#so I got you some pills to help against that!

[whumpdoyoumean]

13, you can choose the victim 😈

thank you :]

I loved that you let me choose the victim on this one, Nonny! It provided the perfect opportunity for me to crank out a lil fic I've been meaning to write for ages, based on a throwaway line in the lightning strike episode where Bobby tells the doctors that Buck is allergic to naproxen (:

xxx "can't ��� breathe--"

Buck sighs as he heads into the locker room. He'd had a bit of a headache when he woke up this morning and was hoping that eating breakfast would help, but it's still bothering him – nothing too serious, but enough to be an annoyance.

"Hey, Eddie," he says as Eddie opens his locker. "Do you have any ibuprofen?"

"Naw, man, I don't. Sorry about that." Eddie leans around his locker door to look at Buck with a raised eyebrow. "You okay?"

"Just a bit of a headache," Buck says. "It's not a big deal."

"You could ask Chim," Eddie says.

"Ask me what?"

Buck and Eddie look up as Chimney walks in.

"Buck's got a headache," Eddie says.

"It's really not that bad," Buck says, shooting a glance Eddie's way.

"Do you have ibuprofen?" Eddie asks Chimney, pretending he didn't hear.

"Uh, don't think so," Chim says, opening his locker. He digs around for a minute before pulling out a bottle. He looks over at Buck, giving it a little shake. "But I have Aleve. Would that work?"

"Yes, please." Buck holds his hands up, catching the bottle of pills as Chimney tosses it to him. He shakes one of the pills into his palm and pops it into his mouth, washing it down with a swig from his water bottle. He throws the bottle back to Chim. "Thanks."

"No problem, hope it helps."

Buck grins at him. "I can feel it working already."

-

The first call, barely two minutes after the start of shift, is a house fire. It's a small one, thankfully, and the homeowner had called 911 quickly so the 118 is on scene before too much damage is done. It doesn't even take ten minutes to put the flames out and secure the scene. It's an easy call.

So Buck isn't sure why he feels like this: short of breath, nauseous, a little dizzy, and shaken. This is one of the milder calls they've gotten in his time at the 118. So why does he feel like the world is ending?

"Yo, Buck," Eddie says, walking up to where Buck is leaning against the engine. "Are you gonna help pack up or what?"

"Yeah," Buck says, straightening up. "Yeah, sorry. Uh. Did you-are you feeling okay?" Maybe there was something in the house, some chemical in the smoke that's affecting him badly.

Eddie frowns, moving closer to him. "I'm fine. Are you feeling okay? Is it that headache?"

Buck shakes his head, closing his eyes when the movement makes the dizziness worse. He feels Eddie's hand tighten on his arm.

"Whoa, hey, why don't you sit down? You're really pale."

Eddie keeps his grip on Buck, lowering him to the ground. Buck sits heavily, putting his head between his knees in the hopes of helping the dizzy spell to pass.

"Talk to me, Buck," Eddie says, and Buck opens his eyes to see Eddie crouched in front of him, staring at him worriedly. "What's goin' on?"

Buck swallows thickly, and it takes more effort than it should. "I'm not exactly sure," he says, voice shaky. "I just don't feel good."

"Don't feel good how?" Eddie presses, pushing up the sleeve of Buck's turnout coat to press two fingers to the inside of Buck's wrist. "Anything hurt?"

"No, the headache's gone," Buck says. "I'm kinda...dizzy. Nauseated. 'n my chest is kind of tight. I thought maybe there was something weird in the smoke but everyone else seems fine...What?"

Eddie's brow is furrowed and he's chewing on the inside of one cheek.

"Your heart is racing," he says, sounding almost distracted. He looks over his shoulder. "I'm just gonna...Hey, Hen? Chim? Can one of you come over here?"

"Everything okay?" Chimney says, jogging over from where he and Hen had been checking over the homeowner. Bobby is right behind him.

"I was going to ask the same question," Bobby says.

Buck wants to insist that he's okay, but the tight feeling in his chest is getting worse.

"He's tachy," Eddie says. "Said he's dizzy and nauseous, and he's short of breath."

Chimney kneels next to Eddie in front of Buck, setting his bag on the ground next to him. "Okay, Buckaroo, I'm gonna need to take your blood pressure. Can you get that coat off for me?"

It takes Eddie and Bobby both helping him for Buck to get out of his turnout coat. Buck would be mortified if he weren't feeling so awful. There's an ominous darkness starting to creep in on the edges of his vision, and the noise around him is growing muffled. The only clear sound is the quiet wheezing of his own breathing as he struggles to pull air into his lungs.

"Whoa. Cap, his BP is really low," Chim says, his voice sounding far away. Buck barely hears him over his own growing panic.

"I-" he gasps, eyes wide. He's not getting enough air. His mind flashes back to his date with Abby, what feels like a million years ago now. This is like that, but there's nothing stuck in his throat. Oh, god. "Can't – breathe--"

"Eddie, I need you to go in the rig and get the EpiPen," Chim says. "Hurry. Buck, this is looking a lot like an allergic reaction. We're gonna get some epinephrine into you to help open up those airways, okay? Buck?"

Buck's chest aches, his lungs desperate for oxygen, and he's so dizzy. His head feels heavy and he leans back, his head hitting the side of the rig with a soft thunk. He can't breathe, he can't breathe, he can't--

There's a sudden sharp pain on the outside of his thigh. And then, just like that, he can breathe again. He gasps, pulling in a long breath, and then another.

"That's it," Bobby says. He's crouched on one knee next to Buck, though Buck doesn't remember him getting there. "That's it, kid. Breathe."

"Don't...don't need to tell me twice," Buck says between breaths, and Bobby smiles. Eddie, standing behind him, chuckles. "I don't understand, though. I'm not allergic to anything."

"Have you ever taken naproxen before?" It's Chim that asks. There's a guilty look on his face.

"Uh..." Buck thinks about it for a second, hand rubbing absently across his chest. "I don't think I have, no. My heart is beating really fast."

"That's the adrenaline," says Eddie. "Totally normal."

Chim is on his feet now, an anguished look on his face as clasps his hands behind his head, elbows pushed toward his ears. "Oh my god, I almost killed you."

Buck turns to him with a frown. "What?"

"The Aleve I gave you before shift." Chim groans. "Oh, god, your sister is going to kill me."

"I'm fine," Buck says. He decides not to mention the fact that he's still a little freaked out and that he kind of feels like he's going to puke. Chimney feels bad enough already. "Really."

"We'll let a doctor decide that," Hen says. "Cap, he's gonna need to be checked out at the hospital."

"Guys, really," Buck says.

"She's right, kid," Bobby says, a soft fondness in his voice. "An EpiPen isn't a substitute for medical care. You know that."

Buck sighs. "Fine."

"I'll drive," Chimney says, already headed toward the ambulance. Buck watches him walk away, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

"He's gonna be weird about this for ages," he says. Hen reaches down to squeeze his shoulder.

"Just give him a little time. You scared him, that's all."

"You scared all of us," Bobby says.

"Not for the first time," Eddie adds.

Buck looks up at all of them with a sheepish smile. "And probably not for the last."

xxx

[moody-alcoholic]

These Violent Delights

Chapter 32 - Brighter Than The Sun

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe 11.7k words. John should have read the last chapter so he knew what Hale and Graves were up to.

CW: a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes, PTSD, flashback, nightmares, night terrors, self harm (skin picking), alcohol, intoxication, vomit, hangover, death, blood, angst, hurt/comfort, implied rape/SA (via flashback), mentions of medication (sleeping pills & antidepressants), nudity, canon typical violence.

AN: I can't believe how close this story is to the end. 😭 Doing the outlines for the next few chapters has been hard.

Previous - masterlist - next

AO3

Enjoy <3

When you wake in the morning the laptop is gone and so is Kyle. You turn over in the bed and see Johnny with his eyes open and a smile on his face. 

“Morning, beautiful.” He says, it makes you blush and you shuffle closer to him. He wraps his arms around you pulling you against his chest. You look up and kiss him, he tastes sweet, his lips puffy and wet. His body is still warm from sleep, his hands run down to the small of your back pressing down. It makes you moan in his mouth and he breaks from the kiss.  

“How are you feeling?” He asks his hand comes up to brush your cheek. 

“Good.” You smile, you do feel good, better now the ache from your muscles has gone. You’re happy you got to see Simon and John, they’re safe-busy with work-but safe. 

“I thought if you were feeling up to it today we could go to the loch?” He says, you smile and nod.

“That sounds great.” You say nuzzling your face into his chest. He hums wrapping his arm around you holding you close to him. The fire in the room has died down there and one of the windows is open. You can feel a cool breeze but for once you welcome it. 

You close your eyes letting out a long breath listening to the sound of the birds outside and the steady thump of Johnny’s heart. His hand glides up and down your back, he presses on the bottom of your back pulling you closer to him. 

You look up and kiss him, pressing your tongue in his mouth, he hums and one of his hands works its way up to the back of your neck then he laces his fingers in your hair. You can’t help grinding your hips against him which makes him smile and he breaks from the kiss and looks down at you. 

The door to the room opens and you hear Kyle come in, you turn in the bed so you can see him. He walks over and reaches you pressing a kiss on your forehead. 

“C’mon. I made waffles.” Kyle says. You smile and get up following him down to the kitchen. Johnny and Kyle seem to be in good moods and it continues for the rest of the day. Kyle makes lunch while Johnny teaches you some drawing outside while the sun is up. You think it’s the only hot day you’ve ever experienced in Scotland, he teaches you how to draw trees and nature, basically what you can see in the garden and over the fields. 

He breaks out the watercolour paints after lunch and you try to draw the loch from memory but it doesn’t quite turn out as you imagined it. You like watching Johnny draw, he can do it so effortlessly he’s so sure of what he’s doing when he puts pencil to paper. He never stops talking too which you don’t mind, you soak up every bit of information he gives you about colours, line art, drawing faces. 

He shows you some of his work too, beautiful detailed drawings of mainly military things, each one with a story of why he drew it or where he was. He has plenty of drawings of Simon too, with and without the mask, some more realistic than others. After lunch you all walk down to the loch, Kyle brings a thermos and some blankets and you stay out there until the sun starts to set.

On the walk back Johnny teases you with stories of haunted woods and something called ‘the headless horseman’ which you’re pretty sure he definitely made up. It makes you laugh though and his stories are usually followed with a disapproving sigh or tut from Kyle. You don’t mind, there’s no such thing as ghosts anyway. 

By the time dinner is ready you’re already feeling exhausted. When you’ve finished eating you go for a bath and Kyle brings you a hot chocolate to drink. By the time the water has lost its temperature you’re almost falling asleep. You take the mug back downstairs and Johnny gives you your pills. He asks if there’s anything you want to pass on to John or Simon but your mind is drawing a blank, you yawn shaking your head. 

You say good night to him and Kyle before heading up to bed. As soon as you get comfy and turn the lights out you’re asleep.

You’re back in the the bunker. It had been a rough few days of tests and your body was sore. It didn’t matter to the professor though, when he wanted you, he wanted you there was no room to refuse. 

Piper came to get you with a dress in her arms. It was a nice dress, long and flowing but open at the top. You nod and get off your bed putting down the book you were reading and going over to your wardrobe. 

“No.” She says, it stops you in your tracks. “No underwear.” 

It makes you feel sick. You had a heat last month, it was horrible but at least it was only the professor with you and not his friends. You walk over to her in silence and she helps you change. She doesn’t say anything but you can smell her scent trying to calm you.

“What does he want?” You ask when you turn to look at her. Her hands land on your shoulders and she rubs up and down your arms.

“I don’t know.” She says. At least she's honest. You nod and follow her out of your room. The walk to the private lift feels like it’s over in seconds. She swipes her keycard to call it up and you swallow your nerves. She’s not projecting her scent anymore, if she does it too much you’ll go to the professor smelling like beta. 

When the lift opens she steps out of the way. You’re going alone, you smile up at her and walk in pressing the only other button that will take you down to his office and private rooms. She smiles at you as the doors close and you smile back. The journey takes mere seconds, the professor wanted to build the bunker deeper but when they dug down they hit black rock. 

It was deemed too expensive to dig through so the professor made them carve out just enough space for his office and personal quarters. The lift stops and the doors open, you step out letting out a breath and turning to look into his office. The outer walls are sharp, chiseled black stone. All the internal walls are glass, which means you can see streight into his office the moment you step off the lift, he looks up from his desk and smiles. 

You walk over to the door and knock, he hates it when you don’t knock. He nods and you enter the room. There is classical music playing, he puts whatever he was working on into the drawer on his desk then steps around with his arms outstretched coming towards you. 

He’s smiling as he lands his hands on your shoulders. He hums looking around you, for once you don’t feel as nervous. Maybe he just wants you to lay on his lap again, or maybe he just wants to talk. 

“What do you think of the dress?” He asks. 

“It’s lovely.” You say, he smiles and kisses you on your forehead. 

“Sit down.” He says gesturing at the leather sofa. You nod and he leaves you walking over to his drinks cabinet. 

“Doctor Montgomary said you had a successful heat. She managed to complete the test with no issues.” He says. You have no idea what he’s talking about, you barely remember your heat. You know they do tests but you’re not allowed to know what they’re about. At least this time it went well, he’s not always so happy about that.

You watch as he pours a glass for himself then comes over to sit next to you. He takes a sip, you can smell the alcohol already. You wish he would offer you a glass, maybe it would make things easier. You wait for him to settle, his hand rests on your thigh and he squeezes it letting out a long breath before resting back on the sofa. 

“Do you want to lay on my lap?” He asks. He’s never asked you before. You so badly want to say no. You think about it for a second before nodding your head. He smiles and you pull your legs up on the sofa before shifting and laying your head down. 

You don’t have a choice, you never have a choice, at least if you’re lucky this is all he’ll want to do tonight. He made you wear a nice dress with no underwear, so that's probably not the case. You relax, letting your scent fill the air. His hand doesn’t come down to your neck though. Instead he reaches over, putting his glass down and opening his box of cigars. 

“You know, Dr. Montgomary said if you have one more successful heat we might be able to finally figure out how to force a heat.” He says as he clips the cigar. 

“That's good.” You say, because that is what you’re expected to say. He hums, and you hear him light the cigar. A few seconds later he relaxes even further back into the sofa and you smell the sweet smoke in the air. You don’t mind that, anything is better than his alpha, besides laying on his lap- it’s not for you it’s for him. 

His hand comes down your head then eventually lands on the back of your neck. You lean your head forward as his thumb presses below the base of your skull. 

“I needed this.” He breathes. “I think you should stay here tonight. Go back in the morning.” You don’t reply, just keep still for him and swallow the lump in your throat and close your eyes. 

...

The next thing you know you’re in the shower, pressed up into the corner hugging your legs. The water hits you hot and hard, your body still shakes, you can feel the ache in between your legs. You hate nights like this when the professor just wants to have his way with you. At least he fell asleep quickly, after half a bottle of alcohol and another cigar while he fucked you from behind. 

At least that meant you didn’t have to look at his face, or in his eyes. You look up at the water letting it pound on your face, you take a deep breath in and close your eyes, it burns and stings but you let it. Suddenly water goes up your nose and down your throat. You try to move your head but you can’t. You open your eyes to see the professor with his hand around your neck. 

You can’t breathe, you fight him, kicking your legs and flailing your arms. Your lungs start to burn as more water enters your mouth as you try to call him to tell him to stop but nothing comes out. He looks angry, you must have made him mad. Maybe he’ll kill you, maybe he’ll give you that mercy. 

…

You wake with a gasp, your lungs burn, there are hands on you. You can hear voices but you can’t make out what they’re saying. You can’t breathe, you try to fight the people holding you but they’re stronger than you. You try to open your eyes but everything is blurry. 

“Christ, breathe, C’mon breathe, love.” That’s Johnny, he sounds panicked. You realise you're soaked, you cough, your throat and lungs burn throwing you into a coughing fit.

“That’s it, nice deep breaths.” That's Kyle, he’s hitting your back as you continue to cough and splutter, it’s hard to get a full breath in. A towel comes around your shoulders and your vision clears. You’re in the bathtub, the water is draining, you’re still in your pyjamas. You shiver gripping the bathtub to keep yourself steady.  

You can smell worry and fear in the air. You cough again, and Kyle pats your back helping you clear the last of your lungs. You take some deep breaths in looking up at Johnny, his worried look makes you feel horrible. On the next breath it finishes with a sob. 

“Bloody hell, we thought-” Kyle doesn’t finish his sentence his voice breaks suddenly his hand feels like a lead weight on your back. You have no idea what happened? You were in bed sleeping, now you’re in a bath soaking wet. 

“Let’s get you dry.” Johnny says standing up. He reaches down to help you up as Kyle pulls the towel tighter around you. You step out the bath, unsteady on your feet. They don’t say anything, just help you get out of your wet clothes and dry you. 

“What happened?” You finally ask when Kyle leaves the bathroom to get you fresh clothes. 

“You tell me.” Johnny says, you look up at him. The worried look has left his face at least. “Kyle was going to the bathroom. He found you in the bathtub under the water.” It makes you swallow hard, your throat is still raw, your lungs still feel like there's another litre of water in them. 

“I’m sorry.” You say looking down, his hand pulls your chin up to look at him. 

“No, not your fault.” He says, there's somthing harsher in his eyes now. “Don’t blame yourself, okay?” 

You nod feeling tears form in your eyes. He lets out a sigh, his gaze softens and he kisses you on the forehead. 

“C’mon, let's get back to bed, and maybe a cup of something warm.” You nod and follow him out the room back into the master bedroom. Kyle is still looking through the bags in the bedroom when you walk in wrapped in the towel and Johnny’s arms. He comes over to you running his hand over the top of your head. 

“I’ll boil the kettle.” Johnny says his arms are leaving you. “What do you want, cup of tea?” You nod and walk over to Kyle sitting on the bed. He sits next to you, the fire has been stoked and the room is warm again. Kyle’s arm comes around your back and you lean your head on his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry I scared you.” You say, his other hand comes to lay on your thigh. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay. That's all that matters.” You know he’s trying to sound reassuring but you can still feel it on him, his arm is tense around you, his scent is still filled with worry and fear. You reach down to his hand lacing your fingers with his. He stops you turning your hand over so your palm is facing up. 

His thumb brushes over the scars on your palms, it makes you shiver and you wrap your hand around his thumb. You don’t know what to say, you don't know what will help him. Instead you just project your scent for him. 

“I was dreaming about the professor.” 

“Shh, we don’t have to talk about it.” He says. Johnny comes back into the room with a cup and a glass of water. He places it on the bedside table and hands you the glass of water and some pills. 

“I usually only take one,” you say, recognizing them as the sleeping pills. 

“Piper said it was okay if you were having trouble sleeping.” He says. You nod and reach out, swallowing them down. Your stomach feels full for some reason, it's hard to swallow them down. When you hand the glass back to Johnny you get up and change into pyjamas before they help you get into bed. 

They both climb in with you although Johnny stays on the outside of the sheets and passes you the hot mug of tea. You sip it while Kyle wraps his arms around you and you lean up against him. They don’t say anything, just hold you and let their scent relax you. It’s nice, calming, it's just what you need but your mind starts to wander to the dream.

“I used to sit in the professor's shower. That's what I was dreaming about.” You leave out the first part of the dream, no need to upset them anymore. Johnny sighs and rubs your leg turning his body so he can look at you better. You sip your tea, using it to give you a second to breathe. 

“I don’t know how but suddenly he was there with me, he was choking me.” You say taking another sip. They don’t say anything, you’re not sure if they’re giving you time to talk or they don’t know what to say. Kyle holds you tighter like he’s worried you’d vanish.

“You’re safe here.” Johnny says rubbing your leg, you look up at him and nod. You don’t want to upset them more than you already have. You sip your tea in silence letting them hold you and run their hands over you. Eventually you start feeling sleepy and before you can stop yourself your body relaxes further against Kyle and your eyes start to droop closed. 

Johnny takes the half drunk mug from your hand as Kyle helps you lay down and get comfortable. Johnny goes to turn the bedside light off. 

“Leave it on.” You say yawning. He smiles leaning over to kiss you on your cheek. 

“You get some rest, Kyle will stay with you.” He says you nod and smile relaxing into his arms. He pulls you close against him and presses his nose into your neck. 

“I love you.” He says as Johnny leaves the room.

“I love you too.” You say closing your eyes and focusing on Kyle’s warm breath on your neck. 

...

Piper was just about to go to bed when she saw the call come through on her laptop. She rolled over on her stool to accept it. When she does she see’s Kyle leaned over the laptop with a worried luck on his face. It makes the hair stand up on the back of her neck. Something’s wrong. 

“We’re just waiting for John.” He says, something is definitely wrong.

“What happened?” She asks. “Is the omega okay?” 

“Sleeping.” Kyle says. She waits patiently for John to join the call, the seconds feel like minutes. When he joins Piper watches as his face turns to concern. 

“Piper.” He says he moves the laptop so Simon can see. Even under his mask Piper can see him frown. “What's going on?”

“She had a nightmare, a bad one.” Kyle says as he stands up. Johnny walks into view.

“Is she okay? Are you okay?” John asks.

“We’re all fine, she’s sleeping.” Kyle says. Piper swallows the lump in her throat.  

“What happened?” Simon asks.

“She went to bed early, Kyle went to take a piss found her in the bath.” Johnny pauses. “Under the water.” Piper feels her stomach drop-she feels sick. She clenches her jaw looking at John’s expression. Simon stands up so she can’t see his face anymore.

“Johnny gave her a double dose of her sleeping meds, she was pretty upset about the whole thing.” Kyle says. He’s nervous now, they both are when Johnny’s not adding to the conversation he's pacing with a radio in his hand. 

“Did she say what the dream was about?” Piper asks, her voice strangely level. 

“She was in Hales' shower, then suddenly he was choking her.” Kyle says. Piper swallows, her throat feels suddenly dry, she’s not sure what to say. 

