest amount of deodorant that did nothing to mask the fact that he’d skipped showering for a day or two.

Her heart sank when she heard him hum to himself the song that had been stuck in her mind for ages- the one she’d been humming herself but couldn’t remember where she knew it from. This is where she knew it from. It’d been their song, in a way, a song he’d made up just for her.

“Darling, I… miss you all the time… Got you flowers, your favourite! Even that pesky Emma from the hospital remembers they’re your favourite. You’re so loved, hm? My precious girl.” She felt him sit on the edge of the bed and tried her best not to flinch when he leaned in to caress her cheek. “But I love you the most.”

She could feel her eyes well up with tears. Tears she couldn’t even blink away. 

He then started tending to her and she mustered up all of her willpower not to lurch at him when he’d gotten her out of her restraints- she knew she was no match for him, not in her weakened state by any means.

He was doing this to her. It was him! All while declaring his love for her. She felt her heart break into a million pieces, all the while forcing herself not to make any movements and break her cover. Not even when he cleaned her with wet wipes up and checked the catheters, emptying the waste bags. God- she wished she was dead. For a while she zoned out completely, much like rape victims. She just let it happen to her, dissociating from her body completely, mentally checking out.

He’d eventually poured what must’ve been eyedrops into her sockets and that brought her back to reality. Whatever reality was anymore…

And then… to her utter shock, she felt him get in bed next to her. The familiar clank of the device she’d placed back onto herself could be heard and she realized he was putting on the same headgear. 

He was… joining her? He was willingly putting himself through this? Sure, he wasn’t forced into it against his will, there was nobody strapping himself to the bed, nobody feeding him through an IV and treating him like a comatose patient.

But he was entering the simulation the same way she was. Through that headgear.

Is this what he did everyday while he was “at work”? Was this the infamously secret Victory Project that she couldn’t even ask him about- exiting that alternate reality and coming back here?

She heard him switch it on and then the whole room went dark before a projector of sorts played a familiar black and white scene on the ceiling, above the bed. She felt him interlace his fingers with hers and she was done for- she couldn’t fight it. Whatever this was, it was working fast, making her slip into unconsciousness almost immediately.

Followed directly after by her waking up in her other bedroom. Unrestrained. Nothing to force her eyes open. Clean. Rejuvenated even.

But scared shitless.

Traumatised.

Heartbroken.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, trying to make sense of it all in the darkness. Thankful to be able to move freely, thankful to feel like her old self, but well aware that it was all an illusion, that her real self was held hostage somewhere god knows where. Helpless, frail and alone.

She felt conflicted. Why was he doing this?! Why had he done this to her? She’d heard him say he loved her most. Heard he’d brought her flowers, even though she couldn’t even see them. Felt him tend to her, he was doing a lousy job at it but was keeping her alive and she could tell he was trying his best, being gentle, careful, thoughtful even when the reality was he didn’t have to. Not when, for all he knew, she was unconscious. 

This was insanity. 

There was no other explanation. No other justification. She understood the nuances- could see why this was- on paper- a better life. But it was fake! And most of all, it wasn’t her choice!

She’d been forced into it, against her will, without her even being aware of it! Her life had been robbed away from her. Her family, her friends, her hard work. The only common denominator… was Jack.

She didn’t know how to go about it, but if there was any chance of her escaping, she had to play dumb and pretend she knew nothing.

She wasn’t sure how she could face him knowing what she did, but she had to. She had to buy time, enough time until she could put her plan into motion. 

She didn’t know if she’d succeed, but she had to try. She had to. She had to escape, claim her life back, good or bad.

She got off the bed, marvelling at how strong and healthy she felt, as opposed to how she’d collapsed on the floor in her real body. That alone emboldened her, she had to go face the music.

And face the music she did. Jack had put a record on, blasting it at high volume with little consideration to her being asleep. No surprises there.

But as she approached the kitchen, she took in the sight of him… cooking. Or, trying to cook. 

Apparently, you couldn’t tweak everything in this alternate reality. Or maybe he didn’t care to fumble with his cooking skills. Because he’d definitely perfected some of his other skills–

“You’re awake!... I didn’t have time to set the table.”

“What’s going on?” She watched him scurry around the kitchen, trying to do a dozen things at once and failing. 

“Well, I’m making you dinner. Now, we were supposed to have five courses. Unfortunately, I think we’re down to about three.” 

She took note of the mess, especially the way something was about to catch on fire on the stove.

“That– don’t look at that. That course is officially off the menu.”

That’s when it clicked in her brain– the fucker had switched up his accent! He had a British accent here! Oh, she could laugh if she didn’t feel like murdering him. She reminded herself it wouldn’t be the real him she’d be murdering, though. No, for all she knew if she harmed him in any way here, she might end up trapped inside this simulation forever if her plan failed. Or until her real body died, with no one to tend for it, even as poorly as he was, in the real world.

She had to thread carefully. “What happened?”

“I got a little aggressive with the seasoning.”

“How long have you been home?”

“Uh, a few hours.” He proceeded to make even more of a mess in his attempt to jump from one dish to the next. “Okaaay. Nope. Don’t look at that. That’s– Okay, so I’m making that roast, you know the one you made for my birthday? Only with a few changes…”

“I was here when you got here?” 

“Yeah. Asleep in the bedroom. Do you put carrots in a roast?”

“How did I get home?” That was a reasonable question. Last thing she knew of this reality was she’d reached the Headquarters. She needed to know if anyone knew about it.

“Trolley, I think.”

“Wait, so he came out and got me?!”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Jack, I got off the trolley. I saw a plane crash.”

“Alice, I think I would’ve heard if there was a plane crash.”

“No, Jack, I saw it…”

“They tend to be rather loud…”

“... and I started walking–”

“–and hard to miss.”

It was dawning on her that she wasn’t going to milk any info on this out of him. He was going to pretend the plane never crashed, of course, whatever that even meant for this simulation. Or maybe the plane crashing was only visible to her version of this altered reality. She couldn’t know for sure. But he seemed unconcerned otherwise. She didn’t think he knew she’d gone there. She really must’ve re-entered right back into the bedroom, after all, she, along with all the other women, were never meant to go up there, the Headquarters were off-limits.

Meaning that was probably from where the men entered. Since they were the only ones who came and left. The women were probably all bound to their own respective beds back in the real world, they were never meant to leave the simulation. It made sense why she’d found herself back in the house- where she belonged. And it made sense if that was where the man entered and exited since that’s where they all allegedly went everyday for “work”.

Her heart sank at the realization that it was highly probable that all the other women were victims, just like her. Unless everything and everyone else was a simulation around them.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

She tried not to flinch when Jack finally noticed she’d zoned out whilst trying to process all of this, and touched her shoulder, taking a better look at her.

“No…I don’t know–I’m not…”

Before she could react, he pulled her into his arms. That smell of expensive cologne hit her again, overriding the smell of stale clothes and canned tuna from her recent memory. And his embrace felt so familiar, so comforting, that for a moment she allowed herself to pretend like this was the person she knew to love her. The person she couldn’t wait to come back home from work everyday. The person that made her smile and laugh and moan and cry tears of happiness. She knew him well, she loved him with all her heart. And she was reluctant to accept that this man was the same that was keeping her strapped against the bed. Because that was the reality of it. 

But this version of Jack that was holding her felt so real as well…

“I had a really weird dream. A really weird dream…”

“I’m sorry.”

Her heart sank. Was he, sorry? She buried her face deeper into his chest and held her breath, stifling a sob as tears flooded her eyes immediately. She wanted to break down in his arms and ask him why he’d done this. She wanted to give him a chance to explain himself. Wanted for him to somehow, magically, make it all better.

But she knew there was no way for him to do it. There was nothing he could say or do to justify what he’d done to her, even if his intentions didn’t seem as evil as they truly were to him.

Because she knew Jack. She knew he’d probably convinced himself somehow that this was the only way out of the miserable life they were living- and be it as it were, it was her life! He’d had no right to steal it from her like that. 

“Do you know what weird dreams make me? Hungry.” He fed her a carrot he was holding jokingly then turned her around as she chewed absentmindedly, her mind racing, still taking in the reality of what her life was. Or the alternate reality, more like it.

Jack cupped her face, searching her eyes and declared solemnly, “Alice, I want to be honest with you about something.”

She almost choked on the carrot she was chewing on. Was he–

“I don’t think these mashed potatoes are gonna work.”

She swallowed, a bitter taste in her mouth at her naivete. “That’s because you need to boil them first, baby…”

“I knew it… I knew there was a step missing. Such an idiot,” he smiled bashfully.

