#I'm starting to think I need a beta reader...

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

pet and toy pet and toy pet and toy pet and toy

🤤🤤🤤

*chanting* pet and toy, pet and toy, pet and toy!

Pet and Toy [2]

Club!Blue Jones x Cecil Dennis x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals  Masterlist • ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • series masterlist •

Summary: Cecil shows you around the play rooms.

A/N: I'm sorry I can't stop turning oneshots into multiple parts. I have a problem. This part is mainly reader and Cecil.

Warnings: kissing, hand job, pegging, Cecil is just horny alllll the time, Cecil just talking about what he and Blue do, gonna say dubious consent because reader works in Blue's club, collars, some dub/sub dynamics, Cecil is referred to as 'pet', reader is referred to as 'toy', not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 3123

Cecil squeezes your hand, excitement practically radiating off of him. He’s a little giddy as he shows you around the ‘Play Room’. Rooms would be more accurate. 

They were upstairs, the club and Blue’s office below. Other than an entrance from a secret side room in Blue’s office, there didn’t seem to be any other way to reach them. 

The decoration was opulent, outlandish. But Cecil was seemingly so used to it that he didn’t bat an eye.

“It’s so nice to have someone else here,” he beams at you, “usually it’s just me waiting for Blue, and then he has to go off again and be busy.” He pulls a face, and you can help but smile. “I mean, what’s he got to do, really?” He shrugs. “He’s got other employees, he doesn’t need to be so completely obsessed with it, with working.” Cecil finally sighs and shakes his head, like he was trying to clear the thoughts from his head. “But, now you’re here.” He takes your other hand in his and links your fingers. 

“What do you usually… do?” You ask, your voice uncertain. “When Blue’s not here, I mean?” 

Cecil nods, “Eat, smoke… jerk off.” He grins sheepishly. “What about you, Blue said you’d only started here a few weeks ago?” 

You nod.

“So… what was it like?” 

You pause, not quite knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “It was…” 

“Did you have any clients?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

“I…” “When I first came here, I wanted to, you know, be one of the ���staff’.” 

You tilt your head to the side in a silent question. 

He giggles. “I was broke, worse than broke. Nowhere to go, and here you get somewhere to sleep and food and I don’t mind fucking or being fucked.” He shrugs again, like what he is saying is no big deal. “But Blue, I guess… he took a shine to me.” Cecil beams at you again, the expression almost blinding. 

“So, did you have any clients before?” He gives you an inquisitive expression, it’s honest. Open. And very unlike the attention you’re used to. 

You shake your head. “I hadn’t… yet.” 

Cecil nods. “Blue probably had his eye on you, too.” He smiles again and gives you an animated hug as he giggles. “I’m so happy. It’s so nice to not be alone, you know?” 

You nod, mirroring his action. 

“I kind of think about what would have happened if Blue hadn’t,” he gestures to the collar around his neck, “you know?” 

“Does it upset you?” You ask sympathetically. 

Cecil shakes his head, laughing. “No, no, part of me kind of likes the idea.” He covers his face with his hand, “I know that sounds fucking stupid.” 

You gently take his hand, moving it back so you can look at him. “It’s not stupid.” 

“No?” 

You shake your head. “You like what you like.” 

He grins. “See? I knew you’d understand Toy.” He kisses your cheek quickly and then breathes in deeply. “Can I kiss you?” 

You swallow and nod. 

His kiss is soft, slow. But you can feel the energy behind it, the current that is running just underneath his skin. He presses close, lightly rubbing his half hard cock against you and moaning quietly. The sound is almost a purr. 

He gulps, loud and echoing, as he pulls back a fraction, just enough to talk to you while his hands hold your hips tightly. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, a little breathless. “Can we…?”

You nod, that was what you were here for, wasn’t it? 

He grins and kisses you quickly, taking hold of your wrist, he pulls you to the sofa. Cecil sits eagerly while you’re still standing and grabs a half full bottle of lube from underneath the coffee table. 

“So if you jack me off,” he says so matter of factly while he shakes the bottle, “and then you can fuck me.” He smiles widely, then pauses. “Have you pegged someone before?”

You shake your head. 

There’s a flicker of something in his expression, and you can’t be sure if it’s disappointment or not. Anxiety twists and spikes in your stomach.

“But, I get the principle.” You say quickly. 

And Cecil misunderstands your apprehension as excitement. “Yay, okay, great. There’s a strap over here, erm…” he chews on his bottom lip as he gets onto his knees and bends over the side of the sofa, rummaging in a bag. You get a great view of his ass as he looks. 

“Here!” He holds it aloft in a giddy elation. “So fuck me with this after?” He blinks his large doe eyes at you, and once again, you nod. 

He gives you another brilliant smile and places the strap on the coffee table before settling onto the sofa and getting comfy. 

“Oh,” he tugs his jogging bottoms down to the middle of his thighs, lifting his hips up just enough to wiggle free. His cock bobs against his stomach, as hard and eager as you remember. He pauses as he looks at his t-shirt, the hem between his fingers. “Should I take this off too?” 

It’s oddly nice, you realise. The level of trust he’s putting in you immediately. Some of your nerves calm down a little, just taking the edge off. 

You sit next to him carefully, leaving a slither of space between your bodies that Cecil moves into immediately, pressing up as close to you as he can without sitting in your lap. He rests the side of his head on your shoulder, still holding his top. 

You take hold of the bottle of lube in one hand and the edge of his t-shirt with the other. “Here,” You say softly, “Why don’t you just…” You place his hand on his chest and encourage him to hold his t-shirt there so it’s pulled up and showing his soft tummy. 

He giggles, wiggling his legs a little and watching you with bright, eager eyes. “Okay.”

Lightly, you touch his stomach, trailing your fingers down over his warm skin. 

He shivers and chuckles lightly, “Tickles.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I kind of like it. I like how you touch me.” He presses his face to your neck, shyly. “It’s different.”

“Different?”

“Blue’s more… I don’t know. I like how he touches me, for sure, but I like how you touch me too.” 

You smile gently, part of you can see why Blue chose him. 

He whimpers lightly when you open the bottle and pour a copious amount onto your palm, warming and spreading it before you just trace the outline of his cock with the tip of your finger.

He moans, shivering and gulping. “Oh, fuck. Please, I’m so horny.” He blinks rapidly at you, giving you the most beseeching look. 

You gently wrap your fingers around him and pump slowly. 

He gasps, whining beautifully. “Fuck, that’s so nice.” He bucks his hips up, his body following the pleasure automatically. “So nice,” he swallows, his eyelids fluttering closed. “Fuck, so much better than my own hand, Toy.”

You stroke him a little faster, revelling in his cries and moans, how his muscles shiver and tense, how sensitive he is. He holds onto his top tightly, clutching it to his heart. 

“How often would you touch yourself,” you think twice about calling Cecil by his nickname, but the word ends up falling from your lips anyway, “Pet?”

He sobs out a groan, convulsiving. “Oh fuck, love it when you call me that.” He shivers, pressing his head back into the sofa and forcing his eyes open so he can look at you. “I, I’d, I do it a lot.” He gulps again, almost hiccuping. “I get so worked up so easily,” he licks his bottom lip, making it shiny with his saliva. “I need to do it a lot.”

You stroke him a little firmer and lightly rub the pad of your thumb along his slit. He gifts you with a gasp and shudder. 

“How often is a lot?” You ask, trying to keep your voice even and calm. 

“Lots, loads, I, uh, fuck,” he squirms, bucking up eagerly into your fist. The squelch of lube echoes around the room. As he moves his t-shirt rises a little higher, the material twisted in his hand, revealing more of his chest and one of his nipples. 

You don’t really think twice, too caught up in the sound he's making and his love sick expression. With your free hand, you reach out and squeeze his chest, lightly pinching his nipple and Cecil all but screams. 

He comes suddenly and violently, his eyes rolling back as he spurts all over himself and your fist. Copious amounts hit his chest and tummy, some even splashing over his t-shirt and hitting the underside of his neck. 

He moans loudly the whole way through, his hands squeezing any part of you he can reach, swearing and gasping your name. Your real name. 

You start to relax your grip on him the second he goes limp and weak, breathing hard. 

He whimpers slightly, quickly moving so that he can press his lips to yours. Hungrily, he licks into your mouth, his kisses becoming more and more demanding by the second. 

He groans as you lightly bite his lip, his eyes rolling back. 

“Fuck,” he swallows, his throat bobbing, “here,” he takes you hand and hastily wipes the cum from your skin with a clean part of his t-shirt. “Sorry I jizzed all over you.” 

You bite back a snort, his sincerity was strangely endearing. “It’s okay.”

He shakes his head, but doesn’t answer any more than a soft hum. 

His cock is still semi hard between his legs, his eyes still as dark. 

“Can you fuck me please?” He asks sweetly, an edge of desperation to his tone. But you get the clear feeling that he wouldn’t press, wouldn’t demand anything if you said no. 

Your nerves aren’t as fraught as before, they don’t slither and slice at your insides. Instead, there’s a low constant beat of arousal that is starting to very heavily cloud your mind. 

You nod and he groans.

“Fuck, thank you, thank you, I,” he scrambles up, nearly falling over and into the coffee table in the process. You grab his hips to stabilise him and he gives you the sweetest look as he pulls off his trousers completely, and then his shirt. 

“Thank you,” he repeats, rubbing his stomach and hands clean with his t-shirt. “Blue says I have a crazy refractory period and that I’m po-pet-u-at-lly horny.”

“Perpetually,” you say with a kind smile and he beams at you. 

“That’s it, that’s the word! You’re so smart.” His grin widens. He doesn’t give you a chance to refute his statement as he pulls you to your feet. 

Quickly, he moves so that he’s bent over the sofa, his hands on the cushions and the front of his thighs resting against the armrest. He spreads his legs a little wider. “You can keep your clothes on, or take them off, I don’t mind.” He smiles again. “Whatever you want. Also I don’t need any prep, that’s,” he nods his head to the strap on the table, “a totally a-okay size. I kind of like it when there’s a bit of a stretch, you know?” He keeps running his mouth, having to fill the silence as you pick up the strap. But it’s nice, comforting even. 

“Blue’s not like that.” Cecil continues. “He hates taking anything straight away, you have to work him open for hours. Not that I mind.” He looks over his shoulder at you as he speaks, his eyes lingering on your form as you take off your top. 

You decide to leave your bra and underwear on, folding your clothes roughly and putting them on the armchair at the side, before you put on the strap. It takes you a moment to work out the harness, but Cecil doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Sometimes he makes me suck his dick for hours, literally hours. And then I have to eat his ass for just as long.” Cecil swallows, his cock throbbing at the thought. “And then I finally get to put some fingers in him, but I got to suck him off, or lick his balls at the same time, or he makes me start all over again.” 

Cecil jumps slightly as your hand touches his hip, he shivers, widening his legs yet again and groaning when he hears you open the bottle of lube and pour a more than generous amount onto the strap. The dildo is a bright, vibrant yellow, and honestly, it wouldn’t have surprised you if it had a classic smiley face at the tip. 

“You can keep talking.” You say soothingly as you tightly rub his hip and he preens, arching his back a little. 

“You sure? I don’t mean to talk so much, I’m not letting you say anything.” 

“I like hearing you talk.” You stroke your hand down to his plump ass and gently spread him a little so that you can position the head of your strap at his entrance. 

Cecil gulps, closing his eyes.

“Are you sure you’re okay to take this all?”

He nods viciously. “Fuck yes.” He swallows again, not as loudly as before. “Please?” 

“Only if you keep talking.” You tease.

Cecil rocks back slightly, an involuntary reaction and you giggle quietly. 

“I’ll, I’ll keep talking,” he pants, “promise, I swear, just-”

You push your hips forward, pressing the tip of the strap against his hole and Cecil whines. 

“Oh fuck, thank you, thank you. You know how often I’d just sit on a dildo and jerk myself off? Or stick it to the shower wall? I nearly passed out once, I just kept going and going. Fuck,” he groans deeply as the strap breaches him, stretching his ring of muscle wide so satisfyingly. 

You ease into him slowly, despite how he’s regaled you with stories of how easily he takes things, you still don’t want to hurt him or cause him any discomfort. Pushing forward an inch before moving back half and then repeating. 

“Blue’s like the opposite of me,” he pants, trying his best to let you set the pace and not misbehave. “Blue’ll hold off for ages, like a whole day. My idea of torture.” His voice breaks at the end of the word as you bottom out. “Ah, that’s good, so good,” he bites his lip. 

“I, I need to come so much,” Cecil breathes heavily. “Like all the time, the smallest thing’ll set- set me off.” He moans as you press one hand to his lower back, making him bend even further, and the other firmly to his hip. 

You move slowly, giving him time to adjust before you gradually pick up your pace. 

The sounds he’s making are mouth watering, they make a weight settle deep in your belly, make you want to fuck him harder and just take whatever you give him. 

“Blue’ll sometimes let me fuck his ass,” Cecil moans, “But only sometimes, because normally, oh fuck, I come straight away. I can’t help it, I get inside him and it’s over. Most of the time I come while I'm sucking his cock or eating him out. He’ll, he’ll pull my hair and, and, and, I come.” 

He sobs as you pick up the pace, hammering your hips into him. Each thrust sends a wave of heat along your skin. You can feel wetness building between your legs and dampening your underwear. The base of the strap presses delisouly against your clit, rubbing just right whenever you fuck Cecil particaullary roughly. 

He whimpers loudly, suddenly tensing like he’s been struck by lightning. “Oh, fuck, Toy please, right there!” 

You focus all your energy on hitting him exactly the same, constantly fighting the urge to grab hold of his hair and pull him back to your chest so that you can sink your teeth into his neck. 

“Some-some-sometimes,” Cecil pants, utterly drunk on pleasure, but needing to please you, to keep talking like you asked. “Blue’ll let me continue to fuck him even though I’ve come, I love that, it’s my favourite. I get to work myself up and come again and make him come everywhere.” He groans, shivering, his balls drawing up. “I like it when he uses me to get off, makes me, makes me, makes me- oh fuck!”

He yells as he comes again, squeezing the strap so hard you almost can’t fuck him through it. He doesn’t make as much of a mess this time, but still a dribble of white leaks out of his cock and onto the uppostery. 

You grab hold of his chest as he slumps forward to stop him from falling face first and he whines softly, but appreciatively as he shivers with aftershocks. 

“Sorry, I came so fast, I…” he rests his head back against you, his hair warm and sweaty. “You’re really good at that.” He smiles. “Give me a moment and,” he manoeuvres himself, slipping the dildo out of his ass and turning to face you. “I could eat you out, if you want?” He gives you the sweetest look as he asks and you nod a little shyly. You’re about to speak when there’s a tut and you nearly jump out of your skin. 

Both of you turn to the sound at the other end of the room. Blue is standing there with his arms crossed, looking unimpressed. 

“What’s this Pet?” Blue shakes his head, teasing in his voice.

Cecil blinks hard. 

“Playing with Toy and not even making them come once?” He raises an eyebrow as he walks forward.

“I, I was going to.” Cecil huffs a little and you nod, wide eyed, trying to back him up. A sudden tension washes over you, making you want to shrink back and hide. 

Blue stands in front of both of you, regarding each of you with a hard inspective stare. He takes Cecil’s chin, turns his head left then right. 

“Look at this mess, Pet.” 

Cecil opens his mouth to speak but snaps his teeth shut when Blue gives him another look. 

“I’m sorry Blue.” You say softly, regretting speaking the second the words are out of your mouth. 

He takes your chin next, forcing your eyes to meet his. But his expression is much softer when he looks at you. “Making Toy feel that they have to apologise for you.” He tuts again and strokes your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “I think there’s some punishment in order.” 

You stiffen, but Cecil moans wantonly and nods. 

Thank you for reading!

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If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[susartwork]

Wait neither asgore nor toriel knew healing? I'm a little surprised they died to a simple shank. Whoever that guy was, fuck him. Azzy was to soft to let Chara get revenge. He's going to be even sadder if he remembers as flowey

Excellent question!

At first I wanted Toriel to try healing them, failing, but then I though "OH WAIT, what if Tori decided to learn healing magic BECAUSE she couldn't save her child?"

But even if she knew healing magic, it wouldn't have worked.

That shank hit Chara's chest, where their soul is, which is basically like a headshot in my AU. Plus they bled all the way up the Mount Ebott... (Asriel was holding up only to see their parents... before collapsing).

About that guy, we'll talk about him in Chapter 1 °cracks knuckles°

And yes! The whole plot will revolve around Flowey trying to "fix his mistake" and make it up to Chara. One way or another =)

But was it all his fault...? =(

[kittenw0lf]

I ! just finished the first draft of a fanfic for the first time!

It contains 3,2k words and is spirk whump if I understand the term correctly

It still needs some work before it can see the light of day, but it exists! I am very proud of myself!

[purecommemasolitude]

"i have too many wips and not enough endings to those wips," complains local writer starting new wip

[sarah-sandwich-writes]

HOLD ON WAIT UP HOLD THE PHONE

I KNOW I WAS GONE FOR A FEW MONTHS THERE BUT HAS BLUE LIKE DON'T FORGET ABOUT ME ALWAYS BEEN A PART OF A SERIES OR IS THAT A NEW DEVELOPMENT???

I FEEL LIKE ITS CHRISTMAS ALL OVER AGAIN FUCK Y E A H

Okay so

I...

have been cooking

by which I mean illusions of grandeur and

schemes

And I have not been forthcoming lol Everyone kind of disappeared all at the same time so I kind of stopped talking about what I'm doing but I have been biding my time, quietly putting mechanisms into motion and plotting and occasionally cackling over my cauldron.

I finished the first draft of Blue like don't forget about me and didn't like it so I cut out all the sci-fi fantasy stuff (bye bye aliens farewell superpowers) and in November wrote a new first draft that's all contemporary romance babeee and I'm so in love with it I'm turning it into a little 3-part (possibly 4 if I can't control myself) series.

The original childhood years have been split off into a prequel novella called Red like my bleeding heart in your hand. Then Blue like don't forget about me will take place 20 years later. Nash works at Cherished Hope Nursing Home

“And what is it you do? At the nursing home, I mean.” I wipe shit off of old people. And Teddy’s a hockey player. What’s Luke, an underwear model? He shouldn’t have come.

Teddy comes back to town for a funeral and

Teddy looks at him for the first time in twenty years and every ounce of warmth leaves his expression. Message received. He should not have come.

OKAY SO AND THEN the next book will be Jo's POV and is called Violet like these delights. and MAYBE there will be a 4th from Luke's POV bc he gets to live this time by the grace of god (me) but it'll depend on how Violet goes (its current state is mostly vibes and a single overarching theme so, stand by).

Red needs a clean-up round of edits to snip out the few little threads that connected it to OG blue. And rewritten blue is basically done. I've done the major revisions and am about to start line edits and after those are done I'm sending it out to beta readers (lmk if you're interested).

There are concise actual summaries in my pinned post btw lol

WHICH REMINDS ME

The series title is Wildflowers of Deliverance. Which I'm extremely proud of. Did you notice did you notice how each title incorporates a wildflower did you did you? and the town they grew up in where Nash and Teddy first met is called Deliverance!!! It's okay I know I'm a genius.

And this brings us to the meal okay? because like I said I've been Cooking™ quietly but steadily for a few months now. ANd what have I been cooking? PLOTS and PLANS

I've decided on a pen name: Sarah B. Elisa

I've created a(nother) side blog for it that will be exclusively centered on my og writing and geared more toward readers rather than writers like this blog is: @sarahbe-writing

I'm going to create a website (as soon as I convince myself to spend money)

and a newsletter (as soon as I convince myself to spend money and do work)

I'm still waffling between trad publishing and DIY. I really like all my hats and it would be a shame to have to share them but oh my god I don't want to do all the marketing but trad pub seems hit or miss on how well they market you so I might get half of my hats taken away and still have to do the marketing bullshit UGH

anyway

OH YEAH and the OG draft I wrote for Blue? I'm going to spin it back to its OG OG roots [parkner, naturally--Return of The childhood friends to estranged almost lovers to super-powered rivals to reluctant allies to friends to lovers finally wip!!! AKA: We Were Gods (we were kids)] and that will fix all the things that went wrong and I didn't like 😌 so it's basically like double Christmas I think

[dollracha]

𐙚 i want it ⋆  h.js  x reader

part one ⋆ part two

pairing: han jisung x inexperienced virgin! fem!reader genre: smut warnings: swearing ⋆ slight corruption kink ⋆ needy han ⋆ slight perv!han ⋆ sorta dubcon ⋆ reader is called “baby” (several times) & “my girl” (once) ⋆ spit kink ⋆ non penetrative sex ⋆ munch jisung ⋆ dialogue heavy wc: 707 synopsis: you both promised to take it slow, but jisung struggles to keep his word, and you certainly don't mind. author's note: been thinking about this for days this is so incredibly self indulgent its not funny. this is not beta read. this is barely proofread. i'm just a whore. the first 870 or so of yall saw a slightly different version than everyone else onward. i made some slight changes that needed to be reworked for clarity. and for those of you interested, part 2 is linked above!

© dollracha do not copy reupload or repost.

“fuck, ‘m sorry, baby.” jisung whines into your neck as he ruts his cock against your wet panties. he’s got one hand wrapped tightly around his cock, the other gripping your hip hard enough to bruise. you’ve both soaked your panties, his precum and the wetness from your pussy make it almost uncomfortably sticky.

“god, ‘m so fuckin’... gross.” he rambles, pulling himself up to spit on his cock. he watches it slide off the side of his tip and down your ass. “making a mess of your poor pussy just to get myself off.”

“hannie…” your moan has him rolling his eyes back. you can’t remember how you ended up beneath him, just that you didn’t want it to stop yet. It wasn’t enough. and yet you were trying to find it in you to tell him to slow down, it’s what you wanted after all. to take it slow, wait until ‘the right time’ for your first time with jisung. that went out the window the moment he started feeling you up today.

“i know… said i'd keep my pretty girl all pure for a little longer.”

but jisung’s cock throbs at the sight of you all defiled. your hair is a mess from when he shoved you down on the bed and had his hands all up in it when he kissed you earlier. your makeup is smudged, mascara messy from the way tears well up in your eyes and spill when his cockhead rubs against your clit just right. your lipstick blurs around your lips from the sloppy kisses you shared. he begged you not to wear a bra this morning when you got dressed, it made your tits even easier for him to access. all he had to do was pull down your little tank top and they were all his. your skirt is pushed up, soft tummy peeking out. and your pussy, so wet for him already and he’s still one layer away. 

“look at you… so nasty f’me.”

“can i take off your panties? please, baby?” jisung stops rutting against your clothed pussy and gives a couple hard taps against your clit. “know it’s dirty, baby. but it’ll feel good, okay?”

all you want at this point is to feel good–screw everything else–so you nod and lift your hips so he can slide your panties off your legs.

You try to shut your legs but jisung is quicker. both of his hands keep your thighs open. “let me see that pretty pussy, don’t hide it from me.” he’s quick to spit on it again, and this time you can’t help the high pitched moan that escapes your lips. 

“did your exes ever spit on it, baby?”

you shake your head, hands coming to cover your flushed face. nobody’s ever touched you like jisung has. you've kissed your exes, dry humped, even came from it too. but jisung's the only one who's touched you so intimately, and a part of him hopes it stays that way.

“like it?” he asks and you don’t respond. is it wrong to say you liked it? it’s gross, you think. it’s so so gross… but is it wrong?

warm saliva hits your pussy again, this time you can feel jisung’s breath on you. 

“do you like it when i spit on your pussy, baby?”

“... yes…” you respond, and finally pry your arms away from your face. jisung’s laying down on the bed, hands pressed against your thighs to keep them open. he can’t decide what's a sweeter sight, your glistening pussy or your wide eyes. for now, his eyes lock with yours.

“fuck…” jisung whispers. his eyes fall back to your pussy with a smile. he licks his lips and lets his head fall against the blankets.

“ji?” you reach for his hand, and as soon as he feels your hand on his he’s grasping it, and raising his head up to kiss your knuckles. 