“As soon as we pulled her out of the water she woke up.” 

“Someone should be with her now.” John says. Johnny stops pacing and holds up the radio.

“The other one is in her room.” He says. 

“Like a baby monitor.” Kyle says. It makes Piper smile, you’re safe with them even if your nightmares are getting worse. 

“Piper?” It takes her a second to realise John is calling her, she looks over at him and takes a breath. 

“I don’t think she was trying to hurt herself. Her body would have woken her up if it wasn’t getting oxygen or if water entered her lungs.” Piper says she's not sure how true that is, people die in house fires without waking up. She’s trying to be reassuring but it doesn’t seem to help the mood. 

“I can fly back tonight. Be back in the UK in a few hours, get an overnight train to Edinburgh, Johnny can pick me up, I'll be back in under 24 hours.” Simon says, John lets out a sigh pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I can talk to her tomorrow. Act like I don’t know what happened let her open up about it.” She suggests.

“What about medication, is there anything we can do?” John asks, she sighs again. 

“Short term no. Anything like antidepressants can take months to work effectively. The sleeping pills should help, I would recommend upping them to 2 a night anyway if anything they should knock her out enough that she won’t get out of bed.” She explains. 

John sighs and sits back in the chair. Simon hasn’t moved but his arms are crossed now. “What about her talks with you?” John asks. 

“We haven’t had much time to talk because of her heat. Even then it’s going to be a long process. This level of PTSD and trauma could take months- years to heal.” She sighs. “I will keep trying though.” 

“We stick to the plan. We shouldn’t move if we don’t have to. If things get worse you know you can go to Piper.” John says. Sending you here would be a bad idea, she already made that clear to John. Putting you back underground could be way worse for you, but it is a secure MI6 facility no way Hale would be able to get to you. 

“We’ll keep a closer eye on her. Make sure she’s not alone, even when she’s sleeping.” Kyle says. John nods, leaning forward again. 

“You should get some rest, it's late over there. We can talk more tomorrow, after Piper has had a chat with her.” John says. Piper watches as they all say goodbye and John leaves the call. She’s not sure if she should go too. 

“Are you both okay?” She asks. Johnny stops looking at the laptop. 

“Yeah.” He says. She waits for Kyle to respond. 

“I thought-for a second-I was too late.” Kyle says, Johnny's hand comes to rest on his shoulder. 

“It’s okay. If you need to talk you know how to contact me.” She says. Kyle smiles as Johnny squeezes his shoulder. 

“Thank you. We’re more worried about her though.” Johnny says. 

“She’ll be okay. She’s stronger than you think. It’s not the first time something like this has happened.” She says. Kyle nods, and Johnny sighs.

“We’ll talk tomorrow.” Kyle says. She smiles as the call ends. She squeezes her eyes closed letting out a sigh. There’s no shower at Johnny’s house or you would have ended up there, instead you tried to drown yourself. Both alpha’s leaving was a worse idea then she thought. 

The next morning when you go down for breakfast the laptop is already open on the kitchen island. 

“Morning.” Johnny says looking up from whatever he’s cooking on the stove. He turns it off, coming over as you sit up on the stool. He wraps his arms around you, pressing a kiss in your neck.

“How do you feel?” He asks. 

“Okay.” you say, wrapping your arms around his. 

“Good,” he hums into your neck. “I thought if you were feeling up to it we could go out for dinner at the pub?” 

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” You smile. You wouldn’t mind that, going out to the warm inviting pub. 

“Great.” He says before squeezing you one more time and going back over to the stove. You hear the kitchen door open behind you. Kyle comes over to you his hand rests on the top of your back. 

“Morning.” He says kissing the top of your head, You turn and smile at him as he sits next to you.

“Johnny said we could go to the pub today.” You say, Kyle reches over picking up a slice of toast. 

“Sounds like fun. We don’t have a car though.” Kyle says. 

“I’ll sort out a lift, worst case we have to get a taxi.” Johnny says. He passes you a mug and the jug of milk. 

“Maybe you should talk to Piper today, about last night.” Kyle suggests. You pause for a second then pour the milk into your tea. You don’t really want to talk about it, you would much rather just move on. You nod though, they are right and Piper would want you to talk if she knew what happened. 

Johnny makes you jam on toast without you even asking and you eat every bite. They keep the conversion light they talk about what Simon and John have been up to in America. It sounds like just a lot of sitting around and watching security feeds. They’ve been trying to track where Shadow Company have been going to but they seem to lose them over the state border. 

It’s only been 12 days, not even 2 weeks and it still feels like they’ve been gone forever. Your protective heat was weird, and Johnny and Kyle claimed you. You didn’t tell John or Simon last time you spoke to them.

“Do John and Simon know you claimed me?” You ask, suddenly interrupting their conversation. They look at each other, your hand goes to your shoulder. 

“No, we thought maybe you would want to do that.” Johnny smiles. You run your hand over the indents, you can feel them even through your clothes, you rest your hand where you can feel both of them at once. 

“I think we should tell him.” You say smiling and picking up another slice of toast. 

“How about before we go to the pub, it’ll be morning for them by then.” Kyle suggests. You nod letting your hand drop as his hand comes to stroke your thigh. 

… 

Later in the day Kyle sets the laptop up for you to talk to Piper. He kisses your forehead and leaves you alone to talk with her. You’re not sure if you want to talk about what happened but at least Piper might understand better. Your pack just gets mad, curses out the professor then vows to hunt him down and kill him. 

Piper knows what life was like in the bunker, what life was like with Hale. “Hey hun.” She smiles as her face pops up on the screen. 

“Hey,” you smile back leaning forward. 

“How are you feeling?” She asks. You don’t know what to say.

“I-” You choke on the words. “I don’t know.” 

She scrunches her eyebrows looking confused, worried. You’re not quite sure. Before you can stop yourself you start picking at the skin around your fingers. “Is everything okay?” 

“I had a nightmare last night.” You admit, you don’t know why it makes you feel guilty. You should feel guilty, you scared Johnny and Kyle. You could have died, you had no control over your actions. 

“I ended up in the bathtub. Johnny and Kyle found me and pulled me out.” You say, she looks sad, worried you're still not sure but she sits there letting you talk. 

“I dreamt about the professor, I was going to meet him for the evening. He bought me a nice dress and smoked one of his cigars.” You say, you always remember the smell of the cigars, it would linger on your clothes like his scent. So even when his scent faded you could still had a reminder. 

“Then the next thing I remember I was in the shower after we’d.” You stop, you don’t want to say it but you take a breath. “Then he was choking me. That's all I remember before I woke up.” 

She presses her lips together, taking her glasses off. You missed the fact that she’s started wearing them again. Maybe her eye got better or maybe she’s just so used to wearing them. Whatever it is you always forget to ask. 

“How do you feel?” She asks. It’s such a broad question you almost don’t know where to start. You feel guilty and sad that you worried Johnny and Kyle. You’re scared it’s going to happen again or worse you do something to hurt them. 

“I’m worried.” You say. “That it’s going to happen again. I don’t want to hurt Johnny or Kyle.” 

“I know.” She says her tone is low and calm. It’s almost like you can see her trying to project her scent to calm you. If she was here that’s what she would be doing. “It probably will happen again, you can’t control your subconscious unfortunately. Even by talking with me it will take time before you start to heal. Then things will be easier to control.” 

You nod like you understand what she’s saying. “Do you think things will change when the professor is dead?” You ask. 

“I think when he’s dead you will finally be able to breathe. He’ll be gone and you can focus on yourself and your pack. Even now while he’s still alive he has no control over you. You’re safe, safer than you will ever be.” She moves closer to the camera leaning forward lacing her hands together. 

“You have people around you who love you, who will go to the ends of the Earth for you-me included. You have a strong pack to support and protect you. Hale abused you, he hurt you so much.” She stops lowering her head and letting out a sigh. 

“I remember when he would make you wear the dresses. They all belonged to his wife.” She says. The admission makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck. You feel sick, why is she telling you this now? 

“He never loved you, he loved his wife and his daughter. He loved to abuse you, he wanted to break you down to be this version of an omega he wanted. Someone submissive, vulnerable and weak.” Piper smiles looking back up at the camera. 

“You are so much more than what he wanted you to be. You’re worth so much more. I know it’s hard, I know you’re missing your alphas and the thought of Hale being out there is not helping.” You nod, feeling tears escape down your face. You don’t know why you’re upset, you don’t feel upset. You feel a warmth bloom inside you at her words. 

“You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. You survived, and now you have people who love you to take care of you. You’re never going to be alone again, you’re never going to see Hale again. And so help me God he’ll never be able to hurt you again.” She smiles and you smile back nodding and wiping the tears off your face. 

“I wish I could hug you.” You say sniffling. She smiles leaning back slightly. 

“Me too.” She smiles. You nod and look up at the closed door Kyle went through. You don’t know if they listen to your conversations with Piper they would be able to hear them with the enhanced hearing. 

“Kyle.” You call, he opens the door in an instant. You smile at him, he looks confused coming over to you. 

“Everything okay?” He asks sitting down next to you. You nod and throw your arms around him burying your face into his neck. 

“I love you Kyle.” You say, he squeezes you tight, running his hand up your back.

“I love you too.” He replies. You can smell his scent filling the room, it’s calming and comforting. You let him hold you, letting yourself relax against him. “You’re okay, love. We’ll always be here for you. Forever.” You close your eyes squeezing the last of the tears out when you hear Johnny come into the room. 

You break from the hug looking at the laptop. Piper is gone, you see she sent a message but you don’t get time to read it before Johnny puts the laptop lid down. He steps around the coffee table sitting down on it infront of you. 

He reaches over cupping your face with one of his hands and brushing the last few tears away. You smile at him and you feel Kyle’s arms come around you. 

“We’re always going to be here. Through thick and thin, no matter what we’ll never leave your side.” Johnny says. You feel like you’re going to cry again, but not because you’re sad, you can’t stop smiling at him and he leans in to kiss you. Kyle's hand runs up your back and his fingers land on his mark. 

It’s like there's electricity running through your body as you sink into Johnny’s kiss, his warm tongue drags over yours. You sigh, letting him hold your face as Kyle presses a kiss into your neck. When he breaks from the kiss he doesn’t drop his hands. His eyes and lips twinkle in the light. 

He has blue eyes like John but they’re lighter, beautiful and almost translucent. 

“I love you.” You say. He quickly kisses you again. 

“I know, I love you too.”

…

You decide not to call John. You just want to spend the rest of the day with Johnny and Kyle. They never leave your side. You lay in their arms on the sofa watching whatever is on the telly until the sun starts to set. That's when Johnny leaves to call someone for a lift to the pub. 

You would have been okay just staying in but at the mention of the pub food your stomach starts rumbling. Besides you like the pub, it’s nice and you would like to get out of the house. You go change with Kyle, it’s been nice seeing them dressed in something other than military gear, or green shirts and camo pants. 

Johnny comes into the room pushing his phone back in his pocket and reaching over his head to pull his top off.  

“What you got in here?” Johnny asks fishing into Kyle's bag. 

“Stop nicking my shit. I swear I leave every deployment with half my bag in yours.” Kyle says, pulling him out the way. You smile sitting down on the bed to braid your hair. 

“Besides this is your place, don’t you have wardrobes of clothes here.” Kyle asks, shrugging a jacket on. 

“I think my old prom suit is in here somewhere.” He says going over to the massive dresser in the room. 

“Now that would be something. Who did you go with?” Kyle asks. 

“This girl called Susan, she had a crush on me.” He says, you turn looking at you and wiking while he buttons his shirt up. “What about you Gaz?” 

“Chantelle.” He says. 

“What’s a prom?” You ask for tying the bottom of your braid off. 

“It’s like a big party you have at the end of secondary school.” Kyle explains. You sigh, another thing you never got to experience, his hand comes to pick up your braid running his hand down it and stopping on your cheek. 

You smile up at him, then you hear a car horn blair. It makes you jump and you turn to look over at Johnny looking out the window waving. 

“That's Archie.” Johnny says, you stand up picking up your jacket and accepting Kyle's hand before you both follow Johnny out the house. You recognise the man, he’s the owner of the pub. He greeted you last time you were there. His beard is busher now, he smiles as he hugs Johnny and he reintroduces you all. 

“Where are the others?” He asks, shaking Kyles hand. 

“Somewhere nice I hope. Got called out to a job.” Johnny explains. Archie smiles and turns to open the driver's side door. You get in the back with Kyle shuffling up to the middle seat to sit next to him. Johnny gets in the front with Archie reaching over to fiddle with the radio.  

“Christ.” Kyle whispers as the sound of bagpipes starts to fill the car as Archie starts to drive. 

“What about you, lass? You army too?” Archie asks you after a few minutes of driving. You don’t know what to say instead looking over at Kyle with your mouth hanging open. 

“Aye, she’s the most important part of our team. Can’t tell you what she does though, otherwise I'd have to kill ya.” Johnny says, that throws Archie into a laughing fit as he pats the sterling wheel. 

“You SAS lot and your secrets. Did I ever tell you ‘bout me dad’s tour-” 

“Back in 44’. Yeah.” Johnny says finishing his sentence for him. 

“Lied about his age, he was only 17. Mind you back then the country were beggin’ for soldiers, next thing he knows he’s being shipped off to Normandy. D-Day!” He explains excitedly. 

“Got shot in the arse didn’t he?” Johnny asks. 

“Aye, shrapnel mind you, but he survived, fought on the front lines, married a Scottish army nurse and the rest is history.” He turns and smiles at you.

“What about you? Family in the army?” You’re surprised he’s still talking to you. You shake your head. 

“Yeah, well I tried but busted me knee up in a rugby match. Army wouldn’t accept me so I opened a pub instead.” He says. 

“And we’re so glad you did.” Johnny says, slapping him on the shoulder. 

“Aye, well someones gotta keep your bellies warm.” He says laughing again. You smile looking over at Kyle who reaches out for your hand, you take it and squeeze it leaning against him. The rest of the drive you don’t pay attention to Archie and Johnny’s conversation. They laugh every now and then, their accents are so thick sometimes you can’t understand them. 

When you make it to the pub he parks the car in a spot around the back. Kyle’s arm is around your waist pulling you closer to him as you walk around to the main entrance. The place looks and smells like you remember, the warm glow spills out into the streets and you can already hear the music playing. 

There are a few people standing around with drinks in their hands and cigarettes between their fingers, talking and laughing. The whole place feels warm and inviting. You just wish Simon and John were here too. Johnny catches up with you as you walk through the door, he greets the bartender and you and Kyle go find a table. 

You end up in the same one as last time, the booth nestled into the back corner of the pub. You shuffle in between Kyle and Johnny as the bartender comes over with menus. 

“What do you fancy tonight then?” Johnny asks the table as the menus are passed around. You look through the options, there’s so much stuff, some of it you don’t even know what it is. 

“What's haggis?” You ask reading the last thing on the menu. 

“Food of the Gods, love.” Johnny says nudging you. Kyle scoffs. 

“It’s not good. Maybe fish and chips.” Kyle says pointing at the menu. You smile at him and nod as drinks are brought to the table. 

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” You smile. Kyle smiles too, putting his menu down and pulling the drink towards him. 

“Cheers.” He says you nod picking up yours and you clink the glass together. 

“Do you do that everytime?” You ask after taking a sip. 

“No, usually just the first time. Or when you feel like it.” He says shuffling closer to you and resting his free hand on your thigh. A second later Johnny slides in next to you throwing his arm over your shoulder and reaching over to run his hand up the back of Kyle's neck. 

This corner of the pub is cosy the lighting is just low enough to give you some privacy but not enough that you can't see anything. You can smell the food from the kitchen and the old musty smell of the building that must be at least 100 years old with its high ceilings and stained glass windows. 

“It’s a shame John and Simon aren't here.” You say reaching out for your drink. 

“Yeah, but we’ll come back. When they’re back from America, they’ll need a proper home cooked meal after all the MRE’s they’ll be surviving on.” Johnny says and he and Kyle laugh. 

“What’s that? MRE?” 

“It’s like food in a bag, you add water and it heats up.” Kyle says. 

“They’re usually pretty shite.” Johnny adds, you scowl that doesn’t sound nice. You watch the bartender pulling more drinks, smiling and talking to the people coming in. He seems friendly, so does Archie, everyone you’ve met since you’ve been here has been nice. You take another sip of your drink relaxing back into the booth between them 

You try not to focus on the fact Simon and John aren’t here and focus on what you do have. You look up at Kyle and he smiles at you, you smile back looking at Johnny’s hand resting on the base of his skull. 

“Oo, love. You should try a shot.” Johnny suddenly says excitedly. He’s already shuffling his way out the booth as you frown at him.

“Johnny.” Kyle says, there’s an edge to his voice, almost like a warning. 

“Just one Gaz, c’mon.” Johnny’s smiling with his hands pressed together. “I’ll let you pick the alcohol.” 

Kyle sighs. “Fine, no tequila.” He says, you turn to look at him still frowning. 

“What’s a shot?” 

“It’s a small drink of alcohol. But it’s a lot stronger than just beer.” he says. You’re still a little confused until you see Johnny coming back with 3 tiny glasses in his hand. He puts one down in front of you and Kyle before scooting back in the booth. 

“Vodka.” He says picking his up, it’s just a clear liquid. It makes your stomach turn for a second, it reminds you of the clear liquid Dr. Miller made you drink. The one that made you pass out. 

“You don’t have to do it.” Kyle says, picking his up. You push the thought of Dr. Miller away, he’s dead now and Johnny and Kyle would never do anything to hurt you. You reach over picking yours up. 

“Slainte!” Johnny calls before downing his shot, Kyle sighs, taking his and you follow them. The moment it hits your tongue you regret it. It tastes horrible, it feels like its burning your mouth and throat. You cough putting the glass down on the table. Kyle pushes your beer towards you.

“Drink that, it’ll help.” He says also reaching over for his. You nod drinking down big gulps of beer to get the horrible taste out your mouth. 

“People do that for fun?” You ask, your face still scrunched together. Johnny pats your back.

“That’ll put hairs on your chest.” He seems fine compared to you and Kyle. 

“People do that to get drunk.” Kyle says. Sipping on his beer, you feel your body warm up, your head swims a little. You take another sip, it feels like you can still taste it. A few minutes later the food comes out. You and Kyle got the same but Johnny got the haggis. You can’t make out what it’s supposed to be, it almost looks like it’s in a bag but when he cuts into it it looks like cooked mincemeat. 

“Wanna try?” Johnny asks. You nod and he scoops up a little, putting it on your plate. You pick it up, they’re both watching you as you eat it. It’s weird you don’t even know how to place it. It’s not horrible but it definitely doesn’t taste like minced beef. 

“It’s okay.” You say shrugging. “I think I prefer the fish though.” 

“It’ll grow on you.” Johnny says nudging you. You smile and continue to eat your fish. When your glasses are all emptied the bartender comes over to replace them. You like the beer here better than the stuff Johnny has in the fridge. It’s always ice cold and tates more light and refreshing. 

When the plates are cleared Johnny gushes about how great the food is. You and Kyle agree as Archie comes over and offers Johnny a cigarette. 

“Cheers, mate.” He says accepting it. Archie puts one between his lips before offering the packet to you and Kyle, you both refuse. 

“So how long you back for this time?” Archie asks. 

“Couple of weeks, we’ll see.” Johnny says, shuffling out the booth and shrugging his coat on. He puts the cigarette in his mouth and pats Archie on the back. 

“Back in a bit.” He says to you, winking before leaving out of your view. You turn and look up at Kyle who smiles. You like this place, the atmosphere is lovely, the food and drink is good. You actually feel like you belong here, like people don’t look at you like something they’re trying to figure out. 

“I like it here.” You say picking up your beer and taking a big swig. You like the way the alcohol makes you feel, dulling your senses and clearing your mind.

“Yeah. I like it here too.” Kyle says rubbing your arm.

“What would you do if you weren't in the military?” You ask. 

“I’m not sure.” He replies. “I’m good with computers, maybe I would end up doing computer science or something with communication. I’d probably have a 9-5 in London, working every other weekend. Climb the corporate ladder, maybe become a CTO or a CIO. Marry a pretty girl, have plenty of kids.” he reaches for his beer taking a long sip. 

“I’d want to make sure my family is taken care of. That's my main goal with this job, knowing my mum and my aunts never have to struggle. And I get to make the world just a little bit safer for them.” He says, you can hear the sadness in his voice. You sit up so you can look at him. 

“You said you had a big family. Do you miss them?” 

“I do, it gets easier. They knew the sacrifices I would have to make. I think as long as they know I'm safe. They’re not worried.” He smiles. You smile back, reaching out for his free hand and lacing your fingers with his. 

“Do you think…maybe one day I could meet them?” You feel silly asking the question now, you can feel heat rushing to your cheeks. He chuckles and brings his hand up pulling your chin to look at him. 

“Yeah, one day when this is all over.” He smiles and leans in to kiss you. You melt into it, letting your hands run up his top as you both sink deeper into the corner of the booth. You can taste the alcohol on his tongue as his hands grip your waist pulling you against him. 

“Easy you two.” You hear Johnny’s voice breaking from the kiss and looking at him with more small glasses in his hands. 

“You said only one.” Kyle reminds him. 

“Chill, this one's on the house. Archie said he’s ready to take us home whenever. No rush though.” He says as he puts the glasses down on the table. You smile at him and he leans over to press a kiss on your lips. He pushes the shot over to you and you pick it up. 

The second shot goes down easier and makes your head spin even more, you still have to chase it with beer and you finish off your glass. Kyle takes the empties and goes up to the bar. You feel happy though and move to lay up against Johnny. 

“What would you do if you weren't in the army?” You ask Johnny. “Kyle’s going to become a CEO or something.” 

“CEO?” Johnny chuckles. 

“I said CTO but yeah, I'll be on the corporate grind.” He says sitting down and taking his shot. Johnny hums wrapping his arm around your chest. 