She laughed at that. A manic laugh, but he didn’t seem to notice. Not at how incompetent he was at such a basic life skill- who the hell tries to mash raw potatoes?!- but at how hopeful she’d been for a moment there, believing he was about to confess everything just like that, out of the blue.

“Let me put a pot on…”

“No, no, no–”

“Come on, let me–”

“Make us some drinks. Relax.” He pulled her out of the kitchen and into the lounge, declaring “I am your chef tonight!”

Lord knew she desperately needed a drink at this point, so she sighed heavily, getting to it, when he stopped her in her tracks, “hey!”

“Hm?”

“You love me?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. She replied like she used to, back in the real world. Something she didn’t remember ever doing here, but it just came to her by reflex now that her memory of her past life had come back to her fully. And for some reason that she couldn’t explain, she meant it, still. “The most.”

Jack seemed pleased with her answer, and resumed his ‘cooking’. Alice turned to the whiskey bottle and downed two doubles, one after the other. 

How was she ever going to get free when her stupid heart had meant what she said?

She couldn’t allow herself to be fooled by this false reality any longer. Couldn’t allow to slip into his arms again and pretend he loved her when this was anything but love. 

So she waited. Waited until he fell asleep that night (thankfully all the “cooking” had seemingly tired him out and he didn’t try anything)- praying this meant he was truly asleep.

Got dressed, tiptoed out of the house and geared up for a long journey to the Headquarters. She couldn’t risk taking the car and waking him or the neighbours up, alerting them with this unusual behaviour. There weren't any trolleys late at night by any means- everyone was sound asleep.

Everyone but her.

She was no longer asleep.

A/N: i've been meaning to get to this for the longest while! hopefully it scratches some itches we've been left with. i had fun writing this first part. more to come 👀

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

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[nekrosmos]

Price is cold, very cold, Nik helps him out (SFW) | AO3

The stiffness in Price’s fingers had settled in a long time ago, hands pinned firmly under his armpits while shifting his weight around, hoping to get some heat back in his extremities, without much success. Every exhale gave him a proper view of how cold it really was, making him miss the countless ops in middle eastern summers that made him sweat every last drop of water in his body and burnt his skin. 

Yet, there stood Nikolai, next to him, jacket opened, a cigarette in his hands, looking like this was just a slightly chilly evening. Unbelievable. 

“Fucking hell, Nik.”

This got the Russian to raise an eyebrow at him, his dark eyes glaring into Price’s briefly, before handing him the cigarette he had just lit up.

“Hmh? Want one?”

A short laugh escaped Price’s lips as he shook his head, teeth shuddering as he opened his mouth. 

“Nah. All I want is some fucking heat, Nik.” He grumbled, words barely audible between his trembling and the slight wind piercing through his bones. “You owe me dinner for this.”

This whole thing had been Nik’s idea. A weapon’s deal, probably just a regular work day for him, if Nik hadn't smelled something fishy about this one. On such a short notice, all he could do was ask John for help and backup, something the captain was happy to provide, despite the negative temperatures. He just wished the asshole they were waiting for would show up quicker so the two of them could get back to their van. 

It was Nik’s turn to chuckle softly, exhaling the smoke slowly as he did so. He took a step closer to Price and the captain immediately felt the heat radiating off of him, his bigger shape gently pressing itself against his, leaving what little heat John had left in his own body to gather at the tip of his ears, under his beanie. 

“Is the cold that bad ?” The Russian asked, a wider smile on his face as he let one of his hands wander to the back of John’s neck, gloved fingers toying with his scarf. 

A soft, barely audible swear word was all John was able to answer, his cheeks warming up as he felt the warm leather gloves press against the skin of his neck. His blue eyes darted around the alley the two were standing in, checking if anyone was around, a habit of his he found difficult to get rid of. Things were still pretty recent with Nik, and it didn’t matter how safe he felt around the man or how capable he knew the two of them to be at protecting themselves, there would still be apprehension whenever Nikolai touched him this way outside.

Another exhale, John’s lips quivering as he stared into Nikolai’s dark eyes, whole body shaking under several layers of clothes as his answer. 

“Give me your hands.” Nik simply added, placing his cigarette between his lips and opening both of his palms, waiting for John to oblige him. 

For a moment, John stared at him, a frown on his face as he tried to understand what his plan could be. Another gust of wind rushing through the alley and piercing through his body was enough to convince him, however, finally removing his hands from beneath his armpits and placing them inside of Nikolai’s. 

“Better not start making me dance a waltz or anything.” Price mumbled, his apprehensions still very much in the back of his mind.

“A good idea for later.” Nik teased in return. 

His smile couldn’t have been wider as he closed his fingers around John’s hands, pulling them closer until they were resting against Nik’s sides, under his jacket. It was like placing your hands directly on a heater, the warmth immediately spreading inside John’s fingers, almost painfully so for half a second, until it became enjoyable again. 

“Better?” Nik asked as he let go of John’s hands, letting them rest against his sides before grabbing his cigarette again and slowly letting the smoke out. 

“Yeah. Fuck, Nik.” 

The urge to push his entire body against Nik’s, let his arms wrap themselves around his bigger shape and let his head rest in the crook of his neck, taking in all of his familiar and comforting scent was strong, too strong. There were still outside, in the cold, waiting for this fucking arms dealer to show up and all Price could think about was how good it would be to be pinned under Nik’s weight, how warm he would feel in his arms, his hot breath hitting the back of his neck as Nik laid on top of him, hips against his, hearing him whisper the most salacious praises in his ears while he - 

“John. John ? They’re here.” 

“Bollocks.” 

Price’s hands quickly let go of Nik, moving to the inside of his jacket’s pockets instead, fingers resting against the pistol concealed in it as three figures approached them with heavy cases in their hands. 

…

As the heavy van door slammed next to him, Price let out a sigh of relief. The inside of the vehicle was definitely an improvement from the outside temperature. He sat in the passenger seat, watching Nik take his place as the driver, the Russian humming happily as he placed his keys against the dashboard. 

“That went pretty well, didn’t it?” He asked, his usual smile still on his face. 

“The bloke I shot in the foot after they tried to grab us wouldn’t agree with you.” 

“Da, but they were very reasonable after that.” 

The inside of the van was suddenly filled with the sound of joyful laughter as the two men leaned against each other, one of Nik’s big hands first resting against Price’s shoulder, only to move to his chin, raising it up slightly, enough that his lips could meet John’s. Fifteen minutes ago, Nikolai was holding an eastern European mobster in a tight headlock, ready to crack his skull open, a proud display of his strength and resolve, and now, he was tenderly kissing his love, smiling behind his lips as his fingers dig into John’s beard, gently brushing against his skin. John loved that about him. 

“Still cold?” His deep voice was like a reassuring embrace to Price. 

“It’s better than standing outside but yeah, I’m still fucking freezing.” 

Nikolai nodded, grabbing his keys and turning the engine on. 

“I know a good way to warm you up.” 

The shit eating grin on his face was enough of a clue for John to understand what he meant by that, his insides twisting in anticipation. 

“Dinner first. You owe me, Nik.” 

“Da, da. I’m a gentleman, after all.” 

“Huh-huh.” 

Another shared laugh echoed inside the vehicle as they took off. No matter how cold John was at the moment, he had no doubts in his mind that Nik would indeed find a way to warm him up tonight. 

[bunnywritesjunk]

My King

Series summary: Your parents signed you up for an Alpha Omega Match company when you were eighteen. It took years for them to find your match, but you meet the giant austrian man. Will he be a good partner?

Chapter summary: König is a little bit jealous about Soap's cookies.

Pairing: König x Fem Reader

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Never use this abbreviation without the slashes it is an indigenous slur) 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, knotting, oral (male and female receiving) rough sex.

Word count: 3k

Genre: Mostly Fluff a little angst here and there. Smut.

A/n: Come get it hot ya'll. I know many have been waiting for this. and I wanted to add a little hit for maybe another series. Maybe.....you guys might want......something like this.....but with.....the ghost man? Idk maybe thats coming who knows.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Four:

The rain pattered down your bedroom window. The noise lulls you into a lazy half-sleep state. You snuggled into your nest feeling content. König had gone to get groceries and insisted you stay home, out of the rain. You heard him come through the front door clumsily. You begrudgingly left your nest and went to the kitchen. There, König was his shoes were wet tracking water into the kitchen. His wet jacket was abandoned on the floor near the front door. He glanced at you, he had his surgical mask on as well as a beanie. He was muttering to himself clenching and unclenching his fists.