“i know you wanna take it slow… but please, please can i eat you out, baby? ‘s all i want.”

jisung agreed to take it slow, but he's got you half dressed and soaking your bed. maybe you should be mad, but god, the pleasure jisung was giving you was addicting. you weren’t afraid to give yourself away to him at this point.

“i want it.” you nod, and jisung kisses your hand again.

“gotta give my girl what she wants then, yeah?”

© dollracha do not copy reupload or repost.

[burntheedges]

it's alright, darlin'

Joel Miller x f!reader | 4.1k | 18+ | masterlist | ao3

summary: so, getting trapped in an elevator with the hot contractor you've seen around the office was not on your to-do list for today... but maybe it's just what you needed.

a/n: this is my entry for @toomanystoriessolittletime's 47 minutes in heaven challenge! it was fun to write Joel again but now I feel like I'm fighting him off with a stick (it's Din's turn!!). thank you to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta!!

tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, stuck in an elevator, reader works in an office building (no specifics), reader has a panic attack and is afraid of elevators, reader says she's not good with small spaces and heights, breathing exercises, no outbreak or pre-outbreak?, you decide, pet name (darlin', gorgeous, honey), reader wears pants and is mentioned to wear a black dress, reader sits in Joel's lap, smut: kissing, grinding, fingering, some dirty talk

...

When the elevator doors closed with only you and him inside, you tensed.

When the whole thing shuddered and came to a stop, somewhere between floors 8 and 9, you knew you were fucked. 

…

You’d seen him for the first time a couple of weeks before — he was with the group that was renovating the offices on the other side of your floor. He’d been standing with his back to you, arms crossed, talking to another man and sometimes gesturing at a wall. It seemed like they disagreed about something. 

You’d noticed him immediately — broad shoulders, strong arms, hair you wanted to bury your fingers in. Slim hips with a tool belt slung across them. Then he’d turned around and, well. 

He was gorgeous. Tan skin, warm brown eyes, even under his furrowed brow (they really were arguing about something). A scruffy beard. He was so much your type, so attractive, that you almost walked into the open door to the break room. 

He didn’t see you, thank god, but the other guy did. When you looked back up after catching yourself before you face planted, he was grinning at you. He winked at you over the gorgeous man’s shoulder. You felt your entire body turn hot and you ran. 

And that had only been the beginning. 

…

You were in a hurry, searching through your bag for your ID to swipe into the building, barely looking where you were going, when you bumped into him for the second time.

Literally bumped into him.

You weren’t sure exactly what happened, but you went from walking forwards to almost falling without even noticing anything in between. Suddenly you were sideways, on your way down, and the only thing holding you up was two big strong hands, firmly supporting your elbows. 

You reached out to steady yourself and as you looked up, you realized it was him. The absurdly hot contractor who was working on your floor. 

And your hands were flat against his chest while his held you in place. 

He started to smile and you felt your face start to burn.

“Shit,” you said, wincing. “Sorry, did I just walk into you?”

He was really smiling, then. “No, that’s alright. I think we just happened to walk into each other.” His voice was warm and deep and his accent made you shiver. 

You squinted at him, pretty sure he was full of shit. “If you say so. Um, thank you, for–” You looked down and saw that he was definitely holding you up. You stood straighter. “For catching me, I guess.”

“Oh, anytime, darlin’. My pleasure,” he said, lightly squeezing your arms and then releasing them. You realized your hands were still on his chest and dropped them like they’d been burned. 

You might have actually talked to him, then, but your coworker had called your name from behind you and you’d taken the out, scurrying away like an embarrassed rat.

(You didn’t look back, or you would have seen him watching you go.)

…

The third time, you were in your office, focused on a spreadsheet. You had your legs folded underneath you in a way that you knew looked ridiculous in your desk chair, and you were hunched forward, squinting at the screen. You were going to find that error, damnit. 

And that’s when he’d cleared his throat.

Startled, you’d tried to jump out of your seat, but instead only gotten more tangled in it. Your foot flew through the loop of the arm and you found yourself straddling the arm rest somehow. 

You looked up to see the hot contractor trying not to smile. Of course.

“Um,” you said, trying to find a graceful way to disentangle yourself from an inanimate piece of office furniture. “What… did you need something?”

He smiled, then, and you blinked, taken aback again by how handsome he was. “I just wanted to apologize in advance, we’re going to make a bit of noise across the way for about the next 45 minutes.” He stepped forward and lifted his hands and you realized he was going to try to help you. “Do you need—“

“Oh,” you interrupted, finally surreptitiously standing and fishing your leg out of your chair. “That’s alright, I’ve got headphones. But thanks!” You hopped slightly to the side and finally found yourself standing with both feet on the ground. You did not make a face. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem,” he said, still smiling. “Sorry again, for startling you.”

“It’s fine!” You tried to smile your way through it. “I’ll just–”

He nodded, and ducked out.

You sighed. Again?

…

By the time you found yourself trapped in the elevator with him, you were pretty sure you were destined to make a fool of yourself every time he so much as glanced at you.

On top of that, you were afraid of elevators.

When the car shuddered and came to a halt, you froze. You felt your heart begin to race like the worst kind of panic attack was just around the corner. You blinked, dazed, and then realized the lights were flickering.

“No, no, no,” you murmured, turning to look at the buttons. “No, please,” you said, stepping forwards and pressing the call button. 

Nothing happened.

You could feel it, then, the oncoming panic attack, and this was not the time, you tried to tell yourself.

“Hey,” a soft voice interrupted. You whirled around, startled. You’d forgotten he was there. “You alright?”

He stepped towards you and you didn’t know what your face was doing, but clearly it wasn’t good, because he stopped. 

“Hey,” he said again, voice deeper, more soothing. “We’re ok.” Not a question this time. “S’probably just to do with the construction we’re doin’. I’ll call my brother – he’s my business partner, you’ve probably seen him around. I’ll call him and make sure. Ok?”

You nodded, and you felt yourself start to shake. You backed up until you hit the wall and slid down until you could curl yourself into a ball, arms wrapped around your knees, head ducked. You could hear him having a short conversation but tried to focus on your breathing. 

In-2-3-4

Out-2-3-4

In-2-3-4

Out-2–

“Hey,” there were shoes in your line of sight. You raised your head and found him squatting about a foot away from you. “S’just a power issue. They’ll have it back on line in about 45 minutes, alright?” 

You blinked. “45–” you tried to repeat, but your voice came out like a gasp for air.

He frowned and reached forward hesitantly. You nodded, and he rested his hand on your elbow. “We’re not in any danger, alright? Brakes have got us. We’ll just sit tight until they fix it and then we’ll get out.”

He was right, you knew he was, but that didn’t stop your heart from racing or your short, uneven breaths.

“I–” you tried, but it didn’t come out. 

“Hey,” and that time it was even deeper, soothing. He scooted forward and sat next to you. “Look at me, darlin’. Give me your hand.” 

You did, and it was limp, and shaking. He frowned but placed your hand firmly on his chest. For a wild moment you wondered if you were going to reenact your second meeting.

“Breathe with me,” he said. “I’ll count.”

For the next few minutes, you did. He breathed in, and you breathed in. He breathed out, and you breathed out. You were looking into each other’s eyes the whole time, and without you really noticing, your breath evened out. 

“There you go,” he said and smiled. 

You nodded, noticing you’d stopped shaking. “Thank you. I’m not… small spaces. And heights. It’s the worst of both.”

He nodded. “I’m Joel, by the way. Realized I never introduced myself.”

You did the same and noticed he was still holding your hand against his chest. He seemed to realize it at the same time and squeezed your hand gently before releasing it. 

“Do you know how much longer?” You weren’t sure how long you’d been following his breathing.

Joel checked his watch. “Probably about 30, 35 minutes. Tommy said they were already working on it when I called.”

“You said he’s your brother?” You wrapped your arms around the knee closest to him, hugging it to you. 

He nodded and scooted a bit closer. He reached for one of your hands as he spoke. “And business partner. Miller Contracting.” He winked at you as he held your hand gently in both of his, palm up. He dug his thumbs into your palm, softly at first and then harder. A hand massage? It was instantly soothing, somehow, and you took an easier breath. “I do this for my daughter. She has panic attacks sometimes.” He started to work your wrist into gentle stretches as you glanced up at him. 

“Daughter?” you asked, wondering if there was a wife, too.

Joel nodded and smiled. “Sarah. S’just me and her, so we’ve figured out a few tricks.”

You smiled back. “Sounds like you’re a good dad.”

He ducked his head. “Try to be.” He reached for your other hand and you gave it easily, turning towards him. He was sitting cross-legged and somehow you ended up with your left knee nudging his legs, almost in his lap. Your breath caught but neither of you moved to put more space between you.

He started to massage your other hand and for a moment you just watched as his large, strong hands so carefully caressed yours.

Then the elevator trembled.

It shook, just slightly, and made a noise that you hoped wasn’t the brakes straining. Before you even knew what was happening you’d thrown yourself forward in terror, diving into Joel’s shoulder. Your breaths were coming hard and fast again and you struggled to find any air. Without missing a beat his arms came up to catch you and he pulled you forward into his lap.

You found yourself with your knees on either side of his hips and his arms firm around you, holding you in place. He slid one large hand up your back and pushed you gently forward until your chest rested against his.

You could immediately feel the difference in your breathing – his was slow and steady while yours was too quick, too shallow, almost hyperventilating.

Joel tucked your face into his neck and murmured in your ear, “it’s alright, darlin’. Breathe with me.” He started to breathe in and you felt his chest move. You tried to match your breath to his, but for a few moments you could only struggle against your own body. He started to hum, something low and soothing, and it pulled your attention from your anxiety and the elevator to Joel. You focused on the sound of his voice and the feeling of his arms around you, of his body under yours. 

Soon you sank deeper into him as your breaths started to even out. It wasn’t quite another full-fledged panic attack but it was close. 

“There you go,” he murmured, tightening his arm around you and cupping the back of your neck.

It hit you, then, that you were straddling this man who you’d just met. You squeaked and started to pull away. His arm held you in place. “Oh, shit, Joel, I’m so sorry–”

“Hey,” he said, interrupting you. You lifted your head and met his eyes. You saw nothing but softness and warmth. “No need for any o’that.” He smirked. “Besides. Might be that I like havin’ you here.”

Your eyes widened. You realized your hands were tucked in front of you on his chest and you slowly slid them up and around the back of his neck. You smiled. “Yeah?”

“Might have caught you lookin’ at me a couple times.” His thumb started to caress the side of your neck, moving up and down gently, and you shivered. “Might have been looking back.”

You bit your lip and felt your heart start racing when his eyes dropped to look at your mouth. “You sure you weren’t just looking at me because I kept making a fool of myself?”

Joel laughed, and you grinned. “Darlin’, I just wish I could have ended up with my hands on you to help you out of that chair, like when I caught you downstairs.” He winked and you realized his hand, which had been wrapped around your back, had slid down to grip your hip. He squeezed. 

You winced, but reached down to catch his hand when he started to move it away. You put it back on your hip. “Not that. Just, ugh, that was so embarrassing.” You squirmed slightly in his lap and he sucked in a sharp breath, squeezing your hip again. “I still don’t know how I did that.”

He smiled at you and slipped his thumb under the hem of your shirt. “I don’t know how you pretzeled yourself into that chair to begin with, darlin’.” You laughed. “It was charming.”

You raised an eyebrow at him skeptically. “I charmed you by sticking my leg through the arm of my desk chair?”

He laughed again and you watched the way it changed his face. “You did. I was charmed. Wanted to walk over and help you out of it. I’d already made up an excuse to come and talk to you, you know.”

“Oh yeah?” You scooted just a bit closer on his lap and he encouraged you, tugging your hip forward. 

“Mmhmm,” he murmured, and tugged lightly with the hand that was still cupping the back of your neck. You leaned forward. “Tommy’s been teasin’ me, saying my mind is already over in office 1502, might as well walk over there and join it.”

You were suddenly so close your nose brushed his. “Joel,” you breathed, and he grinned. 

“Can I help you darlin’?” His voice was low and slow and your breath hitched. “Let me distract you, hmm? Take your mind off it.” You met his eyes. You realized your mouth had fallen open slightly. His gaze was dark and intent. “Can I kiss you? Got no idea how much I’ve been wantin’ to.”

His eyes dropped to your mouth and all you could manage was, “please.”

Before the word was fully past your lips, he was there to swallow it down.

His lips pressed against yours gently, at first, and then with fervor. You shivered at the softness of his lips and sank happily into the feeling of his mouth against yours.

He used his grip on your neck to tilt your head to the side. He opened his mouth and you moaned, just slightly. 

Joel groaned and tugged you forward, as close as you could get.

As his tongue caressed yours, you thrust your hips down, and you moaned again when you felt your effect on him against the seam of your pants. He was hard, so hard – so hard it made your head spin.

“Joel,” you whined when he broke away to press his mouth to your jaw. 

He smiled against your cheek. “Darlin,” he said, voice deep and rough. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but.” He took a breath. “Can I make you come? Please?”

You sucked in a sharp breath, mind spinning. You didn’t want to think about the fact that you were in an elevator at work, but you couldn’t help it. Distantly, you wondered how much time you had left. 

Joel interrupted your worry by nipping at your neck. You sighed and drove your hips down into his. He held you there with his grip on your hip.

“Please?” he repeated, pressing a line of kisses down your neck. “Been thinkin’ about it. Wonderin’ how gorgeous you are when you come, when you’re already so gorgeous all the time, anyway.”

You were moving, hips rocking back and forth, before you could stop yourself. You nodded, but he used his grip on your neck to tilt your face towards his. You blinked your eyes open, wondering when you’d closed them.

“Let me hear you say it, gorgeous.” The hand on your hip started creeping under your shirt.

Your eyes locked onto his and you threw caution to the wind. There was nothing but you and him. “Yes, Joel,” you said, voice breathy. “Make me come.”

He growled and pulled you back into a fierce kiss. His hand moved from under your shirt to the waistband of your pants, which he unbuttoned smoothly. 

Your hips stuttered forward into his, and he smirked against your mouth. “Do you want it bad, darlin’?”

“Joel,” you murmured, a complaint, and he kissed you again. 

“No shame in it, darlin’,” he said, brushing his fingers lightly over your underwear, where you knew he could feel how wet you were. “Got no idea how bad I want to touch you.” He pressed down with his fingertips and ran them up the length of your underwear slowly. “Couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

You kissed him again. “About me?”

He smiled and started to push your underwear to the side. You gasped. “You got any idea how nice your ass looks in these pants?” You laughed, surprised. “And don’t get me started on when you’re sitting at your desk, leaning forward, biting your lip and frowning at your computer.” He stroked your neck again with his thumb, his hand still gripping you there firmly. “Never been so turned on in an office, darlin’. Never been so turned on at work.”

Joel slipped his fingers inside your underwear, finally, and brushed his fingers over your pussy. “Bet you’re gorgeous down here, too.”

You sighed and bucked your hips towards his fingers. “Joel,” you said, and this time his name sounded like a plea. He smiled against your mouth. 

“What is it, darlin’?” His smug tone made you want to bite him. So you did, pulling his bottom lip into your mouth. He groaned and slipped his fingers between your folds, sliding easily in the evidence of your arousal. “Fuck, you’re so wet, aren’t you?”

You twisted your hips and nodded. “You know, I was only concentrating so hard because some hot contractor kept taking up all of my attention.” You grinned at him when he looked at you. “It’s pretty hard to focus when you’re here, walking around looking like that.”

Joel chuckled as his fingers came to rest against your clit. You felt the shiver travel up your back like lightning up your spine. “Looking like that? What’s that mean?”

His fingers started to circle your clit and you squirmed in his lap. His grip tightened on the back of your neck. “Like… that. With those shoulders, and arms, and those hands, Joel. Not to mention your very handsome face.” You pressed a few quick kisses to his cheeks and jaw. “I saw you frowning at Tommy, and that was hot enough,” you said, voice catching as you ground down against his hand. “And then you smiled at me, when you caught me.” 

“Darlin’, I have a confession.” Joel moved his thumb to your clit and crept lower with two of his fingers, collecting your arousal as he went. “Tommy told me about the door,” he said, “but only ‘cause I’d done the same thing, the day before.”

You blinked, and looked up from where you’d been staring down at his hand in your pants. “You what?”

Joel nudged your nose with his, smiling. “I almost walked into the wall over by the bathrooms, first time I saw you. You stepped off the elevator in that black dress and I swear my soul left my body.” His fingers circle your entrance as his thumb worked over your clit and you gasped. “Been trying to figure out how to ask you out ever since.”

One of his fingers slipped inside you and you threw your head back. Joel began to mouth at your neck and you realized you were breathing faster, in and out. “You should have,” you breathed. 

His finger was thick, and the realization made you shiver when you wondered what his cock would be like. Judging by what you’d felt in his lap, it was big.

He started to work it in and out, slowly opening you up. Before you could whine for more he slipped a second finger inside to join it. The feeling of his fingers stretching you, thrusting in and out, and then this thumb on your clit, his grip on your neck – it was making your head spin. 

“Darlin’,” he murmured, and pulled your face back close to his. He kissed you one, twice, in time with the thrusts of his thick fingers. “Can I take you out? On a date?”

You nodded. “Yes, please,” you breathed.

Joel grinned. “Good. Tonight?” He thrust his fingers inside you again and curled them forwards. 

You whined. “Yes.”

Joel drew you back into a deep, fierce kiss and you buried your hands in his hair. He was working his fingers perfectly and you felt your orgasm building at the base of your spine. 

“And maybe I can take you home after,” he murmured against your mouth, “and put my mouth on you, make you come again.” You thrust your hips forward and nodded, overwhelmed. “Would you like that, gorgeous? Let me lick you, get you all wet?”

“Yes, Joel.” Your mind was spinning, full of the images he was giving you. 

“And then I’ll give you my cock. Is that what you want?”

You let out a sound you’d never heard yourself make before. 

“Don’t worry, honey, it’s what I want, too. Been wantin’ it.” He smiled against your lips. “I can feel you gettin’ close, darlin’.” He twisted his fingers again and you moaned. “Come on, now. Come for me. Let me see it.”

He circled your clit just right with his thumb and you felt yourself teeter on the edge of it, like an ocean below you waiting for you to fall. 

“C’mon, gorgeous,” he said, kissing you swiftly. He quirked his fingers and circled his thumb and you fell off the edge. “Come.” 

You did, and it washed over you like a wave, drowning everything else out as you gave in to the feeling of his fingers and his mouth on your neck. You were pretty sure you said his name, but your entire world had narrowed to the places where he was touching you.

“...fuck,” he was saying, when you came back to yourself, breathing hard. “Fuckin’ hell, that was gorgeous. I knew it. So fucking pretty when you come.”

You couldn’t help yourself and thrust down against his cock, which was straining against his jeans. 

“Joel,” you moaned, and finally met his eyes again. They were dark and his face was intent, watching you. The look you found there made you wonder if you were about to have the best sex of your life in a broken elevator.

And then his phone rang.

“Shit,” he muttered, releasing your neck to dig in his pocket for his phone. You realized as he did that his fingers were still inside you and that he hadn’t moved them. “What,” he said into the phone, voice flat.

His eyebrows lifted as he listened, and he glanced at you. “Fifteen minutes?” he asked, and twisted his fingers inside of you. He smirked when you squirmed. “Alright, we’ll be ready.” He ended the call and dropped his phone on the carpeted floor of the elevator next to your knee. “Think I can make you come again in that time, darlin’?

You smiled. “Only if you let me touch you, too, Joel.”

He tilted his head, studying you with a smirk that made you squeeze his fingers. “Well–” he started to say, but suddenly the elevator shook and started to move again. 

Startled, Joel slipped his fingers out of you and you both scrambled to stand. You almost fell over again when you noticed he stuck them in his mouth, closing his eyes briefly as he cleaned them off. He blinked and looked at you. “Remember what I said, darlin’.”

You nodded, too stunned to speak. You both took a moment to fix your clothes and by the time the elevator reached the 15th floor, you assumed you were more or less presentable, even if your breathing was still a bit fast and you could feel the evidence of what you’d done in your underwear. 

Joel’s cock was still hard in his jeans, too. You tried not to stare at it. 

Just before the elevator opened, he leaned into you and placed his hand on your lower back. “Pick you up at 7?” he asked, voice low. 

You looked at him and smiled. “It’s a date.”

...

a/n: a date!

[butyoudidthis4what]

No Man's Land

Jack Abbot x f!Reader

5.1k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || C.W.: mentions of blood, mentions of guns and shootings, mentions of death/dying/coding, CPR, anxiety about partner's safety, Jack's traumatized, reader's traumatized, mentions of dissociation and compartmentalization, poor description of medical events, potentially incorrect medical descriptions/knowledge, very very light smut, angst, age gap kind of implied with Jack but not explicitly referenced, no use of y/n or related, not proofread, no beta, I think that's all but if I missed any please (nicely) let me know.

Summary: This is my Pitt-Fest-But-Not fic. Development of your relationship through vignettes of the past and conversations between Jack, Dana and Robby. There's a shooting where you work. Jack is at the ED when the dispatch comes in and is terrified when he can't get in touch with you.

A.N.: If my Robby reads like John Carter I'm sorry, except that a little bit I'm not. I feel like I'm struggling with my Jack characterization but can't tell if that's just me hating everything I do. This is my take on one of my fave tropes where reader is in mortal danger. I needed a physical location that could be associated with reader and settled on a courthouse, but what it is reader does there is not described. Probably (definitely?) needs a part two. If you get the nickname, thank you, I feel seen. If you don't I explain it at the end. This is absolutely something I would call him, in part to fuck with people who know his real name. I would love to know if you enjoyed and to hear any thoughts you'd like to share.

“He has a girlfriend,” Robby smirks at Dana. 

She blinks at him. “I’m sorry, I thought we were talking about Jack Abbot.”

“Oh we fucking are.” Robby stifles his smirk and forces his lips to remain closed and as neutral as possible. 

“You’re shitting me.” Dana’s incredulous look breaks Robby a bit and he starts to laugh, tries to turn it into a cough when both he and Dana look up to find Jack staring at them as he takes his snow dusted beanie off. He gives Robby a ‘really?’ look even though he knew Robby would rat him out to Dana the second Robby had dragged it out of him. 

Dana looks back at Robby. “Who? How did they meet?”

Robby holds up his hands. “You now officially know as much as I do about her.” Dana makes a noise of vague discontent but knows Jack well enough to know Robby is telling the truth. That’s all that’s been revealed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s not worth it,” you whisper. Jack blinks and looks around, unsure if you’re talking to him. He has no idea who you are, has never seen you before in his life but it appears that you are in fact whispering to him in the middle of this bookstore. 

He raises his eyebrows. “It’s not?”

You shake your head, give him an almost conspiratorial smile. “No, he must have gotten a new ghost writer. It’s really bad in comparison to his other stuff. Save your time and money. I’ll give you a summary right now for free if you’re that curious.”

Jack smiles to himself a little bit as he sets the book back on the shelf. There’s something about you, your smile, the way you just randomly spoke to him. He’s drawn to you. An alarm goes off in some part of his brain telling him to ignore it, ignore you, he could get hurt. He pretends to weigh his options as he turns to face you fully. “How about for a cup of coffee?”

Your brows furrow in confusion for a moment. There’s simply no way this unfairly attractive man is asking to buy you a cup of coffee. “The summary?” You clarify. “That I’d give for free. You want it to cost a cup of coffee instead?” You let out a nervous laugh and some part of his heart aches because you’re so adorable. “I just want to make sure I understand before I potentially make an even bigger fool of myself.” 

“Yep.” He can’t help but laugh a little. “You give me the summary over coffee. Actually, you know what? You’re going to have to give me a recommendation too because now I’m going to have nothing to read.” He clicks his tongue at you. 

“Well,” you laugh out, all breathy as you try to pull yourself together. “You drive a hard bargain but I think I’m willing to accept those terms…” you glance at his name badge, “Dr. Abbot.” You give him a full smile and Jack knows then and there he’s totally fucked in the best of ways. 