“Maybe a teacher. Something creative like art, or woodwork.” He says. 

“What about your family?” You ask. Kyle smiles as he scoots closer to you, his hand landing on your thigh. 

“Yeah, spend more time with my sisters and my mum.” He says.

“Do you miss them too?” 

“Yeah, but I knew it was going to be hard. You spend a lot of time away from your family. It makes all the time you do spend with them so special.” he says. You nod, it makes you miss Piper. She’s the closest thing you have to a mother. You think about the conversation with her today. 

You know she will always be there through thick and thin but now you have a pack. You don’t need her as much any more. Well, not until she has a cure, then when there’s no more pack maybe things will change. You let out a sigh sitting up as another drink is brought to the table. Johnny rubs your back and you reach out to take a drink. 

“How do you feel?” Kyle asks, you look over at him and smile. 

“I feel good. Weird, but good.” He smiles, reaching up to stroke your cheek and looking over at Johnny. 

“I’ll take a piss.” Johnny says, shuffling out the booth.

“We’ll go after this drink.” Kyle says.

“We don’t have to.” You say, Kyle smiles, his hand runs down your neck and arm.

“It’s okay, it’s late anyway.” You nod, looking back up at the bar. There seems to be more people inside now, you wonder what time this place closes. Or maybe it never closes, it has that vibe of some place that would just be open forever. You’ve read about taven’s in magical worlds; it reminds you of that. 

When Johnny comes back he can’t keep his hands off you, he’s in a good mood and so is Kyle. He keeps stroking your thigh or your arm as you sip on your beer. When you’re all finished Archie comes over and asks if you’re ready. Johnny nods and scoots out the booth offering you a hand. You reach out to take it, your body feels heavy as you move out the booth. 

When you stand up your legs feel wobbly and you sway against Johnny who wraps his arms around you chuckling. When you leave the warmth of the pub the cold air stings your face, there is no one outside smoking now. Johnny holds you close to him as you stumble down the street. It feels like you’ve just woken up from a long heat. 

You climb into the back of the car with Kyle laying up against him. You hum breathing in his scent and close your eyes. You don’t mean to fall asleep but, the gentle movements of the car and the suddenly relaxing bagpipe music lulls you to sleep in Kyle’s arms.

You wake in the morning feeling sick. Your head is swimming and there’s a pit in your stomach. You groan as you turn in the bed, it’s hot and there’s a thin layer of sweat pooling all over your skin. The only time you’ve ever felt like this is when you had the flu. Or that one time Piper and Hale were testing all those concoctions you had to drink. That was a month or so of hell.

This is different though, your belly feels full and each movement makes it swim. You’re not sure what to do, you turn over in the bed and see a glass of water on the bedside table, Johnny has fallen asleep in the chaise longue, his head tipped back snoring softly. 

When you move to pick up the water Johnny wakes, stretching and turning to look at you. He smiles and gets up, coming over to the bed. 

“Hey, lass. How do you feel?” He asks as he sits down on the bed. You gulp half the glass of water down but it doesn’t seem to help, it just upsets your stomach more. 

“I feel sick.” you say. “And my head hurts.” Johnny chuckles and opens the bedside table drawer, he pulls out a white box of pills. 

“These’ll help. I guess this is your first hangover too?” He smiles, taking something out the box and popping out 2 pills. You reach over to take them but your stomach turns again. You freeze feeling something bubble up your body. 

You’re going to be sick. Johnny sees it on your reaching over and producing a bucket for you to empty your stomach in. Everything stings on the way back up, your body throbs and shakes. When you’re done Johnny hands you back your water and you swill your mouth out spitting in the bucket. 

“How long will this last?” You say. Johnny chuckles, taking the bucket away. 

“Couple of hours. Take the pills and go back to sleep. You’ll feel better later.” He says rubbing your leg before getting up. You do as he says as well as gulping down more water. 

“I’ll clean the bucket and bring it back just in case you need it again.” You nod watching him leave and lay back in the bed. You close your eyes breathing in the cool air flowing into the room. 

…

The next time you wake it’s afternoon. The room is cool, the fire has died down to embers, you feel better and you swing your legs out of bed. You see Simon's top on the floor, the one covered in the scent of alpha. Your top smells of vomit, you pull it off then pull on Simon’s top.  

You head out the room and down the stairs, you go into the living room first and see Kyle laid out on the sofa. He sits up when he sees you muting the TV. 

“Hey, how’re you feeling?” He asks as you make your way over to sit next to him.

“Okay, hungry.” You say, your stomach is definitely empty now. 

“Johnny’s cooking bangers and mash, something nice and filling for us all.” He says. You don’t know what bangers are but you don’t care you’ll eat anything right now. 

“Do you want to talk to John and Simon about the marks?” Kyle asks. 

“Yeah. They should know.” You say. Kyle smiles, kissing you on your forehead before reaching over for the laptop. You’ve watched him set up calls many times now but for some reason this time you’re strangely nervous. What if John and Simon get jealous. They don’t seem like the jealous type but you’re their omega, and from what you know alpha’s are not usually good at sharing. 

When the call connects you see Simon at the laptop this time. He’s not wearing his mask but he still has the black paint around his eyes. It’s better than nothing, at least now you can see him smile. John appears behind him a few seconds later. 

“Hey, how’s things over there?” He asks. 

“Good, we went out to the pub yesterday. I think we drank a little too much.” Kyle says. You nod remembering the horrible way you felt this morning. 

“Thought you were being careful.” Simon says, sighing. 

“Yeah well I left Johnny with the card. Won’t happen again.” Kyle says, John is smiling but he crosses his arms and nods. Kyle looks at you, he wants you to talk. You nod, you shouldn’t be so nervous. 

You reach down, gripping the hem of Simon’s top and pulling it off over your head. “In my last heat, Johnny and Kyle claimed me.” You say angling your shoulder closer to the laptop so they can see. You see John frowning and bending down to look closer. 

“That’s Johnny’s.” You say sitting back up. Kyle reaches over picking up the laptop so he can move it behind you to show his mark. Your hand reaches over so you can feel Kyle’s mark. It makes something warm bloom inside you. You’ve been marked by all of them. 

“That’s Kyle’s.” You say as Kyle leans over to put the laptop down. You wait for them to talk, reaching down to pick up your top. 

“Ky-” Johnny stops in his tracks a smile creeps onto his face as he looks at you topless. “Video sex?” He winks at you with a spoon in his mouth. Kyle rolls his eyes.

“Keep it in your pants Johnny.” Simon calls tutting. You blush reaching over to pull the shirt back on. 

“Shame, Si usually sends me something to keep me busy. He’s being a right tease.” Johnny calls back, winking again before heading back into the kitchen. You smile looking back down at the laptop to see Simon’s cheeks flushed pink. 

“What did Piper say about the marks?” John asks. 

“She said it’s because we’re part of a pack. It’s not a problem is it?” You ask suddenly worried you’ve done something wrong. 

“Of course not. I think it’s good, we’re all a pack right?” You nod. “It feels complete now.” 

“It feels whole.” Simon smiles. You nod, it does, in a strange way it feels whole. You bring your hand up to feel their marks again. It just makes you miss John and Simon though, you sigh and Kyles pulls you closer to him, kissing the top of your head. 

“You look like you could use a rest.” Simon says. 

“I’ve been asleep most of the day.” You say, even though you yawn as you say it. Kyle chuckles. 

“She was hungover.”

“It was horrible.” you say. John chuckles, patting Simon on the shoulder before walking away. 

“Get a good night's sleep, we’ll talk tomorrow.” Simon says. You nod smiling as the call ends, you turn to look up at Kyle. He smiles and you reach up to kiss him. 

“Let’s go help Johnny before he burns the place down.” Kyle says smiling.  

Johnny wakes first. He knows this house like the back of his hand. He knows what noises are just the wood settling and which noises are not. He looks over you at Kyle, your back is pressed against him. You’re fast asleep, your breathing steady and slow. 

He slowly reaches over pushing Kyle’s shoulder. He doesn’t wake, just mumbles reaching around your waist to pull you closer to him. Johnny tuts and slowly gets out the bed listening carefully for more noises around the house. 

The heightened hearing that comes with this formula has definitely been a Godsend. He reaches under the bottom of the bed and pulls out a pistol and a mag. He loads the weapon, this time making noise and watching to see if you move. You don’t, the double dose of sleeping pills should keep you asleep until this is over.

Johnny goes over to Kyle and shakes him awake. Kyle mumbles, turning and opening his eyes. As soon as he sees the weapon in Johnny's hand he’s wide awake. 

“At least 2 downstairs.” Johnny says, Kyle looks over at you, Johnny offers him the pistol and he takes it slipping out the bed. Johnny moves over to pick up another weapon from another spot as well as some more mags. He passes some to Kyle as he moves over to the door, he presses down on the handle slowly opening it a crack. 

He flares his nostrils, his ears prick up. His head snaps to look at Kyle when the scent of beta hits his nose. 

“Shit.” Kyle whispers as loud as he dare. Johnny looks over his shoulder at you in the bed, you haven’t moved but they need to leave and close the door so the new scent won’t wake you. They both move out, closing and locking the door, Johnny stashes the key in his pocket before clicking safely off his gun. 

Kyle moves to the top of the stairs keeping to the shadows looking down and craning his head. They both wait in silence, there’s the sound of a door closing. From what Johnny can hear it’s the kitchen door that leads into the hall. They’re right below them. 

They could let them come up the stairs, ambush them. It’s risky though, Johnny’s sure he can only smell 2 people but there could be more. They will be geared too, he knows Kyle hears the click of a weapon. They keep low, only moving when they need to, Johnny steps over to Kyle who puts his hand up to stop him. 

Johnny nods, taking a step back. He’s surprisingly calm, considering there are 2 intruders in his house. He thinks about the locations of stashed weapons, they’re not obvious but he really doesn’t need them arming themselves more than they already have. 

Another click of a weapon pulls his attention to the stairs. Kyle cranes his neck again, Johnny can see the glint in his eyes as he follows the intruder's footsteps. He looks back over at Johnny holding up 2 fingers then pointing to the living room. Johnny hears the door open and nods. 

This is the best time to get them, they can sneak up behind them, maybe they’ll loop round into the kitchen, then they can take them out on the tiles instead of the wood floors. Easier cleanup. 

Johnny moves to go down the steps first, he knows which ones creek. Kyle pats him on the back to let him know he’s following. The house is dark, they could have night vision, but if they’re betas they won’t need it. Johnny can see just as well as if he was using NOD’s. They also have the advantage too, they know this house. 

The living room door is still cracked open, he hears a whisper before they start moving again. They are heading towards the kitchen. Johnny pushes the door open slowly peeking in, they’re by the book case, he sees them for a second before they vanish completely around the corner. He walks in with Kyle following close behind him, they both stop at the corner of the room, Johnny looks back at Kyle. 

It’s like he can tell Kyle is thinking the same thing as him, when they get into the kitchen they should grab them, there's more room, they’ll take one each. Kyle and Johnny move up to the door and watch them as they walk around the dining room table. Johnny moves first, striding up to the closer man and grabbing him from behind, pressing his hand over his mouth and his pistol into his back. 

Kyle grabs the other in a similar manner, they both drop their weapons and Kyle fires first. Johnny follows after, quick and precise shots through the head. They both let the bodies fall to the ground. Kyle flicks the light on as Johnny picks up one of the man’s rifles. 

“Fucking shadows.” Kyle says pulling the patch off the guy he took out.

“Beta’s too. They were sent from America.” Johnny says kicking his guy over onto his back. 

“Shit. We need to move.” Kyle says. Johnny nods going over to the backdoor. 

“Disabled the alarm system. Remotely I bet, or tapped into the wires outside.” He opens the back door taking a deep breath in. “I don’t smell anyone else.” 

“I’ll call the cavalry. You take the omega.” Johnny says reaching into his pocket and handing Kyle the key to the master bedroom. Kyle nods, pushing the pistol into his waistband and heading for the stairs.

...

You wake to Kyle squeezing your shoulder. You smile up at him, yawning as you sit up rubbing the sleep out your eyes. You still feel tired, your muscles are heavy, your head is spinning. Then you smell it; beta. It’s not Johnny or Kyle, it's someone new. Goosebumps rise on the back of your neck, you feel panic build inside you. Something’s wrong. 

“We need to leave.” Kyle says as he stands up, you see the pistol sticking out your waistband. You swallow feeling a pit form in your stomach. 

“Where’s Johnny?” You ask, you’re moving automatically as Kyle brings over socks and shoes. 

“He’s downstairs calling John.” Kyle says before turning to zip the bags up. He picks them up, throwing them out the bedroom into the hall. 

“Where are we going?” You ask about picking your jacket up and pulling it on. You’re nervous, your hands shake. They told you it was safe here, that no one would ever find you. Kyle stops what he’s doing when he comes back into the room. You look up at him worried, he softens his expression and comes over to you placing one of his hands on your shoulder. 

“It’s going to be okay.” He says. “We have a plan in case this happened. John will tell us where to go next.” You nod but you can’t hide your nerves, he gives you a quick kiss before picking your bag up and throwing it out the room. You follow him into the hall, not quite sure what to do.

Then you can smell it, death thick in the air. You’ve smelled the scent of dead beta many times and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it. You reach out for Kyle gripping his arm, he stops what he’s doing and turns to you. 

“How about you go pack up your nest. I’ll come and get you when I’ve got this sorted.” He says you nod and blink away the tears before heading down the stairs. You can smell the unfamiliar beta scent all through the house, it’s almost like you can see where they stepped. It makes you feel uncomfortable, they were in your space, your pack's safe haven. 

You make it to your nest picking up the trinkets, all the pieces you have from everyone. They’re the only things you want, you know you’ll come back here, you’ll see this nest again. You look over into the kitchen through the dining room. You can still hear Johnny talking on the phone, just quiet enough you can’t make out what he’s saying. 

You can smell him though, he smells confident and angry. He sounds angry too, someone did just break into his house. A beta, which means the professor has found you. You try not to think about it too much, your hands are still shaking but you grip the tokens tight to your chest letting them ground you as you get up and head towards the kitchen.

You make it through the dining room before you see the bodies. It makes you gasp, they’ve been wrapped in some kind of tarp but you can see the blood marks on the floor, you can smell it in the air, it makes you feel sick. 

“Shite.” You hear Johnny say looking up at him. He looks worried, the phone still pressed to his ear. “C’mon love, you don’t need to see that.” 

“What happened?” You ask, his hands grip your shoulders pulling you through the kitchen and out into the hall where Kyle is stacking the bags up.

“They broke in.” He says.

“So you killed them?” You ask. 

“They work for Graves.” Kyle says.

“Which means they work for Hale.” Johnny says. You turn to look at him, you need to keep it together, you don’t want to cry anymore. You don’t want to make them worried. 

“Here.” Johnny says holding the phone out for you. You nod, taking it. 

“Hello.” You say. 

“Hey, love.” It’s John’s voice, your lip quivers, you feel the tears come and you can’t stop them. 

“It’s going to be okay. John and Kyle, they're going to take you somewhere safe.” He says. You don’t know what to say, they thought it was safe here and people broke in. People who want to take you back to the professor, or kill you. 

“Where?” You manage to say with a sniffle. 

“America, you’re coming here.” He says. It makes you smile, it feels like a relief, you’re going to see your alphas again. “You’re coming here, and we’re going to protect you, as a pack.” 

“I love you.” You say swallowing the sob. 

“I love you too. Listen to Kyle and John, they know what to do, you’ll be here before you know it.” John says. You nod and hand the phone back to Johnny who takes it and turns back towards the kitchen. You turn and look at Kyle who bends down to zip your bag open. You drop the tokens in the bag and zip it back up. 

When you’re done he comes over and wraps his arms around you. You sigh breathing him in, his scent is familiar, nothing like the strangers who entered the house. He squeezes you tight before letting you go and holding you at arms length. 

“We’ve got this okay?” He says, you nod. “It’s going to be alright, and if everything goes according to plan we’ll be with them sooner than you think.” You smile and he drops his hands from your shoulders. You turn to look out the front door, the sun is just starting to pop up over the horizon. You bring your hand up to your chest and feel the necklace under your top. 

At least you’ll get to see John and Simon again, you’ll be back together as a pack. That's the way it should be.

Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui

[slushingkoala]

Escape from reality

Cw: Smut, reader lowk praise kink? angsty beginning if you squint, crappy writing

—————————————

It had been a rough couple of months. You just felt empty.

You tried to distract yourself with long walks, little routines, and forced positivity. Fake it till you make it. But nothing filled the void inside you.

That changed when you met Hamzah. It wasn’t him, exactly, who made you feel better. It was what he could give you.

It was a cold Tuesday night, 9:46 p.m., and you were waiting outside your apartment building. This had become a ritual. Every few weeks, Hamzah would meet you either outside your place or near the restaurant where you worked. You’d sit in his car for an hour, and for a little while, you’d feel something close to happiness. It wasn’t a cure, it was a reset. A pause on the heaviness.

You saw his beat up car approaching and instinctively straightened your t-shirt, wanting to look at least somewhat put together.

He parked in front of you, rolled down the window, and gave a small nod. You got in quickly, greeted by the familiar warmth of his car.

“Hey. I know you said you wanted something stronger, so I, uh, brought some pills,” he said, his voice low. “Be careful with these, though. It’s not like weed where you can just coast for a bit. Don’t take more than one, and make sure someone knows what you’re doing. Just in case.”

He always gave you that kind of warning. He sold drugs for a living, sure, but he wasn’t careless. Especially not with you.

You nodded, barely listening. Your day had been brutal, and even just sitting in his car felt like too much.

“Uhm… yeah. Thanks. How much do I owe you?” you asked, pulling out your purse and rifling through it.

Hamzah raised an eyebrow. He knew you struggled, that had come up more than once in the haze of late night highs. But tonight, something seemed different. Off.

“You good?” he asked, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied your face. “You don’t seem like yourself.”

You met his gaze and felt something crack in your chest. He looked genuinely worried. It made you want to cry. But you didn’t.

He reached out, resting a hand gently on your shoulder. You flinched slightly at the contact, but then leaned into it, craving it. Craving him.

His lips curled into a small, lopsided smile. You found yourself returning it..shy, uncertain.

He began stroking your arm lightly. The touch, though simple, felt grounding. And in that moment, it started to click. Maybe it wasn’t just the drugs that helped. Maybe it was him.

You leaned in closer, unsure where it was going. Your heart thudded. What if he pulled away? What if this ruined things?

Before you could second guess it, he met you halfway. You kissed him.

At first, it was awkward. Neither of you took the lead. Then, slowly, his hand found your cheek and he deepened the kiss. You grabbed his shoulder to pull him closer, and he responded, his tongue brushing against your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth.

His other hand found your waist, then slid up to your back. Without much effort, he pulled you onto his lap. You bumped your head on the roof and both laughed quietly before your mouths found each other again.

You could feel the pressure of his arousal against you. You shifted, grinding slowly, testing the waters. He matched your rhythm, hips moving with a quiet intensity.

A groan escaped him as the movements grew more desperate, the air between you thick with heat and need.

“Fuck—yeah, just like that,” he breathed, louder than you expected. The sound of his voice, so raw, made your thighs clench.

He tugged at your shirt, asking without words. You nodded and broke the kiss just long enough to pull it over your head. He grinned and unclasped your bra with a speed that made you raise an eyebrow.

His eyes widened as he took you in, like he’d uncovered something precious. One hand cupped your breast while his mouth latched onto your nipple, tongue swirling. You gasped at the sensation, hands moving to unfasten his jeans.

He lifted his hips, pushing his pants and boxers down. His cock sprang free, thick and pulsing. Your breath caught at the sight, and you quickly removed your own pants and underwear.

You glanced at the back seat. “Could we…?”

He nodded, and you slipped off his lap and crawled into the back. He followed clumsily, a quiet eagerness in every movement.

He lay down, and you straddled him, inhaling sharply before sinking onto his cock. The stretch made your breath hitch, and you both moaned as you took him in, inch by inch.

You paused to adjust, your hands resting on his chest. Then you started to move. Slow, steady. He gripped your hips to guide you, helping you rise and fall on him.

“Fuck, feels so good. You’re doing so good for me, baby. Come on,” he moaned, his voice cracking.

You couldn’t even speak. You just nodded and moved faster, letting him take over when your thighs started to tremble. He lifted you effortlessly, hips thrusting upward to meet you halfway.

He hit a spot that made you cry out. “Oh fuck, right there, Hamzah. Keep doing that.”

He nodded, sweat beading at his temple as he kept going.

“I’m close, I’m close, Hamzah—”

“I know, baby. Let it all out for me. You can do it.”

His voice was low, steady, and that praise combined with the rhythm of his hips sent you over the edge. Your back arched, your body pulsing with waves of pleasure. You kept saying his name like a prayer, gasping through the aftershocks.

He held you through it, then gently lifted you off and sat you back on his lap. A few seconds later, he finished, panting as he spilled just below your chest.

You sat there together, catching your breath. The windows fogged. The air thick with sweat, silence, and something you didn’t quite have a name for.

Then he spoke.

“You don’t owe me anything. Ever again.”

—————————————

Hi guys i keep getting so unmotivated for writing, this was in my notes for ages and i finally finished it today 😇 also slushynoobz hit 1 million so happy for them!

[i-like-forcefem]

I've been taking those pills you gave me. I do feel better, but now my chest is really sore and kinda puffy. What should I do?

That means your nipples need more attention love! Just play with them a little bit every day until the feeling gets away, if you don’t give them enough attention your chest will grow out so please don’t forget!!!