“Kö, how about you go get changed I'll put away the food.” You knew he was overstimulated from the shopping trip and getting caught in the rain.

He didn't say anything as he rushed off to his room. You put the groceries away and mopped up the water that was on the floor. König came back looking slightly better in dry clothes. He stood near the kitchen his gaze toward the floor. You took his hand and guided him to the couch. He went nonverbal like this a few times during your stay with him. You knew he needed some time to relax before his words returned. You wrapped a throw blanket around him and put on a nature documentary. Nature shows were what he watched most, except when you wanted to watch cartoons or reality tv. After a few minutes, König looked more relaxed. He spoke.

“Schatz, two of my coworkers are in the city today. Would you like to meet them? They want to take me to a bar somewhere.”

“Oh, I'd love to meet them Kö. Will they be here soon?”

“They'll be here in about an hour after I give them the ok.”

“What are their names?” You asked.

“Ghost and Soap, one of which you kind of already know.”

You gasped excitedly. “I finally get to meet Soap! I promised to make some cookies for him.” You started gathering the ingredients.

König watched you from the couch. “You promised him cookies?”

“Yeah, as a thank you for helping me with your surprise.”

König growled lowly causing you to stop in your tracks. You looked up at him with a concerned look on your face. Your inner Omega was getting upset, what had you done that upset him?

“Alpha? What's wrong?” You asked.

König looked down. “...You're making cookies for him, and not me?”

The concern on your face was replaced by amusement. “König, of course, you can have some.” You chuckled.

König got up and walked to the kitchen. “It's not funny Schatz, I don't want you baking for another Alpha.” He growled.

You continued searching for the cookie ingredients not feeling phased but the intimidation your Alpha was trying to display.

“Alpha, I cook and bake so much for you. You can stand to let me make some cookies for your friend.”

König was slightly embarrassed at his own jealousy. He growled again but left you be, going back to watch his documentary.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cookie dough was resting in the fridge as you sat with your Alpha. He was still a bit sour toward you about the cookies.

“Kö, I will make you your own special batch of cookies ok?”

“Hmph.” He replies, making you pout.

“I'll get you back.” He says.

You give him a puzzled look. Before you can ask what he means, the doorbell rings. He gets up and heads downstairs to retrieve his coworkers. He returned with two men in tow. One was tall, still shorter than König but he still towered over you. He was wearing a balaclava with a skull on it along with oversized black clothing. The other man had a bright smile on his face. He had a short mohawk and an army green jacket with jeans. You got up and introduced yourself while shaking their hands.

“Nice to finally meet you, I'm Soap.” The one with the mohawk said as you shook his hand.

“Ghost.” The taller one responded shortly. You gave him a warm smile and he nodded in acknowledgment.

The men sat on the couch talking amongst themselves. You decided to bake off some cookies for soap while he was still here. You could feel König's gaze on the back of your head as you baked. They put on a Rugby game to watch. You didn't know the first thing about Rugby so, you gave them space. As the cookies baked you sat at the dining room table and wrote for a little while. Whenever you glanced at König, he seemed content but something was off about him. The cookies didn't take very long to bake, when they were done you let them cool and placed them in a Tupperware container for Soap. After about an hour, they were getting ready to leave to go to the bar. You handed the cookies to Soap and bid them farewell. Soap gave you a warm hug and followed Ghost out of the apartment. König gave you a look, but hugged you tightly.

“I'll be back late tonight.” He kissed your cheek and left.

You went back to the table and continued to write. Time got away from you and before you knew it, it was midnight. Your eyes burned slightly from watching the bright computer screen for so long. You got up and stretched walking to the kitchen to grab yourself a snack. You got some cheese and crackers and sat on the couch watching a random robot chicken episode. Your body relaxed into the couch feeling heavier with each passing second. You fell asleep with a cracker still on your chest listening to the tv drone on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

König got home around 1:30 am. He was still annoyed at how his Omega had dismissed him about the cookies earlier. He knew that you were just a sweet and loving girl that wanted to show appreciation for Soap. He would let that slide, But his Alpha needed her to know who she belonged to. He walked in and noticed you asleep on the couch, cracker crumbs all over you. König smiled at the sight his inner Alpha preened. He set his things down and walked over to the sleeping Omega kneeling before her. He picked her up gently. You stirred awake at the movement, sleepy eyes meeting his.

“Hi, Kö.” You said quietly.

He said nothing. You thought he was going to take you into your room but he passed it and opened the door to his. His scent was so potent, you stirred more aware of where he was taking you. He placed you on his bed and turned around to rummage through his closet. You sat up confused and groggy.

“Am I your Alpha?” He asked lowly.

“What?” You said confused.

He turned to you, his expression unreadable. “Am I your Alpha?” He repeated.

“Yes, you are my Alpha.”

“Hmm, yet you give affection to others.” He said while taking his shirt off. His muscled rippled beneath his scarred skin.

“Kö, I just wanted to show my gratitude.” You rubbed your eye trying to wipe away the sleep.

“I know sweet girl.” He turned and walked over to you, towering over the bed.

He leaned down pinning your chin between his thumb and index finger forcing you to look up at him. “I think it's time you learn who you belong to Schatz.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Alpha?”

He kissed you deeply forcing his tongue into your mouth. You leaned back slightly surprised, he used that opportunity to lay you on your back. His knee parted your legs and you gasped softly. His hand gripped the back of your neck firmly keeping you in place as he kissed you, the other hand roamed your torso feverishly. You gripped his shoulders to steady yourself as the massive man dominated your mouth. His hand made its way under your shirt fondling your bare breasts. His rough fingertips grazed over your nipples drawing small moans and whimpers from you.

König detached himself from your mouth and started to nibble and kiss your scent glands. Your toes curled as your Omega mewled and purred. You opened your legs wider so his hips slot in between them perfectly. He released a deep growl, pleased at your compliance. He lifted your shirt up and over your head throwing it somewhere unseen. König kissed down your body giving your neck and a few licks before continuing the journey down. König slid your shorts and panties off in a swift movement.

He folded your legs up keeping his hands under your knees giving him full access to you. Your folds were dripping with slickness, ready to receive attention from your Alpha. He gave a long flat lick over your clit making you shiver. His tongue moved expertly around it quickly learning what makes you writhe. The gentle sucks and teasing licks were driving you over the edge. You moaned louder and louder gripping his hair. Every time you'd get close he'd slow down and tease your clit once again.

“Alpha...please.” You cried.

König looked at you through his eyelashes, a predatory glint in his eye. Your legs shook with every movement his tongue made. You whimpered loudly begging him to let you cum.

“Please Alpha. Please please please let me cum.” Your breathing is increasingly labored.

König hummed pleased with your begging and went back to ravishing your clit. You came quickly and hard your thighs squeezing the sides of his head. You felt your slit coat his mouth and drip onto the bed. He released your legs, they dangled over the side of the bed lazily. König stood up licking his lips of your juices. He unbuckled his pants and pulled them down. His cock sprung out with force slapping his stomach. In your orgasm, dazed state all you could do was stare at the large appendage. König pulled down to the edge of the bed making you sit up. He caressed your face with his thumb.

“You like what you see Schatz?” He asked teasingly.

He guided you off the bed to a kneeling position, he grabbed the hair around the crown of your head tightly. You nodded looking up at your giant Alpha. With his other hand, he rubbed his wet tip against your lips gently asking for you to open up. You parted your lips and König wasted no time filling your mouth. He sighed deeply using your hair to guide your head in long strokes. You pressed your tongue against the underside of his dick sucking gently.

“Just like that Omega.” He groaned.

König thrusted gently into your mouth trying his best not to choke you. He felt the back of your throat rub his tip with every thrust making him moan. He moved your head faster ripples of pleasure ran up his spine every time your lips puckered sliding over his shaft. He felt himself get closer and closer the hand in your hair gripped tighter. His grunts turned into short growls. Right before he came he pulled you off of his cock, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to his tip.

König bent down and picked you up under your thighs, placing your butt on the edge of the bed. He used his arm to hold your legs together, you rested them on his left shoulder. He leaned down pressing his tip in between your folds. He used one hand to hold both of your ankles and the other hand guided his cock into your heat. The tip pushed in with ease your wetness making him growl lowly. You whimpered as he stretched you out trying your best to relax. He pushed in slowly thrusting occasionally to help you get used to his girth. Every inch he pushed into you he restrained himself with a hiss.