“Jack.” He smiles at you as you both begin walking towards the café. “Call me Jack.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything quiet enough after handoff, Robby walks out with Jack into the morning sun that does little to warm the breeze pulling leaves off the trees. “Any chance you can cover a shift on Thursday night?” Robby is asking, yes, but he knows it’s not really a question, Jack is always willing to work.

“Can’t.” Jack says simply, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry.” There’s an expectant silence that hangs between the two as they keep walking.

“Care to elaborate?” Robby finally asks.

“No.” Jack turns and smirks at him. “It’s none of your and Dana’s business.”

“Ha!” Robby laughs. “So it’s her, it’s about her! The ever elusive girlfriend. Will we ever get to meet her? Or does she not want to meet us? Is she real?” Jack stops walking and gives Robby one of his looks. “Holy shit, is it someone here?”

Jack snorts at that. “No it’s not someone here. She’s not even in the medical field.” He sighs, half longing and half resignation of some kind. “She’s honestly dying to meet you guys, especially you and Dana, but I’m trying to protect her from this hellhole. It’s hard with schedules too, to find a time.”

“That’s such fucking bullshit,” Robby laughs. “Are you afraid to truly commit? Think bringing her here will make it too real?” 

It’s a valid question but one that Jack nevertheless resents. “No, actually, if you must fucking know Thursday is our one year anniversary. We have plans. So you’ll have to find someone else to cover. But I’ll bring her around soon,” he laughs through his nose to himself at your stubbornness, “if I don’t she’s liable to just show up one of-”

“A year?” Robby laughs, incredulous. “A fucking year? How the hell did you hide it for three months before I dragged it out of you?”

Jack ignores him. “Also, I’m moving to days. It’s better for us.” He’s so nonchalant about it, just states it like he’s saying the sky is blue, like it’s not going to make Robby’s eyes widen and mouth drop open like it does.

“I don’t,” Robby huffs a laugh, “I don’t even know where to fucking begin.”

“Then don’t.” Jack smirks, starts to walk again while Robby stays frozen, running a hand through his hair. “Go do some actual work.”

“I thought you found comfort in the darkness?” Robby yells after him. 

Jack slows and turns around but keeps walking backwards, one hand holding the strap of his backpack to keep it over his shoulder. He glances down at his phone and the photo of you that is now his wallpaper. He smiles to himself a little, yells back. “Guess I find it somewhere else now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You giggle, honest to god giggle and Jack could lose his damn mind as he nibbles at your collarbone. “You know if my anatomy class had been this fun, I might have become a doctor too.” 

You’re laying on your back in bed as Jack kisses your sweat slicked skin all over as you both come down from your last round. He’s taken to 'teaching you anatomy' like this, identifying different parts of the human body with his mouth.

“Hmm,” Jack hums against you. “I’m glad it wasn’t then. Fuck doctors.” He starts to kiss down your chest. 

“That has become quite the favorite pastime of mine, yes,” you smirk. “Fucking one specific doctor, actually.” 

“Getting fucked by one specific doctor more like it,” he murmurs into your sternum. He kisses laterally, lips hitting your breast and moving towards your nipple. 

“I think we’ve established what those are,” you moan softly as he takes your nipple into his mouth. You let your hands run through his salt and pepper curls that you adore so much. 

“Can never be too thorough.” You giggle at him again and can feel him smile against you. “But fine, you want something new?” You nod, let your nails scratch gently at his scalp. 

“Nipple,” he kisses your nipple and then down your torso to right above your belly button, “to navel is no man’s land.” He continues to lavish kisses on the soft skin of your stomach before looking up at you when you don’t respond. 

“I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me or not.” You eye him with mock suspicion. 

He laughs and it’s your favorite sound in the whole world, you swear. Well maybe second, only behind hearing him tell you that he loves you. 

“I’m not. Nipple to navel is no man’s land. It’s a real thing. It’s one of the worst places to get shot or stabbed because there’s so many organs that could be hit and the place we’d expect to get hit would depend on whether the person was breathing in or out at the time, whether their lungs were inflated or deflated. And we generally have no way of knowing. It can be difficult to get clear imaging.” He starts kissing lower, down below your belly button, rubbing his stubble along your skin to tease you as he gets lower and lower. “It’s never a good time. Lots of poor outcomes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s supposed to be his day off and yet Jack finds himself staring at the board and running a hand over his face. “It’s still so fucking weird seeing you here during the day and it not meaning something catastrophic has happened.” 

Jack turns to look at Dana. “I’ve been working days for a month now and it’s my day off.”

“You can go, we’re fine for now,” Robby nods at Jack. “Thanks for the brief assistance brother.”

“No, no,” Dana interjects, “he’s not allowed to leave until we nail down a time to meet his girl.” 

Robby raises his eyebrows and starts to tilt his head and open his mouth to agree with Dana. A dispatch comes through before anyone can say anything else and Dana grabs it, pinning Jack down with her eyes, daring him to leave before discussing meeting you. 

“Saved by the bell,” Jack huffs, taking his stethoscope off and starting to walk away. 

“Shooting at a courthouse,” Dana relays to Robby, “not a mass cas, just a few people, two a little iffy, one they’re already doing CPR on, a few caught in the race to get out. Two dead on the scene.”

It takes a few seconds for Dana’s words to truly register with Jack, but when they do his hearing fades to only a sharp ringing in his ear. This wasn’t happening. He’d been so reticent at the beginning of your relationship, waited so long to give in and define it and hand his heart over to you, terrified he’d lose you because of himself and who he was, his imperfections, his past, his trauma, his PTSD, his baggage, as he thought of it. He feels so stupid now, in the moment, not having worried about how he could lose you from a random act of violence, that in the moments he can’t be there to protect you somebody could come in and rip you from him. Just like that. With the pull of a trigger. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know, I can confidently say this is the most unique date I’ve ever been on,” you tease Jack. 

“Hey,” he pants, “me teaching you CPR is a great date.” 

“It would be better if you took your shirt off,” you whisper and wink at him before letting your eyes linger on his arm. 

“If I did that you’d be so distracted you’d learn nothing,” he smirks at you, sweat glistening on his skin just a little. Just enough to drive you nearly feral for him. 

 “I think I’ve got the compressions part down, but I may need more help learning the mouth to mouth part.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You fucking love it,” you shoot back at him, leaning into his space and bumping him with your shoulder. 

He can’t help but kiss you. “Yes,” the word is muffled against your lips, “yes I do.” He gives you a firmer kiss this time before he pulls away. “But really. You should know how to do it, just in case. It will help you feel in control in the moment if the need for it ever arises. You’ll know what to do.”

You bite your lip and smile at him. 

“What?” He eyes you with suspicion. 

You shrug. “Nothing, I just love you so much. Sometimes it overwhelms me, how much I love you.”

He can see it in your eyes, how much you love him, can almost feel it physically squeezing him like a tight hug. He’s really not sure what he ever did to deserve you or your love. “I love you too, Doll.”

“I love you more, Peter.” Your face pulls up into that usual self-satisfied and silly grin you get sometimes when you call him that nickname. It’s a recent thing. You’re calling him it more and more though, it’s becoming a natural way of referring to him. From anyone else he would hate it, hearing it between another couple would make him roll his eyes. But from you? He loves it more than you’ll ever truly know. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack spins around.

“Jack you can still go, we’ve got it covered.” Robby looks at Jack for a minute and then meets Dana’s eyes as she looks to him after taking her own look at Jack. 

“What courthouse?” Jack asks. It’s quiet, controlled and clipped and almost missable in the chaos of the ED. He’s not looking at either of them, staring past them at a wall with a chest heaving more and more by the second as his face grows paler. 

He tries to keep it together. Dana will say the name and it won’t be your courthouse and he’ll go straight to your actual courthouse, grab you, take you home and never let you leave. A perfectly reasonable reaction, he thinks.

“Jack-”

“What fucking courthouse?” It’s louder this time, almost enough to pause the chaos of the ED. 

Jack’s voice drips with what sounds like rage to most of those who hear him but is unmistakably fear to Dana and Robby. 

Neither of them have ever seen Jack like this, this scared, struggling this hard to keep it together, truly raising his voice for anything other than to quiet down an unruly patient. His eyes find Dana’s and they’re glassier than she’s ever seen them, the intensity of his gaze making it painfully clear he’s hanging on every word and the wrong ones will shatter him. 

She swallows and opens her mouth and Jack knows what she’s about to say before she even says it. And she does. The name of your courthouse. 

“I’ll triage.” He says it before Dana has even finished, the words hollow and breathless and commanding all at once. He spins and starts off to the bay doors with nothing more. He obviously knows from the report Dana gave that they won’t need triage. He just needed to get out of there and try to create an excuse to stay in the ambulance bay. He knows Robby won’t let him, that Robby and Dana already know you’re at that courthouse, could be a victim. 

Robby and Dana share another look, So you work at a courthouse. This courthouse. “Fuck,” Dana mutters, “I really hope we don’t end up meeting her today.”

Jack’s hand dives in his pocket as he strides to the ambulance bay. He already knows in his heart that there’s not going to be a text from you saying that you’re okay. He hasn’t felt his phone buzz. He never even kept his phone on him until you. 

Even though he knew he wouldn’t have any messages, waking his phone and seeing none hits him like a freight train all the same, right in the chest. It threatens to bring him to his knees, make him sick, but he can’t. He sets it all aside. If you do come out of one of the ambulances he can hear in the distance you’re going to need him at his best. But what if you’re one of the two people dead at the scene? He has to shove that out of his mind too, can’t give into the complete panic that threatens to consume him. 

Disassociate. Compartmentalize. Do the job. ABC. Assess. Stabilize. Repeat.

His fingers fly across his phone automatically, calling you having become so routine. He prefers it so much to texting, hearing your voice, communicating more directly. “Call me,” he starts, “the second you get this message. Or fucking text me,” his voice breaks, “please. Fucking please.” He hangs up and calls again, knowing he’ll get your voicemail again but trying anyway because it’s all he can do. 

He’s helpless, powerless, he can’t do anything to try and save you and that threatens to swallow him whole. 

Your voicemail recording telling people to leave a message plays again and all Jack can wonder is if this is all he’ll have left of your voice in his life. Your voice on your mailbox, maybe some voicemails you’ve left him, videos, voice memos you’ve sent. All distorted by recording, not your real voice. He can’t remember what your real voice sounds like all of the sudden. What your laugh sounds like, how you sound when you’re sleepy or in the throes of pleasure or telling him you love him. God, did he even tell you he loved you the last time he saw you, when he said goodbye? 

“I need you to call me,” he says into the phone again, pauses. “I love you.” He takes a ragged breath in and speaks through his teeth. “I love you so fucking much, so you have to be okay and you have to fucking call me.”

He sends a series of texts asking you to call him or text him or call the hospital or do anything to let him know you’re okay, asking if you are okay, asking where you are as though you’re going to respond. He already knows you’re in the back of one of those ambulances because of fucking course you are, because he’s not allowed to have anything good in his life apparently. How could he be so stupid to think differently?  

“Hey, we don’t need triage for this. The numbers are controlled.” Robby walks out to stand next to Jack in the ambulance bay. “If you want to stay you can, but you can’t wait out here to see who shows up, you have to-”

“Yeah, yeah, jump on the first patient that pulls up, I know, I got it,” he interrupts Robby. 

There’s a silence as Robby passes him a gown and ties for him before he does the same for Robby. 

“Jack, if she’s in one you cannot-”

“Like fuck I can’t.” It’s just a statement. Cool and collected and a projection of indifference. It scares Robby more than if Jack had yelled. 

“No, actually brother, you can’t. I’m telling you right now. You’re not working on her. We don’t work on family, on significant others, and you would tell me the exact same thing. It’s too risky, you’ll be too clouded.” Robby watches Jack’s jaw clench and roll as he stares out at the street. 

He wants to argue that of course he’ll be clear, he’ll be focusing on saving you, he’ll have never been so clear in his life. But part of him knows that seeing you like that on his trauma table, your blood all over the table and him and his hands might make him freeze.

“Fine.” Jack whispers. “But if she’s,” Jack has to pause and take a shuddery breath. “If she’s gone or really going and it’s inevitable you have to let me in. You have to let me try to save her. You have to let me code her, Michael.”

He can taste the rising bile in his throat just at having to talk about coding you.

The first ambulance pulls up before Robby can respond and Jack’s on it so fast Robby’s surprised Jack doesn’t get smacked in the face by the door opening. 

It’s not you. It’s someone who is very much not you and is clearly one of the iffy ones. 

Disassociate. Compartmentalize. Do the job. ABC. Assess. Stabilize. Repeat.

Jack forces himself to go emotionally numb as he listens to the paramedic rattle off vitals and history, trying so very hard to focus on this, something he can do, even if it’s not for you. By the time they hit trauma one Jack’s fine and in full swing, running it like he would any other trauma. Nobody on the team in the room with him suspects anything is amiss.  

He hates the way he can’t see the other’s who come in, that he has to stay with this patient until they’re stable and can’t go looking for you. He chastises himself for not having brought you here before or at least having you meet Dana and Robby. They don’t even know what you look like, couldn’t identify you.

“Jack!” He glances at Dana who stands at the door as he preps for the chest tube. “What’s her name?”

He yells your name at her, impassive and stoic as he reaches for the scalpel, ignoring the looks everyone throws each other at the slightest tremor in his voice.

“I’ll look for her.” Dana promises. He doesn’t respond. He can’t. He’ll fall apart. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The restaurant you’re at has to be the fanciest place you’ve ever been to. It’s the hottest place in the city and you have no idea how Jack snagged reservations here for dinner to finish out celebrating your one year anniversary. 

The lighting and low hum of other patrons talking to each other and glasses and silverware and plates tinkling is cinematic. You feel like the main character. But then that’s always how Jack makes you feel. 

“I got you something.” He pulls out a wrapped rectangular object. 

You click your tongue and tsk at him. “We said we’d do them at home! I didn’t bring yours!”

“I know. I have something for you at home too.” His eyes sparkle in the flickering candle light, a little smirk pulling up. “I didn’t mean for it to be a double entendre, but both are true.” You snort a laugh at him and take the gift from him. “Open it.” He’s still smiling, eyes still sparkling,  but there’s something there. He’s nervous. It makes you even more curious. 

You carefully unwrap the object until it reveals itself as a hardcover book. That same one Jack had in his hand a year ago and that you told him was bad and gave him a summary of over coffee. 

“Oh, Jack,” you say softly, eyes getting a little watery. It’s so perfect. So sweet and sentimental. The book that brought you together, that gave you each other. It’s almost like a physical representation of the foundation of your relationship in a way. 

“You have to open it,” he instructs you in a whisper.

You raise an eyebrow but do as he says. 

‘Move in with me?’ is written on the blank first page. 

You look between the page and Jack. “Is this?” You look back at the page and then up at him again. “Are you really asking…?”

He nods. “Move in with me. Or move somewhere with me, we can get our own place, it doesn’t have to be my apartment. We basically live together anyway at this point. Let’s just make it official, yeah? Wherever you want, you can decorate however you want. Just as long as it’s our place.”

You bring a hand to your mouth for a second before using your napkin to dab at the inner corners of your eyes to stop the tears from falling and look back at him. 

“You’re a romantic, Jack Abbot,” you hum all dreamily. 

“You better not tell anyone. Can’t have you ruining my street cred.” He smirks, but his expression and the way he fidgets show he’s still anxious. “So?”

You realize then you never actually answered him. Sniffling a little laugh and letting a few tears fall you give him his answer, voice thick and full of emotion. “Yeah, I think I’m willing to accept those terms. I’d love to move in with you… Peter.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He hears you counting to yourself before he sees you. “One, two…”

It’s not loud, just said in a normal voice, softer if anything because of how you’re panting, but Jack is so on edge and so desperate to find you he’d subconsciously been listening closely to his surroundings, military training kicking in. His head snaps to you and he doesn’t even know what to think when he sees you being rolled in on top of a gurney, performing CPR that would rival the quality of his own. 

“Why is she..?” He hears Robby question the paramedic as you roll in. 

“She was performing them just as well as we could and it was better to just scoop and run,” the paramedic explains. “She must have had one hell of an instructor.”

“Peter!” You yell, without looking up, not sure if he’s still here. You’re so used to it by now that the nickname is just what comes out of your mouth as you look for him. He’d texted you to let you know he was going in for a bit.  

Jack could sob and the entire team in the room with him can feel a crushing tension shatter. Maybe he does get a little teary just from the sheer relief. He tells himself it’s sweat in his eyes.

“Yeah Doll?” He yells back, not giving a fuck about everyone hearing him call you Doll, and you calling him Peter, knowing full well he’s going to have so much explaining to do about this entire situation, the confusion in the room palpable. 

“I’m okay!” This time he does laugh to himself. 

“Yeah I’d say so,” he mutters, smiling. He’s still anxious to see you, get his own eyes on you, feel you with his own hands. 

It’s only about thirty more seconds before his patient is stable enough and he can rip his gloves and gown off and start putting fresh gloves on as he walks into the trauma room you’d been wheeled into. Normally he’d yell out for someone to talk to him or ask what they’ve got but not this time. This time he doesn’t even care about who’s on the table, only the person who came off it. Only you. 

You’re standing to the side now, watching Robby and the rest of the team work, impassive as pink tears stream down your face from the dried blood on it. You’re just so fucking overwhelmed by everything and now that you’re not doing CPR everything that’s happened is hitting you at once. 

Jack says your name as he moves to you, needs his hands on you. 

“Are you hurt? Were you hit?” He rushes out. His voice brings you back and you look up at him with wide, terrified eyes. He goes to look you over but you latch onto him, hugging him tightly, shaking a bit. 

“I’m fine, I’m okay, I’m, I’m sorry,” you start to rattle off, fisting at his scrub top and clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. In the moment he might just be. 

He hugs you back just as hard, kisses the top of your head. He doesn’t care who sees right now, all he cares about is you. “It’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m just so fucking glad you’re okay. I thought… I thought you were…” He doesn’t have to finish, you know what he means. “I can’t fucking lose you. I love you way the fuck too much.”

You’ve been so wrapped up in each other neither of you have noticed that Robby’s patient, the one you were doing CPR on, has started to code again. “Abbot, need you here!”

You let him go, nod at him. “Go on,” you whisper, “I’ll be right here. I’m okay. I love you more.” Jack nods at you and walks over, jumping in and assisting Robby.

It’s once you’re out of Jack’s arms, away from his warm body and more grounded in reality that you notice how cold you are, how you’re swaying because he was supporting you far more than you realized, how lightheaded you are, how your abdomen and chest really fucking hurt. You chalk it up to the adrenaline wearing off and being sore from the chest compressions you just did. 

On the other side of the room an instrument tray gets knocked over, metal hitting the floor in a loud clang. It startles you, makes you jump and twist quickly to see what it was, if it was another gun, another shot. You feel something almost tearing, a sharp pain across your abdomen and lower chest, a feeling of sticky warmth against your shirt.

You sway a little, start to realize how much worse the pain is now. It’s bad enough that you can’t even make noise to express the pain. There’s no air in your lungs, you swear. You realize your lightheadedness is now much, much worse, that you’re shivering from how cold you are. Or are you just shaking? You can’t tell. It doesn’t make sense. The room isn’t even that cold. You shouldn’t be so cold. Not unless.

You pull your shirt up slowly and look down and run your hand over your skin and sure enough, there’s a bullet hole seeping blood, about half way between your nipple line and belly button, skin now covered in a dark bruise. 

You cough a little, it’s quiet. It starts feeling like there’s water in your lungs. Like you can’t get any oxygen in even though you’re in a room full of it. The metallic taste in your mouth is what manages to seep into what’s left of your consciousness next. You cough again, into your hand, and feel something wet hit your skin. Blood. 

It hits you. You’re drowning in your own blood. That’s why it feels like you can’t breathe. You’ve been shot. In a bad place, one of the worst places, Jack had told you that night. You get scared, feel your heart pounding. It feels like you’re dying. You don’t want to die, don’t want to leave Jack. You’d just finished moving into your new place together, were going to spend all weekend unpacking and painting and getting furniture where you wanted it. You were going to make your home.

Time. You were supposed to have more time together.

“Hey, Jack,” you slur softly, struggling to keep yourself standing. Luckily he hears you. Your use of his first name and the slur to your voice has him panicking again already. Time slows as he turns around to take you in, eyes going from your face and the blood coating your teeth and trickling from your mouth as you try and smile reassuringly at him, down to your torso where you’re still holding your shirt up just enough for him and everyone else in the room to see the bullet hole and bruising marring your skin. “I think, I think I’m not good, it’s not good.” Your vision tunnels so fast you can just barely see Jack’s expression of sheer abject unadulterated horror and panic as you get out your last words. “Nipples to navel… no man’s land.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter. Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter. Yes, I worked in a bookstore through college.

Part Two is up!

[reilemon]

Return To You

♡︎ synopsis: You rely on Sylus to keep you warm on a winter getaway.

♡︎pairing: Sylus x fem!reader

♡︎ tags: fluff, oral (female receiving), love making (for a change)

♡︎ word count: 6.1k

♡︎ a/n: some cute holiday fluff for @hesperisms 💕✨

♡︎ Not beta read, but I'm still giving a shoutout to my dearest friend and my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎.

divider by @anitalenia

The town square looks like a winter wonderland straight out of a postcard. Fairy lights shimmer like little stars from every tree, their warm glow reflected on the thin snowy blanket and salt-covered cobblestones. The air carries the sweet scent of roasted chestnuts, caramel apples, and spiced mulled wine – the aromas making your mouth water with every step as you lead, or better yet, drag Sylus towards the ice rink. You’d been eyeing the rink all night, and now, with only a handful of skaters, it’s the perfect time to venture out.

You turn to Sylus who is dressed impeccably, as always, his coat tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders. You can’t help but smile at his rosy cheeks and nose, the color from the winter air making him look less intimidating. Though, he still stands out in this festive setting.

"You’ve been indulging me all day," you say, leaning closer to him, pulling his focus back to you. "I think it’s time to try something fun together."

He raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking in a small, amused smirk. "And your idea of fun is strapping blades to our feet and risking broken bones?"

You laugh. "C’mon, it’s almost empty!" You nod towards the skate rental stand. “Let’s go and get our skates!”

"Our?" he repeats. "I’m more than happy to watch you make a spectacle of yourself while I stay safely on solid ground."

You pout, crossing your arms over your winter coat. "That’s not fair. I’m not good at this, and I need someone strong to keep me upright."

Sylus doesn’t say anything for a moment, his gaze shifting back to the ice rink, then to you, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Don’t tell me you’ve never ice-skated before," you tease, a grin tugging at your lips.

"I didn’t say that," he replies smoothly. "I’m simply saying I prefer to observe."

"That’s just a fancy way of saying you’re bad at it," you counter and playfully nudge his side with your elbow. "Please, Sylus? It’ll be fun. I promise not to let go of your hand."

His mouth opens as if to argue, but your wide-eyed, pleading look stops him. He exhales slowly, a puff of mist curling in the air between you, and shakes his head with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

"Fine," he mutters. "But if I fall, you’re to blame."

You beam at him, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the skate rental stand. "Deal! But I’m warning you now—I’m terrible at this, so we might both fall."

As the cheerful attendant hands over your skates, you glance up at Sylus.

"Thank you," you whisper, squeezing his hand.

"Don’t thank me yet," he replies, as he looks at the skates. "Let’s see if we survive this first."

As you step onto the rink, Sylus’ grip on your hand tightens, the grip of his gloved hand firm and his presence reassuring against the slippery unpredictability of the ice. He steps further, leading you slowly with him. His fitness and natural grace give him an edge, but you can tell by the slight furrow in his brow that he’s carefully adjusting to the sensation of skating.

"You need to keep your knees slightly bent," Sylus instructs as he glances down at you wobbling by his side.

You giggle nervously, your free hand flailing slightly for balance. "Easier said than done! This is harder than I remember."

He watches you with a mixture of amusement and focus as you take a cautious step forward. "Relax. Lean forward slightly— I know you can do it."

Following his instructions, you do as you’re told, feeling a little more stable as you start to glide, although slowly. Sylus moves alongside you, his strides smooth and confident now, his hand never letting go of yours.

"You’re a natural," you tease, grinning up at him.