[mars-ipan]

i do love my family very dearly but the internalized ableism the men in here struggle with is. so much

[orbitganymede]

baby daddy simon who dated you for a year before you got pregnant, you’d gone through most of the pregnancy alone, him being deployed 3 weeks after you found out and gone until the very last month of it. the both of you had tried at keeping the relationship together, but the distance and loneliness got to you, you’d been fine when it was just you but now with baby, you can’t let the father go in and out of their life. he wasn’t very happy with the decision to end your relationship, in his mind you were together forever now, tied together by this beautiful thing you two created, he didn’t even want children before you told him you were expecting but his whole world view changed when he realized that he not only had you to protect but a baby as well.

but you’d moved out against his wishes, finding a small flat you like and making it home for you and baby. he would come over sometimes, when he could, and spend some time with baby but honestly he felt more like some glorified uncle, would be convinced he was nothing to this child until he saw those brown eyes staring back at him, the ones that are so completely his, and he comes to the conclusion that this isn’t gonna work.

he starts small, coming over once a week instead of every other weekend, takes the two of you out for dinner instead of letting you cook or ordering in. stays late enough that you offer him the spare bed in the guest room, even with the distance you’ve put between yourselves, you can’t help but care for him, knowing nobody else will.

then he puts more pressure on you, making sure you see just how valuable he is, taking night shift feedings and waking up early with baby when they’re fussy. he offers to take baby for the night so you can go out with your friends, do things you haven’t been able to since baby’s arrival, even pays for a spa day for you to really relax. he stocks your fridge, full of the snacks you love and a bottle of wine for the hard nights. he buys and sets up new decor in the house, finally gets you the pretty white vanity and a new washing machine that doesn’t squeak. he really just does what he considers ‘husband duties’, things that he should have been doing this whole time.

and when you don’t budge on the separation, he goes nuclear, “no, love, i haven’t seen your birth control pills”, “look how cute this baby is, remember when ours was that small, sweetheart”, “you’re so stressed darling, let me help you” which basically means you end up getting rawdogged within an inch of your life, condom long forgotten, one of simons hands held over your mouth to muffle the sounds you’re making. he just hopes he’d tracked your cycle right, that you’re actually ovulating, because you can’t possible refuse his ring after having two of his babies right? you wouldn’t do that to him, would you pet?

[isasweetie]

in which you’re forced into having a talk with your ex-boyfriend, rafe cameron, on the boat ride to morocco.

being a pogue and rafe cameron’s ex was not easy. although you dated shortly before he killed peterkin, and you were sure he barely even remembered your favourite colour, seeing him blatanly disrespect you and his friends, and go down a path you tried so hard to prevent him from, was hard to watch. but now he’s picked himself up since ward died. you thought you had another chance to at least be on good terms. sending flowers and a card to tanneyhill when ward died, smiling at him when you’d see him around. it didn’t work, he still hated you and your friends.

fortunately, he redeemed himself ever so slightly by volunteering to take the pogues to morocco. rafe had to find chandler groff, you guys wanted the blue crown. it was perfect.

until jj punched him, that is. he knocked him out cold. with a scolding “jj!” coming from majority of the pogues, including you, jj carries him down into the downstairs washroom and ties his wrists to a pole. they don’t trust him, which is fair. you don’t either — you shouldn’t, anyway.

rafe was down there quietly for a mere half hour until he woke up with a groan from his head hitting the ground earlier, followed up with yelling once he realizes he was stuck down there.

all touching your noses and saying ‘not it’ the minute pope suggests someone going down there to check on him, you’re the unlucky one who said it last. shutting up your protests, john b gently coaxes you downstairs, saying things like, “you used to mack on him”, “this is good, you know him”, “he won’t hurt you,” john b leaves you downstairs once you make it to the door of the bathroom. knocking gently, you timidly ask, “can i come in?”

there’s no answer. you can picture him. wrists tied, brows furrowed, eyes closed tightly as his head leans against the wall and towards the ceiling. his gorgeous stressed face. you slowly open the door, peeking your head in. “hi,” you say gently, timid around the scary and aggressive man you have the curse of calling your ex.

“…hey,” rafe says, voice rough as he shuts his eyes tight.

unsure what to say, you awkwardly stand there and stare down at him. “um, i brought asprin,”

“right, right, like i can fuckin’ swallow it. what, you gonna throw it in my mouth like a.. seal or something?” sassy, his upper lip lifts a bit as he thinks about it and isn’t very fond of the idea.

a second of silence as you figure out what to say. “…um, ill just set it down here,” you say, putting the container down beside him. “sorry about your head.”

“yeah, uh, your little boyfriend can’t control his fists, huh?”

“…not my boyfriend,” you correct softly, though you’re not sure why you feel the need to tell him that. “but no one really.. trusts you, rafe, so you kind of brought this on yourself—“

he quickly interrupts you. “bullshit. you know why that’s bullshit? because i was helping. who got you this boat, huh? me. i did. rafe. i’m the reason that you guys aren’t swimming, or some shit, to north africa. i’m being helpful and understanding, and this is what i get. you think that’s fair?” when you’re stood there in silence at his sudden raised voice, he repeats, “you think that’s fucking fair, y/n!?” he kicks a can in anger.

it’s like you’re his girlfriend again as you sit down next to him instantly instead of running. you get deja vu to the time three years ago when he was high on coke and got kicked out of the house. everyone ignored him except for you. “..um, okay, i’m gonna give you some asprin,” you say softly. “help your head. open,” you tell him, grabbing a pill as he gives you a look but opens his mouth. you pop it in his mouth and he dry swallows. “there.”

you two share a look. you don’t think it’s a bad look by any means. he looks frustrated still, but there’s an underlying gentleness in his eyes, as if he registers you’re still the same girl you were when you two were together. “…and, um, for the record, i don’t think it’s fair that you’re down here. you helped us, thats.. nice.”

the word ‘us’ when referring to you and the pogues makes him feel weird. “i don’t get why you hang out with them,” he mutters as he looks at the ground. “tried so fucking hard to keep you away from them when we were.. together.”

“i know,” you whisper, your gaze dropping as well, to his tied wrists. you feel awful. “trust me, your warnings still play in my head when i’m with them sometimes,”

“you remind me of sarah.” he says. you’re not sure what that means.

“you hate sarah,”

“nah, nah— i don’t hate her. hate who she’s turned into,” he adjusts himself. “she makes me sad. i’m sad for her, alright? she had so much potential.“ he shrugs. “but there’s no saving her. she’s in too deep,” he looks back up at you again. “i think there’s saving you, though,”

“…this is weird, rafe,”

“how?” he asks.

“because in the years we’ve been broken up, you’ve never talked to me about this. feels like it’s a… trick or something,”

“it’s not a trick,” he assures, voice still rough. “look, i’m out half a mill, i’m tied up in a bathroom, i’m probably gonna.. die or something. i got nothing to lose, may as well tell you my concern,”

“um, i appreciate it,” you say gently, unsure how to respond. “and i’m gonna go back upstairs.”

“hey— no, woah, woah, woah,” he stops you quickly. “stay. okay?”

“i should go up and help with dinner, though—“

“no, stay. i— i want you to stay, okay? i don’t wanna be down here alone, and i want you away from the pogues,”

he doesn’t wanna be alone. you feel bad for him all over again, nodding gently as you sit back down beside him. you always were so good for rafe.

you’re not sure how long you’ll be down here with him. maybe until it’s late at night and he’s asleep. so gently, after about five minutes of silence, to ease some of the tension and pass the time, you murmur a, “truth or dare?”

rafe just smiles.

[abbotjack]

God I hate to be that person but ughhhhhh I love that jack fic where they find out reader is pregnant and I'm CRAVING a second part to that (if you're u to of course). Like, how it'd be during her pregnancy, him being sweet but also worried and protective. Omg I need more soft jack w a baby on the way!!!!!

The Camouflage Onesie

part two of he begins to notice (read this first!)

content warnings: pregnancy, medical references, nausea/morning sickness, sexual content (explicit but consensual), body image changes, hormonal shifts, domestic intimacy, emotional vulnerability, labor and delivery scene, emotionally intense partner support, and high emotional/physical dependency within a marriage. yeah. pregnancy

word count : 5,735

WEEK 5

The test turned positive on a Sunday. By Monday morning, the entire medicine cabinet had been rearranged like it was a trauma cart.

Your moisturizer had been nudged over to make room for prescription-grade prenatals, a bottle of magnesium, a DHA complex, and—of all things—two individually labeled pill sorters with day-of-the-week dividers. One pink. One clear. Yours and Jack's, apparently.

You found him in the kitchen at 6:42 a.m., already in scrubs. He was calmly cutting the crusts off toast while listening to NPR and making a second cup of coffee for himself.

When he turned, he gave you a long once-over—not in a critical way, but diagnostic. Like he was scanning you for vitals only he could see.

“You’re flushed,” he said. “And your pupils are dilated. You feel dizzy yet?”

You furrowed your brow. “No?”

“Good. You’re hydrating better than I thought.”

You blinked. “Jack, I haven’t even said good morning.”

He walked over and handed you a glass of room-temp water. “I’m loving you with medically sourced precision.”

You stared at the glass. “This isn’t cold.”

“Cold water upsets your stomach. Lukewarm helps with early bloat.”

“Jack.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

He tilted his head. “I’ve watched septic patients stabilize faster than accountants facing a positive Clearblue. I know exactly what this is.”

You pressed your hands to your face and groaned. “You’re not going to hover this much every week, are you?”

Jack leaned down, brushing a kiss over your shoulder. “No. Some weeks I’ll hover more.”

“I made your appointment already,” he said, voice casual. “Friday. Dr. Patel. 3:40.”

You blinked. “You didn’t even ask me.”

“She owes me a favor,” Jack said. “Got her niece into ortho during the peak of the shortage last year. Trust me—she’ll take care of you.”

You frowned, stunned. “How did you even pull that off so fast?”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Sweetheart. I’m an ER doctor. I have connections. I can get my wife seen before the week’s out.”

Your eyes welled up suddenly—caught off guard by how steady he was, how sure. You were still half-floating in disbelief. Jack was already ten steps ahead, clearing the path.

WEEK 6

You learned very quickly that pregnancy was a full-time job—and Jack approached it with quiet precision.

The first time you dry-heaved over the kitchen sink, he didn’t rush in with a solution. He didn’t lecture or hover. He just stepped into the room, leaned against the counter, and waited until you looked up.

“Still thinking about that leftover pasta?” he asked softly.

You made a face. “Don’t say the word pasta.”

He crossed the kitchen, wordless, and pulled open a drawer. Out came a wrapped ginger chew. Then he disappeared down the hall.

When he returned, he had your cardigan in one hand and a bottle of lemon water in the other.

You blinked at him. “What are you doing?”

Jack handed you the water first. “You always run cold when you’re nauseous. But I know you’ll refuse a blanket if you’re flushed.”

You stared.

He draped the cardigan over your shoulders.

“You okay?”

You nodded slowly. “I think so.”

“Okay,” he said. “Let me know when you want toast.”

You half-laughed, half-cried, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. “You don’t have to be this gentle every second.”

Jack leaned in. “I’m not being gentle. I’m being exact. There’s a difference.”

Later that night, you sat curled up on the couch, still wrapped in the cardigan, while Jack quietly swapped your usual diffuser oil with something new.

“Peppermint,” he said when you asked. “Helps with queasiness.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And the bin next to the couch?”

“Let’s call it contingency planning.”

You smirked. “You’re really building systems around me, huh?”

Jack looked at you—soft, certain. “No. I’m building them for you.”

He moved across the room and brushed your hair back off your forehead, thumb pausing at your temple like he could smooth out whatever discomfort lingered there.

“You’re not the patient,” he murmured. “You’re the constant. And I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep the ground steady under your feet.”

You didn’t have a clever reply.

You just pulled him onto the couch beside you and tucked yourself into his chest—grateful beyond words that this was who you got to build a life with.

WEEK 9

Jack was folding laundry on the bed when you walked into the room barefoot, carrying a bowl of cereal and wearing his old college sweatshirt.

You caught his glance. “What?”

He shook his head, smiled a little. “Just thinking you wear my clothes better than I ever did.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. He set a towel down. Reached for your bowl as you sat on the edge of the bed.

“I got it,” you said.

“I know,” he murmured, holding it anyway while you shifted the pillow behind your back. Once you were settled, he handed it back.

You took a bite, then glanced at the basket of half-folded laundry.

“You know that’s mostly my stuff, right?”

Jack looked at the pile. “It’s ours. Who else is gonna fold your seven thousand pairs of fuzzy socks?”

You laughed into your spoon.

He leaned against the dresser and just looked at you for a second. Not in a way that made you self-conscious—just soft. Familiar.

“You’re quieter this week,” he said.

You shrugged. “I’m tired.”

He nodded. “Want to go somewhere this weekend? Just us?”

“Like where?”

“Nowhere big. Just—out of the house. We could rent a cabin. Lay around. Sleep until noon. Let you pretend I’m not watching you nap like it’s my full-time job.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You do that now?”

“Not always. Just when you start snoring like a golden retriever pup.”

“Jack.”

He grinned, walked over, and kissed your temple.

“Alright, no trips. But at least let me cook something tonight. Something warm.”

You sighed. “You already do too much.”

He looked at you seriously then, crouched a little so you were eye-level.

“I don’t keep score,” he said. “I’m your husband. You’re growing our kid. If all I have to do is make dinner and fold socks, I’m getting off easy.”

WEEK 14

By week fourteen, the second trimester hit like an exhale.

You weren’t queasy every morning anymore. Your appetite returned. You could brush your teeth without gagging. And Jack, for the first time in weeks, actually relaxed enough to sit through an entire episode of something without checking on you mid-scene.

You were curled on the couch together—your head in his lap—when he slid his hand beneath your shirt and rested it on the soft curve of your stomach.

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re subtle.”

“I’m consistent.”

You snorted. “You’re clingy.”

His thumb brushed just under your ribs. “I’m memorizing.”

You shifted slightly, tucking your feet closer. “You already know everything about me.”

Jack looked down at you, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I know the before. This part? This is new.”

He went quiet, and you could feel the shift in him—something deeper, more reverent than before.

“I’ve seen pregnancy before,” he said. “But I’ve never… watched it happen to someone I come home to.”

You turned your head to look up at him. “You okay?”

Jack nodded slowly. “I just keep thinking… you’re building someone I haven’t met yet. And I already know I’d give my life for them.”

Your throat tightened. You reached for his hand where it rested on your stomach, lacing your fingers through his.

“We’re doing okay, right?”

Jack bent down, kissed your forehead. “You’re doing better than okay.”

You smiled. “We’re a good team.”

“The best,” he said. “Even if you keep stealing all the pillows.”

You laughed. “You sleep like a corpse. You don’t need them.”

He grinned. “You’re getting cocky now that the nausea’s eased.”

“You’ll miss her when she’s gone.”

“No, I’ll just be glad to have you back.”

You rolled your eyes. “You have me.”

Jack kissed you again. Longer this time.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I do.”

WEEK 15

It started with the baby books.

Not the ones you bought. The ones Jack picked up—three of them, stacked neatly on the nightstand one morning after a grocery run you hadn’t joined him on.

You noticed them after your shower. He was still in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher, humming something that definitely wasn’t in tune. But the titles made you pause.

“‘What to Expect for Dads,’” you read aloud, holding the top one up when he walked in. “You going soft on me?”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Hardly. Just figured if you’re doing the building, I can at least read the manual.”

You smirked, flipping through a page. “You’re the manual.”

“I’m the triage guy. I don’t have maternal instincts. I have protocols.”

You leaned back against the headboard. “You’re being humble, but you’re gonna ace this.”

He shrugged, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed. “I just want to know what’s coming. I’ve done newborn shifts. I’ve handed babies to people shaking so hard they could barely hold them. But this? This isn’t a shift. This is us.”

You touched his arm. “You’ve already done more than I can even keep track of.”

Jack looked at you for a long moment. Then placed his hand over yours. “I don’t want to just be useful. I want to be good. For both of you.”

You didn’t know what to say.

So you leaned forward and kissed him—gentle, deep. His hand slid to your stomach as naturally as breathing.

You pulled back just enough to whisper, “You already are.”

That night, when he thought you were asleep, he cracked open the book again.

And stayed up past midnight reading about swaddling, latch cues, and the difference between Braxton Hicks and the real thing.

WEEK 16

Jack stood in the doorway of your office for almost a full minute before saying anything.

You looked up from your laptop, eyebrows raised. “What?”

He didn’t move. Just scanned the room—your desk, the bookshelf, the little armchair in the corner that you never actually used.

Then, finally: “Is our house big enough for this?”

You blinked. “For what?”

He gestured vaguely toward your belly, then the room. “All of it. A baby. Crib. Noise. Diapers. More laundry. Less sleep.”

You smiled gently. “I thought we were turning this room into the nursery.”

“We are,” he said quickly. “I just… I keep running scenarios in my head. And this place felt huge when it was just us.”

You closed your laptop. “Jack.”

He looked at you.

“We’ll figure it out. We already are.”

He crossed the room, leaned against your desk. “I’m not trying to panic.”

“I know.”

“I just keep thinking about how everything’s going to change. I want to make sure we still feel like us once it does.”

You stood and wrapped your arms around his waist, head resting against his chest. “We will. You think too far ahead sometimes.”

“That’s my job,” he murmured.

“And mine is reminding you that it’s okay to not solve everything all at once.”

He kissed the top of your head. “I know. I just want it to be enough.”

WEEK 19

Jack was unusually quiet on the drive to the anatomy scan.

Not anxious. Just focused in a way that told you his brain had been working overtime since the moment he woke up. His hand rested on your thigh at every red light, thumb tracing small circles against the fabric of your leggings.

“You good?” you asked, turning down the radio.

He glanced over, nodded once. “Just running through the checklist in my head.”

You smiled gently. “You’re not at work, babe.”

“I know. But I’ve never seen one of these as a husband.”

You reached over and laced your fingers through his. “You don’t have to be perfect today. You just have to be here.”

He gave you a look. “I am here. That’s the problem. I’m so here I can’t think about anything else.”

The waiting room was dim, quiet, and smelled vaguely like lemon disinfectant. Jack sat beside you, legs spread in his usual posture, one hand on your knee. His thumb tapped once. Then again. Then stopped.

The tech was warm, professional. She dimmed the lights. Asked if you wanted to know the sex. You said yes before Jack could answer.

You held your breath as the screen lit up in shades of blue and gray.

“Everything’s looking healthy,” the tech said. “Strong spine, great heartbeat, long legs.”

Jack tightened his grip on your hand.

“And it looks like you’re having a girl.”

You exhaled all at once. Then laughed. Or maybe cried. It blurred together.

Jack didn’t say anything right away. Just stared at the monitor, jaw tense, eyes glassy.

You turned to look at him. “Jack.”

He blinked. “Yeah.”

“You okay?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I just—” He swallowed. “She’s real.”

The rest of the appointment was a haze—measurements, murmurs of “good growth,” the gentle swipe of gel off your stomach. Jack didn’t let go of your hand the entire time.

That night, you came out of the bathroom in an old t-shirt and found him standing at the dresser, staring down at something small in his hand.

You stepped closer. “What’s that?”

He held it up without looking—one of the newborn onesies you’d bought weeks ago in a moment of cautious optimism. Light yellow. Soft cotton.

“You think she’ll fit in this?” he asked.

You smiled. “They’re tiny, Jack. That’s kind of the whole point.”

He nodded but didn’t move.

You wrapped your arms around him from behind. “You’re allowed to feel everything. It’s a big day.”

He turned, wrapped his arms around you carefully. “I think I was more afraid of not feeling it.”

You pressed your forehead to his. “You’re allowed to be happy.”

“I am,” he said, voice rough. “I just keep thinking about how I’m going to keep her safe. How I’m going to teach her to breathe through chaos. How I’ll probably mess it up a hundred times.”

“You’re not going to mess it up.”

He looked at you. “You really think that?”

“I married you, didn’t I?”

Jack smiled for real then. “You’ve always been the smarter one.”

You rolled your eyes. “But you’re the one who’s going to end up wrapped around her finger.”

He kissed your temple. “That part was inevitable.”

WEEK 25

Jack convinced you to finally start looking at houses.

You’d been reluctant—emotionally attached to the place you’d built your early marriage in, skeptical about change when everything in your life already felt like it was shifting—but Jack had waited. Quietly. Patiently.

And then one morning, while you were brushing your teeth, he leaned in behind you, kissed your shoulder, and said, “You deserve a bigger closet.”

That was how it started.

Now, you were standing in a half-empty living room with sun pouring through tall windows and a sold sign posted out front.

Jack had just gotten off the phone with your realtor. “It’s official,” he said, sliding his phone into his back pocket. “Inspection cleared. We close in three weeks.”

You blinked. “We really bought a house.”

He walked over, wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, rested his chin on your shoulder. “Correction: we bought your dream closet.”

You laughed. “You think you’re funny.”

“I know I am. Also, there’s a window bench in the nursery. You don’t even have to try to make it Pinterest-worthy.”

You leaned into him, eyes scanning the bare walls. “I can already picture her here.”

Jack pressed a kiss to your neck. “I already do. I see her trying to climb that windowsill. Leaving fingerprints on every square inch of the fridge. Falling asleep on the stairs with a book she couldn’t finish.”

Your throat tightened.

You turned in his arms. “You really love it?”

He looked at you seriously. “I love what it gives you. I love that it lets you breathe. And yeah—I love that it’s ours.”

Later that night, back in your current house, you sat on the floor with your laptop open, scrolling through registry links and bookmarking soft pink paint samples. Jack handed you a cup of tea, then lowered himself on the couch beside you with a quiet grunt.

“Is it weird that I already want to be moved?” you asked.

He shook his head. “No. It’s called nesting. I read about it in that chapter you skipped.”

You shot him a look. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m the one folding swaddles while you build spreadsheets. This is our love language.”

You leaned into him, content. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

WEEK 27

You’d been on your feet all day—organizing documents, boxing up odds and ends, making lists of what needed to be moved and what could be donated. Jack told you to slow down three separate times, each time gentler than the last.

But now, at 8:43 p.m., you were barefoot in the kitchen, half bent over a drawer of mismatched utensils, when he walked in, tossed a dish towel on the counter, and said, “Okay. That’s it.”