König looked down at your face, scrunched up in pleasure. He pressed his hand onto your stomach keeping you in place as he rocked into you. When he finally bottomed out you were a quivering moaning mess. You had never had sex with an Alpha. He was going to ruin you for anyone else. König started thrusting at a painfully slow pace, making sure you were adjusting and not in any serious pain. He leaned down pressing your thighs into your torso creating an angle that had you seeing stars. His thrust gradually got faster. König clenched his jaw tightly, your wetness pulled growls from his throat.

“You're being such a good Omega, you take me so nicely.” He said breathlessly.

You clenched around his cock tightly at his praise. Your tits bounced as his thrusts increasingly got harder and rougher. He used his thumb to rub gentle circles around your sensitive clit as he thrusts. You moaned and gasped as he pulled you closer to your second orgasm. His thrusts became animalistic in nature, almost making you scream at the force.

“You're mine...Say it.” König growled out.

“I-I'm yours Alpha.” You managed to stutter out weakly.

“Louder.” He pounded into you harder.

“I'm yours!” You screamed.

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body shook and spasmed on his cock. You felt his knot grow, catching the edge of your hole. The sensitivity making you twitch. König came with a loud guttural moan, locking his knot inside you.

König gently opened your legs so you can straddle him. He picked you up bringing your face close to his. Your eyes were glazed over and your breathing still hadn't slowed. He kissed you gently before nuzzling his nose into your scent glands. He laid you down on the bed rotating you so your back is to his chest. He tried his best not to move his knot but the position change still made you whimper. He pulled his blanket over your body and held you close keeping his nose buried in your neck. You purred softly as he gave you gentle kisses. You fell asleep quickly and the Alpha followed suit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bed shifted stirring you awake. Everything around you smelt like König, including yourself. The dull ache in between your thighs was enough to remind you of last night's events. König snuggled into your hair inhaling deeply. He was incredibly infatuated with this Omega. You caressed his broad arms that were wrapped around you.

“Morning Kö.”

“Good Morning, Schatz. How are you feeling?”

“A little sore but I'm ok.”

“Was I too rough with you? I'm sorry.” He apologized quickly.

“No König, you were fine. Better than fine. You were amazing.” You said with a giggle.

König smiled and got up, stretching his back. He walked to his closet to get some clean clothes. You couldn't help but stare at his perfectly square butt and small waist.

“I'll make you breakfast, Ja?”

“Mm, I'd like that.”

He got dressed and went to the kitchen. You snuggled in his sheets smiling to yourself. Your Alpha has knotted you. You wondered if he'd take the next step with you. Your inner Omega ached at the thought of König marking you. You knew he wouldn't without an explicit and long talk about it. He wanted to make sure you had no doubts about being marked by him. König came back after a few minutes with an omelet for you. You sat and took the plate happily. König watched you with adoration as you ate. You were such a good little Omega, so perfect for him. His inner Alpha was at his loudest today than he had ever been.

After you ate you got up and went to your room to get dressed. Your legs still trembled and ached but you ignored it. You changed into comfy clothes and grabbed a blanket from your nest to snuggle with on the couch. You put on your favorite cartoon and bundled up. König joined you after a little while, having made breakfast for himself. He ate quickly and turned to look at you.

“Schatz, I have something to speak with you about.” He said.

You got nervous at his tone but smiled anyways. “What is it?”

“After Christmas, I have to go back to work.”

“...Yeah well, I know.” You said sounding a little disappointed.

“That means that sometimes, I will be gone for weeks at a time. Sometimes even months.”

You nodded looking down. He continued.

“My job...It's dangerous. I come home hurt sometimes. One day, I may not come home at all.”

“Kö, don't say that please.”

“It is the truth, Schatz. If you are to be mine, I need you to understand these things.”

“But, I don't want to think that every time you leave you might die. That makes it so much harder.” The thought made you tear up.

König scooted closer to you and pressed your head into his chest, holding you in a tight embrace.

“No, you don't have to think that, I've survived this long. But now I have someone to live for. I will come home to you, always.”

“You promise?”

“I promise, Schatz.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bonus: Ghost and Soap.

The bar was loud and lively. König had left a few minutes ago to be with his Omega, leaving Ghost and Soap to their own devices.

“So, what do you think about her?” Soap asked referring to Konigs Omega.

“She's sweet, it'll do him good to have someone soft in his life.” Ghost responded.

“Yeah, I was thinking about it myself.”

Ghost raised an eyebrow. “What? Doing that match-making bullshit?”

“It worked for that big brute, why couldn't it work for me?” Soap chuckled.

Ghost didn't really have an answer. He'd be lying if he said he didn't think about signing up after hearing about König's success with the program. Romance wasn't really his thing. He had ignored his Alpha for so long that he barely feels him anymore. But seeing the Colonel and his Omega gave him hope. Maybe there was someone out there. Someone made for him, someone perfect for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist:

@that-fangirl-1106 @itsryuken @midwesternwitchery @hiken-no-stark @rouge-swears @the-chaotic-cow @a-gay-cryptid @wybwtjmiadz @somanyminidragons @tizylish @smutslutsposts @y2katsuki @thychuvaluswife @gxdsmonsters @undeadgod @multy-fandom-lover @cloudyyjanee @bobafett-tea @mxkaylaj

I hope I got everyone!

[pastlivesxpastlie]

I don’t wanna get in your way…

Vessel x m!reader • strangers to lovers

A snowstorm. A broken heater. Two lonely guys. What could go wrong?

strangers to lovers, instalove, shy!vessel, concierge!m!reader, they’re both clueless doormats, close proximity, snowed in together, flirting, teasing, consent and checking in, making out, slight praise kink, blowjob (vessel + reader receiving), brief deep throat, “mate” as a silly pet name

taglist: @lifemod17 @glitterghost @inv3ga @adenobabe @jeriiicho @ivys-thick-juicy-thighs @milk--bones @myaudiocommentary @kittydothedishes @intake-of-breath

🖤 18+ MDNI🖤

You’re not quite sure how you and everyone else in your sleepy tourist-trap of a town missed the announcement about snowstorm, but here you are fielding calls at the check-in desk about vacancies at the cabin (there were none), if the roads were clear over there (they were not), and if you’re open (“I answered didn’t I?” But you’d never say that). You have time for half an inhale after hanging up with someone before the phone rings again. After a closed mouth scream you answer through clenched teeth with a syrupy customer service voice.

“Thank for you calling Lodges at Eden, yes we’re open and yes we’re freezing here too, how can I help you today?”

“Uhm. Well,” the man on the other line starts. You look down at the phone and see the blinking light next to “Cabin 1.” Shit. It’s a guest. “Sorry to bother, mate, but uh…the heat’s playing up in Cabin 1. Is there a chance someone can come look at it? If not it’s totally fine or-“ Shit! It’s the handsome English guy who visits each December.

You wipe a hand down your face to muffle the heavy sigh. If this guy is having heat issues, then soon the rest of cabins probably would, too. And…you’re the only one working today who’s cared to learn how to work on the heat until the HVAC company can come out. So you’d have to face him after being snippy on the phone and face the bitter cold, all in one fell swoop.

“Sure, no problem. I can be over there in 10 minutes, ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, thank you. Really, take your time.”

This dude was too polite. You know how cold it can get even when the heat is working, and it’s almost like he’s resigned to it. You get your gloves on and shrug on your heavy jacket, setting out for the cabin. When you knock on the door, you’re greeted by your too-good-for-this-world guest who is pilled in a hoodie, sweats, a beanie, and a knit scarf. A lopsided smile tugs at his lips as he keeps one arm tucked against himself.

“Hey, you got here fast.”

“Of course I did—you need help.” You walk in and are immediately hit with a blast of cold air. It’s not the HVAC was out, the heater was out, leaving the blower working overtime to emulate a meat freezer. “Fuck,” you exclaim rubbing your hands together, “sorry. That was inappropriate but holy shit it is uninhabitable in here!” This gets a little chuckle from the guy. How is he not livid right now? You go to the thermostat and attempt to override the AC with your code, but it’s no use. You’re no HVAC professional and you don’t want to bullshit the guy. “Alright, so, it’s off now, but that doesn’t mean it will necessarily warm up in here.”

The tall guy nods and sucks in his lips, pondering something. You catch yourself studying his face, the gentleness of it. He looks like he couldn’t be moved to anger in the first place. He shudders from the cold and takes a shaky breath before speaking. “Right. Makes sense. Well, in that case, could I get some extra blankets? Don’t really want to venture out for new lodging and…I doubt you even have other vacancies or…”

“How are you not ballistic right now?” You ask with a hint of wonder.