"Hardly," he replies with a small smirk. "But at least one of us needs to stay upright."

The sound of your laughter fills the crisp air as you grow bolder, gliding a little faster, though your feet still wobble occasionally. Sylus keeps up with you effortlessly, his focus shifting between your movements and the icy terrain ahead. At one point, as you make a sharper turn, your skate catches slightly, making you stumble. Before you can hit the ice, Sylus’ arm wraps securely around your waist, pulling you close.

"Careful, kitten." he murmurs, as he steadies you.

You laugh, your cheeks flushed from the cold and him. "Thank you. You’re like my personal safety net."

Sylus’ lips twitch in a faint smile, but he says nothing, his hand lingering on your waist for a moment longer before he releases you. Feeling emboldened after a few minutes of smooth gliding, you try to add a little twist, lifting your arms and attempting a small spin. The move immediately throws you off balance, and before you can topple over, Sylus catches you again, his grip firm but careful.

"No spins," he says firmly, leaving no room for negotiation.

"But—"

"You’re going to hurt yourself," he interrupts. Even though he is serious, you can see that he’s amused by your confidence in your skills.

You pout playfully. "Fine. But only if you promise we’ll come back for more ice-skating dates until I can spin."

Sylus sighs, the mist leaving his lips with the faint smile. "Fine. We’ll come back. But only if you promise not to try anything reckless again."

"Deal," you say brightly, grabbing his hand again as you continue gliding across the ice.

Though Sylus was reluctant at first, he finds that skating isn’t so bad as he watches you enjoy yourself. The cold air bites at your cheeks, your laughter echoing in the winter night, and for a brief moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you on the shimmering ice.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

After leaving the ice rink, a little flushed and breathless, Sylus leads you through the bustling rows of stalls. He buys you your favorite candy, while he picks out some odd, colorful confections for himself—strange mix of flavors that you wouldn’t have dared to try, but he seems intrigued.

As you stroll further, your eyes catch on a vibrant display of oversized plushies at a game stall. A particularly cute dragon plushie catches your attention, its soft fabric shimmering slightly under the lights. You figure that this is a good time to regain some dignity you lost on the ice. You step up to the booth, pay the attendant, and pick up the air rifle. The attendant’s jaw practically drops as you shoot all the targets effortlessly, and Sylus’ admiration shines evident as he watches you from the side.

“Is there any space left in your apartment for more toys?” he remarks as you hug the plushie to your chest.

You shrug with a self-satisfied smile. “If not, I’ll just bring some to you.”

He chuckles, slipping his hand into yours as you continue walking through the festive town, the dragon plushie tucked snugly under your arm.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

Back at the cozy lodge, you push the door open, greeted by the warmth and the comforting scent of cedar and cinnamon. Sylus steps in behind you, his arms carrying bags of candies, trinkets, and wrapped gifts you’d picked out for your friends back home. You set your dragon plushie on the couch, fluffing its wings a little before turning to help him organize everything.  He puts down a bottle of on the kitchen counter and you find the small bundle of herbs you’d picked out. After setting everything down, you feel the weight of the day in your limbs. Your arms and thighs ache from all the skating and carrying bags, but it’s almost a satisfying buzz in your muscles.

Sylus turns to you, tilting his head slightly. “You’re slowing down,” he says.

“I’m not slowing down,” you protest, but a yawn betrays you. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“Come on,” he says, motioning toward the hallway. “Let’s clean up. The bathtub’s big enough to fit both of us.”

You glance at him, but he’s already on his way to the bathroom, so you follow behind, almost giddy at the thought of a relaxing bath.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

He adjusts the temperature in the shower while you start to light candles around the room. Steam begins to fill the air, carrying the faint scent of the bath salts you placed by the tub. Stripping down, you step into the shower together. The warm spray cascades over your skin, washing away the remnants of the day’s adventures.

Once clean, you both step out and towel off. Sylus moves to the bathtub, sprinkling the bath salts into the hot water, the scent rising as he swirls the water with his hand, testing the temperature.

“Perfect,” he murmurs and takes your hand in his, helping you step into the tub first.

A relieved sigh leaves your lips as the hot water envelops you, the salts already working their magic on your tired muscles. Sylus follows, settling in across from you his broad shoulders just visible above the water’s shimmering surface. His silver hair clings to his forehead in damp strands, and his gaze is softened by the dim light as he takes in the sight of you.

You let out a long sigh, your eyes fluttering closed as you lean your head back against the bath pillow. “Well,” you mumble, “goodnight.”

A low, amused chuckle rumbles from his chest. Without a word, his leg nudges yours under the water, his foot brushing lightly against your calf, making your eyes flick open and look at him in mock annoyance.

“You can’t fall asleep here,” he says with a grin tugging at his lips.

You grin back, letting your toes nudge his shin in retaliation. “I wouldn’t. There’s hardly any room for my legs anyway, with yours taking up all the space.”

Sylus shifts slightly, the movement causing ripples across the water’s surface, as he lifts a hand and gestures toward you.

"Come here." he says, his voice low.

Your heart skips a beat at the invitation, but you don’t hesitate. Shifting forward, you move carefully through the water, as you settle in the space between his legs. He reaches up, his hands brushing lightly against your shoulders, and the weight of them is reassuring, grounding.

“Would you like a massage?” he asks, his breath warm against your damp neck.

“Yes, please,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

His hands begin to move, firm but gentle at the same time, starting at the curve of your shoulders. His thumbs press into the tense muscles there, working out knots you didn’t realize were still lingering from the day. A sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it. His hands slide down, from your shoulders to your arms, taking a moment to squeeze gently at the tension in your biceps before moves on the muscles of your upper back. Every touch melts away the strain of the evening. The water sways gently around you both, the soft ripples lapping against your skin.

“You’re easy to please,” he murmurs, a faint smile audible in his tone.

“Not true,” you counter, though the words lack conviction “Okay, maybe a little true.”

“You’re good at this,” you admit, your voice drowsy from the combination of his touch and the heat of the bath. His hands move to the back of your neck, his thumbs pressing into just the right spot to make you exhale deeply.

“I know. I have good hands.” he replies with amusement in his tone.

You laugh softly, letting your head rest against his chest for a moment as his hands finish their slow journey over your back, neck, and arms. Then, his hands slide around you, wrapping gently across your middle. You let out a soft, contented sigh as you fully lean back against him. Sylus rests his chin against the top of your head as he adjusts to hold you more snugly, his breath tickling the crown of your head. For a moment, neither of you speaks. Your eyes flutter closed, and you know that his are likely closed too, the tension you sensed in him earlier replaced by a rare ease.

You shift slightly, turning your cheek to rest against his chest, and the subtle vibration of his breath hums beneath your skin. You rest your hands on his forearms, your thumbs to kneading gently into his muscles. He hums in approval, the low sound vibrating against you.

Sylus’ hands start to move, his palms gliding over your stomach, as they settle on the curve of your waist, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive dip of your sides. Your breath catches as his hands venture lower, skimming over your thighs. His fingers linger there, kneading the muscle with firm, expert precision, but your legs remain closed. A soft moan escapes your lips, and you feel Sylus’ breath against your neck as he leans forward. His lips press against the curve where your shoulder meets your neck, planting slow, languid kisses that send tingling warmth through you.

“Relax,” he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper. His hands shifting upward now, his fingers grazing just beneath the swell of your breasts, his touch featherlight, drawing another gasp from you.

Your heartbeat quickens as his hands finally move higher, cupping your breasts. His palms glide over the soft, wet skin, his thumbs circling your nipples in a way that makes you arch slightly against him, pressing into his chest. The combination of his teasing touch and the sensation of his lips against your neck leaves you utterly lost in the moment.

His lips trail higher, brushing against your jawline, before the warmth of Sylus' hands leaves your skin. His palms slide gently from your breasts before wrapping around your middle. He presses a kiss to your temple. "The water’s getting cold," he murmurs, his embrace tightening for just a moment.

You sigh, reluctant to leave the comfort of the tub and his embrace. "You’re right." you reply, your voice tinged with disappointment.  

Sylus is the first to step out of the tub, water dripping down his toned physique as he offers you a hand. His grip is firm, steadying you as you rise, goosebumps spreading all over your wet skin. Your gaze unintentionally drops—and there it is. Your cheeks burn, and Sylus catches your look, a teasing smirk curling at his lips. “We’ll handle that later.” he says smoothly.

You bite your lip as you avert your gaze, heart fluttering as you grab a towel. After you dry off and pull on your bathrobe, the plush fabric warm against your skin, an idea pops into your head. Still slightly damp, you practically skip to your luggage bag.

Sylus watches you with a raised brow, leaning casually against the doorframe as he ties his robe around his waist. “What are you up to now?”

“Wait and see!” you say, as you unzip the bag and pull out the matching pajama set you’d hidden there—a playful, festive pattern of candy canes and gingerbread men. It smells faintly of your fabric softener, the scent wafting up as you hold it out to him.

Sylus takes the set from your hands, his eyes narrowing as he inspects the goofy design. He exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Of course, you’d pick something like this,”

“You’re wearing it,” you say firmly with a giddy smile.

With a mock sigh of resignation, Sylus slips into the pajamas, the soft fabric snug against his frame. You bite your lip to stifle a laugh, but he catches the gleam in your eyes.

“Laugh it up,” he says. "I’ll remember this.”

You grin unabashedly, slipping into your matching set before leading him out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen, eager to make mulled wine. Sylus opens the wine bottle while you gather the spices and a small pot. The two of you move seamlessly, your bodies brushing now and then as you prepare. The smell of cinnamon, cloves, and citrus soon fills the air, mixing with the aroma of red wine. As the wine simmers gently on the stove, Sylus excuses himself briefly, heading toward the living room. Moments later, the faint sound of a match striking is followed by the soft crackle of the fireplace. The warm scent of wood begins to fill the air, mingling with the spicy aroma of the mulled wine bubbling in the kitchen.

When he returns to the stove, you leave the kitchen to him and go around the other rooms, gathering every pillow and blanket you could find. Then you go to the living room where you arrange them into a cozy nest on the plush rug, settling everything just right by the fire. Satisfied with your work, you sit down and wrap yourself in one of the soft blankets, snuggling into it as you hold a well-loved box of Travel Size Kitty Cards in your hands.

When Sylus steps into the room carrying two steaming mugs of mulled wine, his lips quirk into an amused smile as he takes in the sight of you, warm and snug, holding the deck of cards. “Do you really want to spend the evening losing to me at this?”

“Losing?” You pout, shuffling the cards with more determination now. “You think you’re so good at this game, don’t you? Luck doesn’t count as skill.”

Sylus arches a brow. “Luck is a skill when you know how to use it.” He says as he sits across from you.

You roll your eyes, finishing the shuffle and placing the deck between you. “Alright, three rounds. I’ll win at least two, and when I do—” you lean forward with a cocky grin— “we’re buying matching reindeer onesies tomorrow.”

He shakes his head. “Reindeer onesies? That’s your wager?” He pauses, feigning deep contemplation, then leans closer. “Fine. But if I win, you’re wearing the gift I got you for the rest of the night.”

Your cheeks immediately heat at his words, your mind conjuring up images of delicate lace. You try to play it cool, though your blush betrays you, and you can’t quite meet his gaze. “Oh,” you murmur, “alright. Deal.”

His eyes catch every flicker of your expression. “You seem eager for me to win.”

You sigh, grabbing the deck of cards and start setting up the game. “Don’t get cocky, Sylus.” But as you focus on your hand, you find yourself secretly rooting for him, curious to see what he has picked out for you.

“Let’s see, then,” he murmurs, his voice rich with confidence as he picks up his cards. “Try to keep up.”

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

Sylus shakes his head as he gathers the cards, sliding them back into the little box, his smug grin never leaving his face.

"First round victory got you cocky," he teases. "And that, kitten, was your undoing."

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms. "The wine clouded my judgment," you huff, your tone a mix of irritation and playful defiance.

Sylus chuckles as he sets the box aside. "We both know that’s not true," he replies. "You’ve had, what? One mug? Hardly enough to make you lose focus. So, really… it’s just you."

His grin widens as he leans back on one hand, utterly at ease while you sit there pouting. The firelight catches in his eyes, and the smugness radiating off him is maddening.

You feel your cheeks flush—not just from the fire or the wine. He’s right; you’re not drunk. The wine has only left you feeling perfectly warm, relaxed and a little tingly. And, unfortunately, that buzz has also heightened your awareness of him—the way he’s watching you, the faint curve of his lips both infuriating and unbearably attractive. You grumble something unintelligible, sinking further into your blanket cocoon, but Sylus, with his insufferable smirk, isn’t about to let you escape the moment unscathed.

He rises gracefully from the rug and he strides toward the bedroom. You watch him go, the wine’s gentle buzz amplifying your anticipation.

What could it be?

Your first thought is lingerie—something delicate and lacy, designed to make you blush the moment you open it. A dress, perhaps? you wonder. But then you dismiss the idea with a shake of your head; Sylus has already gifted you a breathtaking dress for the holiday banquet earlier this season. Maybe it’s a ridiculous onesie, you think. A cat? A sheep? Something he’d insist you wear just to tease you mercilessly the entire night. The mental image makes your cheeks flush, not entirely from embarrassment—because, honestly, you’d probably wear it, just to see that rare, carefree laugh of his.

Before your thoughts spiral further, Sylus returns, with a small box in his hands. Your breath catches. The unmistakable blue hue and the satin white bow make your eyes widen. He settles down across from you, and holds the box out. His smiles softly. "One of the gifts I brought for you," he says. "I thought it fitting for the trip."

Your heart flutters as you accept the gift. You gently tug at the bow, setting aside the satin ribbon, and your fingers tremble slightly as you lift the lid of the box. Your smile stretches wide the moment you see the necklace nestled inside the box, a heart-shaped pendant glimmering in the room’s dim light. Joy bubbles up in your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you lunge forward, wrapping Sylus in a tight hug.

"Thank you," you murmur against his shoulder.

His arms hold you firmly for a brief moment before you pull back just enough to plant a smooch on his lips, quick and filled with gratitude. He smiles against your lips, his hand brushing over your back before you settle back into your spot to admire the necklace again. You lift the chain, examining every detail of the stunning craftmanship. But as your eyes adjust to the dim light, you notice something different. Your brow furrows, and you tilt the pendant closer.

The usual engraving isn’t there.

Instead, in elegant script, you read: Please return to Onychinus N109 Zone.

Your heart flutters, the customization turning an already beautiful gift into something deeply personal.

Sylus notices your pause and leans forward slightly, his voice low and warm. "It felt more fitting this way."

You glance up at him, and all you can do is nod.

"Let me," he says softly, reaching for the necklace. You hand it to him, and he moves closer, draping the chain around your neck. His fingers brush against your skin as he fastens it, sending a small shiver down your spine. He leans back to admire his work, his eyes gleaming as they move from the pendant to your face.

"It suits you," he says.

"Thank you," you say again, your fingers brushing over the pendant, feeling its cool surface against your skin.

Sylus’ lips curl into a playful smirk as his gaze dips briefly to your outfit. "But those pajamas don’t really go with it."

You roll your eyes at the comment, but as you replay his words, you stop. Your eyes narrow in mock accusation. "Wait…"

Wear my gift for the rest of the night.

Your face heats, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coiling in your stomach as you glance down at the necklace. You’re acutely aware of his presence, of the way his eyes haven’t left yours.

"I—" you start, but the words catch in your throat as he shifts closer to you.

Sylus’ hands move slowly to the hem of your pajama top, his fingertips delicately brushing against the fabric, his eyes locked on your face, waiting for your permission. Wordlessly, you lift your arms, and his lips quirk in a soft smile. He takes his time pulling the top over your head, the cool air of the room kissing your skin as it becomes bare. A shiver runs through you, goosebumps rising along your arms and chest as your pajama top is discarded.

"I’m going to be cold the rest of the night now," you pout, half-joking.

Sylus leans forward, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. When he pulls back, he whispers against your lips. "I’ll make sure you stay warm."

His words send a jolt of heat straight to your core as he guides you down, his weight pressing you into the soft blanket beneath. Your legs part instinctively, inviting him closer. Sylus hovers over you, his lips finding yours in a slow, intoxicating kiss. The faint taste of wine clings to him, rich and heady, as his tongue teases yours. Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling him deeper, needing him closer. He growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your mouth as he rolls his hips, grinding his hardness against your craving heat.

The sudden pressure against your clothed pussy makes you gasp into his mouth, your body arching into him as you feel the hard length of him straining against the fabric of his pajamas. Sylus pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his red eyes dark with hunger, his lips slick and swollen from the kiss. The firelight flickers over his sharp features, making him look devastatingly irresistible. His hips roll against yours again, grinding just right, pulling a desperate gasp from your lips as heat pools deep in your core.

He leans in, his breath tickling your skin before he drags his lips slowly along your pulse, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses that make your body arch into him. His tongue flicks over your skin, tasting you, the scrape of his teeth making you shiver beneath him.

He shifts slightly, his mouth traveling lower, trailing kisses down to your chest. A soft moan escapes your lips when his lips capture the peak of one breast. His tongue swirls around your nipple, teasing before he takes it into his mouth, sucking gently. At the same time, his fingers find your other breast, kneading it with care, his thumb circling the sensitive bud, the attention making you arch into his touch.

"Sylus," you whisper, his name tumbling from your lips as your fingers tangle in his hair again, holding him close to you.

He hums in response, the vibration adding to the sensation as his mouth continues savoring your body. His free hand skims down your side, tracing every curve, every dip, before settling at your waist. He releases your breast with a soft, wet sound, his lips immediately finding your belly. Then, his kisses trail lower, each press of his mouth against your skin making your impatience grow, but his hands steady your hips as his lips linger just above the waistband of your pajama pants.

His eyes flick up to meet yours. The way he looks at you—hungry, tender, and utterly devoted—makes your breath catch. The heat pooling between your thighs becomes unbearable, your panties damp with need as you writhe beneath him.

Finally, Sylus hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pajama pants and underwear, pulling them down in one smooth motion. His tongue darts out to wet his lips when he takes in the sight of you, bare and ready for him. Sylus starts slow, savoring every moment as his lips plant tender kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

"You’re trembling," he murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wider. "So responsive... so beautiful."

The warmth of his breath fans over your dripping pussy, teasing, as he lets his lips linger just close enough for you to feel the ghost of a touch. Finally, his mouth moves to where you need him most. His tongue flattens against your folds, licking a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, making you gasp, your hips bucking instinctively toward his mouth. His tongue circles your clit, before his lips close around the swollen bundle of nerves, sucking gently at first, then harder as he finds the rhythm that makes your moans turn into cries.

One hand remains on your thigh, keeping you spread open for him, while the other slides up. His middle finger traces along your entrance, teasingly dipping in before retreating, then plunging back in, this time to the knuckle. He groans against your clit, as if the sensation of you gripping his finger drives him just as wild. He adds a second finger, his long digits stretching you, curling just right to press against your sweet spot. The dual sensation of his mouth and fingers has you writhing beneath him, drawing you closer to the edge. His tongue flicks rapidly over your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, the wet sounds mixing with your breathless cries.

Your thighs quiver, and he knows you’re close - his fingers curl deeper, pressing harder against that perfect spot as his lips suck your clit relentlessly. Your orgasm rips through you with a force that leaves you breathless. Your walls clamp around his fingers as your body arches off the rug, your cries filling the room as the pleasure pulses through every inch of you. Sylus doesn’t stop, prolonging your high as his tongue and fingers coax every last tremor of pleasure from your body until you’re trembling, gasping his name in broken, desperate whines.

Finally, he slows, withdrawing his fingers and pressing one last lingering kiss to your oversensitive clit, his lips curling into a smug smile as he looks up at you, his chin glistening with your release.

"My beautiful girl," he whispers, as he kisses the inside of your thigh one last time before sitting up. "All mine."

He takes off his pajama shirt, and in one fluid motion, he pulls off his pajama bottoms, leaving him completely bare. Your breath hitches at the sight of him, his cock thick, long, and hard. His eyes lock onto yours as he leans down, positioning himself between your legs. You gasp softly as the tip of his cock glides through your folds, his length sliding back and forth, coating himself in your mixed fluids. The sensation alone has you trembling, your legs instinctively parting wider for him.

Then, slowly, he presses against your entrance, the thick head of his cock stretching you as he begins to slide in, his eyes locked on you as your body takes in every inch. When he bottoms out, he pauses, his hips flush against yours, his cock buried deep. The sensation of being so completely filled sends waves of pleasure radiating through your body, leaving you gasping. His weight shifts as he lowers himself onto his elbows, bringing your bodies closer, his chest brushing against yours. He captures your lips in a slow kiss, making your head spin. His hips start to move, rolling against you in a languid rhythm drawing soft moans from you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing to feel more of him, your heels digging into his lower back. Your hands slide up to his shoulders, your fingers pressing into the taut muscles as he moves. His cock drags against your walls with each thrust, hitting spots that leave you gasping into his mouth. He swallows every sound, his kiss growing more feverent, his breath ragged as his body molds against yours. His hips grind against yours, his cock pressing deeper, harder, as you cling to him, your nails digging into his back.

Sylus’ pace begins to slow, his hips rolling more languidly as his lips break from yours.

“I need you closer.” he murmurs.

Without waiting for a response, he shifts his weight, one arm wrapping securely around your waist as he leans to the side, taking you with him. You gasp softly as your bodies roll together, your legs untangling briefly before one of his slips between yours.

Now on your sides, your bodies are pressed together so tightly you can feel his heartbeat. His arm stays snug around your waist, pulling you even closer, while his other hand cradles the back of your head. Your chest presses against his, and your hands rest against him, one lightly squished between your bodies. The other moves instinctively to his neck, your fingertips feeling his warmth, his pulse. Your leg hooks over his hip instinctively, granting him better access as his hips begin to move again.

The new angle makes you moan, his cock hitting even deeper, the angle forcing you to take all of him, and you clutch at his neck, your nails grazing his skin.

"My love." he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple as you press your face into his chest, overwhelmed by the closeness, the way he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in his world.

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, your lips parting slightly. His eyes burn into yours, before his mouth captures yours in a deep, hungry kiss. The base of his cock presses perfectly against your clit with each thrust, the friction sending sparks of heat shooting through you. You’re helpless against the pleasure building inside, your breaths ragged and broken as his rhythm pushes you closer to the edge.

His hand on your back tightens, pulling you flush against him, the slick grind of his pelvis teasing that swollen, aching bud mercilessly. You arch into him, your nails digging into the hard muscle of his chest, and your gasps turn into needy, breathless cries.

“Just like that,” he rasps, his eyes stay locked on your face, devouring every flicker of pleasure that twists across your features. "Let me see you fall apart for me."

The way his cock fills you, stretching you with every roll of his hips, combined with the perfect pressure against your clit, is too much. Your body coils tighter, your thighs trembling where they’re hooked around his waist.

“Sylus…” you whimper, your voice trembling.

“Come for me,” he growls, one still cradling your head, the other pressing your back to him like he can’t stand even a breath of distance between you.

The tension inside you snaps, your body locks tight, your walls squeezing his cock with desperate intensity, milking him as a guttural moan escapes his throat. He thrusts into you harder, deeper, grinding his pelvis against your swollen clit, wringing every last pulse of pleasure from your throbbing pussy. Your cries fill the room, your entire body trembling in his arms. Sylus holds you through it all, his movements never faltering, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you as you ride out your high.

"That’s it." he murmurs tenderly, his gaze never leaving your face, memorizing the way you look in this moment—completely undone, completely his.

But he doesn’t stop - his hips keep rolling into you, his cock dragging against the oversensitive walls of your pussy, the friction is almost too much.

"You feel so perfect," he groans, his voice vibrating through his chest where you’re pressed tightly against him.

Your legs tremble, locked tight around his waist, keeping him buried deep. Sylus’ thrusts turn frantic, slamming into you harder, rougher, the sound of wet, filthy friction filling the room. His cock twitches inside you, driving deeper with every thrust.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost broken, as your name falls from his lips. His hand cups your face, fingers trembling as they stroke your cheek, grounding himself in the haze of his need.