You looked up. “What?”

Jack didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to. He crossed the room, took the spatula from your hand, and gently nudged you toward a chair. “Sit. Let me take over.”

You blinked at him. “I’m fine.”

“You’re stubborn.”

You folded your arms. “Same thing.”

Jack crouched in front of you, resting his forearms on your knees. “You’ve done enough today. Let me be the husband who makes you sit down and drink something cold while I finish sorting forks from tongs.”

You softened, your fingers drifting to his hair. “I know you’re right. I just feel useless when I’m not doing something.”

“You’re 27 weeks pregnant,” Jack said, voice warm. “You made a person and folded three boxes of bath towels. That’s two more miracles than anyone else managed today.”

You exhaled and leaned back.

Later, when you were curled on the couch with a glass of iced water and your feet propped on a pillow, Jack settled next to you and tugged a blanket over both of you.

“House is gonna feel real soon,” he said.

You nodded. “She’s going to be born there.”

Jack’s arm slid around your shoulders. “We’ll bring her home to that nursery. Hang that weird mobile you picked that I still don’t understand.”

“You said it was ‘avant-garde.’”

“I was being polite.”

You smiled, tired and full. “We’re really doing it, huh?”

“We are.”

You rested your head on his chest. Jack’s hand drifted instinctively to your belly, and stayed there.

“Hey,” you said after a minute. “Thanks for making me sit.”

Jack kissed the top of your head. “Thanks for letting me.”

WEEK 30

You caught him standing in the doorway of the nursery around 9:00 p.m., arms folded, shoulder braced against the frame like he was keeping watch.

The room was nearly done. Diapers in bins. Chair assembled. Books on shelves. But Jack wasn’t looking at any of that. He was staring at the window, like he was imagining the light that would come through it in the early mornings.

You leaned against the opposite side of the doorway, watching him.

“What’s going on in that head?” you asked.

He glanced over at you. “Just thinking.”

“Dangerous.”

Jack cracked half a smile but didn’t move. “I keep picturing her. Not just baby-her. Grown-up her.”

You walked toward him. “What version?”

He tilted his head. “Seventeen. Wants to borrow the car. Has someone texting her who I probably don’t like.”

You laughed. “You’re already dreading a boyfriend?”

“I’m already dreading anyone who gets to be in her world without knowing what it cost us to build it.”

That stopped you.

Jack finally looked at you then—really looked. “She’s not even born yet and I already know I’d lay down in traffic for her. And I know how fast people can break things they don’t understand.”

You rested your hands on his chest. “You’re not going to be scary.”

Jack raised an eyebrow.

“Well. You’ll look scary. Army vet. ER attending. Perpetual scowl. Built like you bench-press refrigerators for fun.”

He snorted. “Thanks.”

“But you’ll love her in a way no one will mistake for anything but devotion.”

Jack leaned down, pressed his forehead to yours.

“I’m not good at soft,” he murmured.

“You’re good at us,” you whispered. “That’s all she’ll need.”

He pulled you into his arms then, one hand resting flat against the curve of your belly. “She’s gonna hate me when I make her come home early.”

“She’s gonna roll her eyes when you insist on meeting everyone she ever texts.”

Jack grinned. “Damn right.”

You laughed into his shirt. “You’re so screwed.”

“I know.”

But he held you a little tighter. Didn’t say anything else. Just stood there in the dim nursery, one arm wrapped around the two of you, as if holding his whole world in place.

WEEK 32

You’d read the pregnancy forums. The blog posts. The articles with vaguely medical sources claiming the third trimester came with a spike in libido. You thought you’d be too sore, too tired. Too preoccupied.

What you hadn’t expected was the absolute onslaught.

It was like your body had one setting: Jack. Crave him. Need him. Get him here, now, fast.

He’d just gotten home from a late shift, dropped his keys in the bowl by the front door, and disappeared into the shower while you laid in bed attempting to not whine out loud. That resolve lasted six minutes.

When he walked into the bedroom, towel low around his hips, water dripping down his chest, you didn’t even mean to say it:

“I’m gonna die.”

Jack froze.

He crossed the room in seconds. “What is it? Where’s the pain?”

You were already on your back, one hand pressed to your belly, the other covering your eyes.

“Not pain,” you groaned. “Just hormones. God, Jack—this is insane.”

He crouched beside you. “You need to describe what’s happening.”

You peeked at him from under your hand. “I need you. I need you.”

Jack stilled. Blinked. Then dropped his forehead to your shoulder with a long exhale.

“Christ. You scared the hell out of me.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, laughing into your wrist. “I just—I’m desperate. I thought it would go away. It’s not going away.”

He lifted his head. Smiled. “Desperate, huh?”

“You’re not helping.”

“I think I am.”

Jack kissed your temple, then your cheek, then hovered over your lips. “You sure you’re good?”

You reached for him. “No. I’m feral.”

He didn’t waste another second.

What followed wasn’t frantic—it was focused. Jack stripped you with efficiency and reverence, lips brushing every newly sensitive part of you. Your belly. Your hips. Your breasts. He murmured to you the whole time—gentle things, grounding things.

“You’re beautiful like this,” he said, kissing the swell of your stomach. “You’ve been patient. Let me take care of you.”

“Please,” you whispered. “I feel insane.”

“I know. I’ve got you.”

He slid inside you slow, controlled, the way he always did when he wanted to make it last. But tonight, there was something more behind it—urgency without rush, intention without pressure.

You clawed at his shoulders, moaning into his neck. “Jack, Jack—”

“Right here.”

“I missed you today.”

“I missed you too. I always do.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, legs tightening around his waist. The angle shifted, and everything inside you splintered.

“Oh—God—don’t stop—”

Jack groaned, teeth catching your jawline. “You feel so good, sweetheart. So damn good.”

He guided you through it, one hand braced behind your head, the other cradling your hip like you’d break without it. When you came, it was with his name on your lips and tears at the corners of your eyes.

He followed seconds later, low and deep and steady, body shaking over yours.

Afterward, he didn’t move. Just curled around you, one arm anchored under your shoulders, the other stroking your belly in long, soothing sweeps.

“Still dying?” he asked eventually.

You huffed a laugh. “Little bit.”

Jack smiled into your shoulder. “Guess I’ll keep checking your vitals.”

He pulled back just enough to kiss your chest, then your stomach, whispering something you couldn’t hear but felt down to your bones.

When you shifted against him, needy again already, he looked up with a low laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Jack,” you breathed, “I’m not done.”

And Jack—predictable, capable, ready-for-anything Jack—just grinned.

“I never am with you.”

The second round was slower. Deeper. You rode his thigh first, panting against his neck, clinging to his shoulders while he whispered filth in your ear—soft, low things no one else would ever hear from him. He touched you like he already knew exactly what you’d need next week, next month, next year.

And when you collapsed against him again, trembling and sore and finally, finally full in every sense of the word—he kissed your forehead and said, “You’re everything.”

“I love you,” you whispered.

Jack tucked your hair behind your ear and kissed your cheek.

“Good,” he murmured. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

WEEK 35

The third trimester had turned your body into a full-time performance art piece. You were a living exhibit on discomfort, hydration, Braxton Hicks, and the high-stakes negotiation of shoe-tying. You’d stopped fighting the afternoon naps, started rotating three stretchy outfits on a loop, and made peace with the fact that gravity was no longer your friend.

Jack had adjusted too.

Without comment, he now drove you to every appointment. Without asking, he refilled your water before bed. Without blinking, he gave up half his side of the bathroom counter for the ever-expanding line of belly oils, cooling balms, and half-used jars of snacks.

But tonight?

Tonight he came home to find you crying at the kitchen table over a broken zipper on the diaper bag.

“Sweetheart.”

You looked up, cheeks blotchy. “It broke. It broke, Jack. And it was the only one I liked.”

“Hey, hey—breathe.”

You sniffled. “It had compartments. It had mesh.”

Jack took the bag gently from your hands, and examined the zipper like it was a patient in trauma.

“Looks jammed,” he said. “Not broken.”

You stared at him. “You don’t know that.”

He looked up. “I do.”

He walked over to the toolbox without fanfare, and returned two minutes later with a small pair of pliers. Thirty seconds after that, the zipper slid closed like nothing had happened.

You burst into tears again.

Jack set the bag down and pulled you into his arms. “Hormones?”

You nodded into his chest. “I love you so much.”

He smiled against your hair. “You want to take a bath?”

You sniffed. “Will you sit on the floor with me?”

“I’ll bring the towel and everything.”

Which is how twenty minutes later you were in the tub, steam curling around the mirror, your swollen belly just breaching the surface, while Jack sat on the floor, reading your baby book aloud like it was scripture.

“She’s the size of a honeydew,” he said, tapping the page. “Still gaining half a pound a week. Lungs developing. Rapid brain growth.”

You hummed. “She’s been moving a lot today.”

He smiled, reached over, and rested a palm over your belly. “She likes the sound of your voice.”

“She likes pizza. She tolerates me.”

Jack leaned over and kissed your temple. “She already loves you.”

You sighed, settling deeper into the water. “She’s going to love you more.”

Jack’s voice went quiet. “That’s not possible.”

You looked over.

He was watching you like he was memorizing the moment. Like he knew it wouldn’t last forever and wanted to hold every second of it.

“She’s got the best of you already,” he murmured.

You shook your head. “You’re the one who’s been steady through everything. She’s gonna know that.”

He kissed your hand. “She’s gonna know we did it together.”

And you believed him.

Even through the tears, the discomfort, the slow shuffle from couch to fridge to bed—you believed him.

WEEK 36

Jack came home with a basket.

Not from the store. Not from a delivery service. From the hospital. Carried under one arm like it was made of glass.

You were on the couch, half-watching a cooking show, half-rubbing the spot where the baby had been kicking for the last ten minutes straight. Jack came in, dropped his keys, and didn’t say anything at first.

He just set the basket on the coffee table and said, “Robby made me promise I wouldn’t forget to give this to you tonight.”

You blinked. “What?”

Jack gestured toward it. “It’s from the ER.”

Inside: a soft blanket. A framed photo of the team crowded around a whiteboard that read “Baby Abbot ETA: T-minus 4 weeks.” A pair of hand-knitted booties labeled “Perlah Originals.” A stack of index cards, each one handwritten—Dana’s in looping cursive, Collins’s in all caps, Princess’s with hearts dotting the i’s. Robby’s simply read: Your kid already has better taste in music than Jack. Congrats.

You turned one of the index cards over, reading Dana’s note about how you were going to be the kind of mom who made her daughter feel safe and loved in the same breath.

“I didn’t know they even noticed me,” you whispered.

Jack rubbed slow circles against your bump. “They notice what matters to me.”

You looked at him.

He shrugged. “You’re my wife. You’re not just around. You’re part of everything.”

The baby kicked again. Hard enough to make you gasp.

Jack smiled, leaned in, and kissed the place she’d just moved. “She agrees.”

WEEK 38

You’d read about nesting, but you thought it would look more like baking muffins at midnight—not following Jack from room to room like his gravitational pull physically outweighed yours.

He didn’t seem to mind. He’d brush his hand down your back every time you passed, help you off the couch like you were recovering from surgery, and kiss your temple every time he walked by.

By Thursday, the baby bag was packed and parked by the front door. You’d zipped it, unzipped it, and re-packed it twice just to check. And when Jack got home that evening, he nodded at it, then set something down beside it with a quiet thunk.

You glanced over. “What’s that?”

“My go-bag,” he said simply.

You raised an eyebrow.

Jack nudged it with the toe of his boot. “Army-issued. Carried this thing through two deployments and six different states. Thought it’d be fitting to bring it into the delivery room.”

You blinked. “You packed already?”

He nodded, unzipped the top, and tilted the bag open for you to see: a clean shirt, a hand towel, a toothbrush, a few protein bars, and a worn, dog-eared paperback you recognized instantly.

“That one?” you said, surprised. “You always said you hated it.”

“I did,” he admitted, zipping the bag shut again. “But it’s your favorite. I read your notes in the margins when I miss you on long shifts.”

You crossed the room and leaned into him. “You’re something else.”

WEEK 40

You woke up at 2:57 a.m. with a tight, rolling wave of pressure low in your spine. It wrapped around your middle like a band and didn’t let go.

Jack was already shifting beside you. Years in the Army meant he didn’t sleep deeply—not when he was home, not when you were pregnant.

“You okay?” he asked, groggy but alert.

You exhaled shakily. “It’s time.”

He sat up immediately. “How far apart?”

“Six minutes.”

“Let’s move.”

By the time you got in the car, the contractions were coming faster—steadier. Jack didn’t speed, but he gripped the steering wheel like the world depended on it.

You were wheeled in through the ER doors—because of course you were going into labor at the hospital where Jack worked. Princess met you at triage with a knowing smile.

“She’s in three,” Princess said. “Perlah’s setting it up now.”

You were halfway into the room when Jack froze.

He turned to Collins at the desk. “Patel?”

“Stuck behind a pileup on 376,” Collins said. “She’s trying to reroute.”

Jack muttered something under his breath and scanned the monitors. “Where’s Robby?”

“Down in trauma. He’s finishing up a round.”

Jack didn’t wait. He left you in Princess’s care and went straight for the trauma bay.

Robby was wiping his hands on a towel when Jack stepped in. Hoodie half-zipped. Scrubs wrinkled. Wide awake.

“She’s in labor?”

“She’s in active labor,” Jack said. “And Patel’s not gonna make it, but—”

“You want me in the room,” Robby finished.

“I need you in the room.”

Robby dropped the towel. “Done.”

When Robby stepped into your room, you exhaled like someone had lifted a weight off your chest.

“Hey, doc,” you muttered through a contraction.

“You’re in good hands,” Robby said, glancing between you and Jack. “You’ve got half the ER out there whispering about it.”

“Tell them if they bring me chocolate, they can stay,” you joked.

Perlah dimmed the lights. Princess wiped sweat from your forehead. Robby took your vitals himself and kept your eyes steady with his.

Hours blurred together. Jack never left your side.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

“You’re doing perfect.”

“She’s almost here.”

Then everything started to move faster. Robby gave a nod to Princess and Perlah.

“One more push,” he said. “You’ve got this.”

Jack leaned close, his forehead against yours. “Come on, sweetheart. Right here. You’ve got her.”

And then—

A cry. Loud. Full. Brand new.

“She’s here,” Robby said quietly.

Jack didn’t move at first. Just watched. His eyes were wet. His hand covered his mouth.

Princess handed her to you, swaddled and squirming. Jack kissed your forehead and brushed a tear off your cheek.

“She’s perfect,” he whispered. “You did it.”

Later, after they’d cleaned up and the room was quiet, you watched Jack walk over to the bassinet. He held up a camouflage onesie.

“Oh my God,” you said. “Seriously?”

He looked over, completely straight-faced. “This is important.”

“You’re impossible.”

He kissed you once, then again. And held her like he’d waited his whole life.

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ snuggles for hire

summary: first years try helping you out with your touch-starved problem type of post: short fics (blurbs?) characters: leona, floyd, jade, vil additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

"Really? That's it?" Ace scoffs.

"So, they haven't been hugged in a while. Okay? Neither has Deuce,"

Deuce glares. It's almost menacing. "That's not true, and you know it! I get lots of hugs every time I visit home!"

"I do, too. But that's just the thing, though, ain't it?" Epel says. "They don't have no home to get hugs from."

The huddle of first years goes quiet. Some days, you become such a part of their world, they forget you're really not from it.

"...Okay, point taken," Ace sighs. "But they have Grim! And he only stinks like, half the time!"

"If memory serves, Grim usually sleeps on the floor..." Epel says. "Poor prefect, all lonely. Now even their sleep is suffering 'cause of it!"

Jack rubs the back of his neck. "It must be tough, not having anything to look forward to,"

Another melancholy silence. Finally, Ace stands, hands on his hips.

"Well, let's do something about it, then. There are tons of boys at this school- one of them should be willing to help,"

It's eight in the morning after another disappointing attempt at rest, and now you can't even sleep in. Damn visitors.

You throw open the front door.

"What? What could you possibly- wh- Leona?"

The housewarden smirks. He looks a little too proud of himself for this early in the morning...

"A little wolfie told me you weren't sleeping well. Lucky for you, that's my specialty. Now, are you gonna let me in, or what?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, letting himself in and making himself comfortable on the couch in the foyer.

He pats the spot next to him.

"Listen..." you say. "I don't know what you heard, but I'm fine."

"Don't be proud. I don't pity you, I just... owe you. Now get your butt over here, yeah?"

Leona isn't so scary when he's asleep. He's more like... the world's largest pillow. Of course, you're at risk of being smothered until you crawl into a better position, but once you're on top, he's surprisingly warm and comfortable.

You can tell you're being watched before you hear anything.

And you think you might just know wh-

"Shrimpyyy!"

For two boys so tall, the tweels are awfully quiet. Especially when it comes to "surprising" you in random places. This time: the hall.

Floyd pulls you into a bone-crushing hug while Jade watches from behind, smiling subtly.

When he finally lets you down, you're dizzy. (Though, at this point, you'll take whatever physical touch you can get).

"Shrimpyyy, why didn't you tell us you were lonely? We had to squeeze it outta Spade," Floyd pouts.

"His face makes fascinating expressions when he's afraid," Jade says, merrily.

Before you can answer, Floyd's already got you under his arm (seriously? Where do they find the strength?) and is heading straight towards the hall of mirrors.

You already know there's no getting out of this one...

Floyd is, unsurprisingly, all over, from leaning his whole body weight against you to lying across your lap, to biting your shoulder (in his sleep...?) Oh, and he drools, too.

Jade sits on your other side, one hand holding yours, the other leafing through an almanac from twenty years ago.

You're almost hesitant to admit just how nice it really is.

"And nothing else has worked?" Vil says, throwing open the door to your bedroom with no regard for a "hello" or, "how are you?"

You blink. "...Hello to you, too. May I ask what you're talking about?"

He storms inside, standing over you with his hands on his hips.

"Just that I overheard Epel Felmier asking my vice housewarden if he would be willing to satisfy your need for physical affection. You've been struggling? With sleep? And you didn't think to come to me, first?"

He almost sounds... offended that you didn't.

"...Well... I wasn't making a big deal about it,"

"So, no teas, no vitamins, no pills- nothing has helped?"

You shake your head. He sighs.

"Perhaps it is purely psychological... very well. Get up. I hope you don't toss and turn much, I'm a light sleeper,"

Vil is completely still when he sleeps. No tossing, no turning, no drooling, no snoring. He also insists on sleeping on his back, you, clinging to his side, and a single arm around you. Just as elegant as when he's awake. He'd be a true sleeping beauty if not for the mumbles of nonsense that come from him every few minutes. You swear you can make out your own name, once or twice or three times...

He is warm nonetheless, and his mumbles and idle stroking of his fingers on your waist is enough to satisfy you for a night of good sleep.

[superhoeva]

awkward!simon/pharmacy au part two | part one

"i never got to thank you for your help."

simon jumps out of his lean against the side of the building, cursing under his breath when the cigarette tucked between his fingers falls dumbly to the ground. gulping, he glances at you before averting his stare to settle somewhere on your cheek.

not your eyes, but close enough.

"s'not a problem," he nods slowly, mind blanking on what else he could say. he catches how you shift, unsure of what to do with the silence he's forced to let linger. biting the inside of his lip, simon clears his throat. "'uh, yeah. glad i could help."

you give him a small, bashful smile in return of his words and the man nearly stops breathing. he feels his face flushing once again, and he's lucky you're nice enough to not say anything about it.

more silence. you and simon squirm when you accidentally make eye contact before quickly looking away to the nearest anything. his stare lands on the bag in your grasp, filled with those damn pills and the few other items he saw you pluck from the shelves when you'd caught his eye at least ten minutes before reluctantly asking him for help.

the nerve's rattling simon soon grate into a prickly annoyance. god, you having to waste your money on something like that for someone that simon's certain is sticking it in someone else is nipping away at his sense. chest puffing as he takes in a sigh, his index finger scratches a random spot as the back of his head as he grumbles.

"wish there was somethin' i could do t' help. gorgeous thing like you shouldn't suffer over some bloke like that..."

gorgeous. did he just say gorgeous? he must've based on the gobsmacked fucking look on your face.

shit. he's fucked–and not just because his insides flutter at how wide your eyes are and how satisfying your lips look when they're parted in surprise.

simon blinks at you, eyes reading of horror and a hint of panic. when you open your mouth to sputter out a reply, the man turns and makes a b-line for the side door of the pharmacy that's a few feet away.

employees only is plastered across it and you need to know the code to press on the keypad to unlock it and get in, so there's no way you can follow after him and his red cheeks. great.

what's not so great is how foolishly simon's fingers mash into the buttons as he attempts to escape. it takes two times of the buzzer letting him know he's wrong before he can finally think slowly enough to remember the correct order of the four numbers.

simon sends you one last breathless glance and already knows that the dumbfounded look still plastered across your face–the look that has all his blood rushing downward–is going to haunt him for the rest of the day. he slips back into the pharmacy's supply room, the door clanging loudly behind him.

the man collapses back-first against the metal with a huff, one of his hands reaching to wipe at his eyes.

nice. you think he's nice?

"fuck," he whispers thickly to himself, glancing down and grunting at just how noticeable his bulge is becoming as his mind floods with the thought of you; your lips. your watery eyes. your sweet words. all of you. squeezing at his cock through his pants, he hisses at the throb it generates.

glancing at a nearby clock, simon's thinks. whether the six minutes he has before john will probably come looking for him are enough or not, simon couldn't care less.

he doesn't even bother unzipping his pants, slinking a hand into his waistband with little shame. his eyes roll at the way his palm slicks right over his head, and simon grinds into the feeling with a pleased huff.

good thing he skipped wearing underwear today. and thank fuck he threw on his darker jeans.