He blushes and rubs the back of his neck. “S’not your fault, mate. Genuinely, I’ll be alright with more blankets.” His face is beet red from the cold and his shyness. It’s sweet. Something stirs in your belly. Sure you have fleeting crushes on guests—sometimes they’re flash-bang thoughts of how it would be to share the cabin with them for a night, other times you wonder what it would be like to explore your little town with them, hand in hand, seeing it through new eyes. But this was a very general warm, gushy, “heart-eyes,” feeling. Maybe you just felt bad for the guy. But then again he was being more than nice…he was being sweet. You take a deep breath and bite the bullet.

“Look. I don’t feel great about just giving you some blankets and calling it good. Hell, I don’t even think our spare space heater would do much. I…I’m renting a little apartment above the concierge office…check-in…thing… the heat in there always works. Too good sometimes. Stay there for the night. Or however long you need. And I wil—“

“What about you!?” He looks at you like you’ve asked him to do something unspeakable.

“I can…stay in here or…sleep in the lobby. No one is going to come in there when I close up. Because, it’s locked, and—“ you rub your neck and stare at the ground like it’s incredibly interesting. Your new tall friend cuts you off.

“If it’s for the night, just let me sleep on the couch or something. Come on, mate. Don’t…don’t set yourself on fire to keep me warm. You don’t even know me.” There’s a pause. He mindlessly licks and bites his lower lip as he studies your face for a second. “But, seems like we could friends.”

“…Yeah. Friends,” you say, breathless from his stare. “Well…I close up in about 30 minutes, but I have to put a work order in for the HVAC so, might be close to 45 minutes before I’m back in my room. So…you could uhm…” He looks around a bit awkwardly.”

“Right, yeah, I’ll, pack my stuff. Not a lot. Just here to write and…well you didn’t ask…” he says quickly as he starts stuffing things in a backpack.

“Hah, no worries. Just come to reception when you’re ready.”

“Yeah, cheers, man. Thank you.” No man has ever given you such a sincere thank you. Not here at least. Here, you were the fix-it and go-get-it boy. People said “thank you” but that’s because they knew you were just doing what you’re told. This guy seemed to genuinely appreciate you already. It was a strange, warm feeling. It felt nice, but that didn’t mean you needed to imagine him bundled up under a blanket on your couch as he typed away at his computer or what it might feel like to warm his hands with yours. It’s just a nice, friendly feeling. At least that’s what you tell yourself.

About an hour later, you’re wondering if he’s actually coming. You run through the different scenarios. Maybe the heater fixed itself (unlikely). Maybe he found somewhere else to stay (unsafe considering the roads, but fair). Or he noticed how you looked at him for a bit too long between sentences (highly likely, valid, and worthy of banishment). But the creak of the lodge door pulls you from your worries, and there he is. He gives you the same shy lopsided smile and awkwardly stands at the check-in desk. “Hi…do you have a honeymoon suite with a hot tub and mini bar available?” He asks sheepishly. His little attempt at breaking the tension is adorable and makes you chuckle.

“I am sooo sorry, but that suite is for couples only. So unless you’ve got someone you can call…” you tease. He rolls his eyes and laughs.

“Quite the single-phobic policy. Bet you came up with that one, yeah?” he shoots right back with a cocked eyebrow.

“I did. I get the satisfaction of hating lucky, happy couples when I book them and disappointing single people when I turn them away.” You shrug. “Just bring everyone down with me.”

He snorts but his face goes back to serious and stoic. “What a charming young man. Bet the girls love that.”

“They would if they could get me,” you joke as you look at your nails. He gets your meaning immediately and shakes his head.

“Oh, so we will definitely be friends then.” You’ve never locked up the lodge faster, but you don’t make it up to your room just yet. He presses you against the door, his excitement resting between his thigh and your ass. You let out a shaky sigh as his hands run down your sides. It’s a firm grip that tightens when he leans in pants against your ear. “How big’s that bed of yours up there, hm?”

“Big enough…” you grind back into him, “for spooning. Someone on top of the other. Take your pick.” He growls against your neck and timidly lets his hand trail below your belt. “Wait!”

He pulls back quickly with his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” He looks miserable and worried, making your heart melt.

“No, no,” you shoot forward and cup his face. “I just need to know your name.” He smiles has your thumb rubs over his bottom lip. You give him your name and lean forward a bit more. “And who do I have the privilege of sharing my bed with tonight?” His hands run down your back and cups your ass.

“Call me Ves,” he purrs before placing a sweet, chaste kiss on your pout. “….was that ok,” he asks, whispering shyly. Your eyes are still squeezed shut as you process how sweet he is all while being so goddamn tempting. You can only answer by leaning back in for another kiss. His face feels perfect in your rough hands, which are weathered from the cold and having to do so much work around the lodges. But he wants you to stay put. His arms snake around you as your fingers move to hold him right behind his ears. Ves moans in your mouth and gives your ass a firm squeeze. “Fuck, mate,” he pants.

“Hmm…is that what you’re into? Playing with your ‘mates’?” You chuckle with your tongue out.

“You have no idea.”

It’s a race to your attic apartment. Ves pops you with a little spank as he gets past you on the stairs. “Idiot. You won’t know which way to go with out me,” you call up to him. Damn this weasel of a man is fast. When you get to the second story corridor, he’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a sly smirk across his perfect lips.

“Does it always take you that long?”

“Are you always that fast,” you tease back as you unlock the door. Ves steps into your humble abode and puts his stuff down. It’s much toastier in here than most of the cabins, which almost seems unfair. He looks a bit sheepish, like maybe he’s changing his mind. “Hey…alright there?”

Ves looks up with a little smile. “You’re being…outrageously kind to me. And…hot. Why me?”

The question gives you pause. You consider your answer for a bit because you’re not doing this for moral gain and certainly not just to get laid. “I’ve worked a lot of stressful shifts here. I’ve had a stressful life. You’re one of the few strangers who has never asked me for anything. You were ready to freeze to keep me ‘inconvenienced,’ which by the way was just your perspective. So I ask you this…Ves…why not you?”

This elicits an eyeroll and tsk. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“Like what?”

“The kind that…fuck…makes a pathetic man like me fall in love too fast.”

“Takes one to know one, perhaps…?”

In two quick steps he’s on you again. One hand holds the back of your head while the other snakes under your shirt. His hands are still cold, making you shiver. Ves pulls away for a second to chuckle at you before licking softly into your mouth. You capture his tongue between your lips and move as if you’re sucking him off. A throaty pathetic moan reverbs against your lips before you both stumble to the couch in a jumbled embrace. Ves stands up just to look down at you with a ravenous stare. “You want it?”

You’re out of breath as you sit lazily on the couch, head spinning. “Want…want…what?”

Ves smiles a little and his chest heaves a bit faster with his breath. “You know…don’t you.”

The thrill of finding another non-straight stranger who is your type clouded your judgements and inhibitions but it comes crashing down when you’re faced with this decision. You weren’t much of a thrill seeker like this. Hook-up culture wasn’t your thing but this felt different. Something rewarding could maybe come from this. But you also felt safe enough to say, “no. I don’t want it. I’ve never…never done it with another guy…but I know I want you, Ves. Would you still have me? Even if I’m…I’m not ready?”

The softness and tenderness in his face makes you want to cry. Is this moment even real? Ves shakes his head and chuckles softly. “You could make me sleep on this couch right now and never touch me again, and I would still wait for you to be ready.”

Your mouth quirks up in a surprised smile, your words sputtering a little as you take in the nicest thing you’ve heard from a lover. “What are you, a poet? And…why me?” you whisper.

Ves waves off your first question with a groan. “Why not you, hm?” Without moving your gaze you unbuckle your belt and start to take off your jeans. Ves kneels between your legs and takes over getting you naked. He’s not wasting anytime. You can see the flames of lust in his eyes as they land on your cock for the first time. He licks his lips and cracks his neck. “Got a preference? Hands versus mouth, that is.”

You want to say ‘anything please daddy whatever you think,’ but that’s a bit much right off the bat. “Uhm uh…no preference. Love both, honestly.”