His movements stutter, his cock throbbing, and with a guttural growl, he pushes into you one last time, spilling hot and thick cum inside you. His hips twitch helplessly, every pulse of his release sending a shudder through his body. He clings to you, forehead pressed to yours, his breath ragged as he groans your name one last time.

His name escapes your lips in a soft, breathless moan, and he captures it in a searing kiss. The kiss slows as his movements still, the room filled with the sound of your mingled breathing and the faint crackle of the fire beside you. Sylus doesn’t pull away, his arms still wrapped around you, and you rest your head against his chest. His hands roam gently over your back and shoulders now, as if trying to soothe the tremble in your muscles. He kisses the top of your head before he pulls back just enough to look at you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his fingertips grazing your cheek with a featherlight touch.

You nod with a soft smile.

He leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that feels entirely different from before—his mouth moves tenderly, as though memorizing the curve of your lips, savoring the taste, the warmth you offer. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin, grounding you both. When he pulls back slightly, his forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the stillness. His gaze, when it meets yours, is soft, filled with adoration. You could stay like this forever.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 49: Reforming Bonds

Summary: Your pack tries to figure out what comes next after John's announcement.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 10,527 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, explicit sexual content, p in v sex, oral sex, handjobs, shower sex, slight dom/sub dynamics, spanking (lots of asses get slapped), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, alternate universe, language, slight angst, emotions

A/N: I'm ovulating so you're welcome

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“Cap, what do ye mean?”

Chaos has erupted since John’s surprise announcement. Johnny is on his feet almost instantly in disbelief, trying to process the words his captain and alpha have just said. So they didn’t know either, judging by the surprised looks on their faces. They had no idea, and they weren’t expecting it.

“I’m retiring.” John says, repeating what he had just said. “It’s time I settled down.”

Johnny stammers for a moment, still trying to wrap his head around this sudden change in their lives.

“If you’re going, so am I.” Kyle says, rising to his feet as well.

“Kyle, you don’t have to-” John starts but Kyle holds his hand out.

“No, I want to.” The room goes still as Kyle addresses his alpha. “You’re right. It’s not fair for us to do this. Our omega deserves a normal pack and a good life.” He shakes his head. “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

John stares long and hard at him for a moment before nodding. “It’s your decision in the end, what you want to do.”

“This is what I want to do.” Kyle says softly.

John nods, still staring at him. He reaches out, taking Kyle’s hand. “Okay.”

There’s a sudden tension in the air as Simon stands from the couch, heading towards the back door. All four of you watch him go, the glass sliding open before closing softly. You chew on your lip, leaning forward to set John’s paperwork on the table. Part of you wants to look through it, read every small detail about your alpha as you can, but another part of you knows even some parts of him will remain secret to you. The less you know the better. That was how your place in this pack started.

Maybe it should stay that way.

You go to rise, but Johnny puts out a hand, stopping you. “Let him go, kitten.”

You glance at him for a moment before looking back at the door. You want to know what’s going through his head, what he’s feeling but he won’t let you in like that. Not right now. Even Johnny doesn’t go after him. He needs his space and you have to be okay with that.

John’s hand runs over your head, brushing your hair back from your face. You’re still staring at the door, staring out where Simon has disappeared. He squats down next to you again, his knees cracking. You fight the urge to make a joke, to tease him about his creaky joints in his retirement age.

“How are you?” He asks softly, slipping his hand around the back of your neck. It’s a comforting weight, a reminder of just how long it’s been since you presented for him. There’s a tingle beneath your skin at the touch of his hand.

“You’re really doing this? For me?” You ask, staring into those bright blue eyes of his.

“Yes.” He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re still young. You deserve to live a happy life with me in it.”

A smile forms on your face, relief starting to flood through you as the shock wears off. He’s voiced one of your deepest worries, that fear that he’d come back in a body bag someday too soon. You’d have to live the rest of your life without your alpha. Your mother was proof it could happen, but your situation is different. Your relationship with John is different than that of your parents. John’s a good alpha, a good man. He’s done horrible things, things you don’t want to think about, but you know he’d never raise a hand towards you.

The fact you feel so comfortable with his hand on the back of your neck proves that.

You lean into him, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. His arms wrap around you, lifting you up so he can sit on the couch in your place.

You settle into his lap, resting against his chest. It’s been a long time since you’ve been held by him. There’s been such a distance between the two of you, even after his return from disposing of Shepherd. You haven’t truly had a vulnerable, intimate moment with him in weeks.

Johnny lets out a sigh before heading for the back door. Kyle slips into his spot on the couch, leaning up against John. His head rests against yours, one of John’s arms slipping from around you to curl around Kyle. The three of you sit there in silence, soaking in the moment.

John’s really going to retire for you. Kyle is going to retire for you.

You never thought you’d see the day.

You press your nose into John’s neck, his beard tickling your skin. He’d shaved it when he went after Shepherd, cutting it back to its normal length. You almost miss his scruffy face. Maybe you can convince him to grow it out more once he’s officially retired. The mental image of him all scruffy-faced and soft has you shifting in his lap. You doubt he’d let himself lose his physicality, but you can dream. He’s lost more than he’d like to, no doubt. They all have.

Maybe it is a good thing he’s retiring. It would be rough to go back now after this.

Simon’s going to have a hell of a time.

You slide the door closed behind you, wrapping your arms around yourself as you step out onto the deck. He’s leaning against the railing, smoke puffing up from his lips and dispersing into the air. You stand there for a moment, waiting for him to acknowledge you, but he doesn’t. He just stands there, staring off in the distance. You wonder if this is what they saw in those times you did the same.

You take slow steps forward, keeping yourself in his peripheral. He knows you’re there. You’d be shocked if you surprised him of all people.

That could also be dangerous for you.

You step up next to him, leaning against the railing, staring out at the grey sea in the distance. He’s smoking, a cigarette held between his fingers. You wonder how many he’s smoked since he came out here. You know they all do it occasionally, Price most of all, but you haven’t seen them smoke in a long time. You wonder when he bought the pack, or if he’s been keeping it for a moment like this.

You don’t blame him one bit for needing something to clear his head.

You hesitate before you speak, wondering if you should say anything at all, or if you should just wait for him to speak his mind. You might be out here all night if you waited. Instead you take the plunge, jumping right into the swirling black pool that is Simon’s emotions.

“I won’t ask you to retire.” You bite the bullet, coming right out and saying what you know he’s stressed about. He shifts on his feet just slightly as he brings the cigarette up to his lips. “That wouldn’t be fair.” You continue. “I’d want it to be your decision. Just like I left it up to John. I honestly didn’t know he was going to do it. I didn’t think he would ever. This whole time I was thinking we’d go back to living on base, things would return to the way they were before. I wouldn’t have liked it, but it wasn’t my place to say what you all could and couldn’t do. That’s why I wouldn’t ask you to do the same. It should be your choice what you decide to do and I’m okay with it if you decide you don’t want to retire. Honestly I can’t picture you retiring like I can John…”

You trail off as he lets out a sigh, taking another drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out on the railing. There’s a tense moment of silence, his gaze still off in the distance.

“You talk a lot when you’re nervous.” He finally says.

“I-I’m not nervous.” You say, shaking your head.

He huffs, leaning his arms on the railing. “Can smell it on you.” He shakes his head, dropping his gaze to the yard below. “I knew he’d do it.” He starts, speaking softly. “He’s been stressing for weeks about going back, putting you through that again. I never thought he’d actually do it…”

Simon trails off, fiddling with the lighter in his hand. You watch the dexterous way he moves it, fluidly slipping it between his fingers. You can imagine a knife in its place, spinning and flipping expertly. He’s good with his hands. You know personally what those long, rough, thick fingers are capable of.

“It certainly wasn’t what I was expecting he’d say.” You shake your head, clearing it of the thoughts rapidly taking over. “But I mean it.” You sink your teeth into your lip. “I won’t be upset if you decide to stay. You and Johnny.”

Simon slowly turns to face you, staring down at you. He’s silent for a moment, staring long and hard at your face. If you didn’t know him better, you might have shrunk under that gaze, wishing you could crawl under the deck. Instead you stand there strong, squaring up to that intense stare.

“You’ve come a long way from the scared pup that was forced into your pack.” He finally says, his gaze softening just a bit. “I’m proud of you. You’ve survived more than most omegas would, and you’re still standing.” He reaches out, running a hand over your head. “I think Laswell was right in her choice.”

“I am glad she chose me.” You smile, leaning into his touch as his hand drops to cup your cheek. “Despite everything, I still think it could have been worse.” You make a face. “Phil could have gotten his way.”

Simon growls lowly, the sound rumbling in his chest. “I will pay you to never think about that shit stain again.”

“How much?” You smirk, letting out a shriek as you attempt to slip out of his grip. He’s too fast, though, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you back.

His hand slaps your ass, stinging even through your jeans. “Little shit.” He grunts, wiggling you around until you’re pressed up against his chest. “You’re a pain in my ass.”

“But you love it.” You grin up at him, knowing you’re right. He’s loved it for a long time, longer than he’s admitted.

He hums, leaning his forehead against yours. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You breathe, brows pulling slightly in a frown.

“For allowing me the chance to do this. For proving my thoughts and beliefs wrong.” He says. “For being so goddamn understanding.”

Your lips pull into a smile, your head tilting so you can kiss him. “I’m glad you’ve gotten this opportunity to learn to be vulnerable. Who knows where you’d be if you didn’t.”

“Still a miserable cunt with nothing to live for.” He says.

You snort, pressing another kiss to his lips. “You’ve had Johnny to live for.”

He hums in agreement. “I do quite like him.”

“It’s hard not to.” You say, wrapping your arms around Simon’s neck. “He’s just so...cute.”

“Don’t let him hear that. He’ll never let you forget you said it.” Simon mumbles against your lips.

“Nah, I’ll just tell him you said it.” You grin.

Simon growls, sinking his teeth into your lip. “You little shit.” His hand slips down, palming your ass. “Should line you all up, bend you over and spank you till you’ve got welts. See how much shit you wanna talk after.”

“Nothing can stop me.” You grin, biting his lip back.

He growls, smacking his hand against your ass again. It stings, but you can’t stop the moan from slipping through your lips.

“Fucking hell,” he grunts, squeezing your ass.

“Bit cold to be fucking on the porch.” A voice cuts through the tension, drawing you and Simon apart.

“Fuck off, Garrick.” Simon growls, his hand still on your ass.

He holds his hands up. “Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.” He grins. “Make it quick, we’re going to town for dinner.”

Simon’s hand lifts from your ass and you can imagine the gesture he made to Kyle. There’s a laugh before the door slides closed again. It makes you smile, seeing everyone back to their normal, playful selves again.

Simon leans down, pressing his face into your neck. He inhales deeply before sighing, his warm breath fanning across your cool skin. Goosebumps raise on your arms, the change in temperature making you shiver. Simon’s lips brush your neck, sliding down to your mark where he presses a soft kiss before he stands up straight once more.

“He’s right, we should get back inside.” You say, going to turn but a hand closes around your wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Simon grins. It has another shiver running down your back.

“To go get ready for dinner…” You say, frowning slightly at him.

His grin twists into a smirk. “He said make it quick.”

Your mouth falls open as you stare at him, the meaning of his words hitting you instantly. “Oh fuck…”

The house is quiet, the light slowly fading beneath your door as the lamps get shut off in the living room. You’re standing there, hand around the doorknob. You twist it slowly, watching the light beneath the door fade entirely to darkness.

That darkness is broken as you crack your door open, casting a stream of light from the disgusting overhead bulb. You’ve turned it on out of necessity despite how badly it burns your retinas in the otherwise dark world around you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You ask into the darkness, the shape that would be otherwise hidden on the moonless night pausing by the stairs.

“To bed.” He rumbles, turning around to face you, hand on the banister. You can picture him, leg lifted ready to lift himself onto that first step.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” You say quietly, leaning against the door frame.

“No,” He says, releasing the banister so he can turn to fully face you. “Just figured you might want some space.”

“Why would I want that?” You ask, curious as to what he’s going to come up with.

He tilts his head. “I know I haven’t been the best alpha to you lately. Retiring won’t make up for what I’ve put you through, the promises I broke. I figured I’d be the last person you’d want to see right now.”

Emotions rise in your throat, threatening to choke you. He’s not wrong. He’s hurt you in more ways than one. Retirement won’t fix everything, all of the heartbreak he’s caused you. That will take time.

But he is wrong about you wanting distance.

“Yeah, well, you’re wrong.” You say, swallowing thickly. “Kyle will survive a night without you.”

He stares at you for a moment before he nods, a smile tugging at his lips. “Okay.”

You step back from the door, hand on the light switch as you wait for him to cross the small living room. Despite the absence of one person, the cottage has started feeling smaller to you. You long for space and breathing room. It almost makes you miss the barracks.

Almost.

You turn off the light as soon as John steps through the door, breathing a sigh of relief. You close the door behind him, letting it click as it seals the two of you inside. You brush past him, heading towards the bed.

Hands dart out, wrapping around your waist before you can get too far. You’re pulled backwards and spun around so you’re facing John. It happens so fast you have barely any time to react, just managing to get your hands on his chest before you slam into his body. His arms wrap around you, keeping you pinned there as he stares down at you. His gaze is intense, burning a hole straight through you. A shudder runs through your body, your skin starting to tingle under the warmth of his hands.

“I’ve been neglecting you.” He murmurs, leaning down close to your face. His breath is warm as it fans across your skin. You try to lean up to kiss him but he pulls back just out of reach. “I’m sorry.”

“Why don’t you prove how sorry you really are?” You say, your fingers bunching the fabric of his shirt.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your hands. “I think I can do that.”

He finally leans down, pressing his lips against yours. They’re slightly chapped but you don’t care, leaning up as far as you can to push against him. He kisses you hard, scraping his teeth against your bottom lip. You moan against his lips, sliding your hands up to his shoulders.

“Missed you.” He murmurs against your lips.

“You were the one neglecting me.” You say, pulling back.

He hums, sliding his hands down to your ass and squeezing. “Neglecting myself too. I’m not wasting any more time.” He says, leaning down to kiss you. “Get on the bed.” He growls.

“No.” You say, pulling away. “I’m in charge.”

The growl rumbling in his chest lowers in pitch, his eyes darkening but you don’t move, standing there strong despite your omega’s desire to do as you’re told. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction. He chose to neglect you, so you’re going to make sure he pays for it.

His growl softens as the tension in his shoulders relaxes. He toes off his slippers before passing you to head towards the bed. You rear back, slapping his ass on the way. He grunts, jumping slightly at the impact. He glances at you over his shoulder with a playful look before he climbs onto the bed, settling himself in the middle.

You take a moment to stare at him, taking in the sight of him on your bed, the place that’s been your safe haven for months. It’s not a nest, but it’s the closest you can get.

The sight of your alpha in it makes your pussy tingle.

You make your way to the bed, climbing onto the edge. You crawl over to him, sitting yourself up on his thighs. He stares up at you, his hands sliding up your legs.

You push them back onto the bed, shaking your head. “No touching.”

He grunts, but keeps his hands flat on the bed.

You lean forward, trailing your fingers across his cheek, feeling the prickle of his beard across your fingers as you trail them down his jaw. You continue your path down his throat, sliding over his Adam’s apple before dipping into the space between his collar bones. He swallows thickly, and you watch the way his throat bobs. You sit up on your knees, bending over him to sink your teeth into his throat. He growls, his hands closing around the backs of your knees.

His grip is tight, warning.

You don’t let up though, trailing bites across his throat to his neck. You sink your teeth into the skin below his ear drawing another growl. Your teeth leave red marks down his neck to his shoulder, where you sink your teeth in as hard as you can. He lets out a deep growl, his hand slapping your ass hard.

“Fuck.” He grunts as you let up, leaning over him.

You put your hands on either side of his head, staring down at him. “I thought I said no touching.”

“Almost took a chunk out.” He says, trailing his hands up the backs of your thighs.

“Good.” You say, sitting up on his stomach. “You bit me, it’s only fair I bite you.”

“You’ve bitten me lots of times.” He says, laying back.

“Yeah but mine won’t leave a scar.” You say, trailing your fingers down his chest.

You push your hips back, your clothed pussy pushing against the bulge in his sweatpants. You lean down, dragging your tongue across his chest before you reach his nipple, closing your lips around it. A breathy moan leaves his lips as you suck on the bud, tracing circles around it with your tongue. He sucks in a breath as your teeth scrape across his nipple, your lips curling around it to suck hard.

His hand lifts to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. You pull away from his nipple with a pop, sitting yourself up over him again.

“I said no touching.” You say, pushing his arm down. “For a military man, you don’t listen very well.”

“I never was good at following orders.” He smirks. “Only giving them out.”

You huff, forcing his hands under your knees. “Gonna have to tie you up.”

“How are you going to do that?” He lifts a brow at you.

“I’ll figure it out.” You smirk, pushing yourself back so you’re seated over his hips.

You run your fingers across his soft stomach, trailing them through the soft hair that makes a line directly where you’re headed. He’s hard under you, his bulge prominent through his sweatpants. You’re equally as aroused, panties so wet you’re probably leaving a spot on his pants.

You slip your fingers under the band of his sweatpants, finding nothing but skin. Oh, he’s gone commando underneath. You never took him for the type. You know Johnny freeballs a lot, and so does Simon, but you never thought John would as well. Maybe he hoped to get his dick wet tonight. If not by you, then someone else.

Lucky for him it did turn out to be you.

You push yourself up onto your knees as you slide his sweatpants down, revealing his cock. It’s hard and red, the tip already leaking. He’s this turned on by you and you haven’t even touched him yet. He really has been neglecting himself. You push his pants down as far as you can, his legs lifting to kick them the rest of the way off.

You sit yourself on his strong thighs, resting one hand on his hip as you drag a finger up the length of his cock. He shivers, hands clenching the sheets as you tease his head, running your finger over his weeping slit.

“So hard already.” You muse, smearing his precum down the length of his cock. “Barely touched you.”

“Told you I’ve been neglecting myself.” He grunts as you spit into your hand before finally gripping his cock.

You hum, squeezing the base before slowly dragging your hand to the top. He twitches in your hold, more precum spilling out of his tip. “If you were better behaved I might let you cum right now.” You lean down, your breath fanning his cock. “But you just couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

He twitches in your hand again as you drag your tongue from base to tip, flicking it along his slit. He groans, hands pulling at the sheets. The scent of him is heavy in the air, the muskiness of his arousal mingling with your own sweet scent. You’re dripping on his thigh, leaving a wet patch where you’re seated.

“You gonna cum? Make a mess all over yourself?” You hum, slowly stroking his throbbing cock.

“Yes,” he breathes, his hips pushing up against your hand.

“I don’t think so.” You say, dropping his cock from your hand.

He lets out a growl, his head lifting to stare down at you. “You little minx.”

You shrug. “Should have been good for me and kept your hands to yourself.” You sit yourself back between his legs, pulling your panties off and tossing them onto the floor. “If you can last until I cum, then maybe I’ll be nice to you.”

You climb up over his hips again, your hand wrapping around his cock. You don’t even need to prep yourself before you line him up, sinking down onto him. Your baggy shirt blocks out his view of his thick cock spreading you open. He groans, his head tilting back as you squeeze around him, sinking down until you’re seated on his hips.

Oh god how you’ve missed his cock.

It fills you just right, spreading you open and pushing against all those lovely little spots inside of you. It might just be the perfect cock, but then again, you’re likely to think that about all of them in the moment. Four perfect cocks attached to four perfect men.

How truly lucky you are.

And how lucky they are to have you.

You start to move your hips, rocking back and forth on John’s cock. His hands are still gripping the sheets so tight you’re worried he might rip them. Oh well, that would be a problem for later.

John bucks his hips as you lift yourself, spearing his cock back into you. You force your weight down, pinning his hips to the bed. “Be good.” You warn him, despite the pleasure reeling in your brain. The desire to give in and let him pound you into the mattress is strong, but you’re in too deep and have to keep control for now.

You continue to rock your hips, rising up and down along the length of his cock. His head is lifted, neck straining as he stares at you, watching your body move. His lips are parted, his chest rising and falling heavily with his breaths. He’s holding himself back, trying to keep control on himself. He could easily take over, force you to submit, but he lets you play this game.

For now.

You press your hands against John’s stomach, feeling the muscles contract as he breathes. Even after so much time he still has kept some of his strength. You can imagine him doing his pushups and situps in the morning, keeping himself agile and strong just in case.

You wonder if he’ll continue that even after retirement.

You can imagine he will. He’ll always have that need to be ready just in case.

That protective edge will never leave the back of his mind, no matter how relaxed he gets.

That almost makes you sad.

Your hands push into his stomach, using him as leverage to bounce on his cock. You’re quickly growing tired, and the press of his cock inside you has you rapidly approaching an orgasm. He’s pulsing and twitching inside of you, and you’re shocked he’s lasted this long. A true testament to his inner resolve.

He was being bad on purpose.

You don’t doubt that one bit.

It’s all a game to him, indulging this desire to be dominant for a moment. It’s a game you’ll gladly play, though, even if for just a moment.

“Fuck,” You breathe, reaching under your shirt to rub your clit.

John groans as you squeeze around him, his head falling back as he gets closer and closer to his own orgasm. Eventually he won’t be able to hold it. Eventually he’s going to lose control and cum without your permission. You’re tempted to push him that far, but at the same time you’re desperate to cum on your alpha’s cock.

High-pitched whines leave your lips as you desperately grind against his hips, fingers rubbing rapid circles around your clit. “Gonna cum!” You gasp, body shuddering as pleasure ripples through you.

“Cum on my cock.” He grunts, hands leaving the sheets to grip your thighs.

You don’t care, too close to the edge to pay much attention to him. You’re too busy chasing your own high.

Your orgasm slams into you, your hips jerking as you spasm around him. He lets out a deep moan, fingers indenting your thighs as he holds on for dear life. He won’t cum yet. He’ll be good and hold off for you despite the way you’re gripping him like a vice, your body trying to milk his own orgasm.

You pull yourself off of him, sitting back on his thighs as you take his cock in your hand. It’s slick and shiny with your juices, your hand slipping along him easily as you pump him. “Cum for me.” You breathe, squeezing your hand around his cock.

He cums with a deep groan, hips lifting as he finally gets relief, painting his stomach with his seed. You jerk him through his orgasm, seeking every last drop he can give you until he’s going soft in your hand. He’s breathing heavily, chest heaving as he slowly releases your thighs, dropping his hands back to the bed.

You crawl your way back up to his face, leaning over him as he tries to catch his breath. “So good for me.” You breathe, still damp and slick between your thighs. You know he’s getting hard again. You can smell the thickening of his scent in the air.

You press your lips against his, leaning down to rest your body against his chest. His arms come up, wrapping around you, pinning you there. You pull back just slightly, staring down into his eyes. “Fuck me like you missed me.” You breathe against his lips.

“Yes ma’am.” He says, his hands bunching your shirt around your waist. You sit yourself up just enough that he can pull it over your head and drop it on the floor.

You lean yourself back down, pressing your breasts against his chest as you kiss him again. He groans against your lips, trailing his hands across your skin.

“So fucking soft.” He grunts, squeezing your hips. His hands are rough against your back, still calloused despite his lack of handling weapons regularly. Maybe it’s just part of him, something he’ll never lose.

You don’t mind it one bit.

He wraps his arms around you, pushing up as he rolls you over onto your back. He hovers above you, elbows pressed into the mattress on either side of you. He stares down at you for a long moment, eyes tracing your face.

“What?” You ask, worrying there might be something wrong.

“Forgot what you looked like under me.” He grins playfully.

“Well, take a picture. You can share it to the group chat.” You smirk.

He chuckles. “No. This is just for me.”

He leans back down, pressing another kiss to your lips. He does kiss you like he missed you, soft and tender yet passionate and devouring. It has your toes curling and he hasn’t even touched you.

His lips leave yours to trail down your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin to leave marks just as you did to him. You shiver as he presses a kiss to your mark, the skin tingling from his touch. Your entire body is tingling as you give over control to him, submitting to him and what he’s going to do to your body to prove he really did miss you.