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[science-hoes]

A Ray of Fucking Sunshine

Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x Reader

Warnings: patient violence, needles, injury, HIV mention, Santos

A/N: I literally cannot stop writing about this old man omg. But I love him. And he is a Good Man. Just some good fluff between an attending and his resident.

—

“I need a doctor!” A voice emerged from one of the exam rooms. “Please, I need a doctor!”

You looked up from your computer and over to Dana, who rolled her eyes. “Is it my turn?” You asked with hesitation.

The Pitt had been flooded as usual, and one of the psychiatric admissions was still being boarded in an exam room until a bed was available upstairs. Fred, the middle-aged opioid addict, was currently going through withdrawals, and he made sure everyone on the floor was aware. You felt bad for him because you know addiction is not entirely the fault of a patient, but Fred was verbally abusing every person who walked through the curtain to check on him.

Dana chuckled and walked over to your chair. “You’re up to bat, champ.” She patted you on the shoulder. “Think you’ll need backup? I can go in with you.”

You sighed and rubbed the aching dark circles under your eyes. “Not if he’s restrained. I’ll be fine.” You mumbled, kicking back on the floor so your chair rolled away from the desk.

You swung your stethoscope around your neck and walked through the curtain. There was Fred. He came in with tremors and sweats, but the withdrawal medication seemed to be helping for now. “Hey, Fred. I’m Dr. (L/N). What’s going on?” You asked, taking a seat on the stool next to the bed.

Fred shook his head. “No, I don’t want a fucking nurse. I want my doctor!” He screamed.

You squinted at his loud voice. “Sir, I am a doctor. Now, how can I help you?” You asked again, with the same patience as before.

“Give me my fucking medicine right now, bitch. I’m not playing any games.” He growled.

You moved to the computer to look up his chart. “I think Dr. Langdon already gave you medicine about thirty minutes ago. What symptoms are you having?” You replied calmly, not taking his anger to heart.

“I want my fucking pills.” He hissed, struggling against the fabric restraints tied to the gurney.

You turned to look at him and sighed. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t do that for you.” You turned back to the computer to search for the time on his next medicine. “I know you are feeling really bad right now, but the pills will not help you in the-”

You were cut off by your head being yanked back by your hair with strong force. You let out a startled scream and twisted around to look at Fred. He had gotten out of one of his arm restraints, and before you could cry out for assistance, you felt pressure on your cheek. Naturally, your eyes squinted shut when you saw a hand coming at you, so you didn’t see that he was wielding a scalpel. Before you could open your eyes, a closed fist knocked you to the ground.

“I told you to give me my fucking pills, you cunt.” He snarled and spat on you.

The curtain swung open to reveal Langdon and Robby, who both looked ready to tackle Fred if he was free. You crawled away from the bed and shakily stood up.

“Dana, call for security!” Robby yelled out as he and Langdon grabbed Fred’s free arm and tried to tie it back down to the rails of the bed. The metal clang of the scalpel dropping to the tile fell deaf on your ears.

You ran out of the room as a security guard bumped into you, causing you to stumble. Luckily, Dana was there to catch you. “Hey, I’ve got you.” She assured you. But then she stood you up straight, seeing red streaks on your face and dripping to your neck. “Oh, holy shit.”

You felt numb. Numb to everything. Even the pain in your face couldn’t bring you back to reality. “I just…” You mumbled, looking around. All of the nurses and doctors had their eyes on you. It was overwhelming, and the fluorescent lights started to burn your eyes.

And then your cheek began to hurt. The pain seeped across your face, and hot tears pricked your eyes.

You didn’t even realize that Dana had snatched gauze from a patient’s room. She pressed it to your cheek firmly. “Collins, get over here!” She called out.

You sat down in the chair you had abandoned only two minutes before. Collins ran over to you and tilted your head up with a gentle hand.

“Oh, sweetie, what happened?” She asked sincerely, lifting the gauze delicately.

You winced as fresh air hit the cut. “I don’t know. I think he hit me. And he pulled my hair.” You responded, still in shock.

Collins winced at the wound and replaced the gauze. “I don’t know, that looks like a pretty deep cut.”

Before long, the med students and interns surrounded your chair. You reached a hand to your cheek and carefully pulled the gauze away, finally seeing how much blood had flooded the cloth.

“Oh, shit. That definitely needs stitches.” Santos commented.

If you could roll your eyes, you would have. But you were focused on not puking your guts out in front of the team.

“I shouldn’t have turned my back to him.” You mumbled.

Mohan shook her head. “No way. That is not your fault. Sure, never let a patient get between you and the door. But you shouldn’t have to keep eyes on the patient at all times to ensure your safety.” She redirected.

You closed your eyes, but you could hear others agreeing with her. The pain and attention was too much to handle. You just wanted to be alone. So, you stood slowly. Dana held a hand to your back as you did.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She asked. “You might need a CT.”

You looked to her sluggishly. “I just need some air. I’m just going to the empty room.” You said before quickly escaping from the crowd.

You swished the curtain open and shut. The light above the bed was out, perfect for some peace and quiet. You sat on the bed and crossed your legs. The pain from your cheek was becoming more unbearable by the second as the adrenaline wore off. You closed your eyes and pressed the gauze harder against your skin.

You were incredibly embarrassed. Maybe you were too naive. Fred had a history of violence toward healthcare workers, and you still turned away from him. Trusting him as innocently as a child would. It wasn’t the first time that you underestimated a patient. Langdon always chastised you for being too trusting.

The curtain opened, and you could see the light from the Pitt through your closed eyes. “Dana, please let me have a minute.” You begged.

“I think she’s already given you two minutes.” Robby’s voice responded.

You opened your eyes, and you saw Robby standing in the doorway with a suture pack in his hands. “Oh. I’m sorry, Dr. Robby.” You responded, slightly embarrassed.

Robby smiled and shut the curtain behind him. “No need.” He said and stood over the bed. “Why don’t you let me see what we’re working with?” And tapped your hand holding the gauze.

You moved your hand away from your face and winced. “It’s fine. Just stings a little.” You lied through clenched teeth.

Robby chuckled and shook his head. “No, ma’am. That’s gonna need at least five stitches.” He said.

You watched him move to the side of the room and grab a syringe of lidocaine and some more gauze. He turned the overhead exam light on, and you furrowed your brow at the brightness.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he sat down on the bed next to you. He titled your chin up and began patting down your neck with the extra gauze, cleaning the blood that had dripped from your cheek.

Honestly, you weren’t okay. You felt like you had been taken advantage of, but you didn’t lose anything besides your pride. And a few precious minutes of charting. You felt silly for thinking that a hostile patient wouldn’t lash out at you, even though he had screamed at someone as sweet as Mel King. You felt the tears prick your eyes again, and your bottom lip quivered.

Robby stopped cleaning your face as soon as he met your eyes. “Oh, no. Sweetie, please don’t cry.” He begged and tilted your head back. “The tears are gonna make the cut hurt even more. Just wait for me to inject the lidocaine.” He said.

You swallowed thickly, taking in shaky but deep breaths. You felt his hand grab one of yours and squeezing tightly. “I’m sorry.” You managed to whisper.

Robby made quick work of the cleanup and grabbed the lidocaine syringe. He pulled his black-rimmed glasses out of the pocket of his scrub top and placed them on the bridge of his nose. “Don’t apologize, dear.” He let go of your hand to place his on under your chin to stabilize your head. “Okay. I’m about to inject the lidocaine, and it’s going to burn like hell for a few seconds.” He warned, peering over his glasses to meet your gaze.

You saw the syringe in his hand. The needle wasn’t that big. You knew that. You gave the same injection to patients every shift. But as the needle slowly moved closer to your face, your breathing hitched, and you pulled away from his grasp.

“No, no, I can’t.” You struggled to say through labored breaths.

Robby held his hands up, as if to show you that he wasn’t going to make a sneak attack with the syringe. “(Y/L/N). Look at me. Look at my eyes.” He said, lifting his glasses to rest on the crown of his head.

And so you did. His dark chocolate eyes were framed with permanent laugh lines. Even when he was in a pissy mood, he would smile with sarcasm or exasperation. You didn’t even realize that your breathing had slowed as the silence grew between you. Robby placed the lidocaine syringe on the tray next to the bed, but never broke eye contact.

“Tell me what’s going through your mind.” He said.

You didn’t answer immediately. It almost seemed like a trap. Admitting your insecurities and shortcomings to your boss that he could use as leverage or blackmail whenever he saw fit. But something about his face seemed sincere and almost…worried.

“I’m just…embarrassed. Overwhelmed.” You whispered, finally admitting it out loud.

Robby nodded. “Okay. Those are reasonable feelings to have after an event like that.” He affirmed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head. “No. I’m sorry for being a bitch about the lidocaine. I’m ready now.” You said quickly.

Robby reached for the syringe again and placed a hand under your chin. “Okay. I’m going to make a few injections around the cut. It’ll be over before you know it.” He said and tilted his glasses back down.

You closed your eyes and waited. The needle inserting wasn’t painful, but the lidocaine burned like a motherfucker. You furrowed your brow, trying not to scrunch your face in pain.

“That’s a good girl.” Robby praised as he inserted the needle into your skin again.

Oh. That wasn’t something you expected to hear from him. You opened your eyes to see Robby meticulously moving the needle around your cheek, his mouth open just slightly in concentration. You hoped that your face had already been flushed from the anxiety and pain because you could definitely feel the heat rising up your neck. Suddenly you realized just how close Robby was to you. Even while you both sat at the edge of the bed, he was all but cradling you as he worked.

“And done. How does it feel?” He said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You raised a hand to your cheek and pressed gently. “Oh. I don’t feel anything.” You said, huffing a small laugh.

“Great. That means I can start sewing you up.” He said.

Robby opened the suture kit and began to sort out its contents. You watched him grab the utensils he needed and the suture thread. “Thank you for doing this.” You said.

He turned back to you, ready to start suturing away. “It's the least I can do. I’m upset that one of my residents got attacked under my watch.” He responded, inserting the suture needle. But you didn’t feel it. “After this, I’m gonna write you a prescription for a PEP antiretroviral and do some blood tests.”

Your eyes widened. “For HIV?”

Robby met your eyes for a moment before looking back to your cheek. “Yes, Dr. (Y/L/N). Fred is HIV positive. And while we don’t think the scalpel he cut you with had his own bodily fluids on it, your health comes first. We have to treat because of the risk, even though it’s slim to none.” He explained.

Your heart fell to your stomach, and the tears that you managed to hold back before began to spill over your eyes. “I’m so fucking stupid.” You breathed.

Robby pulled tightly on a suture before beginning the next one. “Hey. Don’t talk like that.” He said. “This is not your fault.”

Your lip quivered, and you looked to the ceiling to try and stop more tears. “Langdon is right. I’m fucking naive. I shouldn’t have ever turned my back to Fred. I knew what he was capable of.”

Robby sighed heavily and tied off the last suture. He placed the instruments back on the metal tray. But then he grabbed one of your hands and lifted his glasses with the other. “You are a good doctor, (Y/N). You are not naive. You are one of the last good people around here.” He said honestly.

Your cheeks flushed again, but you shook your head. “I need to start thinking more like Langdon, like Santos, like…like you.” You said.

Robby frowned, almost in disappointment. “I don’t want you to ever be like me. You are a ray of fucking sunshine, and you make everyone around you smile. Even me.” He said. “As soon as you walk in the room, it gets brighter.”

You smiled slightly. “I can make you smile?” You asked shyly.

Robby chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his feet. “Yeah. Yeah, you do.” He replied. “Sometimes you’re the only good thing about my day. The days where you’re off and I’m here…those are a lot darker.”

You watched your attending fidget with his hands in his lap nervously. You placed one of yours over them. Robby looked up to you, and you felt a real connection this time, deeper than holding each other’s gaze. He held your small hand in both of his.

“Well…you’re making a really shitty day turn into a good one.” You said.

Robby smiled, and the laugh lines around his eyes crinkled. You didn’t realize how close the two of you had naturally inched towards each other until you could feel his breath on your nose and smell his scent. A mixture of coffee and what had to be Old Spice deodorant.

You weren’t sure who leaned in first. But Robby’s lips pressed against yours in a sweet, gentle kiss. His nose brushed against yours, nuzzling your uninjured cheek. You grinned at the feeling of his mouth peppering small kisses across your face.

“Does this make it better?” He asked in between little kisses.

You placed a hand on his neck, fingers reaching up to stroke his hair. You finally pressed your forehead against his to catch his eyes. “All better, Dr. Robby.” You said before giving him another kiss.

[preciosapascal]

Trouble

Summary: You planned to spend the summer at Sarah's, but you show up a day early and she’s not there. Joel doesn't mind.

Word Count: 6k

Pairing: Best Friends Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings/info: 18+ MINORS DNI, pics for mood only, no outbreak au, reader is early-mid 20's and Joel is 47, pet names (darling, baby, ect), SMUT, unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill), one or two uses of pussy pronouns, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, Joel is a lil bit of a perv

A/N: i'm honestly blown away by the amount of love my last story got! thank you so much! been on and off writing this one for a couple of weeks. i hope you enjoy, feedback is much appreciated! if you're interested in my other stories, here's my masterlist 💝

Being best friends with Sarah has it's perks, main one being that she's an amazing friend and you've been inseparable since you met a couple years back in college. Another being you got to spend the last two summers at her house. And the other perk being that her dad is hot. Like really hot.

When you first met him, you thought he was a grumpy bastard, and he can be, but he warmed up to you the more time you spent at the house. You'd share beers with him some evenings, Sarah there too - and tell him all about college, your family and anything else that came up during the conversation.

You once mentioned to Sarah that you thought her dad was 'handsome', putting it lightly, and she laughed her ass off - then told him. You could've died on the spot when she brought it up over pizza that night but you stood your ground, fighting the embarrassment.

"Just being honest." you shrugged, nudging Sarah before glancing at Joel and trying to gauge his reaction. He just laughed quietly, shaking his head. He liked it, whether he'd ever admit it or not.

You laugh at the memory as you drive to their house to stay for the summer for the third year running. Music playing, windows down and a duffle bag full of half of your closet in the trunk. When you arrive you decide you'll grab your bag later and lock your car before walking toward the front door and knocking.

Joel answers after a few seconds, a small smile on his lips. "Afternoon, trouble.”

You're very thankful for the sunglasses that sit on your face as you fully check out the gorgeous man in front of you. Plaid shirt, blue jeans, greying hair combed back. How does he look better every time you see him?

"Sarah's out, staying with Tommy and Maria to babysit while they renovate, not due back till tomorrow mornin'. She not tell you?..."

"Ah shit, no no - she did, I completely forgot." you reply, realising you mixed up the days. The original plan was to come today until Sarah texted you last week to make it a day later, which slipped your mind.

Joel leans against the doorframe, arms crossing over his broad chest; a sympathetic smile graces his lips. He eyes you for a moment, taking in your appearance.

You sigh, pushing your sunglasses up to rest on top of your head. Joel stifles a small chuckle, making you laugh and then pout. "Not funny."

He can’t help but laugh softly to himself at your pouty expression, "Poor darlin’.” he muses teasingly then nods his head into the house, “Come on in, anyway.” he steps aside, giving you room to enter.

"You sure? You don't have to invite me in out of pity." you laugh, though you're internally screaming at the thought of being alone with him.

Joel light-heartedly rolls his eyes and tuts. He gestures to the couch that peeks from around the side of the door. “Make yourself at home, m'gonna grab us a beer if y'want one?" he asks, turning to you as he walks towards the kitchen and you nod in response.

Once you get settled on the couch, Joel fully disappears into the kitchen, and reappears a moment later with two beers. He takes a seat in the chair adjacent from the couch, hands you a beer he opened for you already then opens his own.

It’s quiet for a few beats as he flips the cap off, then Joel says, “No boyfriend or anything yet then?."

You thank him for the beer and then scoff a laugh at his question. "Nah, had a few flings here and there but nothing serious, y'know?" you reply before sipping the cold beer. "

Joel takes a swig of his beer, watching you with a curious expression. “That right? Ain’t found the right guy yet? Cause I'm having trouble understanding what would make a guy not want to stick around.”

You shake your head as you swallow your mouthful, feeling a blush threatening to appear at his comment. "I’m not trying to settle down right now. Whatever happens, happens."

Joel chuckles in response then took another swig from his beer. “You're a bit of a free spirit, aintcha?” he teases, his eyes crinkled at the corners.

"I guess so." you smile, crossing one leg over the other.

Joel’s gaze slowly travels down to your ripped jeans clad legs. Damn, he thinks to himself, you look good. He averts his gaze, forcing himself to think about literally anything else.

"What about you then, hm? No girlfriend yet?" you throw his question right back at him.

Joel scoffs and shakes his head. “Nah, m’not looking either.”

You huff a laugh at the similarity in your answers, yet for some reason, as if it means well for you - your stomach flutters.

"I hear ya." you say, holding your beer out towards him with a playful grin.

Joel mirrors your action and brings his own bottle up to clink it against yours. “To bein’ single, then. Damn, what a depressing toast.”

You laugh, agreeing with him. “To being single." you repeat before you both sip from your bottles.

Silence falls over the room, but it's not awkward, it's comfortable. Joel couldn’t help but steal another glance at you, shamelessly eyeing your figure for a few moments while you checked your phone.

“Guess I’d better grab my bag out of my car.” you sigh, standing up and stretching. Then you pause. “Sarah did tell you I’m staying for the whole summer again, right?”

Joel nods his head in affirmation, “She did. You're welcome to stay tonight too, sweetheart. I'll keep outta your hair."

You smile and nod, placing your beer down before he continues. "Stayin’ here for the whole summer another year running, huh?” he's immediately hit with memories of how loud you and Sarah can get.

"Mhm. Lucky you." you retort with a cheeky grin before grabbing your car keys.

Joel chuckles and shakes his head, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Real lucky.” he says sarcastically as you disappear to fetch your bag. He has another gulp of his beer, his gaze lingering on the spot on the couch where you were sitting.

Joel looks over at you with raised eyebrows when you re-enter the house, taking in how big your duffle bag is. “Geez, how much stuff you got in there?”

“Enough for the whole summer, hopefully. Gonna take this upstairs to Sarah’s room.” you grab the handles, attempting to lift it yet you struggled earlier and your neighbour kindly offered to help lift it into your car because you couldn't lift it high enough to shove it into the trunk.

Joel watches in amusement for a minute as you struggle then he stands up and walks over to you, putting a hand on your arm to stop you. "Woah, woah, hold on. Lemme help you with that, darlin'."

He gently takes the bag off of your shoulder, his fingers grazing your shoulder. "What're you packin' in here? Rocks?"

"Clothes, shoes, accessories, y'know...girl stuff." you move back, opening and closing your hand a few times to get the feeling back.

Joel slings the bag over his shoulder as if it weighs nothing, and you feel a jolt of arousal shoot though you as wonder if he could lift you just as effortlessly.

What you don't realise is that Joel can practically feel your gaze on him the whole time, making him smirk to himself. When he gets to the top he turns around with a smug smile on his face.

"See? Wasn't so hard was it?" he says teasingly, holding that bag up with one hand to prove his point.

"Yeah, yeah." you reply, waving him off.

He playfully rolls his eyes before he walks into Sarah's room, setting your bag down with a thud. You thank him as he descends the stairs before walking back to your spot on the couch and taking your beer.

Joel settles back into his seat. Another comfortable silence washes over the two of you briefly until Joel brakes it.

“Soo,” he drawls, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his gaze meets yours. “How much trouble you plan on causing during your lil’ visit?”

You lean back into the sofa more and exhale an amused puff of air from your nose. "Oh, tons, obviously."

Joel chuckles at your response, shaking his head slightly. His gaze remained on you longer than necessary. The way you were lounging back against the couch was making it difficult for him to think clearly.

“You wanna watch a movie or somethin' before I bore ya to death?” he nods towards the TV, waiting for your reply.

"Oh stop it, you're not boring but sure, a movie sounds good to me."

Joel stands up, grabbing the remote and takes a seat on the other side of the couch you're on this time, only so he could see the tv better, of course, then scrolls through the movie options. "You got a specific movie in mind, trouble'? Or am I pickin'?"

"I'll watch anything, you pick." you say, making yourself more comfy, shifting on the couch and tucking your legs under you.

He glances over at you, his gaze lingering on the way you nestled into the couch, legs tucked under, comfortable. He swallows, focusing back on the TV. He scrolls through the available movies, and after a few moments, settles on a comedy movie. When the opening credits begin to play he settles back into his seat, taking another swig of his beer. His gaze drifts to you every few minutes, he's hyper aware of your presence only one seat away.

At a particularly funny moment, out of habit, you reach out and grasp Joel's forearm as you laugh. It's something you've always done, something Sarah was used to. He jolts slightly in surprise, the touch sending tingles up his arm. He glances down at your hand on his forearm then back up to you. He can vaguely recall you doing this with Sarah but had never been on the receiving end himself.

You catch yourself, reminding yourself who you're with. "Oh god, sorry. I do it to Sarah all the time." you explain, smiling sheepishly and patting his arm before retracting your hand.

He slowly relaxes his shoulders, the corners of his lips tugged into a smile you apologize. "S'alright, no need to apologize." he says, his voice raspy, his southern drawl more evident than usual. In that moment, Joel realises just how much trouble he really is in.

The movie continues playing, but Joel finds it harder to pay attention. The feeling of your hand on him still lingered on his skin, and he found himself wanting more. Instead, he takes his last gulp of beer, his gaze shifting back to the TV. He clears his throat softly before abruptly standing up.

"Another?" he asks, shaking his empty beer bottle and nodding towards yours. You agree, handing him your empty bottle when he holds his hand out for it.

He heads to the kitchen to grab two more beers, taking a minute to collect himself.

He returns, the necks of the beer bottles between his fingers and hands one to you, sitting back down but just a bit closer this time. You notice his sleeves are rolled up now and you can't help gazing at his arms. You're unsure if it's just because they're attached to him or if he really does have nice arms. God you need to get laid soon.