Ves nods and grins as he moves closer. He massages your warm, hairy thighs and bites his lips as your tummy moves up and down quickly. “You like that? Muscles are tight…you work too much, huh?” He moves his hands up to lift your shirt, smiling and moaning softly as more of your skin is revealed. Leaning over, he places feather light kisses down your chest and stomach, his hoodie creating a soft, warm barrier between his body and your shaft. You’re desperate to feel him but there’s something about a guy on his knees looking cuddly and adorable and being desperate for your cock. He makes a show of kissing your belly and making his way to your lap again. He lets his left hand trail lazily along your stomach as he finally takes your cock. His eyes close but his face betrays how he really feels—he’s in heaven. A soft moan vibrates against you as he works only a bit of you at a time. This shallow mouth fucking is teasing but you feel like he’ll make it worth your while. He pulls off and lets a line of spit coat the head of your cock to keep it nice and lubed. Ves jerks your cock with a deft touch that makes your brain go blank. It looks exquisite in his wide hand…he makes it look exquisite.

“Ffffffuck, babe” you moan with your eyes rolling back. Your hand tangles with his hair when he sucks you again. You have no intention of maneuvering him, but you’re desperate to show any kind of affection. He doesn’t look up at you as he sucks you off, just closes his eyes and lets himself enjoy you. A strangled moan rips through you as Ves lowers his head further, letting the head of your cock just tap at his throat. “God…fuck Ves slow…slow down….”

Ves quickly retreats and sits back on his knees, panting. His lips are puffy and wet…he looks like a good boy. “Sorry.” You reply by sitting forward and pulling him in for a kiss. He pulls at your bottom lip with his, making your growl softly.

“Don’t apologize. You should be proud.” You move his hair a bit out of place to caress his temples. “Never apologize for being a good boy.”

Ves shakes his head and mixes a laugh with a sigh. “None of that, please.” You lean over and give him a chaste peck.

“I’m sorry. Can I make it up to you? With that Ves is on his feet pulling down his boxers and sweats. He moves to take off his hood but you stop him. “I like how it looks,” you say plainly before fixing your gaze to his throbbing cock. Before long it’s in your mouth…and he’s louder than you expected. His whimpers and grunts fill the room, interrupted only by your own moans and the occasional wet crackle of your throat being gently fucked. He can’t get his speaking voice above a whisper.

“You’re….you’re so good. Oh that’s it…fuuuuuck, love.” Ves holds your head with both hands and looks down at you. “I think you’re the good boy…you like hearing shit like that, huh?” His voice gets louder. “Like being used and praised?” He wrenches you off of him and stares at you as he tries to catch his breath. “Where’s your bed, mate?”

If you weren’t cock-drunk and totally gone for him you might be mad that he was still calling you “mate” but there was something about this chance encounter between barely-acquaintances that made it irresistible. You hop up and lead him to your room where you pull back your covers and land face first in your pillows. Ves pinned you against him, his hard cock rubbing against your ass as he writhes on you. He kisses and bites as your neck when your head falls back. His hand finds your cock again, and you revel in the warmth. “Feels s’fucking good,” you moan out. Your hand quickly shoots behind you to stroke Ves’s cock, but he stops you.

“Roll over, darling,” he growls against your skin. “Want to watch you.” You squirm and turn around to face him—he’s already stroking himself. “Show me what you like.”

“A-a-a-re you sure? You don’t want m-“

“Shh shh shh shh. Stroke yourself for me. Let’s watch each other.” You nod and bite your lip as you stroke yourself for him. After doing this an infinite number of times yourself, fucking your fist in front of Ves…it’s erotic. Pure pleasure for the sake of pleasure. He murmurs for you to “C’mere.” Desperate little kisses pepper your lips as the head of Ves’s cock rubs against your own, making your both moan into each others mouths.

“I’m not going to last long,” you huff.

“Me neither…s’fucking hot.”

“No, that’s you…”

Ves growls softly and quickly lifts his hoodie. “I’m imagining what you’d look like…ffffuck….bent over for me.” As he soon as he voices his fantasy, you’re imagining it too and bucking your hips into you fist harder.

“Keep talking.”

“You’d be…so…so good for me,” he whispers, “so fun to play with…just…fuck reach around and—“

He’s cut off by your gasping moan and how hot your cum is running over his knuckles…soon enough he’s cumming, too.

After you get cleaned up, you come to a little. What did you just do? Ves notices how solemn you’ve become and rubs your back. He asks if you want him to leave. You lean in, holding his face, and kiss him deeply. “Stay with me. Let’s figure this out together.”

Ves threads your hair through his fingers and studies your face. “Together.”

[punksyeet]

- Anniversary ❥

Plot: A little glimpse into how Gianna (OC) and Josh spend their two year anniversary.

Warning: Hefty flirting and mature language!

** Josh’s POV **

My eyes blink open as the bright sunshine peeks through our bedroom window.

I automatically reach for my phone and look at the time and date.

It's 11:17am on August 18th.

Today's the day. Two whole years with my babygirl.

I place my phone down on the nightstand beside me and turn back around to see my beautiful lady peacefully sleeping.

As she snores her perfectly light snores, I smile and brush a curl out of her face.

My gorgeous girl. How did I get so lucky? And how has it only been 2 years? It feels like it's been forever.

I press a gentle kiss to her temple.

She gently stirs in her sleep, and curls her perfect lips into a beautiful smile.

I smile back. "Good morning. Happy two years babygirl."

"Happy two years honey," she replies, half whisper-half voice, with her eyes still closed.

I cup her face with one hand, stroking her soft cheek with my thumb.

Her lids slowly but surely flutter open, revealing her gorgeous coffee-brown eyes.

I get lost in them every time. She's just so stunning.

She smiles even wider once she sees me and reaches over to play with my messy bed-headed mullet. "You look handsome this morning."

I chuckle and lean in, pressing my lips to hers.

She automatically kisses back, wrapping her arm around my neck and pulling me in deeper.

After a few strokes, our lips separate, and I trail kisses onto her cheek and down her neck.

"So," I begin, pulling away. "I have tonight on lock. What would you like to do today?"

She smirks and puckers her lips. "Well..."

I raise an eyebrow. "I know that look. What do you have up your sleeve ma'am?"

She giggles, reaching for her phone on the nightstand. "Well, since it's our anniversary, I figured I shouldn't be the only one that enjoys it."

I sigh. "Baby you know I enjoy every moment we're together."

"I know," she says, smiling and proceeds to kiss my cheek. "But I wanted to plan something special too."

She taps her screen a few times before flipping her screen towards me.

I lean in and read the words the small print.

Tickets to the 49ers pre-season game today?

Am I dreaming?

My jaw drops. "Babe. You didn't."

She giggles. "But I did!"

I sit there in shock for a bit longer before pulling her into the tightest hug.

She bursts into laughter and hugs me back.

"I love you. So much." I mumble and kiss her cheek over and over and over again.

"I love you too baby," she replies between giggles.

We hug for a bit longer before she pulls away and kisses the corner of my mouth.

"The game is at 1:15, babe. We should probably get ready soon."

I smile and nod before gently grabbing either side of her face and pressing my lips to hers.

We share a few pecks before getting out of bed.

** Gianna's POV **

Josh and I just finished up our shower and are now getting ready for the day.

We recently bought 49ers bomber jackets so I throw mine on along with a black cropped tube top, light denim jeans, my Nike Chicagos, a red headband, jewelry, and a black bag.

Josh picks out his jacket alongside a white 49ers hoodie, black sweats, his red and white Jordan 11s, my favorite silver chain, earrings, and a black beanie.

"You ready to go baby?" Josh calls from downstairs.

"Almost!" I reply, adjusting my hair to my liking.

"Alright! I'll go start the car!" he calls back and I hear the front door close.

I spray some of his favorite perfume, check that I have everything in my purse, and head out.

—————————————————————————————————

The game just ended.

Josh joins nearly the entire stadium filled with fans in jumping up and cheering at the final score: 16-10.

I can confidently say that I had zero idea what was happening the entire time, but the goal was to make my man happy. And boy was he ever!

"Thank you again mama," he coos pulling me into a hug. "I love you."

I smile and kiss his cheek before resting my chin on his shoulder. "You're so welcome lovebug. I love you more."

Hand in hand, we exit the stadium, occasionally getting stopped by fans to take pictures.

The car ride home is filled with conversations about the game, laughs, kisses, and jam sessions.

—————————————————————————————————

Josh made a 7:00 reservation at our favorite Italian restaurant, so we're headed home to freshen up and change into fancier attire.

I pick out one of Josh's favorite dresses on me: a long white one that hugs my body in all the right places, clear heels, and jewelry.

"You ready yet ma?" Josh calls from the bedroom.

"Almost!" I call back, doing some finishing touches on my hair and makeup in the bathroom mirror.

He suddenly appears in the doorway and licks his lips, scanning my body up and down. "Lord, I gotta personally thank your parents one day."