He kisses his way down your body, pausing for a moment to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, giving them the same attention you did to him. Your lips part in a breathy moan as he sucks on the sensitive bud, scraping his teeth along the skin before releasing it with a pop. He gives you a smirk as he continues down your body, licking a circle around your belly button before sliding even lower.

He trails kisses down your pelvis, ending with a kiss just above your clit. You lift your head up, watching him as he stares at your pussy, still slick and sensitive from your first orgasm. He hums, his thumbs spreading you open.

“Just as pretty as I remember.” He says.

A snarky remark dies on the tip of your tongue as he drags his tongue through your folds. You flop back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as he finally reaches your clit, pressing a soft kiss against it.

Your lips part as he flicks the tip of his tongue against your clit, toes already curling again as he circles the still sensitive bud. His fingers keep you spread open as he licks another stripe through your folds before his lips wrap around your clit. He sucks hard, a sound almost like a mewl leaving your lips as pleasure shoots through you like an electric shock.

Your fingers curl into the sheets as John continues his relentless assault on your clit, slurping at your folds like a parched man. His tongue draws shapes across your clit, swirling and flicking, his lips closing around it and suckling hard. Your legs are shaking already, toes curled as he feasts on you like he really did miss you.

“Fuck…” You whine, pushing your hips up against his face, your thighs trying to close around his head. You don’t care that you might suffocate him. You doubt he’d complain about dying between your thighs. Out of all the ways he could go…

“Feel good, sweetheart?” He murmurs against your clit, sucking on it again.

“Yes!” You moan, your hand reaching down to slide through his hair. He cut it recently, back to the normal short length he wore on base. They’ve all cleaned up a bit, likely due to their belief they were all headed back to their old lives.

Now things have changed.

Your back arches off the bed as John continues to eat you out, pushing you closer and closer to another orgasm. You were already sensitive from the first, and the mix of his tongue and the burn of his beard on your inner thighs has you rapidly approaching a second.

“Cum for me.” He growls, scraping your clit with his teeth before wrapping his lips around it.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck, your entire body shaking as waves of pleasure course through you. You can barely handle it, colors erupting behind your eyes as you writhe on the bed. John continues to suckle at your clit, working you through your orgasm.

He finally relents once you’re shaking with overstimulation, pulling his face back from your pussy. His beard is damp with your juices, lips shining. You hold your arms out for him, inviting him to crawl back up so he’s wrapped in your arms.

“Good girl.” He murmurs.

You can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you, his knee hooking beneath your leg and pushing it up. You wrap it around his waist, pulling his body as close as you can. His hand slides beneath your back, coming to rest between your shoulder blades. He cradles you as he slips a hand between your bodies, still kissing you as his cock brushes against your damp pussy. You’re still wet despite two orgasms, worked up by the touch and smell of your alpha.

You whimper against his lips as he pushes into you, your body welcoming him in gladly. A sigh leaves his lips as you squeeze around him, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. John leans his forehead against yours as he sinks completely into you, his hips pressing flush against yours.

“Fucking feel so good wrapped around me.” He breathes, pausing there for a moment as he presses soft pecks across your face.

“Missed you.” You whisper, wrapping yourself around him as tightly as you can.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, pressing his cheek against yours. “Shouldn’t have been neglecting you.”

“Make it up to me.” You say, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before nipping it gently.

He hums before he starts moving, rocking his hips against yours. You feel so full, his cock pressing as far as it can into you with each thrust of his hips forward. It’s slow and soft, John taking his time to try and prove to you just how much he missed you, trying to make up for just how much he’s neglected you over these last couple weeks by keeping his distance.

You would have accepted him back with open arms immediately. You have missed him, despite your tumultuous emotions surrounding your alpha. You love him, you always have, even in those moments when he hurt you. You know they weren’t intentional, done out of malice in a desire to hurt you as much as he can. You know he loves you too. You can tell just by the way he handles you so delicately, how he’s tried to make up for his mistakes in the best ways he knows how.

He keeps his arms wrapped around you tightly, holding you close as he rocks against you. You moan softly in his ear, clinging to him like he might slip away, like this might be a dream you could wake up from any moment. Deep down you know it’s not, but at the same time that fear that this is all in your head runs rampant.

John presses soft kisses across your face as he makes love to you, almost as if he can sense your fears, your doubts and he’s trying to brush them away. Your nails dig into his back as he shifts his hips, his cock brushing against that spot inside of you with every thrust. It has warmth spreading through your entire body, electricity coursing through your veins, sparking every inch where his skin touches yours.

“Alpha,” You whimper, clinging onto him for dear life.

“I’ve got you.” He whispers in your ear, tightening his hold around you, lifting your body to meet his.

He moans softly, the sound rumbling in his chest as you squeeze around him. You can feel the warmth starting to pool in your stomach, heat blossoming between your thighs where his cock is sliding in and out of you slowly and steadily. You’re going to cum just like this, in the tenderness of this moment, a reuniting of your bodies after so long apart.

You can tell he’s getting close too, the occasional falter in his thrusts, the way his cock seems to pulse inside of you. He’s grunting and moaning in your ear, your own moans soft in the quiet of the room. Only the harmony of your bodies mingling together in pleasure can break the quiet that’s settled over the house in the darkness of night. Not even the rain dare fall and break this moment between you.

“John,” You breathe his name with a sigh as your back arches, pressing into him as you cum.

He’s not far behind, moaning your name into your ear as he spills into you, rocking his hips as he fills you.

He stills, resting some of his weight on you as you both lay there in bliss. It’s not uncomfortable. It’s grounding in the best way possible, his body pinning you to the bed, pussy still stuffed full of his cock. The doubts of this being real slowly float away, melting into the abyss as you breathe in his woody scent. It shoots back into the very primal parts of your brain, soothing your omega until she turns on her back in submission.

You’re crying before you realize it, tears leaking out the sides of your eyes. John shifts his weight, pushing up on his elbows so he’s staring down at you. “What is it? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

You shake your head, a quiet sob leaving your lips. You can’t put into words what you’re feeling. Bliss? Relief? That quiet ease of lingering grief you’ve been holding onto for so long finally dissipating?

John shushes you gently, cupping your face in his hands as you cry. You lean into his touch, nuzzling your face against his palm. “I’m so sorry.” He breathes, tears shining in his own eyes.

“Don’t hide from me again.” You breathe, a sob stuttering in your chest.

“I won’t.” He says, pouring nothing but conviction and truth into his voice. “I promise I won’t, and I’ll keep that promise.”

“You better.” You sniffle, pulling him down against you once more.

You lay there, the tears slowing as you hold him. There’s something so raw and intimate about this moment, sweat-slick bodies locked together in such a total way as you both allow such vulnerability. It speaks volumes of your trust in him to carry you and his trust in you to hold him. That is what you’re made for at the core of your instincts. To comfort, to care, to be the warm, open place for your alpha to retreat to. The safe space he can be vulnerable in.

Your tears slow to a stop, your breathing evening out as you lay there under the weight of him. Something has transpired in this moment, some hurdle the two of you have jumped over together in your relationship you hadn’t even realized was there. Some empty space has been filled, a hole patched.

John lifts his head, staring down at you for a moment before he leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You kiss him softly, smiling at the tickle of his beard on your skin. You wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

He finally releases you after a moment, sitting himself up on his knees. You wince as his softened cock slips out of you, your body feeling deliciously sore. “Come on,” he says, trailing a hand down your leg. You feel sticky as the sweat starts to dry. “Let’s shower.”

You take his hand as he climbs off the bed, welcoming his aid in standing. Your legs are still trembling a bit, feeling unsteady as he leads you to the bathroom. You sit on the closed toilet lid as he starts the shower, waiting until the temperature is perfect.

“Come on,” He says, slipping his arms under you to carry you under the warm spray.

You laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold on as the warm water pelts against your skin. He stands there for a moment, holding you as he stares down at your face.

“What?” You ask, smiling at him.

“Nothing.” He says, smiling back. “Just can’t get over how beautiful you are.”

Your face warms at his compliment, your arms wrapping tighter around his neck. “Stop it.”

“Never.” He says, leaning down to kiss you again.

You kiss him back, keeping your lips locked together as he slowly lowers you to your feet. You stand on your toes, back to the spray as you kiss him. Warmth is blooming beneath your skin again as his hands slide over your hips.

He turns you around, letting you get wet in the spray before he grabs the soap, lathering his hands. He drags them across your skin, cleaning the dried fluids from your body. He takes his time with your breasts, cupping them in his hands as he drags his thumbs over your nipples. There’s a stirring beginning in your stomach again, warmth starting to sink down from your stomach to your pelvis.

His hands abandon your breasts to slide lower, trailing over your stomach before slipping even lower. He presses against your back as his hands scrub at your inner thighs, wiping the juices that have begun to dry against your skin.

Your teeth sink into your lip as his hands travel upward, one of them slipping between your legs. His fingers are gentle as they rub through your folds, still sensitive from three orgasms. His middle finger drags over your clit, making your hips jerk. You can feel him growing hard against your back, your ass pushing back against him as he continues to tease your clit.

“Fuck,” You breathe, starting to dampen between your thighs and not from the water spraying you both.

You push yourself forward, bending so your hands press against the tile wall. You push back against his ass, grinding against him.

He gets the message, pulling back just slightly before the tip of his cock drags through your folds. You’re still sensitive as he pushes into you, your pussy fluttering around him. He groans, the sound echoing around the tile walls of the shower as he presses in until he’s flush with your ass. Your hands push against the wall, pressing you back against him to take him as deep as you can.

“Fucking irresistible.” He groans, his hands gripping your hips as he starts to thrust into you.

His thrusts are quick and sharp, the antithesis of what they were just a few minutes before. Gone is the intimacy and the vulnerability, instead desperate need taking its place. It’s not about making love anymore, instead it’s feeding into that primal need taking over.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh fills the bathroom as he fucks into you hard, using his grip on your hips to pull you back against him as he thrusts into you. You can do nothing but stand there as he uses you, fighting to keep from slipping in the water still spraying both of you from overhead.

Your moans are short and sharp, nails scratching at the tiles as you get closer and closer to the edge, forced onward by the drag of his cock against that spot inside of you. It has your legs shaking, body pushing back against his as your back arches.

“Come on,” He grunts, his thrusts starting to get sloppy. He has to be sensitive still too.

Your legs do nearly give out as his fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles against the overly sensitive bud. You brace yourself against the wall, John’s arm wrapping around your stomach to keep you upright as he continues his assault on your clit.

“Cum for me.” He grunts, his hips snapping against your ass.

“Fuck…” You whine, legs nearly spasming as you gush around his cock, another orgasm slamming into you.

He curses as his thrusts get sloppy, his hips pushing hard against your ass as he grinds into you. His fingers don’t let up on your clit as he continues to chase his own high, pushing you close to the point of overstimulation. You can feel another orgasm rapidly approaching, your entire body trembling.

“That’s it,” he grunts, pushing against your clit.

Your arms nearly give out as another orgasm washes through you, just barely keeping yourself from face-planting into the wall as he thrusts hard against your ass twice more before he stills. His warm cum spurts into you as he orgasms, his head falling back as he groans low and deep.

“Bloody fucking hell.” He grunts, hands holding your hips up as you shake from the intensity of your second orgasm.

He pulls himself out of your overstimulated pussy, still spasming as his cum starts to drip out of you. He wraps his arms around you, lifting you up so you’re pressed against his chest.

“So fucking good for me, you know that?” He hums in your ear, pressing a kiss to the lobe.

You whine at his praise, a shiver running down your spine as your omega beams with pride.

He washes you clean again, taking his time washing your hair for you. You do the same to him, running the soap over his skin. You pause around his scars, gently caressing each one. It’s easy to ignore them sometimes, forget about them and their meanings. Sometimes you can’t help but stare, worry knotting in your stomach as you stare at the ones too close to vital organs. Close calls and the possibilities had those wounds just been slightly lower, slightly to the side.

Tonight you try to ignore the meanings of them, cleaning his skin until he nearly shines and the water starts to go cold.

He reaches around you to turn it off, a shiver running through you as the cool air in the bathroom hits your skin. He’s quick to wrap a towel around you, drying you off as much as he can before drying himself.

You head back into your room, forgoing clothes as you climb into the bed naked. The sheets are slightly damp and smell like sex but you don’t care. John joins you just a moment later, forgoing clothes as well. He lays down on his back, opening an arm to you. You saddle in close to his side, tossing an arm around him as he pulls the sheets up around you. You press your nose into his chest, breathing in the clean scent of soap and the natural scent of him beneath. It calms your mind, slowing down your thoughts.

“Get some sleep.” He murmurs into your damp hair, kissing the top of your head.

You hum, already halfway there as your eyes slip closed.

It’s already light outside when you wake.

The light is shining through the gap in the curtain, pulling you from the sweet arms of sleep. It’s warm under the sheets, your back pressed up against something solid. You let out a groan as you stretch, joints popping. You’ve been in this position for a while.

“Morning.” A soft voice says, making you turn your head. John is still with you, reclined up against the headboard.

“What time is it?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes.

“Just past seven.” He says, his face illuminated by the glow of his phone.

“What’re you doing?” You ask, turning around to face him.

“Looking at houses.” He says, swiping across his screen.

“Houses?” Your sleep-addled brain can’t quite comprehend what he’s saying.

“For us to move into.” He says, glancing down at you.

It takes you a moment before the tears start to gather in your eyes. “Huh?” You push yourself up onto your elbow.

“We’ll have to go back to base for a short time while my retirement paperwork gets processed, but then we’ll have to have somewhere to go after that goes through.” He explains. “I’ve been looking at some places for a while.”

“A while?” You blink at him, trying to hold back the tears.

He nods. “Since before I left to go after Shepherd.” A tear falls at the implications of his words. “So...you’ve been planning this for a while?”

He nods again. “It’s been playing around in my head. Just took some time to finally settle.”

You scoot yourself closer, leaning your head on his shoulder. You take a couple breaths to compose yourself, to not let the emotions overflow again like they did last night. He’s been considering retiring for a while, he’s even been looking at places to move to. He’s been planning this a lot longer than you knew, than you thought.

“I like this place.” He says, showing you a listing of a nice looking modern house.

“Where is it?” You ask, looking at the photos as he swipes through them. It is nice, new and clean looking.

“Scotland.” He says.

“Scotland?” You frown. You always thought he’d want to stay in England.

“It’s a good place to retire.” He says, pausing on a photo of the backyard. “Been looking at places on the coast.”

You can’t stop the tears now, frantically wiping at them as they fall. “The coast?”

He nods. “Just for you.”

You wrap your arm around him, curling in close to his side. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, leaning his head on yours. He really has been paying attention. He really has been putting a lot of thought into you and what you’d like, where you’d be happiest and the most comfortable.

“Thank you.” You breathe, trying to hold in your sobs.

“Of course.” He says, squeezing you tightly against his chest. “I want you to be happy. You’ve gone through so much shit already, you deserve to live out the rest of your life where you’ll be at peace.”

It’s a strange jump from the no-nonsense alpha you’d met when you arrived in his life. The alpha dedicated to his job, his team, saving the world. The alpha that willingly put you second because that’s what was expected of him, because that’s what he needed to do. The alpha that broke promises to you because of the good of the world mattered more to him than you.

You sniffle, hugging him even tighter, so much it probably hurts. He doesn’t complain though, letting you cling to him as you need to.

You wonder what changed, what happened to cause this sudden shift in his priorities. Maybe it was almost losing you, maybe it was those times you got angry with him, screamed at him because he wasn’t listening, because he was neglecting you emotionally, mentally, physically. Because he wouldn’t give you what you needed and expected you to be fine. Maybe it was simply your existence here in this cottage where nothing mattered but healing and living a normal life. Maybe he finally realized just how much life on base affected you and he was able to look past the blinders the military put on him from an early age.

“I’ll never be able to thank you enough for this.” You murmur.

“Just be happy. That’s all that I need.” He says, kissing the top of your head.

You smile softly, releasing your tight hold on him. “This means so much to me.”

“I know.” He smiles. “That’s why I’m doing it.”

“You’re so good to me. It’s a nice change.” You tease.

He chuckles, his hand sliding down to your hip. “I’m going to ignore that.”

You giggle, sliding your hand down to rest on his stomach. “What other places are you looking at?” You ask.

“A few places.” He says. “Ones with enough space for a big bed.”

“Oh?” You raise a brow at him. “How big are we talking?”

“Big enough for at least three.” He says, his scent starting to thicken in the air. “Maybe enough for five.”

You bite your lip, images of tangled bodies, lips and hands all over filling your head. The four of them gathered around you as you lay there, open and ready for them. Heat starts to pool in your stomach, your thighs rubbing together.

John’s chest rumbles with a growl as your scent starts to project into the air. “What’s on your mind.”

You smirk, sliding your hand under the sheets. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Screamin’ fucking Jesus again?”

“They’ve got a lot of time to make up for.” Kyle shrugs, pulling the tea bag out of his mug and dropping it into the trash.

“It’s like they’re tryin’ tae torture me.” Johnny whines, dropping into a seat at the table.

Kyle pours some milk into his mug before joining him. “You can always go outside.”

“Might have tae.” He grunts, putting his head in his hand. “I cannae take it.”

“You’re hard right now, aren’t you?” Kyle asks, taking a sip of his tea.

“Like a fuckin’ rock.” Johnny says, leaning back in his chair as he runs a hand across his groin. “Cannae take listenin’ to those sweet noises. I just want tae stick my face between her legs and make them shake. Tha’s all.”

“You’ll get your chance.” Kyle says. “She’ll be coming for you next.”

“I hope so.” Johnny groans, dropping his head into his hands.

Thudding steps come down the stairs, Simon appearing. He pauses, glancing at your door before shaking his head. “Girl’s busy these days.”

“As long as she’s having fun.” Kyle shrugs.

Johnny almost whines, head still in his hands.

“Needy little pup.” Simon mumbles, dragging a hand through Johnny’s newly cropped mohawk as he passes. “Probably hard in your shorts, huh?”

Johnny lets out another sound, running his hand over his face. “I cannae take it.” He pushes himself up to stand, beelining for Simon in the kitchen.

“Uh uh.” Simon says, turning him around before Johnny can get a hand on his dick. “Go sit back down and be good.” He delivers a sharp slap to Johnny’s ass.

Johnny lets out a frustrated groan but does as he’s told, sinking back into his seat at the table. Kyle hides his smirk in his tea, ears perking up as the moaning in your room quiets.

“Quick one this morning.” He muses, hiding his own stiffy under the table. The mental images of you and Price together is almost too much for even him. What he wouldn’t give to bear witness to that again. His alpha and his omega lost in their pleasure together. He wouldn’t even have to participate. Just watching would be enough.

There’s a few moments of silence before your door opens, John exiting looking rather pleased. You follow him, hair slightly mussed and a dopey smile on your face.

“Good morning.” Kyle says, smirking at his alpha.

“It is.” John says, heading for the kitchen, a pep in his step.

“Morning.” You say dreamily, a fucked-out look on your face.

Johnny mumbles something, staring hard at you before rising to his feet, the chair squeaking on the floor from the suddenness of his movement. “Cannae take anymore.”

He crosses the space between you quickly, brushing the placemats off the table before he’s lifting you. You drop on your back on the table, the wood trembling from the force of it. Johnny kneels between your legs, tossing them over his shoulders before his face disappears from sight.

Your head drops back, thudding against the table as a moan slips through your lips. Kyle’s own lips part as he watches, a slurping sound rising from between your thighs.

“Oh fuck.” He breathes, watching the top of Johnny’s head bob as he eats you out. His stiffy is now rock hard, pulsing painfully in his pants.

“Fucking mutt-” Simon goes to move forward but John stops him with a hand on his chest, watching your back arch off the table as Johnny continues to slurp at your pussy.

“Let him.” He says, dropping a hand to adjust his own pants. “He’s suffered enough.”

Your moans start to fill the air, body writhing on the table as Johnny sucks at your clit, the wet squelch of his mouth cleaning the remnants of John from your pussy loud in the air. He’s eating you like a man starved, but you suppose he is.

Your hands dart out, gripping the edges of the table as your legs start to shake, overly sensitive from what John gave you this morning, and likely last night.

“Gonna cum!” You gasp, thighs squeezing around Johnny’s head but he doesn’t seem to care. He’d gladly die in your pussy if he had to.

Kyle can’t take anymore either, slipping a hand into his pants. “Fuck…” He breathes, the sounds coming from Johnny almost obscene. He’s moaning almost as much as you are, fingers indenting your thighs from how hard he’s holding onto you.

“Come on,” Simon says, moving around the table. “Be a good boy and make her cum.”

Johnny moans against your pussy, sucking hard on your clit. Your body shudders, back arching off the table as you cum against his tongue. Johnny moans, sticking his tongue into your pussy to catch every last drop of you.

You’re breathing hard, hands still gripping the edge of the table as Johnny continues to lap at you, pushing you towards overstimulation.

“That’s enough.” Simon says, wrapping his hand around the back of Johnny’s neck, yanking him up to stand. “Let the poor girl breathe.”

You continue to lay there on the table, legs dropping over the edge, still shaking just a bit.

“Look at you.” Simon tsks, licking the side of Johnny’s mouth where your juices shine on his skin. His hand drops to the front of Johnny’s boxers, pushing against them at the wet spot on the front of his shorts. “Came in your pants again, didn’t ya?”

Johnny groans, nodding unabashedly.

“Fucking whore.” Simon spits, slapping Johnny’s ass. “Go clean yourself up.”

“Yes, sir.” Johnny moans, stumbling his way to the stairs.

Simon turns his gaze to Kyle, his hand slowing in his pants. “You need to go clean yourself too?”

Kyle swallows thickly, pulling his hand out of his pants. He shakes his head. “No, sir.”

Simon scoffs. “Should try a little harder, then.”

Kyle does almost cum in his pants then, his cock twitching as Simon’s mean side comes out.

“Come on.” Simon says, lifting you up so you’re seated on the table. “Up and at ‘em princess. Gonna get your pussy juice all over the table.”

“Bit late for that.” You murmur, sliding off the edge and into a chair.

Simon grabs the cleaning spray and a rag, tossing it to Johnny as he returns. “Clean up your mess.”

“Yes, sir.” Johnny says, spraying down the table.

Kyle’s cock is still throbbing in his pants, painfully hard as he tries to focus on his tea. He should excuse himself to the bathroom, jerk himself off real quick, but instead he remains seated, enjoying the pulsing in his shorts just a little too much.

“You’re really doing it?” You ask, sinking down on the couch.

“Hmm?” Kyle hums, looking up from his phone.

“Retiring?” You continue, tucking your legs up under you as you face him.

“Yeah.” He shrugs, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“Why? You don’t have to.” You say.

“Because I want to.” He explains, draping an arm across the back of the couch. “John is right. You deserve to have a happy life with your pack and I want to be there for it. I’ve done my time and I think I’m ready to have a normal life.”

“You’re giving up your career for me.” You say quietly, almost hesitantly.

“It’s worth it.” He shrugs again. “I’d rather you be happy knowing I’m always going to be there than stressed I might not be coming home. It’s not fair to you to live with that stress.”

“But Simon and Johnny…”

“They’re going to do what they’re going to do.” He says. “That’s up to them and what they want. This is what I want. I want to live a normal life with you and John. He’s going to need the support for a while.”

“This is going to be hard for him, isn’t it?” You say.

He nods. “It will be a hard adjustment. John’s never been good at living a civilian life. Even when he’s had chances to go on leave, he never fully steps away. Giving it up cold turkey is going to be hard on him. He’s going to need help, support, someone who understands. No offense to you.”

“None taken.” You say. “He’s going to need you.”

Kyle nods. “That’s why I want to be there. It wouldn’t be fair for me to try and help from a distance. You’ll need help too, trying to adjust to a normal pack life again. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I left you both to flounder.”

You lean your head against his arm. “You’re so good to us. Too good.”

He smiles. “Nah, I just love you both.” He wraps his arm around you, pulling you in against his chest.

“I love you too.” You say, relaxing against him, and you mean it.

You love all of them so much it almost hurts.