You untuck your legs that now ache slightly and stretch them out before placing them on Joel's lap, a playful grin on your face.

Joel feels his heart rate quicken as you place your legs on his lap and he has to bite his tongue to prevent himself from letting out a single sound.

"Comfy, huh darlin'?" he asks, his voice a little hoarse.

You laugh a little, looking over at him. "I am. You make a great foot rest, actually."

Joel chuckles at your playful words. "Glad I could be of service." he replies, trying to ignore the way your laugh sends jolts of arousal straight to his dick. He takes another gulp of beer, his gaze flickering down and his hand almost moves on its own accord, lightly resting on your ankle.

Late afternoon turns into evening, evening turns into night as you continue watching movies and drink a couple more beers. He's become accustomed to your legs on his lap, and each time you return from making a trip to the kitchen or to the bathroom, he waits the few seconds it takes you to sit back down and rest your legs on him once more. You've both had a few more beers than intended. Joel is feeling a pleasant buzz, and he can tell that you are too.

As the night wears on, Joel gets more bold and starts slowly tracing his fingers up your calf. He only moves a little each time, testing the waters. He keeps his gaze fixed on the movie, but his mind is going wild, his heart thumping in his chest and his dick twitching in his pants.

You swallow hard as his fingers reach the bare skin between the rips in your jeans, while you're trying your hardest to seem unbothered as your eyes are also fixed on the screen.

It feels like you've got an angel and devil on your shoulders like those old cartoons. The angel is telling you that this is a bad idea, stop this right now, this is your best friends dad. Yet the devil is telling you to go for it, you want it, ride it out and hell, ride Joel too.

Joel’s fingers continue their slow journey upwards, tracing circles on the denim. He’s hyper-aware of every movement you make, every hitch in your breath. He knows he's playing a dangerous game, but right now, he doesn’t care.

Over the next few minutes, the movie long forgotten now, his fingers move further, now tracing lazy patterns on the inside of your thigh, just above your knee. He can feel the tension between you growing. He looks over at you, his gaze hooded and heavy.

You can feel his gaze and look over. When your eyes meet, a moment of pure heat and undeniable desire passes between you. There's a fire there, and it's growing with each passing second. Joel's hand continues its slow, rhythmic movement, his thumb lightly grazing the skin of your thigh. His gaze is intense, unyielding.

You mentally flick the angel off your shoulder and mutter "fuck it." before shifting your position so you're now kneeling beside him and turn his face toward you to press your lips against his.

Joel is momentarily caught off guard by your bold move. His mind is screaming this is a bad idea, but his body is singing a different tune. A low moan escapes him, his eyes fluttering shut on reflex.

His free hand immediately grasps the nape of your neck, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. The moment his tongue flicks out to glide against yours, his restraint snaps. He grips your hips with his large hands and tugs you onto his lap.

Suddenly his lips are hot against your neck, trailing a line of kisses as his hands slide from your hips under your shirt, resting on your bare waist.

He pulls back, breathing heavy and looking at you. "C'mon, my room. Not doing this in the family room." he mumbles, pulling you up by your hand. You understand and let him lead you to his room and as soon as you're in there, you resume the position, his back against the headboard and you straddling his lap.

You moan softly as his lips and greying scruff move against your neck again. You've only imagined this hundreds of times before and now it's happening, all reasoning and goodwill and out the window.

With how easy it is for him to slip into this, and you, you're rethinking everything that's ever happened. Everything you've ever convinced yourself was Joel just being friendly, fleeting looks, touches, everything. You know for sure now it was what you thought.

“You know exactly what you’ve been doing. A-always hovering around when I’m here with Sarah…touching my back when you walk past me…” you whisper, slowly rocking your hips against his.

“Fuck, I know.” he rasps, his hands moving up to your hips, holding you in place to match your rhythm. You take your chance to place kisses on his neck. He smells faintly of cologne and a natural manly musk that makes your cunt clench around nothing.

"Always teasing me." you murmur between kisses against his neck.

Joel lets out breathy curse and rolls his head back to give you more access. His hands slide down to your ass, gripping tightly to chase the delicious friction between you. “Teasing you? Darlin’ I was trying to be a fuckin’ saint.”

You place a couple more kisses on his neck before lifting your head from his neck, moving your arms to hang loosely over his shoulders and looking him in the eye. “Yeah? Walking around in only a towel after your shower? Leaning over me at the table to grab stuff?” you continue grinding your hips down onto his as you speak.

Joel’s eyes go nearly black as you recount his actions, and it finally occurs to him that he wasn’t nearly as subtle as he thought he was, and he loves it.

He pushes you down onto his bed on your back and lifts your tank top, his calloused fingers grazing the skin of your sides.

“What about you? When you’d bend all the way over just to grab somethin' from the refrigerator when you knew I was behind you? Paradin' yourself around my house in your tiny shorts?"

You mindlessly run your nails gently up and down his arms as he hovers over you. "I knew you were watching. Always watching when I'm here, aren't you Joel?" you ask, tilting your head.

Joel yanks the fabric over your head and tosses it to the floor, his eyes roaming over your chest covered by a lacy white bra. He leans down, chest pressed against yours, and responds in a gruff tone

“Like a damn hawk, darlin’.” His large hands trail up your sides, his head dips down to graze his lips across your collar bone. “Always watchin'…listenin' to you, smellin' your sweet perfume all over my fuckin' house.” he murmurs against you.

You think back to the fact you used to spray it everywhere, hoping to god it had this sort of affect and you almost smirk.

He hums against your neck, his hands roaming down to your jeans, finger and thumb making quick work of the button. “Thought I was going crazy.” he mumbles, tugging on the zip. “Could smell you everywhere...was like torture.” he says, moving back and pulling your jeans off, throwing them aside too.

“Fuck…I imagined us like this so many times. your big hands all over me- fuck.” you whimper as his thumbs run over your hard nipples through the flimsy cups of your bra, making your back arch off the bed.

Joel’s mind nearly explodes as you tell him your dirty thoughts. All those hours of him holding back, trying to keep his mind from wandering, and you were doing the same? He almost smirks.

He takes advantage of the fact you're arched so beautifully for him and slips a hand under you, his fingers splayed across your lower back and the other reaching to unclasp your bra. He pulls it down your arms, dropping it onto the pile of other clothes.

He pushes himself up on one hand, the other reaching down between you, fumbling with his belt as he speaks, “That right, darlin'? I’ve tugged my cock countless times thinkin' about having you like this.”

"You've stroked your cock over me?" you ask, eyes on the hand unbuckling his belt.

He looks up at you, eyes almost completely consumed with lust, as he unzips his jeans and pulls them down his thighs a little, just enough for his cock to not feel like it's suffocating in his boxers.

“Mm. Spent so many nights imagining burying my cock inside you…” he continues, and grinds his clothed length against you, as if demonstrating before continuing.

“God, the way you look at me…” he groans. “the way you laugh at my shitty jokes, those little outfits you wear…” he says, hitching one of your legs around his waist and leaning down towards you, his eyes scanning your face.

“You remember when I had that barbecue last summer? you and Sarah danced…and every time you spun…that damn skirt would ride up.”

You remember that very well…after all, you wore it on purpose. You felt kind of guilty after that, kind of parading yourself around for your besties father (even though Sarah had no idea), but knowing now how it affected him, that's the last thing on your mind.

“Yeah, I remember." you reply, wrapping your other leg around his waist and pulling him towards you more, needing more friction.

He practically loses it as you grind against him, thinking about when he sat in his backyard, trying to ignore the way your little skirt bounced, or how he would see your perfect ass cheeks peeping out of the bottom of your shorts. He was about to go mad.

“oh, I know you did. bet you fucking knew I was sitting there, trying to act normal while I’m dyin’, watching your perfect ass appear and disappear under that skirt."

You whimper as he cups one of your bare breasts, the other hand trailing downwards. “Look at these.” Joel whispers as he leans forward and takes a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue over the bud.

“Tell me, baby. Tell me what you thought about when you were dancin', what you wanted me to do’.” he murmurs between teasing licks, his other hand teasing you through the fabric of your now soaked panties.

You let out a desperate moan, your mind begging him to do something. “I wanted…I wanted you to grab me, make me dance on your cock instead.” you say, voice strained as you try to grind yourself against his fingers.

A breathy curse escapes him at your words. He had to hear you say it. He needed to know you were thinking the same dirty thoughts as him. “You got no idea...wanted to grab you, pull your skirt up and fuck you right there.”

The mental imagine his filthy words conjure up, and his fingers teasing your pussy through your panties have you letting out a desperate noise you don't even recognise. God the noises you made. He needed to hear more of them, so his fingers slip under the side your panties.

“Y'like hearing what I wanna do to ya, huh?” he rasps as his fingers slide through your folds. “Soaked just thinking about it.”

You curse when his fingers finally make contact with your bare pussy and moan out a pathetic "Yeah."

“Fuuck, that’s it baby. Make those pretty noises for me.” Joel groans, easily slipping two fingers in your sopping centre, making you blush at how desperate you are right now. He begins to pump them and at a toe curling rhythm, making you gasp and moan his name.

He shuffles down your body, and pulls your panties aside to get a better look.

"So pretty." he murmurs, practically salivating at the sight before him, continuing his ministrations. He moves even closer, his hot breath ghosting over you, making you exhale and bite your lip.

"Tha’s right, baby. show me how bad you want it.” he says, his thumb now circling your clit. His eyes flit between your perfect pussy that's drenching his fingers and your pretty face as it contorts in pleasure. You reach behind you, grasping the edge of the mattress to ground yourself.

"Gotta taste this pussy. Can I, baby? Will ya let me?" he mumbles against the inside of your thigh before his tongue flicks out to tease the skin. He withdraws his fingers, toying with the slick, running it up and down your slit.

"ohgod...please." you almost whine. His cock is throbbing and almost hurts with every sound you make. He can smell your sweet scent and it's driving him insane. The moment you agree, his face is directly in front of your cunt, inhaling deeply.

Without warning, he licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, tongue flat. You sigh, almost in relief at the sensation. Fuck it felt so good. He lets out a low moan, as if he were a starved man having eating for the first time in days.

His tongue dances over your sensitive little bud, his mind reeling. He never thought it'd happen. Yet here you are, legs open in front of his face and he was basking in it.

He hooks your legs over his shoulders, his lips latch onto your clit, sucking hard. You gasp and thread your fingers through his hair.

His hands trail over your thighs and then up to cup your tits, squeezing them gently. He alternates his tongues movements, licking and sucking, your moans and whimpers not helping the fact his cock feels slightly neglected now.

After a little more, he pulls away from your clit with a pop and looks up at you, his lips, chin and even the tip of his nose glistening with your juices. "She's a great kisser." he teases, wiping his face on his sleeve before slipping off the bed, rising to his feet and unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it aside. That line should've made you cringe and with anyone else it probably would've, but it didn't.

"Can I return the favour?" you ask as you prop yourself up on your elbows, wanting nothing more than to have his cock sliding down your throat.

"As good as that sounds darlin', my cocks achin' to get inside ya." he says, pulling his jeans and boxers down and kicking them aside. He gets back onto his bed, resting against the headboard. "c'mere." he beckons you over.

Your eyes trail down his body, shamelessly looking at his cock as you move towards him. He's bigger than you imagined, his balls big and heavy underneath. You don't have that much time to look as Joel pulls you over to him. "Havin' a good look there?" he teases, a smirk plastered on his face as you mount him.

"Well I mean, you just had your face between my legs, s'only fair I get a peek of what I'm about to sit on." you retort your hands on his shoulders as you hover above him, sitting up on your knees.

He lets out a low husky chuckle, the fact that you were comfortable enough to tease him back made his cock twitch and then a deep groan erupts from him as you run your pussy up and down the underside of his cock.

"You enjoy being a little tease, huh? like playi- fuck -playin' little games?" his voice is strained as you move a little further than intended, his cock nudging your entrance, making you both moan. He grips your hips, leaning back and his eyes zero in on where you're almost connected. "Again." he breathes. "fuck, do that again."

You happily comply, whimpering every time the head nudges your clit and moaning in sync with him as it prods your soaking wet hole. "Jesus-" he grunts, his head falling back. It feels so fucking good but it's taking everything in him not to drag you down onto his cock.

He can't take much more, and you're right there with him. Desperate to feel him properly. He wraps an arm around your waist, lifting you and grabs the base of his cock to line himself up. "you ready, baby?" he murmurs against the skin of your shoulder.

"mhm." you hum as his hands grip your hips. "but, slow...at first. been a while." you mumble, cheeks flushing.

His lust filled eyes soften for a moment at your confession. "you just take what you need, however you need to. we got all night, sweetheart."

Your heart flutters a little at that. This man just told you how much he's dreamed of fucking you, that he's been playing with his cock to the thought of you, yet being so understanding on top of that makes him even sexier.

You nod, before lowering yourself down on him. He closes his eyes, jaw ticking as he tries to stay still, the urge to buck up into your tight heat almost to much. "tha's it, baby...just like that."

You can't help the string of noises that escape your lips as you slowly sink onto him. When you reach the bottom, you rest your forehead on his shoulder.

"You okay?" he breathes out, one of his hands moving from your hip to trace his finger tips up your spine.

"m'fine. just needed a second." you say, fighting the embarrassment. It's not like you've never rode a dick, but it's just been while and jesus was this one bigger than the others. You suck it up and lift your head to meet his eyes, giving him a nod to let him know you're good to go. You slowly start to lift, with Joel guidance, before moving back down.

You moan together as you move, his eyes glued to your face. One hand still on your back and the other on your hip to keep you steady. "you feel so fuckin' good...don't stop. keep goin'..like that." His words only encourage you, your pace picking up as you ride him, the lewd sounds of your bodies coming together filling the air.

He starts to move his hips, matching your movements and hitting that spongey spot inside your cunt, making your eyes roll back. He takes advantage of that fact, watching your tits bounce in his face as he tries to catch a nipple with his tongue.

"Oh god...Joel..." you moan, leaning back and grasping his thighs behind you.

"Tha's right, beautiful. Fuck yourself on your friend's old mans cock." he says, watching your body move. His words are disgusting, they should turn you off, yet they make you tighten around him.

"Ah, you like that don't cha? Dirty fuckin' girl."

You nod, the embarrassment shooting straight down to your cunt. "Yeah?" he coos, pressing you, wanting to hear you say it.

"Mmyeah." you whimper pathetically as you continue moving up and down his thick cock.

"Look at me, baby girl. I wanna see that gorgeous face." He says in that deep, gravelly voice, his hand moving to your chin and tilting your head down to look at him. As soon as your eyes lock on his, the intensity makes you moan. "There she is..." he says, looking at how fucking wrecked you look. Pupils blown, cheeks flushed, hair dishevelled.

Your chest flutters and cheeks burn a little darker under his gaze. God, you always imagined you'd be more confident if you ever got to fuck him, thought you'd be calling the shots. But he's got you, and you're lost in it.

He starts to meet your movements, lifting his hips to bury himself to the hilt over and over. His hand moves from your chin to your neck, his fingers wrap around it. Your breath hitches and it makes he smirk again. "This what you want?" he murmurs, giving your throat a light squeeze.

"Mmmm, yes.." you mewl, barely able to talk. Your mind is swimming in lust and desire, our thoughts consumes by the man in front of you. He tightens his grip around your neck, his thumb pressing on your jaw to keep your gaze locked on him.

"What about last fourth July? remember that?" he asks with his signature gruff drawl.

You know exactly what he’s talking about and it makes you moan. "Mmh- yeah…" you manage. "I remember."

He gives a low, amused chuckle as he recalls the memory. "You in that lil’ blue bikini...walkin’ around my place, all tan and wet." Every other word he speaks is met with a harder thrust, making you whine.

Memories of that day flood your mind and heat pools in your belly. That was the first time you noticed Joel stare at you in a way that wasn't how your best friends dad should.

"Joel...I need- please I-" He takes the hint, shifting your position so you're now on your back on his bed, his cock still nestled deep inside you.

"I know, baby, I know." He purrs, his face going between your neck and collarbone, nipping and sucking all the sensitive skin he can get his mouth on. He lifts your left leg and drapes it over his hip, then he quickly buries himself in your tight heat again. "Fuuuck you're so tight.." he moans, head falling back.

His cock constantly hits the right spot over and over, you're sure your vision will go white any second. "So good...mmfuck, Joel..."

Your hands that look small in comparison to his, grasp his biceps and pull him down for a desperate, messy kiss. Joel's body covers yours, his muscular form surrounding you. He kisses you feverishly, every movement of his tongue and lips making that feeling in your gut coil tighter and tighter.

"Joel-” you gasp as the feeling in your stomach gets stronger. He can already feel how tight you're getting around him.

"Gonna come ain'tcha? C'mon baby, lemme feel you." his own breathing is ragged, he's not far behind you. He leans down, pressing kisses to the column of your throat as he fucks you faster.

You're unable to form a coherent sentence anymore, just needy sounds escaping you as he fucks you good, your walls tightening around him and making his hips stutter.

"There ya go...keep squeezin' me like that.." he encourages, hips moving impossibly faster.

"M'so close." you whimper, nails leaving little crescent indents in his back.

"Mmyeah, I know baby...can feel it. Gonna fill this lil' pussy up. That what you want? Wanna be full of me?" he grits, lifting his head up from your neck.

"Shit...yeah, I want it. Give it to me, please." you beg in your lust filled haze. You're right on the edge now, just needing a little something to help you over.

A gravelly moan rumbles in his chest at your words. "Look at you...wrecked and begging for my come." Those words have you clenching him again. He's so fucking close but wants to make sure you get there first.

You only whine in response, unable to come up with words as that tightness in your stomach gets so tight, you feel like you'll snap. It's like he's everywhere at once, the sensations are overwhelming and you can barely take it.

"I got ya, baby. C'mon now. Need t'see you fall apart on my cock." he murmurs.

That's it, that's all it takes. Your thighs are trembling, vision hazy, back arching, toes curling, all the orgasm cliches you'd never experienced with these frat boys who just want to get their dicks wet.

Joel watches you in awe. "Oh fuck...there we go, jus' like that." That was it for Joel too, watching you fall apart sends him over. His head drops down, hips stuttering as he rides through it with you, his movements slowing.

You're both trying to catch your breaths, sweat covers your bodies. Joel's still on top, supporting his weight with a hand on either side of your head. He lifts up slightly so he can look at you, a smirk plastered on his bearded face.

"Looking real happy with yourself there." you say, letting out a small breathy laugh.

He chuckles, the sound deep and satisfied. "Can ya blame me?" he murmurs, his head dipping down to press a kiss to your cheek, his beard scratching your skin.

But the sounds of the front door opening downstairs makes you both freeze and then Sarah's voice rings out, calling for you both. She'd have seen your car outside.

Fuck.

[jaeyunnz]

"I'll be a good boy."

jake + f¡reader ❤︎

WARNINGS: sub!jake, dom¡reader, making out, begging, dirty talk, sucking him off, grinding, unprotected sex (don't do it stay safe.) jake calls reader mommy. whining and pet names.

Note: Sorry if this sounds rushed in anyway.

this is proofread !!!! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

jake has a fever and goes to the doctor for medicine — he gets prescribed with a pill that makes him feel extremely horny and comes to you for help.

Jake has had a fever for a week or so, and its been getting worse. Eventually he took your advice to go to the doctors — and check out whats wrong. When he got back home at night, your met with a tight back hug which causes you to jump slightly. You didn't even realize Jake got home yet.

Hes always been a bit touchy, but today feels different. when you finally lift your head up to look at his face, he’s blushing profusely, pupils dilated and panting a bit. "sorry... i missed you." he mutters out, "i-i took medicine from the doctor for my fever, but now i feel so weird." he whined.

As soon as you open your mouth to speak, Jake accidentally presses himself against you, your body smooshed on the counter. "Jake...?" he buries his face into the crook of your neck and inhales deeply, letting out a soft, whimper. "mhmm?" he mumbles against your skin, his hands tightening on your waist as he pulls you closer, his hips still grinding slowly against your backside.

"What did the doctors prescribe you with baby?" You breathe out, trying to suppress a moan. he pulls back just slightly, pupils blown wide as he stares intensely into your eyes. a dazed, weak smile curls his lips. "i dunno... feel so fucking loopy. doc said this cold med's potent shit."

"Maybe you need some rest?" his gaze drops to your lips, a shiver running down his spine. his growing bulge twitches against you while he leans in closer, breath ghosting over your mouth. "maybe... but i don't wanna sleep right now." He slightly rocks his hips back and forth against you.

You bite your lower lip, gripping on the counter. "I think it's best if you do. You'll probably feel better—" before you can finish your sentence, jake lets out a whine pitifully, brows furrowed as he stares pleadingly at you, pupils dilating further. "pleeeeease don't leave me. i'm fucking baked, can barely think straight." he grips your shirt, desperate.

"How else are you supposed to get better then?" You say softly as he nuzzles his face against the back of your neck, placing his hands on the counter to cage you in. "i-i dont know..." he whimpers softly, "all i know is i need you to touch me. somewhere, anywhere... please." Your eyes widen when those words slip out of his mouth, unsure what to do.

You want to keep encouraging him to get some rest, because maybe that'd help him have a clear mind. But his pleading eyes and whimpers — its hard to say no.

"Jake i don't know. I really think you just need to sleep this off." he looks at you with wide puppy eyes, frowning. "n-no please, i don't want to.." his hands grip your hips, pulling you against his hardness more, eliciting a small gasp from you. "p-please.. i'll be a good boy i promise.. — i promise."

You give in — the begging too tempting. The next thing you know you find your hand sliding down to grope and rub his bulge, causing a sigh of relief to escape his lips. "mmph.. yeah there baby. touch me there." He gasps out as you trace circles against the fabric, his legs shaking slightly.

His mouth is wide open, watching you stroke his clothed dick. He leans in and presses his lips against yours, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. The kiss is soft and sloppy, his tongue lolling out to lick at your lips. You let out a quiet moan, slipping your hand into his jeans and continuing your gentle strokes.