I playfully roll my eyes and giggle as he comes up from behind me and slides his hands up and down my sides.

"You look a lil too fine right now baby," he mumbles in my ear, causing me to get goosebumps and he feathers light kisses on my neck. "And you smell good too."

I smile, biting my lower lip gently. "Why thank you."

"And this ass in this dress," he continues, caressing my ass, and gently squeezing it.

I turn before he can do any further damage, and wrap my arms around his neck. "Baby we're gonna be late."

He sighs and sticks out his bottom lip.

I smile and kiss it. "Don't worry baby. You'll get what you're looking for later."

I kiss his cheek and prance away.

He smirks and slaps my ass then follows me downstairs.

————————————————————————————————-

We just got to the restaurant.

"Table for 2? The reservation is under Joshua." Josh tells the hostess.

She nods and taps her iPad a few times before looking up. "Alrighty! You folks can follow....wait! You guys are Jey Uso and Gianna Nicole!"

I smile warmly. "Yes we are. It's nice to meet you!"

Josh looks down at me smiling and wraps an arm around my waist before looking back at her.

"My sister and I are huge fans! Do you mind signing something....anything for me?" she asks, still fangirling.

He chuckles. "Not at all, love. You got a napkin or something?"

"Uhhh..." she scrambles around the hostess stand and finds a notepad. "Here we go!"

She pushes it towards us and we both sign a piece of paper.

"Thank you guys so much! I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting! Follow me!"

I giggle. "It's no problem at all, girl."

Josh keeps his arm around my waist as we follow her to our table.

"Thanks so much again! I really appreciate this!" she coos, as we sit down.

"Anytime love," I reply and we share a warm hug.

She walks over to Josh and they hug as well.

Soon enough, she's off and back to the front, leaving us alone.

The table is so romantically set up: a bouquet of roses alongside some single stems, a bucket of our favorite wine and two glasses, as well as a gorgeous view of the city.

"Baby this is beautiful," I coo, as he takes my hand from across the table. "Thank you."

He smiles and kisses my knuckles. "Not nearly as beautiful as you. But it'll do."

I blush slightly as our waiter comes over.

I order fettuccine carbonara and Josh orders lobster ravioli.

Once the food arrives, Josh holds up his wine glass and makes a toast. "Cheers to you my love. Happy anniversary."

I smile and hold mine up as well. "Cheers to us, honey. Happy two years."

We clink our glasses together and take a sip before digging into our food.

—————————————————————————————————

We just pulled back up to the house.

I groan and melt into the passenger seat.

Josh looks over with a raised eyebrow. "You good ma?"

I nod. "Everything tasted amazing, but I think I'm in a food coma."

He chuckles and rubs my stomach. "Why don't we get you inside, huh?"

I nod and he gets out, comes around, and takes my hand, helping me out of the car.

I grab the flowers from the back seat.

He kisses my cheek and we walk to the front door.

Josh unlocks the door and as soon as it flies open, so do my eyes.

There's roses and candles everywhere, making a pathway up to our bedroom, and soft music playing lowly.

"B-babe?" I stutter, in complete shock.

He chuckles, takes the roses from my hand, puts them on the tiny table next to the door, closes and locks it, and takes my hand.

"Come with me beautiful," he coos and leads us upstairs.

Still in shock, I follow as we make our way to the bedroom, where there's even more flowers and red heart balloons hanging from the ceiling.

"Baby I..." my voice trails off as he wraps his hands around my waist.

"Shhh," he whispers and kisses my neck.

I lightly moan, holding the back of his neck and tilting my head to give him more access.

Soon enough, he lightly pushes me onto the bed and....let's just say anniversary sex hits different!

I wrap my leg around his, my left hand rubbing his back, and right hand and head pressed to his chest.

His right hand is around my waist, stroking my sides and ass.

"How did you even do this?" I ask breathlessly. "We were home only a couple hours ago."

He chuckles and kisses my temple. "Let's just say we have some very kind siblings."

I giggle softly. "I should've known. This has Trin written all over it."

He nods smiling. "I'm just shocked they didn't put everything to good use before we did."

"Joshua!" My jaw flies open and I playfully whack his shoulder.

He bursts into laughter and cuddles me even tighter.

I grab my phone from the nightstand and text Trin.

Sista 🥰🫶🏽: Thank you guys 🥹🫶🏽

Trin 💋: You're so welcome babygirl 🫶🏽 Now go get someeeee!

Me: You already know I wasted no time 😩

Trin 💋: OOOOOP IKTR 🙂‍↕️☝🏽

I audibly laugh and set my phone back onto the table.

Josh looks down at me and smiles. "Whatchu laughin at?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I respond, flicking my hair off my shoulder.

He smirks and gently squeezes my cheeks, pulls my face up, and shoves his tongue into my mouth.

Soon enough, we're sharing our 4th makeout session of the night.

And you can't blame me.

Those plump lips and thick ass tongue.

Whew!

—————————————————————————————————

We just finished up our bath, which of course, had more rose petals and candles.

Josh wraps me into a soft and fuzzy robe, smiling down at me. "You're adorable."

I look down and automatically blush.

He takes my chin and gently lifts it, pressing his plump and warm lips to mine.

I kiss back and take his hand, leading him back into the bedroom.

"Where we goin ma?" he asks, following close behind.

"I have another surprise for you," I reply, walking us towards the bed. "Sit."

He chuckles and sits down on the bed, as I head over to our closet and pull out a gift bag.

He takes it and looks up at me. "Baby you didn't have to. The game was more than enough."

I place my finger to his lips. "Shhh. Open it."

He shakes his head smiling and digs into the bag, before pulling out a box.

He raises his eyebrow out of curiosity and opens it, revealing a gold Cuban link chain.

His jaw practically falls to the floor as he looks back up at me.

"It's to match your silver one!" I explain happily, wrapping my arm around his shoulder. "Do you like it?"

"Baby," he begins. "I love it. But this....this is....a lot."

I smile, slightly shrugging. "Sure. But you're worth every penny, Josh. You treat me like a princess and I wanted to show you that I'm forever grateful."

He sets the gift bag down and takes my hands. "You didn't need to spend over a thousand dollars to prove your love to me, babygirl. I appreciate it. I really do. But..."

I cut him off. "Joshua, shush. After all that you did for me today, let alone for the past 2 years we've been together, I can spend a fuck ton of money on you if I want. Now take the damn chain."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "Gianna Macri, I can't with you."

I fold my arms, still pretending to be mad, although it's taking everything in me not to laugh with him.

He wraps his arms around my waist and plants kisses on my stomach. "I love you pretty mama."

Pretty mama.

The one nickname that, he knows damn well, will make me break in any and every situation.

I finally give in, playfully roll my eyes and smile. "I love you too."

He puckers his lips and I giggle, leaning down, cupping his face, and pressing my lips against his.

He pulls me down and attacks my face with kisses.

I burst into laughter and squirm around on the bed.

I love this man so much.

Liked by uceyjucey, trinity_fatu, jonathanfatu, wwe, and 2M others

giannamacri the past 730 days have been an absolute dream. from the second i laid eyes on you, i knew i found the love of my life and the person i'd want to experience everything with. joshua fatu, i thank you. thank you for treating me like a princess, for loving me for who i am, and for allowing me to love you. every day without i fail, i feel like the luckiest girl in the world. they say nobody is perfect but baby, you come close. i love you endlessly. two years down, forever to go. 🤍

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uceyjucey I love you ma ❤️

trinity_fatu Love you both so much 🥹🥰🫶🏽

wwe Happy anniversary! ❤️

Liked by giannamacri, jonathanfatu, zillafatu, rikishi, and 1.2M others

uceyjucey Happy anniversary to my everything, my lady, my queen, my babygirl, my rock, and the love of my life. Getting to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep with you in my arms every night has been the biggest honor. I'll always admire your work ethic, your kind heart, and your selflessness. I have zero idea what I did to deserve you but one thing is for sure: I'm the luckiest man in the world. I love you mama. Forever us. 🤞🏽❤️

View all 12.7k  comments

giannamacri forever baby 🥹🫶🏽

jonathanfatu ❤️

rikishi Love you both 🩸❤️

Tag List: @uceyliyahh ♡

^^ If you'd like to be added, feel free to leave a comment below! <3

Check out my wattpad and twitter! 💟

Follows, feedback, and reblogs appreciated! 🧚‍♀️

[xmads-omensx]

Word Count: 1,751

Pairing: best friend!Noah X Reader

Content Warnings: house party, vague mentions of drinking, Noah is bad at feelings, swearing, angst

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lacy1986 @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @chey-h @tosoundlessdarkistare @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp

Thank you @alwaysfightforwhoyouare for the inspiration I live you so much <3

I knew it was wrong, ogling Noah like I was, but I couldn’t help it.