NEXT ->

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[pxpecxdy]

Calendar Dates

Paring: Jack Abbot x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Somno (with signs of reader encouraging it), breeding, implied fertility problems, Jack sleeps nude (because I didn't want to write him taking his boxers off), p in v, established relationship, no beta we die like men

AN: Hope you guys enjoy! Started off with a concept and then tried to figure out who it would work best for. Didn't think I'd be writing for Jack yet here we are! It's been a long time since I've actually written fics and I'm enjoying it so much!

It's the fourth Wednesday of the month. A little heart drawn around the date on the calendar attached to the fridge. Normally, it was reserved for work schedules, birthdays, and the like. But the past few months have been different. Little hearts drawn in fun colors around seemingly meaningless days every month. To the unsuspecting person, it's probably date night. And it is but it's also more.

Jack tried his best to get the night off. Tried. This month he was unsuccessful. It was nearly morning when he got home. The winter sun hadn't bothered to begin to rise before he left the hospital. After a shift like tonight's, he was usually wiped. But the little pink heart was keeping him awake.

The floors creaked under his footsteps. The TV hummed with the sound of old sitcom reruns. There was no sign of you immediately.

Everything had been cleaned up, put away, and tidied. No dishes left on the coffee table. No mugs sticky with tea and half drank. No books laid face down on the arm of the chair. Nothing that would signify you were still awake. He's disappointed but understanding, it's late.

Jack walked past the refrigerator on his way to the bedroom. His hands already working on undoing the button on his cargo pants. With a sigh, he glanced at the calendar that had been plastered in his mind all night. He pauses. Something is different than when he last looked at it this evening. A little sticky note pressed against the center of the calendar.

I missed you

That's all he needed to know. Jack's lips upturned into a small smile. He slips into the bedroom. His clothes are following him like a trail of breadcrumbs to the bed. It's a bad habit he picked up after too many long shifts. He'll pick them up in the morning, but he knows you'll wake up before him and throw them into the hamper. It's something he didn't leave when he left the bachelor life.

Your body is illuminated with the glow of the TV. It's such a peaceful scene. The faint blue light softens the features of your face. Jack stands for a moment and just watches his wife sleep. He knows you're deep asleep by the sound of the little puffs that pass your lips with every exhale. The remote to the TV is thrown haphazardly onto the bed. He picks it up but hesitates to turn it off. He prefers it off but he knows you sleep better with the noise. Jack decides against it, he doesn't want to wake you. You deserve the rest

He sets the remote on the nightstand as he pulls back the covers. He blinks long when he sees you tucked under the blankets. You're wrapped up in that little sheer chiffon nightgown he loves. It's a present for him. It's purposeful and he's aware of it. He slides into the bed next to you, his hands grazing the fabric.

He presses his lips against the shell of your ear. It's a welcoming kiss, one he'd normally place on your forehead if you weren't facing away from him.

All he can think about is that shared calendar and you. It's the first time he wasn't able to trade shifts since you both agreed to this. These little hearts had been appearing on the calendar for four months now. He didn't think it would last this long. Neither of you did.

His hand ran across the light material. The fabric ruffled and lifted higher up your body. He couldn't see you underneath the covers but his hands had mapped out every dip, every curve, every scar, he didn't need to see to know his way around.

The movements are awkward as he attempts to make room for himself. There's plenty of room in the bed. More than enough for each of you to sleep comfortably. This isn't about sleep. His leg slides between yours. There's something missing, soft cotton. Can something be missing if you knew it wouldn't be there? He turns his head away, needing a moment to breathe air that's not yours.

One arm slips around your waist. He pulls you close to him. His hand wanders further. The tips of his fingers dip below and between the softness of your thighs. They dance across your folds before finding your clit. Little circles traced around the spot. Jack can feel the way your breathing deepens in your sleep. Your chest rises and falls with every movement he makes.

He pulls his hand away, only for a second, to move your thigh further, to make things easier for the both of you.

"Jack..." It's sleepy. It's lost somewhere between the world of the conscious and the depths of sleep. It's muffled by the pillow pressed to the side of your face.

He doesn't say anything. He doesn't know how awake you are, if you are at all. It doesn't matter. Not tonight.

The bed creaks as he shifts. One hand stays on your thigh. The other hand is wrapped around the base of his cock. Jack is careful as he moves, trying his hardest not to press any weight on you, avoiding waking you further, working around the awkward yet intimate position. Slowly, the tip of his cock slips in. His eyes close as he pushes the rest in. It's always better than he remembers.

He's not going to last long. The day, or rather night, has dragged his stamina away from him. His lips find the corner of your jaw just under your ear. Jack's hips move smoothly against the curve of your ass. Each roll pushing as deep as he possibly can. With every thrust, his hand slips further from your thigh. He can't get a good grip like this, not when he's lost in the feeling of your waiting cunt.

Your breath catches. Jack bites back a groan. He can feel you tighten around him. That's what does it. His arm that had been failing to hold your thigh has all its strength and grip back. He's pulling it back, angling it, making room for him to drive as far in as possible. He grunts as he stuffs your pussy full and empties himself, flooding your hole with his spend.

He waits a moment. He needs a moment. His hand lets go of your thigh. It traces up your body, skimming over the soft skin. He stretches a bit more, awkwardly leaning over you. His face is in your face. He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips before taking a moment just to watch you lay there peacefully. Slowly, he untangles himself from your body, smoothing down the sheer nightgown as he moves away.

He reaches over and grabs the remote, turning off the early morning hour infomerical. His hand pressed against your stomach, slipping under the nightgown as he pulls you close once again. There's a moment of reflection as the sun makes its way over the buildings.

He hopes it works this time. The little doodles of hearts on the calendar haunt him. Jack wants them to disappear, wants them to turn into milestones and doctor's appointments. A due date. It's been too long. His thumb rubs across the softness of your belly before finally joining you in the realm of unconsciousness.

AN: Thank you for reading! I'm not the best at writing p in v but I muscled through it, literally is what took me the longest to write and it's three sentences pretty much lol. If anyone has any advice I am gladly taking it

[navybrat817]

All Dressed Up

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky visits a gallery to support his best friend and unexpectedly meets the girl of his dreams.

Word Count: Over 2.3k

Warnings: First meeting, mild dirty thoughts, instacrush, swearing, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Okay, lovelies. A new AU. I'm sorry. @targaryenvampireslayer @tavners @starlightcrystalline @whisperlullaby @sgt-seabass @vesearlee , I feel like you all either heard me screech, encouraged, or helped me, and I appreciate you. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo and divider by the incredible @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t dress up for most people since it wasn’t his style. He would do so for any of his brothers though, especially Steve. His best friend since childhood, and his club’s president, he always had a love and talent for drawing and painting. And after working his ass off on his exhibit it would’ve been a crime for the vice president not to show up.

Steve promised if there was ever a day when Bucky’s writing became published he’d be by his side to celebrate too. As much as they liked to give each other shit sometimes about art and how they created it, the support was there through and through. The only catch for tonight was that he had to dress nicely to get into the gallery. So, instead of the usual leather jacket or vest he wore and jeans, he went with a plain black suit and white button up shirt.

He refused to wear a tie since it wasn’t a wedding. He had to draw a line somewhere. No one paid him any mind though as they walked around the gallery, and he was more than fine with that. This wasn’t his night.

“You should be proud, punk,” Bucky said, looking over the art lining the large wall, each piece crafted with care.

“I am proud, jerk,” Steve smiled. He hadn’t worn a tie either, and it made Bucky feel a little better. “And you know you don’t have to stay the whole time.”

Bucky knew that. He also knew members and prospects would be trickling in and out throughout the evening. “Not needed at the bar tonight, so I can stay as long as I want. But I might cut out early since I see your face enough between that and the club.”

Steve chuckled. “Still haven’t sold the place, huh?”

The brunette sighed. It wasn’t the first time Steve asked if he was going to sell the bar to focus more on writing. “Where the hell would you all hang out if I sold the place?” He liked the bar. It wasn’t just a great hangout for the club, but for his other regulars, too.

“There are other bars,” Steve teased. He said that, but he loved the bar, too. “You know I just want you to-”

“Follow my compass. I know. You’ve said that so many…” He stopped talking when he saw an unexpected angel walk into the room.

Well, angel was the word that came to mind since you were wearing a white dress and the light over your head illuminated you like a halo. But as his eyes swept over you, he wondered if there was a bit of a devil in you. He wouldn’t mind bringing that side out of you if you gave him the chance.

And here he used to think love at first sight was bullshit.

“Hey. Do you know her?” Bucky subtly nodded in your direction as you spoke to another woman, jealousy flaring up for a second at the thought of his best friend knowing you and not telling him. And if you knew Steve, that was that before things even started. While the blonde didn’t have much game growing up, he came into his own after his growth spurt, and everyone adored or wanted him.

Steve shook his head. “No, I don’t,” he said, making Bucky’s shoulders slump in relief before his friend scrutinized him. “Jesus, are you eye fucking her? You are, aren’t you?”

Bucky wasn’t the least bit ashamed. “And I’ll keep doing it ‘til she looks at me,” he replied, wishing you’d at least spare him a glance and get a look at him in his nice suit. Maybe you weren’t into guys with tattoos and piercings, but he was certain he could change your mind if that was the case.

“How long has it been since you’ve been on a date?” Steve asked. “Just introduce yourself like a gentleman and see where that goes.”

“A couple of months? Something like that.” Tearing his gaze away to glance at his inked hands, he chuckled. “You think I’m a gentleman?”

He could be dangerous and downright dirty when the occasion called for it, but just because he rode a motorcycle and covered himself in tattoos and piercings didn’t mean he treated others poorly. He was raised better than that. Even with his ex-girlfriends, things never ended because he didn’t treat them well. They just weren’t the one.

“We both know you are. Sometimes,” Steve answered, smirking as a beat passed. “And she’s looking your way.”

Bucky’s head snapped up to find you looking right at him with a curious stare. You had the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. Which was nothing compared to your smile. It was like watching the sun slowly rise to meet the day.

Fuck, he was being sappy. You ruined him with a single stare, and he wanted to ruin you in return. Make it so you wouldn’t want another man.

You whispered something to the woman beside you before she nudged you forward and he realized Steve pushed him to move, too. It only took three more steps before he was right in front of you, the gentle smell of your sweet perfume filling his nostrils. Need slammed into his body as you smiled again, and he actually felt the blue of his eyes shrink as his pupils widened.

If Steve thought he was eye fucking you before…

“Hey,” he said, his voice raspier than usual.

“Hi,” you said. It was a voice he could listen to for hours and he wondered what it would sound like when you said his name.

“I’m Bucky.” He took a smaller step closer, trying his damnedest to block out any other man around him so you’d keep those pretty eyes on him.

You introduced yourself, too, and it was a name he would never forget. “I like your tattoos,” you added almost shyly. Almost.

If he had his way, you’d see the rest of them soon enough. “Thanks,” he smiled, holding one hand up to show you. “Dressed like this, I bet you think I’m part of the mob.” After getting dressed and adding the gold jewelry, even he thought for a split second he looked like a mobster.

“Are you or is that information I can’t be privy to?” you asked, making him chuckle. You didn’t skip a beat, and he liked that.

“Not part of the mob, but I am part of a motorcycle club,” he replied. He wore his patch with pride and that didn’t seem to scare you, which was good. “I also own a bar.” He didn’t know why added that part. You didn’t ask and he didn’t want to brag, but there he was.

“So, you ride a motorcycle, and you own a bar?” You glanced back at your friend to ask her, “Do you mind if I…”

“I’m good. You two talk,” your friend smiled, giving Bucky an encouraging wink. He looked back to find that Steve walked away, too.

You smiled as you faced Bucky again. “Well, I’m happy to hear more about either of those things if you have time.”

“Yeah.” A lopsided smile appeared before he could stop it. “I got time,” he said. All the time in the world.

Over the next hour, the two of you stayed close together and talked in between looking at Steve’s pieces. He told you he was there to support Steve and talked a little bit more about the bar he owned. A hole in the wall kind of place he fixed up. While he wasn’t a big drinker, he loved making them for his regulars, and his profession allowed him to get away with all the tattoos.

“I’ll have to stop by sometime,” you smiled before it faltered. “If that’s okay.”

He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but his heart raced, and he wanted to see you smile again. “I’ll hold you to that,” he teased. “What about you? What do you do for work?”

You told him that you were a blood bank nurse and still fairly new to the area. While you didn’t have too many friends nearby, you liked your neighborhood and the one friend you had made invited you to the gallery since she was an art enthusiast. You also let it slip that you were single upon your move here, which he was happy to hear since he was, too, but he didn’t miss the note of sadness in your voice.

He could help fix it if you were lonely.

“I’m not seeing anyone either,” he stated.

You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You don’t have an old lady?” His eyes went right to your lip when he bit it. “That is the correct term of endearment, right?”

“That’s right,” he said, his eyes soft. “Both of those things are right.”

You bit your lip again and he wasn’t sure if you were purposely trying to entice him, but now he wanted to bite your lip. “So, do you do anything for fun outside of riding and work?”

He almost groaned when you said “riding” and he had to shake his head to keep his mind from drifting. He couldn’t think of you being on his bike with your arms wrapped tight around him or you riding him or anything like that. “Well…”

He explained that he wrote a bit in his spare time outside of work and the club. It was a hobby mostly, but it would be a dream come true to get his work out there one day. If not, that was okay, too, because he had a decent life and didn’t need much. His bike, his brothers.

But to have an old lady…

“Maybe I could read…” you frowned when you saw the time. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how late it was. I should get going,” you said, disappointment filling both of you.

“Oh.” He scratched the back of his neck. The two of you were having a nice talk, and he hadn’t had a chance to ask about your hobbies yet. “It’s still kinda early. Do you really have to go?” he asked, realizing just how desperate he sounded. God, if the prospects could hear him right now… He just didn’t want the night to end.

“Yeah, I do. I’m actually working a blood drive tomorrow and could use the rest,” you said, smiling sadly. He felt like an ass for asking you to stay when you had work to do. “I don’t know if you’ve heard anything about it, but you’re welcome to stop by if you want to donate. I always have this fear that people won’t show, which I realize sounds ridiculous.”

Bucky mentally kicked his ass for not knowing about a local blood drive. He was usually more on top of those sorts of things. “Where’s it at?” You gave the location and time, which was all he needed. “I’ll be there,” he promised.

And every single club member would be there, too, if they knew what was good for them.

“Really?” you smiled, your hand bumping his when you turned to face him. “You’ll go?”

He let his fingers brush yours and he smiled to himself when he felt the light shiver. “Of course, doll.”

“Doll?” you giggled. He hoped he didn’t offend you. “I hope you show,” you added in a small voice, your gaze focused on the ground.

Frowning a bit, he wondered if you didn’t believe him. Did someone let you down before? “If I say I’ll be there…” He lifted your chin, so you’d look into his eyes. He needed you to see the truth in them. “I’ll be there.”

You exhaled, staring deeply into his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you whispered.

He grudgingly released you, knowing he had to. Besides, if he kept touching you, there was a good chance he’d pin you against the wall and show you what a work of art you were. “Good night,” he whispered, watching you go back to your friend. She linked her arm with yours as you glanced back, keeping your eyes on Bucky until you were out of sight.

He exhaled, mentally kicking his ass again. Why the fuck didn’t he ask for your number? You two hit it off, and you wanted to see him at least in some capacity beyond the blood drive, right?

Steve made a beeline for him as he stayed rooted to the spot. “It looks like you two hit it off. You know you didn’t even say hi to Chris or Sam or-”

“We’re going to a blood drive tomorrow,” he cut in. He hoped people would show, but he gave you his word he’d be there, and the club was all about giving back to the community.

The blonde’s eyebrows pinched. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Blood drive. Tomorrow. Everyone,” he said, giving his friend a hard stare. “You’re the president. Make it happen.”

“You’re the vice president, which means you supervise plans for club events or gatherings. That includes last minute things,” he pointed out, his eyebrows shooting up as Bucky got his phone out and typed quickly. “You’re serious about this?”

“Is it too much to say, ‘You better fucking be there or you’ll pay for it later’?”

The blonde grinned. A shit-eating, knowing grin, and he wanted to smack him. “This is all for her, isn’t it?”

Bucky sighed. He hadn't expected to meet someone so perfect tonight. “She’s a nurse and I wanna help. Besides, it’s good for the community and you’re all about that shit.” And he had to make a better impression after not asking for your number. “Will you at least promise you’ll be there?”

“To watch my whipped best friend fawn over a pretty nurse? Hell yeah.”

“Beautiful,” he corrected him. “She’s beautiful.”

And while Bucky would fawn over you tomorrow, he also hoped he’d get your number.

So, what do we think so far? Part of this writing style was slightly different for me, but I like how it turned out! I still need to give this reader a nickname and the AU a name, but this is a start. I can't wait for the whole club to show up at the blood drive. I also have something silly and cute planned for these two. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[mmywanda]

Pretty When You Sleep — W.M

——

Pairing: Dark!WandaMaximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Nights are lot more dangerous than you think.

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, somnophilia, drugging, blood, murder, stalking, mentions of a knives, strap-on.

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: This is a dark fic, if you find any of the warnings triggering, please do not read. Happy Halloween! men & minors dni.

Beta read by @poulengp <3

——

It started off small.

All the shoes you left in a mess by the door now neatly stacked up, laces undone, just so they were easier to slip on. The lamp you'd accidently leave on before falling asleep, being off when you woke up in the morning. Clothes that were dumped on the floor, suddenly folded up in your drawer.

Then it got weirder.

Your purse being filled with fifty dollar bills on the mornings you worried you wouldn't have enough to afford your groceries. Some of your clothes, specifically underwear, going missing. Your phone being in the other room when you woke up. Waking up with different pyjama bottoms on.

As it got worse, you found yourself confiding in your friend. Well, a little more than a friend, but the two of you had never labelled it. The two of you sat in the corner of a local cafe, coffee warming up your hands. It was a cool autumn day, causing you to wrap up in a scarf and fluffy coat. This crimson coloured scarf had suddenly appeared in your closet, right when you needed it. It should have been wrong to wear something that had inexplicably appeared in your home, but it was cold, and what else were you to do?

"It's just getting weird. Even the leftovers in my fridge that were about to be mouldy are being thrown away. I see it in my garbage bag. And you know me, I don't even throw it out until it's literally gone blue."

Erin laughed, "You're quite careless. And disgusting." Yes, you were, but that wasn't the point!

"Shush. I'm actually worried here. I'm starting to think.. no.. no one can be breaking into my apartment every night, I'd wake up and hear them. God, I think I'm going mad." You mumbled, hand gripping tightly around the coffee mug. It reminded you of the time you'd left a cold cup of tea on the side, and had fallen asleep. When you woke up an hour later, the cup was hot, as if it had just been warmed up again.

"You've added another lock to your door, you don't even have a spare key for it. It's impossible for someone to break in. And you live on the top floor. Honey, you've been exhausted recently, it's not uncommon for people to get forgetful. You probably did those things while sleepy." Erin reassured you, placing a hand over yours.

You sighed deeply, downing the last drops of drink you had left, Erin doing the same. "Yeah, you're probably right. It's just.. strange."

—

As you entered your apartment late at night, instead of throwing your keys carelessly on a table, you decided to tuck them in the nightstand by your bed. Just to be safe, even if it was just for your own peace of mind. You jumped into the shower, cracking open the window so the steam could be let out. You lived on the top floor of your block, no one could look in, which was always a good thing because your bathroom got very steamy, recently the ceiling paper even curling at the side from the condensation. Making a mental note to look up the prices for someone to redecorate.

You really needed a shower today, you and Erin had gotten a little.. excited earlier, and it always made you cringe not showering before bed after an evening of sex. Under the warm water, you hummed a song you'd had stuck in your head all day. It was a song you didn't even recognise, in fact you weren't even sure you'd heard it before. All you knew was that it was in a different language, and it was comforting.

Once clean, you felt overwhelmingly tired, it had been a long day, so you decided to go straight to bed after having your usual cup of camomile tea, with two spoons of sugar. Then you got into bed. Before you could doze off though, you decided to read for a bit, opening up your latest novel of your favourite author. It can't have been too exciting though, because you fell asleep before the first chapter was over.

When dawn broke, the early sun breaking through cracks in your window, you stirred, blinking a few times. Something felt strange, like every morning for the past few months. You felt a stickiness between your thighs, and your pyjama bottoms were definitely not the ones you fell asleep in. You stared down at the light blue shorts, eyebrows furrowed. Were you a sleepwalker? No, your past roommates would have told you. Maybe you'd had a really good dream and just forgotten it? Fuck, this was weird.

Deciding there was nothing you could really do about the situation, you got up, opting to take another shower to get rid of the icky feeling.

It was when you were munching on your chocolate flavoured cereal that you heard your phone ping. Automatically, you put your spoon down, picking up the device you so heavily relied upon. It was a text from an unknown number, causing you to frown. Opening it, you saw there was a picture attached to the text. And when you examined it, your blood ran cold.

It was a picture of you, naked in bed. Your body spread out, intimate area completely exposed.

"What the fuck?" You whispered, reading what had come with it.

Unknown number: Three orgasms in one night, that's your record so far.

You didn't know what to think— someone had.. touched you while you were asleep? They broke in and did this to you? You shivered in fear, your shaky hands typing out a response before you could even think about what the police would say if you went to them; to not engage with a dangerous person.

You: Who the fuck is this?

There was no reply. Not when you left for work, not when you arrived home in the evening.

You were rigid with fear. A sensible person would have called the police, or at least called someone like Erin, asked to stay over, but you just couldn't. Every time you were about to dial a number, something inside you made you stop. You couldn't explain it.

So here you were, sat bolt upright on your couch. It was around eleven, and your eyes were growing heavy. Your camomile tea mug now empty, you blinked a few times, just aching to lay down and rest. No, you had to stay up! You had to see who had been breaking into your home. But.. you were so tired, a sudden wave of exhaustion washing over you. Your eyes closed slowly, slumping down and falling into a deep sleep.

—

The next morning the first thing you did was check your phone, seeing if the stranger had replied, and they had. Two images attached to a message. And what you saw horrified you. The first picture, one of you in bed, with a.. strap-on, buried inside you. It made you feel sick, that someone had done this to you unwillingly. Though the expression on your face, clearly asleep but pleasure in your features. You could even see your own arousal dripping down the toy.

The second image quite literally made you throw up, You ran to the bathroom, heaving into the toilet bowl as the picture burned in your mind. It had been someone laying on a floor, covered in blood, a knife wedged in their chest.

You had to go to the police. There was no choice now. For some reason, you looked back at the picture, and your mouth dropped open. That someone was a familiar.

It was Erin.

You just knew, it was her jacket, her brown eyes wide open in fear, her blue dyed hair drenched in her own blood. It caused you to throw up again.

—

"I—I think my best friend has been murdered."

You whispered in a shaky voice to a police officer who had sat you down in a cold grey room. After seeing what you'd been sent, not even reading the message that had come with it, you rushed down to the local police station, practically screaming for someone to talk to.

"Why do you suspect this?" He asked in a gruff voice. He didn't seem to be all that serious about the situation, upsetting you even further.

"I've got pictures! And texts!" Your fingers fumbled around your pocket to retrieve your phone, opening your messages app.

It wasn't there.

"So?" The officer prompted, clearly unimpressed.

"It was.. it was right here.." You mumbled, opening every contact you had in case it had magically gotten messed up.

But no, the messages had vanished.

"Look, lady, I think you should go home and get some rest. You look tired. Our minds make things up when we're lacking sleep."

"But—"

"Listen, if something happens, come back in. But for now, you're making empty claims."

Hanging your head down dejectedly, you fought back tears. You knew Erin was dead. You just knew it.

—

Tonight you weren't going to fall asleep. Just to make sure, you downed two mugs of strong coffee instead of your tea. You hated it, but you couldn't risk falling asleep. The intruder— the murderer, was going to break in, you were sure.

The time ticked on. Eleven o'clock, twelve o'clock, one o'clock..

Until your phone buzzed. Dread washed over you. There was no one else who would be making your phone light up at this time of night.

Unknown number: How am I meant to enjoy you when you don't have your tea? You look so pretty when you sleep.