He gasps against your mouth, his tongue immediately takes advantage of your parted lips, slipping into your mouth to tangle with yours. The kiss is messy, filled with soft moans and gentle nips. Slowly, his hands slide down to grab your ass, pulling you flush against his hardening bulge. "m-mmph... baby, i want..." he whimpers, unable to finish his sentence. "Want what baby? Use your words." he looks into your eyes with lust. "w-want... to be inside you.."

You bite your lower lip, unsure what to do. Jake still has a fever and is way too weak to take charge — usually hes the one to lead, but not today, not when hes sick. This is new to you, though your quite enjoying it.

"Come," you whisper out, pulling back from Jake. You grab his hand, leading him upstairs to the bedroom. Once you both get inside, the door slams shut. "Sit on the bed," you order, Jake doesn't question and follows you, plopping on the edge of the bed. You make your way over to him, hovering over his lap and he looks up at you, moving his hand up to place on your hip.

You slowly lean down and start leaving trails of wet sloppy kisses down his neck, sucking and biting the skin, leaving a few purple — red marks. He whimpers out, already arching his back, though all your doing is kissing his neck.

The kisses get lower, now down to his chest and stomach before you reach the ground, on your knees. Jake looks down at you and his breath hitches when he sees your eyes darting to his belt, he knows what your about to do and his cock throbs violently against the fabric of his jeans.

"Take them off." You say, he nods and begins to undo his belt with shakey hands. Hes so needy for your touch that he cant even take his belt off properly — hands fondling with it. Once he finally gets it off, he throws it on the floor. His bulge is now clearly outlined in his jeans, a wet spot forming at the tip.

"p-please.." he whines out as your hands reach up to help pull his jeans down along with his boxers, lifting his hips up to help you do so. When his dick finally springs free, you see pre-cum already leaking from the reddish head, twitching slightly. "Please what baby?" a smirk appears on your lips. Your enjoying his begging a bit too much.

Jake bites down on his lower lip, "suck it please." He bucks his hips up slightly. "Ah ah ah," you murmur, his gaze meeting yours. "I said please what? You have to ask nicely." he swallows hard, unsure what you mean, "i-i did... i said please—" you cut him off when your hand wraps around the base of his cock, he lets out a gasp from the sudden touch. "Your forgetting something baby. Whats my name?"

His eyes widen, understanding what you mean. He hesitates for a moment before whimpering out, "m-mommy, please suck my... my dick." His face flushes, looking away embarrassed. This was his first time ever calling you that — but it turns you on.

"Good boy." You give his dick a few strokes before leaning your head down, kitty licking the red tip. He rolls his eyes back, digging his nails into the bedsheets, trying his hardest not to shove his cock down your throat. Your soft lips wrap around the head fully, Jake's head tilting back from the sudden warmth and wetness. You slowly take more and more of his length down your throat, gagging a bit from his big size.

When you begin to slowly bob your head, he lets out a loud moan, bringing his hand down to grab your hair and pull it up into a ponytail so it wasnt in your face. This made you move your head up and down his cock at a faster pace, gripping onto his knees for balance as he fills the room up with his desperate whines and whimpers.

Your mouth stretches to accommodate his size, drool dripping down the sides of your lips. Jake thrusts his hips forward, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, causing you to gag and choke slightly. You moan around his length, sending vibrations through his body, his back arching from the feeling. "fuck mm... im gonna cum." He breathes out heavily before you pull his cock out of your mouth, not wanting him to cum just yet.

"why'd you stop baby?" He frowns before you slowly sit onto his lap, he lets out a gasp when you do so, the fabric of your pants pressing on his exposed cock. "I want you to be inside me before you cum," he bites his lower lip, changing the position by picking you up and laying you down on your stomach, pulling your hips up. "you'll let me fuck you?" He says softly as you nod, grinding your hips up and down against him and pressing your ass firmly on his bare cock. His body stutters when you do so, digging his nails into your hips. "t-thank you mommy... thank you."

Your eyes roll back slightly from his words and movements, He watches you slide your shorts down, poking his tongue against his cheek while you pull your panties aside, giving him better access. He gulps hard, sliding his hard cock partway through your wet folds. He growls softly, "shittt. y-youre so wet baby.." His eyes snap to yours, seeing you toss your hair back and spread your thighs wider. Hes desperate and cant wait any longer so he lines himself up and shoves inside you hard, making you cry out and gasp from the sudden gesture, no warning at all.

"A-ah jake—" He silences you with a deep, hard thrust, his cock hitting your g-spot immediately. He starts pounding into you ruthlessly, not caring about being gentle. "fuck, your pussy is so tight..." He whimpers, seeing your head throw back in pleasure. You arch your back fully against his thrusts, mouth slightly opened. The loud moans spurs him on so he grips your hips harder, spreading your legs wider to get in deeper, your breasts bouncing with his rough thrusts, "m-mm.. feels so fucking good..." your body shakes with each of his movements.

He feels you clenching tightly around his length, knowing youre close. You shove your face into the pillow, muffling your loud moans and screams of pleasures. "J-jake i might... cum—" He hears your words and grabs your hair, pulling your head back while his other hand reaches down to rub your clit roughly. "cum for me... cum on my cock right now."

His words were enough for you to reach your climax. Jakes eyes roll back as he feels your walls tighten around him. He fucks through your orgasm, prolonging it. "fuck, fuck..." He grabs your breasts roughly, continuing to thrust deep inside you. He watches you throw your head back in ecstasy, your pussy still spasming around his cock. He pinches your nipples hard, eliciting another moan.

"f-fuck... you're taking my dick so well. taking every inch mommy..." He keeps pounding into you, feeling his own release building. Your eyes tear up from the roughness and pleasure, biting down on the pillow sheet. With a deep grunt, Jake buries himself deep inside you, his cock twitching violently. "fuck, im cumming..." he gasps, whining out, "im cumming!" He pumps load after load of hot cum deep into your cunt as you let out a loud squeal, your hips shaking violently.

The both of you collapse onto the bed. His eyes drop to your body, seeing his cum leaking out of your pussy. He spreads your legs wider, watching his load trickle down your thighs before slowly pulling out, making you both moan from the loss of contact.

He then gently nuzzles his face into your neck, cuddling you into his arms, "t-thank you mommy, i feel better.." You giggle tiredly at him, out of breath. "I'm glad baby. You should get some rest though, hm?" He nods, hiding his face in your chest, embarrassed.

💘: thank you guys so much for 1000+ notes on tasting tempations and 200 followers !!!! 🥹💕 IM SEEING ALL YOUR REQUESTS AND I PROMISE ILL GET TO THEM IMMEDIATELY <3

[pacofprunes]

SQUID GAME CHARACTERS KINKS HEADCANONS

CONTAINS — namgyu x reader, thanos x reader, daeho x reader, semi x reader, myungi x reader

WARNINGS — (fem reader) 18+ content minors dni

masterlist

NAMGYU / PLAYER 124 — dacryphilia, hand over your mouth

dacryphilia — loves the sight of your tears from how well he’s pleasing you. he definitely teases you and will make fun of you for it, but he loves it, don’t worry. after the first time he makes you cry, he decides that anytime you two have sex, he has to make you cry. sometimes he’s a little rougher to obtain this. weather that be by pinching your nipples or biting your neck a little too hard, it doesn’t matter, he has to see those pretty tears.

the sight of his hand over your mouth also just gets him going. it makes him feel like he’s got some sort of power over you and he’s living for it. you just look so pretty as your tears slide over his palm, he can’t help himself.

THANOS / PLAYER 230 / CHOI SU-BONG — chemsex

not really an actual term, but hes a druggie and what’s better than doing drugs while having sex with you? and i don’t just mean popping a quick pill in his mouth, nah. doing lines of coke all over you. snorting that shit off your neck, off your tits, off your ass, everywhere. loves blowing the smoke from his fruity vape right onto your clit and if he’s got a condom on, he’ll lay down on his side and have you snort a line of coke right off of his dick. it’s certainly not safe, but if he’s super high out of his mind, he’s just gonna let you snort the coke off of his dick raw. no condom. loves the feeling of your nose rubbing lightly against his dick and the feeling of the air from your nose. got him cumming without really even touching him that much.

for sure takes a hit of his vape before going into kiss you and then blowing it all into your mouth.

“you’re thanos’s girl, yeah? hah, got two of my favorite things together. drugs and your pretty pretty pussy.”

KANG DAEHO — sitophilia, cockwarming

sitophilia — not into all foods, more specifically, whip cream. god, licking it off your perky nipples and licking it off right above your clit and then dragging his tongue down all the way through your folds? he’s already cumming. which on another note, he loves eating you out. might accidentally overstimulate you if he gets super into it.

he also lovessss cockwarming. just pushing into you, bottoming out completely and being cuddled up close to you, your bodies warmth being shared between each other makes his cock twitch. he loves feeling your warm walls melt and tighten around him every so often. everytime you move to get comfortable, you run the risk of him cumming after only a few seconds. the whole situation gets him painfully hard. there’s times where he can fall asleep with you like that. there’s even been times where you’ll straddle his lap, keeping his dick warm while you two sit in a chair at your dinner table and you’re sitting on his lap and you feed each other. everytime you two laugh at a joke or the goofiness of the situation, it’s causes him to thrust up in you or you to bounce on him, immediately causing him to grip onto your waist and press his forehead to your chest as he takes choked up shaky breaths trying to compose himself. sometimes he can last a long time just staying still, content with letting you just cockwarm him. and other times? he’s a begging mess and just can’t hold on any longer.

“baby, i don’t think i can stay still much longer. let me move, please?”

SE-MI / PLAYER 380 — manhandling, orgasm denial, overstimulation, voyeurism

she likes knowing that your pleasure is in her hands. if you want to cum, it’s not your choice, it’s hers. loves pulling her tongue away from your clit right when she can tell you’re about to squirt all over her face. loves seeing you beg for her to let you cum, and eventually she’ll give in. if she’s feeling a little mean, after she finally lets you cum, she’ll keep her tongue attached to your pussy. she’ll keep on sucking it over and over and she won’t stop until you’re crying out.

“what? i thought you said you wanted to cum, baby.”

voyeurism— sometimes when she pulls away when you were oh so close to cumming, she has you make yourself finish. she watches you finger yourself and rub circles into your clit while listening to your sweet moans. she loves it when you can’t do it yourself and you have to beg her to help you.

she also loves manhandling you. doesn’t have to be extreme either. just holding you down by your hips or her putting you into any position she desires gets her going. she just loves knowing she has all the power and the control over you.

MYUNGI / PLAYER 333 / MG COIN ★ — rough sex, vanilla

i don’t think he’s into anything too crazy. i think he’s going to have very calm more organized and kept together thrusts while he has a nice grip on your hips, but then there’s other times where he’s in a shitty mood or just feeling different and his thrusts are a lot sloppier and a lot harder. his grip on your hips is tighter, almost digging his fingers into you. i also think hes into quickies as well. maybe not so much into them, but he does have quickies quite often with you. sometimes he has fun with it, sometimes it’s just because he has to get his dick wet. i think he’s generally a more tame guy, but that doesn’t make the sex with him bad at all. he knows what he’s doing, and he’s the best at it.

[biteyoubiteme]

Can I get Felix nsfw fic about breeding kink👀

lost luggage

felix x fem!reader

synopsis: the one where you lost your birth control pills.

warnings: 🔞!!! hand job mention, fingering mention, breeding kink, talk of birth control, creampie, no protection, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 1.6k

an: this is not the best im so sorry but I love this pic of felix so so much and I hope you like it <33 thank you so much for requesting! not proofread sorry :p

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

You had lost your suitcase. Or the airline had misplaced the luggage and claimed to get it to you in the next forty-eight hours. Apologizing for the inconvenience and sending you on your way. It hadn't been too big a deal, Felix talking you down from the anger bubbling up inside you, not necessarily at the airline but at yourself for thinking this would never happen to you. And then yes at the airline and their stupid bad timing and even worse customer service. 

But Felix was there, hand on your shoulder, heady voice in your ear, whispering about taking you out to grab the essentials, to not worry about this one setback. He didn't even care about showing up late to the party you two had been flown out for in the first place. “We will be here all week, being an hour or two late won’t hurt anyone,” 

He was right, everyone had been sympathetic to your situation, cursing the baggage claim gods just as passionately as you had. But it wasn't until the third day of your trip that you remembered one of the key things left in your toiletries bag. The little foil and plastic case of your birth control pills, hastily added into the bag because it was always right there on the edge of the sink next to your toothbrush, taken in the morning consistently enough that you never really forget about it. Not until it was one of the last things on your mind when trying to remember exactly what you needed to buy to replace the lost items for the time being. 

You would have forgotten entirely if it hadn't been for your reflex to reach out for the pill case the second you have finished washing your face. “Shit,” you scrambled to think up the last time you had sex, save the lazy hand jobs the two of you had exchanged in bed that first night. Felix's fingers buried deep inside you as the two of you made out, his soft moans trapped against your lips with each drag of your hand on him. 

Felix hummed a question from the hotel's bed, still lying back against the headboard scrolling on his phone. “What is it?” 

“My birth control was in the checked bag,” you sighed, over the whole thing, if you thought about the bag too much it would just put you right back to the mindset you had right at that airport help desk. “It's fine, calm, cool, collected thoughts just like you said,” you tried to mimic his sweet soothing voice, letting the syllables relax in your mouth to make them true. “If we have sex we will just be careful and when I get the bag back I will make sure to always listen to my gut and put essentials into the carry on,” 

The conversation had been over and done with, forgotten by you as you got ready to go out but not forgotten by Felix. The first thing that came to his mind was the same thought as you, when was the last time you had sex, did you two happen to slip up? Then his mind tripped down a road of questions he never found himself exploring; would it be so bad if you two had slipped up? What if neither of you cared? What if he did get you pregnant? 

Never had his body reacted so fast to an idea, blood rushing down to his cock until it was aching and dripping precum at a rate he hadn't ever experienced. It wasn't as if he had never thought about having kids with you, no this was different, the risk of it right now. Just thinking about how close the two of you had been without realizing it, how only the night before if he had pushed into you, fucked you until you were dumb on his cock, spilling inside you only to do it all over again, you'd be claimed in a way he never would have thought about until this very second. 

He wanted that; to watch you dripping with his cum, claimed as his in a way no other man had ever had you, ready to do it over and over again until you were stuffed so full you couldn't even think about anything else but him and him alone. He was shifting in his seat, trying and failing to adjust himself in his sweatpants, his bulge slung across his thigh, noticeable enough for when you came out of the bathroom again needing the zipper of your dress done up. You chuckled,“Just hearing me say sex gets you hard now?” 

Your hands were on the front of your dress, holding it up and in place, pushing up your boobs just the right amount to draw his eyes in. If you got pregnant they would get bigger, maybe even double in size, and it's all that he can see as he pulls you down on the bed. 

The breath is knocked out of you, his hips fitting right between yours pressing his clothed cock right against you, grinding as he kisses down your neck, leaving a sloppy trail of them right down to your cleavage. Pulling down your dress just enough to free your tits from the fabric, his moan deep in the back of his throat as he takes in your peaked nipples. “Look at how pretty,” he always lets his voice drag out, running low enough to get your panties soaked. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?” 

He's looking at you from under his lashes, drawing you in with every little word. You would be anything he wanted you to be if it got him to look at you like that, every little freckle on display under his heated lazy gaze. Your chin barely moves to nod yes and he's got his hands under your dress, tearing your panties away. He wanted you in a way he's never felt before, the walls of his reserve packed up tight now crumbling down at the sight of your glistening cunt. 

Felix doesn’t falter in his movements tugging himself free from his sweatpants, jerking his wrist over his veiny shaft, circling his fingers over his tip collecting all his precum. You're spilled out on the sheets, dress pushed into a belt around your center, your knees falling open for him just enough so that when he pulls you to the edge of the bed you can wrap them around him. Your hips jerk at the sensation of him dragging his cock through your folds, getting himself as lubed up on your wetness as he can before he pushes in. 

The sound of his moan rumbled through his body, no time to let you adjust to the size of him before he's plumbing into you. Your hands shoot out for his wrists, his fingers denting into your hips to keep you in place. “Oh fuck- you always take my cock so well baby-” Every drag of his cock against your gummy walls is pure bliss, your mind fogging up with each sweet word he shares. “Sucking me in and begging me to fill you,” 

It's then that you realize you forgot a condom, not that either of you had one handy, not when you relied so heavily on your pills. “You have to- you'll have to-” but as much as you want to say the words they get stuck right on the edge of a whimper, pull out, right on the edge of your tongue. But its all tamped down when he adds, “ill have to fill you up, pump you full of my cum- fuck- push it back in and do it again,” 

Felix had never brought this up before, not even when he was desperately begging you to finish with him, buried deep in you needing to hear you cry for him. This was different, panting as he went on and on, “Everyone will know you're mine, all plump and perfect with my baby,” he lets one of his hands press down into your pelvis, slapping skin sticky in the air, knees weak from the feeling. “I'm going to cum right here, you feel that?” he digs the heel of his palm in, the tip of his cock pressed right where he wants it, tucked against your cervix hitting it until you're a shaking mess below him. “You'regoing to be so full of me, don't you want that? Tell me you want my baby,” 

“Felix,” you're gasping, scratching at the sheets trying and failing to find purchase on something to keep you grounded because, with each snap of his hips against yours, you're losing it, scrambling to find sanity. 

“Tell me, fuck- oh fuck- please, tell me,” he's begging thumb moving down to press on your swollen clit, circling the bud until your back is lifting off the mattress. He has a direct pull on your body, tugging your orgasm out of you. 

“I want it- please I want your baby,” you're almost in tears before the tidal wave crashes over you, your whole body tensing up before collapsing into bliss. Felix's hot cum spurts out in thick streams coating your walls and pushing out with each continuous stroke of his cock inside you. He slows just enough to let you keep squeezing him, his hands sliding up your thighs to keep them in place around him. 

Leaning down to pepper you with kisses he inadvertently pushes into you deeper, your whimper so sweet neck to his ear,“we can stay like this for a while before we go another round,” 

“A-another?” 

He drags his hips, grinding down against your sensitive clit, “I want to make sure I fill you enough to have that baby,” 

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire @chasingthatjjunie @possum-playground @ch4nn13luv want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[bizarrelovetriangel]

starstruck.

coming home drunk and showering xavier with kisses

short fluff <3 inspired by this lol

Xavier wondered what you were doing. He's at home, observing his fitness watch app when he noticed that your heart rate has been picking up. It's nothing alarming, but it makes him curious about what you could possibly be up to at this time of night.

He got his answer two hours later when Tara knocked on his door with your arms wrapped around her shoulders, giggling uncontrollably about something.

"Thank god you're here." Tara passes your swaying body over to Xavier, who then steadied you by putting one hand on your waist and another on the small of your back. "She kind of drank a little too much, so..... good luck and good night!"

"Huh?"

Soom after Tara vanished, Xavier felt his cheeks being squished by two cold hands. "Ooohh, no way! You look just like this guy that I like!"

"...oh no."

During the last ten minutes, Xavier has been trying to get you to drink water.

"I'm not drinking that love potion!"

You keep running away from him and occasionally bumping against his furnitures and the walls of his apartment.

You were giggling while looking over your shoulder, trying to see how far he is from you when suddenly, you bumped into....Xavier.

"Wha- how did you - " You suddenly gripped his shirt. "Oh, Xavier! You're not gonna believe this! Someone who looks just like you wants to give me a love potion! I think he might be Lumie- ah!"

Xavier threw you over his shoulder and did his best to hold tightly as you wiggled dramatically to free yourself from him. "I just want to give you some water."

He set you down on the couch and got on one knee in front of you so that he could give you the glass of water.

You blinked and stared at him with wide eyes, pupils dilated and body petrified.

Xavier tilted his head. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" The moment his hand brushed against your cheek, you gasped and recoiled. "Hmm?"

"...pretty...."

/////////////

You woke up with the worst headache of your life. You're never drinking ever again.

You say that every time you get drunk, but you really mean it this time. It doesn't matter how good the drinks are - you can only have one drink from now on! No more!

"Ugh..."

You opened your eyes and recognized Xavier's bedroom. You're wearing your pajama shorts and one of Xavier's comfortable shirts that's enveloping you with his scent.

Xavier is still sleeping next to you, back facing you and face partly buried on his pillow.

You wanted to stay in bed for a little longer and cuddle with him, especially since he always looks extra soft in the mornings, but your dry mouth is forcing you to get up and hydrate yourself.

And so, you dragged yourself to the kitchen. Along with a pill that'll help with your hangover, you took a big gulp of refeshing cold water.

"Good morning." a tired voice greets you through a yawn. "How are you feeling?"

You turned around to face Xavier and immediately choked on your water.

"PFFFFTTTT - "

You coughed and spat out some water, putting a hand on your throat as you felt it burn slightly.

"Are you okay?!"

Xavier ran over to check on you, giving you a closer look at his body's....modifications. He's only wearing his pajama pants, so everything else is out on display.

"That's...."

Xavier realized you're gawking at him - specifically at the lipstick stains all over his face, neck, and chest.

The kiss marks are the same shade of red that you wore last night when you went out with Tara and Simone.

"Oh god..."

Your right hand reached for Xavier's face and your thumb started to wipe one kiss mark on his cheek.

You almost forgot about it, but now the faint memory of you peppering kisses all over Xavier is slowly coming back to you.

You just remembered him looking so dazzling and you were overcome with the urge to kiss him.... a lot, apparently.

"You could've at least wiped them off before falling asleep."

Xavier smiled and shook his head. "I don't mind them. You were having a lot of fun and it was helping you calm down. I'm glad I was able to help."

"Ugh. I'm never drinking again."

"That's what you said last time." Xavier laughs, nuzzling his face against the hand that was wiping him. "But it's okay. As long as I'm your only victim, I don't mind taking care of drunk you."