He had come down from his bedroom in black slacks and his signature black tank top, looking sleek, handsome and downright sexy.

I tried to make my brain shut up.

Noah was my best friend and I should not be thinking about him like this.

Besides, I knew what he had to offer since we hooked up following an extremely drunken night out after a show about a year ago.

We had awoken in the same bed, naked and tangled up together.

Noah had brushed it off as nothing important, which had hurt me, and we were definitely not as close as we once were, but he was still my best friend.

The sofa where I was sat dipped, making me take my focus off of the heavily tattooed man in the kitchen and instead put it onto a guy in a green bomber jacket and a black beanie.

I had seen him before at a few other parties and social gatherings, but I wasn’t too sure who he actually was.

From what I could remember Matt telling me, he was one of the sound engineers for Spiritbox, but I couldn’t be sure.

“Hey gorgeous.” He began in a slightly nasally voice. I hated it when guys I didn’t know called me pet names.

“Hi.” I replied, slightly awkwardly.

“I’m Jonah.” He stuck his hand out towards me. I shook it tentatively. “And who might you be, gorgeous?”

“Y/N.” I replied simply.

“A gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl.” Jonah said gorgeous too much. I didn’t like it. “So, Y/N, are you single?” He asked.

I took a big gulp of my drink before nodding yes.

He grinned. I liked that even less.

“How about we get out of here? Have some fun? You know, just the two of us?” I cringed.

I was about to decline when two large hands wrapped around my waist, picking me up and placing me onto a firm lap.

The scent of Dior Sauvage filled my nostrils. Noah.

“You having fun baby?” He spoke quietly into my ear, just loud enough for Jonah to hear.

He squeezed my hip, encouraging me to reply to him.

“Yeah baby I am.” I replied with a giggle. This whole situation felt ridiculous and slightly stupid.

“Good.”  Noah said, making direct eye contact with Jonah, making him scurry away.

I burst out laughing, finally able to acknowledge the hilarity of the situation.

Noah didn’t.

“What’s up babe? Not having fun?” I asked in my best Noah impression that I could muster.

He remined blank faced.

“Are you alright?” I asked, instantly worried about my best friend. He never normally acted like this.

Noah simply nodded at me, not saying anything right away. “Yeah, just in my head I guess.”

“Do you want to get out of here? We can go talk somewhere?” I offered, trying to reach out to my best friend.

He shook his head.

I gave his bicep a squeeze, letting him know that  was there for him if and when he needed me. Noah simply smiled up at me.

We sat like that for what felt like eternity, when Jolly came over to talk to us for a short while.

It was nice being this close to Noah again after being ever so slightly distant from eachother.

Sitting on Noah’s lap felt right in that moment, like it was where I was supposed to be. Jolly clearly didn’t care, since he hadn’t mentioned Noah and I’s sudden closeness. It wasn’t like it was a surprise to the rest of the guys as Noah and I often found ourselves entwined together on the couch during movie night, or game night, or literally any hangout ever.

I missed that closeness with him.

Pulling Noah closer to me, I wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my head lazily on his shoulder as we spoke.

“I think I’m going to head to bed now.” Noah announced when Jolly was speaking to us.

I shared a confused look with the Swede as this was relatively out of character for Noah. He never liked to go to bed when a party was still going.

“Oh okay.  Do you want me to come up with you?” I asked, simply because I wanted to make sure he was okay.

“No, you stay here. Enjoy the party.” He said, lifting me off of his lap and walking off without so much as a goodnight.

“Something is going on with him.” Jolly said as soon as Noah was out of earshot.

“You think?” I asked.

“Since that Jonah dude came over to you, he’s been agitated.” Jolly sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“Really? I wonder why?” I replied, asking the questions more so to myself than to Jolly.

The Swede laughed loudly, causing multiple other partygoers to turn and look at us. “You wonder why? It’s obvious Y/N.”

“I don’t get it.” I said with a look of pure confusion etched across my features.

“How about you go upstairs and ask him yourself.” Jolly said with a smirk, gesturing to the stairs that we had just watched Noah ascend earlier.

I hesitated for a moment, before following Noah up the stairs. Jolly still sat on the chair, giggling to himself as if he had just set up the perfect prank and was just waiting for it to fall into place.

The upstairs hallway was quiet in comparison to the party downstairs, since the partygoers weren’t allowed to venture to the guys’ bedrooms.

Soft purple light peeked through underneath Noah’s door indicating that he had switched on the LED strip lights I had bought him when we moved house.

I never usually bothered knocking on Noah’s door, but on this occasion, I felt that I should. Something was off between us, and I was terrified of overstepping.

Noah’s feet shuffled towards the door. It swung open, revealing Noah standing there in only the black slacks he had been wearing at the party.

“Sorry.” I blurted.

“It’s okay.” He replied softly.

There was a beat of mildly awkward silence before he gestured for me to come in.

His room always looked the same. His bed was neatly made and his desk was organised perfectly. There were no rogue socks littering the floor, like there was in my own room. There were no dirty cups or mugs like there was in Jolly’s room. There were no stacks of books in the corners like there was in Jesse’s room. Noah’s room was always pristine.

“So, what’s up?” Noah asked, breaking the somewhat uncomfortable silence that had descended between the two of us.

I turned my body to face my shirtless nest friend. It took all I had not to just stand there and stare at him. It was so tempting.

“I just wanted to ask if you were okay? You didn’t seem like yourself down there.” I asked softly.

His soft smile twitched as he seemed to flinch at my question.

“I’m fine, why don’t you head back down and enjoy the party?” Noah said bluntly in reply.

“I was also wondering if you wanted to hang out for a bit? We haven’t hung out in ages just the two of us and the party is getting kinda boring downstairs.” I suggested with a laugh.

“Y/N,” Noah began with a sigh, “I just want to be alone right now.”

“So you aren’t okay?” I asked, confused.

“No, I never said that.” Noah said, beginning to get defensive.

“I’m just worried that’s all. I miss you.” I tried to diffuse the situation.

“Well, stop missing me.” Noah snarled at me.

I flinched. He had never spoken to me like that before, and it threw me off.

“What is your problem?” I said, taken aback by his tone.

“My problem?” Noah laughed sarcastically.

“Yes! Your problem. Why are you acting like a complete dick?” I shouted back at him.

“I don’t have a fucking problem, you do!” He yelled back.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I snarled in reply. We never fought so it was weird hearing him yell, especially at me.

“You’re fucking doting on me all of the fucking time and it’s annoying.” He sneered at me with a sarcastic grin on his face.

“Did you ever think that I was doing that because I was worried about you, Noah?” I began angrily. “You haven’t been yourself recently and it’s freaking me out.”

“Well maybe I haven’t been myself recently because you’re pissing me off!” Noah shouted, going to open his bedroom door to see me out.

“Stop making me feel like I mean nothing to you.” I yelled, frustrated by his behaviour.

He paused and silence filled his bedroom.

“You don’t mean nothing to me, Y/N, you mean everything to me.” Noah said quietly. Too quietly.

“Then why have you been avoiding me?” I pushed. “You have barely been able to look at me since that night.”

Noah remained quiet, unable to meet my eyes.

“Did it mean nothing to you? Is that it?” I asked, angry at his silence.

“Of course not.” Noah whispered. “It meant everything.”

This time, the silence held confusion.

“Everything?” I asked.

“Yes, everything.” Noah replied, finally meeting my eyes and taking a step towards me.

I wasn’t sure what to reply with in that moment, so I just stared into his deep brown eyes as he stepped even closer to me, so close that I could feel the heat radiating off of his shirtless torso.

His large hand reached up and cupped the side of my face. I leaned into his touch slightly.

“You mean everything. That’s why I was hiding from you. I didn’t want to fuck up what we have, because it means everything to me.” Noah confessed.

“How would you fuck it up?” I asked.

Noah sighed before speaking.

“Because I am so hopelessly in love with you but you don’t feel the same. It would weird you out.” Noah explained in a whisper.

“Who says I’m not in love with you?” I asked.

“Because you’re not. You couldn’t b-“ Noah started.

I interrupted him by pulling him down to capture his lips in a kiss, shutting him up entirely.

We pulled away from the kiss, both slightly out of breath, before bursting into laughter.

“You and me?” I asked quietly.

“Always.” Noah whispered back, pulling me into another kiss.