This confused you. Why would they be concerned about what beverage you were drinking? You typed out a response quickly.

You: I'm not scared of you.

It was a stupid thing to say, you knew that really. But the only thing you could think of was to pretend you weren't scared. Maybe that would make them bored and leave you alone. All you could think about what Erin's lifeless body. The blood, god.. all that blood..

Unknown number: See you soon, sweetheart.

Your eyes widened in horror; what the fuck did that mean? This person was on their way? Sickness rose up in your throat, and you ran to your kitchen, grabbing the first sharp object you could find— a medium sized kitchen knife. You clutched it to your chest, running to your bedroom, locking the door and panting heavily. You considered pushing some furniture against the door, but you knew you needed to call the police. Then you realised you'd left your phone in the kitchen.

Fuck! Fuck!

You had put yourself in the worst position possible. But before you could panic over that, you felt a gust of cold air. You frowned, turning around to see the window wide open. You definitely hadn't left it like that before, but it was also impossible for anyone else to have opened it. You lived on the top floor for Christ's sake!

Not knowing what to do first; close the window, get your phone, block the door, or just curl up in a ball and hope it would all just go away. You opted for grabbing your phone. If you could call the police, they'd be on their way, hopefully before your stalker could arrive.

Cautiously unlocking the bedroom door, you stepped out into the hallway. The lights that had previously been on, were off, leaving the whole apartment pitch black apart from the moon shining through the windows and the bedroom light.

Your steps were slow, ears straining to hear anything, but there was silence. The only sound heard was the hammering of your heart in your chest.

Until the silence was broken.

"Seeing you awake is strange. But exciting nonetheless."

The voice came from right behind you. Spinning around in horror, you finally came face to face with the person who had been tormenting you.

"Tormenting? That's a bit harsh, sweetheart."

The woman was dressed in all black, a hood covering most of her face. Light from the bedroom accentuated her figure, but more importantly, the silhouette of a knife and a cloth in her hands.

"W—who are you?" It was an attempt at a shout, maybe to attract the attention of the apartment below you, but your voice could barely manage a squeak.

"I've told you before, baby. You're a forgetful thing when you're asleep, mhm?" She stepped forward, causing you to take a step back.

"You've been taking advantage of me! You've been breaking into my home! You killed.. Erin!" You whispered, backing up against the wall. You had no where to go. You were most likely to die, just like Erin.

"Sweet girl, I'm not going to kill you. I could never hurt you." The woman's voice was almost softer as she approached you, only two feet away now. Was she reading your mind?

"But you killed my friend." The images of Erin's body filled your mind, and how you were going to end up just like her.

"Your 'friend'? Please, she was begging for her own life, not for you to be safe." She let out a cold laugh. "It was so satisfying, the sound of my blade tearing through her flesh and tissue." It almost sounded like she'd gotten pleasure from it

Finally, you got some sense and energy into you as she expressed her fucked up feelings. You let out a shattering scream, "HELP! HELP!"

The woman sighed in disappointment. It took her less than a second to raise the cloth up to your face, covering your nose and mouth. The smell of chemicals was overwhelming. You fought against it, until you couldn't anymore. Body falling limp to the ground.

—

The noise that woke you up was the sound of a squeaking. Your eyes wouldn't open, wondering what was going on. You then felt something inside you, a pressure building up in your lower stomach. What—

Finally, your vision became clearer. You blinked a few times, looking around you. The scene became pretty clear.

The woman was in between your legs, a strap-on buried inside you, just like that photo. The squeaking was the bed as she thrusted into you.

You should have screamed, but the pressure in your abdomen was too intense. You let out a whine, trying to move your tired body, but it was useless. You didn't even want to stop it, it felt too.. good.

"You're awake." She stated, a slight pant in her voice. Her hood was down now, revealing her auburn wavy hair, pale skin and deep green eyes.

"Let me.." You trailed off, because you didn't know whether to say 'go' or 'come'.

She let out a chuckle, holding your hips firmly as she thrusted into you. The feeling was delicious. Something about the fact your body was sleepy, heavy, while being fucked by a woman so dangerous..

No! Why are you thinking like this? It almost felt like your thoughts weren't yours anymore. Were you going insane?

The woman grunted, wet noises filling the room, making it very apparent that your body did not hate this at all. "You can come for me, it'll be your third."

Your third? You couldn't even bring yourself to ask about it, your body just trembled, a pending orgasm taking over, making you whimper in delight.

"Fuck!"

Tears filled your eyes from the sheer pleasure, and the fact that you should have hated this. You were filled with so much shame and guilt. This was the person who had killed your best friend, who'd stripped you of your dignity.

"Shh, darling, you don't have to feel guilty. You're allowed to feel pleasure. And your friend, well, she was just in the way."

Her twisted words made you feel sick again, but you didn't have time to dwell on that because the woman's hand suddenly reached down and started to circle your clit while simultaneously thrusting into you. A loud groan escaped your throat, eyes practically rolling to the back of your head.

"You're going to beat your record, four times will be an achievement." Her accented voice was hot and heavy, turning you on even more.

"I— mhm!" You tried to speak, but you didn't know what to say.

"Let go, detka, show me how good I make you feel." She gripped your waist with her spare hand, red manicured nails digging into your skin.

Without warning, you came hard, spilling all over the strap. The woman moaned, slowing down her thrusts and eventually pulling out, leaving you unbearably empty. She slipped the strap off and went to straddle you, leaning her head down to kiss your neck. You felt utter bliss, forgetting how incredibly fucked up and sick this was.

"Seeing as this is the first time we've met while you've been conscious, I'll introduce myself. I'm Wanda." She giggled, as if nothing had just happened, and had been happening for months. Your head spun, recognising that name somehow, as if it had been spoken in your dreams.

"Relax now, sweet thing. I'll be here when you wake up." Wanda said softly, lying beside you, wrapping the duvet around your naked body. Her arm laid loosely across your stomach, hearing her breathing slow down to something calmer than before.

You didn't say anything, too busy feeling a wave of satisfaction, as awful as that sounded. It was like your mind was used to this, and that it was something you'd always wanted.

The last thing you remembered was a soft lullaby, in a language you didn't recognise. You'd heard it before, in your dreams. And it brought you great comfort.

——

Tags: @rezwrites @hatdog96 @ion-news @esposadejoyhuerta @moimmmm @grimlygoblin @lizziesflower @yandereloverb312 @beggingonmykneesforher

——

[miyukisu]

A Trace of Body Paint .ᐟ

❤︎ Request | He's learning anatomy for his art class—you'll help him, right? 3.1k wc ╰ feat. artist!shidou ryusei (bllk) x afab!reader

tags - lots of tension and build up at first, p*rn with plot, college au, artist! shidou, he and reader are both experienced, FILTHY, dirty talk, unprotected smeggs, rough smeggs, face f*cking, creampies, overstim, no y/n, not beta read

MEGA MASTERLIST

minors do not interact

"Yeah! I'll see you next week for my next assignment. Okay?"

Yeah right... next week...

You didn't peg Shidou as the type to flake on you, especially since he was the one who needed something from you. At first, you gave him the benefit of the doubt, then your mind wandered to impossible territory.

Maybe he found a different person to model for him.

Maybe you weren't good enough a model and he was getting low marks because of you...

But wouldn't that be his fault?

Maybe... he dropped out of class?

Every possibility crossed your mind, but not once did you think of actually asking him, "Hey, what's up with not calling me anymore to model for your art class? You know... THE THING WE DO WEEKLY?"

But pride does get the best of us. You are no different. Either the world ends or he grovels at your feet for ghosting you like that. Anyway, why did you care so much?

Shidou Ryusei only asked you to model for him for a few weeks for an art course he was taking. It just so happens you two were close and your schedules matched (and he thought you were really pretty). In exchange, he'd treat you after every drawing session. Ordinary stuff—that was until you slowly started to develop feelings for him.

There was something about the way he looked at you as he studied every minute detail—making sure they were all transferred to paper. He made you feel so... beautiful in ways you've never realized before. But most of all, you fell for such a creative and passionate spirit.

You were snapped out of your thoughts upon spotting a familiar hairdo across the quad. Your eyes met and you made sure not to waste this opportunity—glaring at him, making sure he knew how much he had pissed you off. Shidou looked left and right, possibly trying to find a way out of it. But maybe the intensity in your eyes worked because before you knew it—he was making his way to you.

"Hey..."

"Really? That's all you have to say after ignoring the texts I sent last week?"

"Eh... must've missed them," he lied.

"What about the time you saw me near your building? You missed me standing a meter away from you?"

"Guess so," he lied again.

His nonchalance made you want to rip your hair out. This hot-and-cold treatment was driving you up the wall. It was clear with the exasperated look on your face.

Though, his eyes never left yours—those same damn eyes that stared at you for hours. It was like there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't.

"Why did you even walk over here?"

He sighed like he didn't gave a shit. "You looked like you were about to murder me."

"Shouldn't you be running away then?" you countered. Shidou simply shrugged. "I'm not sure either."

You were about to unleash your fury, but he sighed loudly before continuing. "Fuck... fine. I've been avoiding you."

"Yes. I can clearly see that. The question is—why?"

"Look. I've been getting the highest scores in class because I have the luxury to have an actual person model for me... while everyone else relies on references on the internet or whatever," he explains. "But now... it's..."

"Isn't that a good thing then?" you asked—confused by his reasoning, but even more confused by his change in demeanor.

He shook his head. "Nah... it's just... I won't be needing you anymore."

Your jaw dropped. He said it so casually like it didn't just left a gaping hole in your chest.

"I mean," he backtracked. "We're gonna start drawing nude figures soon, so either you're willing to strip for me or—"

You cut him off. "Are you gonna draw my face with it?"

"Eh, all I need to draw now is the body since we're done with portraits and—"

You cut him off again. "Then draw me."

"Wha—" Shidou was cut off once more. "You heard me. Draw me," you say, as if challenging him.

It earns a hearty laugh from him—one you haven't heard in a while. "You're saying you're gonna stand butt naked in front of me while I stare at you for an hour or two? You know how that sounds, right?"

"It sounds like you're gonna stare at me butt naked for an hour or two."

You were so shameless, he thought. But it was one of the many things he liked about you. He chuckled, amused by the way things turned. Well... what kind of artist would he be to turn down such an enticing muse?

Shidou let out a low whistle as soon as the last article of clothing met the floor. You used to do these drawing sessions in the library—when all he had to observe from you were innocent things like your eyes, your hands, your hair, and so on.

But now that you have to bare everything to him, you figured the only place to do it was at his dorm. It was like what you imagined: cluttered but artsy enough that you could let it pass.

You stood awkwardly in the middle, feeling a bit chilly with nothing to protect you. But you posed, placing a hand on your hip while looking off to the side. That way, there wouldn't be any awkward eye contact.

Shidou sat down on a stool and quickly got to drawing. He said nothing as his eyes constantly flitted between the paper and your body.

The first few minutes in—you became hyperaware of everything. The fact that he was seeing absolutely everything. The absurdity of this entire situation. But most of all, the way your body was reacting to his gaze.

From your peripheral, you could see his gaze linger a bit too long at times. He'd bite his lower lip every so often and it made you feel conscious. Was he doing that because he could see your nipples hardening due to the temperature? Maybe he noticed the way you'd subtly rub your thighs together?

Whatever it was—it had him clearing his throat and shifting in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable.

Around 15 minutes pass, until he finally spoke. "Feeling tired yet?" he asked without looking up from his paper. You figured he was applying the final touches at this point.

"Yeah. A bit."

He hummed in response. "Get comfortable on my bed then."

"What? On your bed? Now?"

Shidou looked up from his paper. At this point both of you were desensitized by your nakedness (or so you thought). "Yes. Now. I have to draw you in at least 3 poses."

Three?

You gulped. But, once more, pride creeps up. You can't just challenge him to draw you naked so boldly—only for you to back down now. You gathered yourself and sat on his bed which was only a few steps away.

"Go on. You can get comfortable," he encouraged.

So you did. You lied down on your side, propping your head up on your hand. The scene that had unfolded reminded you of that one Titanic scene: Rose sprawled out for Jack to draw.

Knowing that, the moment felt too intimate. But you sucked it up... even though there was an unwanted wetness forming at your core.

Shidou shifted in his seat again, lowering his paper on his lap. "Alright, keep that position," he said, a bit strained.

In this position, you couldn't look off to the side. Your only option for the next few minutes was the wall behind him or Shidou himself.

At some point, your eyes met. There was something in his eyes you've never seen before. It wasn't the usual focus he had; it was something else. Something more intense.

But the 2nd pose passes soon enough and you were down to your last.

"What should I do now?"

He sighed, looking over his current sketches. "Lemme think. I'm having a hard time getting the details right."

"Maybe it's because you're sitting so far away," you commented—not thinking about what it implied.

His eyes zeroed in on you again—caught by your words. You want him to come closer with you like that and him slowly losing his composure? You were playing a dangerous game and you had no idea yet.

Shidou finally stood up from his chair, walking over to the bed. You weren't sure if it was just your imagination, but he was hard. His length strained against his fitted pants. The sight had your mouth watering.

He sat down beside you, eyes never leaving yours. The atmosphere seemed charged with the way you two found yourselves slowly leaning into each other.

"You look great," he whispered. It was something he always said in these sessions. It was a rather simple compliment. But it held more weight now.

"Thanks," you meekly responded. Neither of you realized how fast he inched towards you. His lips were a breath away. You showed no signs of backing away, so he went in.

He pressed his lips on to yours. The kiss felt hungry—needy almost—like he was fighting off this urge for so long. Before you knew it, his weight pushed you down on the softness of his bed. His scent enveloped every sense, clouding your judgement.

Shidou pulled away, breathless. "Pose like this."

He sat upright, eyes raking over your body. This time, he didn't hide the way his gaze would linger on certain parts. His hands ran down your legs, admiring the softness of your skin.

Then, without warning, he pried your legs open. But you didn't stop him. His pink irises trailed down to your core, seeing how wet you've gotten. Shidou thought he was drooling.

"Fuck... I wish I could draw this."

You feel your chest tightening. "Why not?"

"And let everyone see this?" his fingers ghosted over the skin of your inner thigh. "No chance in hell. I want to be the only one to appreciate my muse."

He let his thumb swipe through your folds softly before pressing lightly into your clit, earning a mewl from you. He kept circling the sensitive nub as if in a trance.

"I know what I want the last pose to be," he says. You moan a little louder as he rubs your clit faster. "Want your last pose to be you all fucked out... think you can do that?"

Words got caught in your throat. But it hardly mattered. It didn't seem like he'd take 'no' for an answer anyway.

Things escalated quickly because you soon found his finger plunging in and out of your quivering hole. He made sure to curve it in a way—relentlessly hitting that gummy spot on your walls.

He added another finger, wanting to hear more of your breathless moans reverberating throughout his room. To hell with it if his neighbors heard. This was music—it was art in its purest form.

"Shit... might just cum in my pants from this." He almost did after you clenched down on his fingers, cumming for the first time today.

Even as you coat his digits with your essence, he keeps pushing his fingers in and out until the fluttering died down a bit. He pulled his sticky fingers out before having a taste, savoring every last bit.

He made quick work of his belt, pulling down his pants and letting his member out. Your eyes widened. Not only was his size impressive, but his tip was incredibly swollen and leaky—like he couldn't wait anymore.

Shidou exhaled deeply, feeling the chill of his room brush over the sensitive length. He locked eyes with you again. "Care to take care of me a bit? My hand hurts from all that drawing... and... well, you know what else."

Normally, you'd bite back at his teasing. But your mind was fuzzy. All you could do was wrap your fingers around his length, slowly tugging it at first. The pleasure he felt after being so hard for so long took the strength from him. He almost fell on top of you if it weren't for his thick arms supporting him from either side of you.

"C'mon... do it fucking faster," he ordered. You obeyed—jerking him off as fast as you can without hurting him. It wasn't long before his own hand wrapped around yours as he continued to fuck into your fist. Next thing you knew—hot ropes of cum painted your stomach.

Even he was in a daze as he observed a part of him stained you in such an intimate way. He slowly leaned in, his breath fanning your face. "Hey, can I paint you like this? You look even better with my cum all over you."

You let go of his semi-hard member, slowly tracing his muscles up until you cupped his cheek. Gently, you pulled him down for a searing kiss. It was more than enough for him to know that you too wanted more.

He became rougher—biting your lip and fighting your tongue for dominance. As you pulled away for air, Shidou moved quickly to straddle your upper body. He shamelessly took his cock and slapped it against your lips a couple of times.

"Gonna have to help me get hard again, sweets. Help me out, won't you?"

Though he didn't really give you time to respond as he invaded your mouth inch by inch. One hand held the headboard while the other supported your head. He rolled his hips slowly, gauging how much you can take in at a time.

But, clearly, he underestimated you when you gripped his hips and pulled him in yourself. You felt his cock spring back to life steadily. He pulled out his hardened shaft, letting you breathe. It was only now you realized the grin that crossed his face. He was enjoying this way too much.

He went back to hovering over you, his cock bouncing at every move he made. Your body was jelly at this point—not even a bit of resistance as he flipped you over so easily. He licked a long stripe from your lower back up until your nape. The fresh saliva combined with the chilly air made you shudder.

He carelessly lifted up your hips. With your cheek pressed into his pillows and your ass up in the air, he only got harder at the sight. He leaned down to be eye-to-eye with this so-called masterpiece, your cunt.

His nimble fingers toyed around with your soaked folds, chuckling to himself. "Man, I don't think I could ever capture something so damn beautiful."

He gave it a quick lick to test. "Well, unless you let me get familiar with her long enough." Another lick. "Maybe I can capture at least half of its beauty." Another lick. "Don't you think?"

A muffled sound was the only thing he got from you. "Yeah? You're gonna let me get to know her? As an artist, I'm overjoyed right now. Maybe I should show you."

And show he did.

He lapped up at your arousal, tongue licking long stripes each time. Your legs threatened to give out every time he flattened the pink muscle against your twitching hole. It didn't take long before he started darting in and out. Helpless groans filled his small dorm room.

Big calloused hands squeezed the flesh of your ass, making sure you stayed in place for him to enjoy. He was so messy... so so messy. Shidou suckled on your clit—really trying to coax another orgasm from you.

It didn't take much more for you to cum again, but this time all over his mouth. He happily took in everything, reaping the fruits of his labor.

He gave your ass one quick kiss as if to show his thanks. But he wasted no time lining up his painfully erect cock against your entrance. "Fuuuuck, I need to be inside you already or I'm actually going to explode," he muttered.

At first, it was just the tip. But it stretched you out so good already. The needy whine that escaped you was a testament to that. It only made him grip your hips tighter, surely leaving a mark for you to see tomorrow. Carefully, he pushed in more of his length, feeling every bump of your pussy engulf him.

"Shit. This is the stuff."

But he got impatient, shoving in the rest of his length without warning. It was so tight, so warm—too inviting for him to handle. His hands left your hips, opting to find support on the mattress instead. His thick arms caged you as his chest pressed against your back.

He continued to whisper the filthiest things in your ear, kissing your neck occasionally. But for as slow and sensual his voice may seem, his hips snapped with reckless abandon. He wasn't shy about giving you your third and, maybe, fourth orgasm of the day while chasing his own.

"You finally understand why I didn't want to ask you?"

"Yeah... I knew I was gonna end up fucking you real hard."

"But this is so much better than what I imagined."

His words brought you over the edge, cumming again. But the overstimulation rendered you thoughtless. The only thing on your mind was how good he was dicking you down.

"Fuck... Ryu!" you screamed. His grin only grew wider.

"That's it. Scream my fucking name. Let them hear it."

Your wanton moans encouraged him to go faster, mercilessly pistoning into you. It wouldn't be a surprise if you came another time on his cock.

Shidou harshly grabbed your tit, hoisting both of you up into a sitting position. This way, his cock reached even deeper into you. He kneaded your neglected breast while keeping you steady by the waist.

He showed no signs of slowing—even reaching down to play with your clit. A tear was rolling down your face from how sensitive he made you. But he quickly licked the salty tear off of the curve of your cheek.

He whispered softly, "Cum with me."

Just like the obedient muse that you were, you did. You clamped down on him as he shot rope after rope of gooey seed into you. Finally, he slowed down a bit, letting him empty himself in your pulsing cunt.

As you calmed down and he softened, he gently laid you back down on the soft mattress of his bed. He watched as his cum oozed out of you, smirking to himself.

"My best piece of work yet."

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note WHAT THE FUCK DID I WRITE DAWG I WAS SO ON EDGE THE WHOLE TIME HELP WHY IS IT SO FILTHY

[secretaccountlol]

Tell me i’m good while im weak.

GENDER-NETURAL READER X MARK GRAYSON.

This is a smuttyyy Drabble 18+ no minor plz!

Warnings? : Dom!Reader x Sub! Mark. Reader does call mark some names and teases him a lot. Mark is..a pervert in this lol and soooo pathetic. Also degradation and praise galore. He also like.. lies bout bein sick lol.

Synopsis: Mark has a kink. Praise and degradation, and once you find out you're happy to help him out with it.

I got a beta reader in this hoe! Shout out to lovely, wonderful, stunning @sobbingscripter

Thank her ! Now you won't be subjected to my horrible dyslexia lmao

—-

Author note; Now,, all I kinda went lil crazy with the dialogue, it's like filthy?? Srry if he's a lil OOC, I just wanted to write a down right pitiful mark.. and I think I succeeded!

This is my first ever invincible Drabble! I don't tend to do them very often, so enjoy. Hey btw .: I like comments and reblogs tell me what you think okay?

Mark has a praise kink. You didn’t realize it at first,of course.

Who just randomly daydreams about their good friend’s kinks, not you, at least not intentionally.

It started simple, you had tutored Mark. With all the new hero shit he’s been thrown through, getting his grades up in college was the most difficult thing for him.

That’s when you graciously helped; late night study sessions with him after missions, early morning calls to go over answers before exams.

An unexpected call at 8:30 am in the morning wakes you, and it's Mark screaming about the 80 he just got on the test, worth 60% of his grade.

Your sleepy grin is all you remember as you promise to bring celebratory drinks later, “Good job, Mark! I knew you could do it!”

He pauses before you yawn, letting him know you’re going back to sleep now.

You don’t notice the breathy, stuttered goodbye he says as the phone clicks off.

Next time you're at Comic Con; he’s dressed as Séance Dog, you didn’t tell Mark what you were gonna be dressed as, with you adamant of it being a surprise for him.

His breath falters when he sees you, your legs out and oiled in a “sexy” invincible leotard.

“Surprise~”

Thank god, he was sitting and he had a cape because the boner he popped was massive.

“You look great!”

Your giggle pinpoints his cock, “You look even better, what a good boy you are!” You ruffle his hair, his eyes widen.

“Wha— good boy?”

“Oh, pfft sorry—, cus you're Seance Dog! He’s a dog, dogs are always good boys!”

“Right right right,” Mark’s ears burned, think cold thoughts, think cold thoughts.

“Speakin’ of, the panel of authors and animators is about to start. We need to get there like now, cus I already know people are fightin’ over seats.”

You skip off, not bothering to look behind you, and thank god because if you did, your eyes would be glued to the fucking snake in his pants.

‘ they said I'm a good boy, i'm a good boy, ’ kept chanting in his mind.

His cock did not know a moment of peace that night, with your words echoing through his mind.

His bedsheets dripped with sweat and cum as his cock softened for the 12th time.

Used tissues littered his room as he milked the last bit of cum.

Your phone call shakes him out of his sex haze, it’s a daily ritual of y’alls. You talk about your day and he does the same, trying to keep a sense of normalcy, with him being a hero, it’s hard to see each other every time.

You again, don’t notice his wavering voice as his hands pick up the pace again. His poor cock is beaten to hell, as the sloppy noises fill his room, his mouth press in a thin line.

“Mark, you okay?”

“Yea— yesyesyes, I’m okay…”

Your brow furrows, “Okay, we don’t have to keep talkin’ y’know? I can hang up if your bus—“

“Nonononono, please don’t hang up!” His words rush out in a whimper before he can stop himself.

“Okay! Jesus! ‘M sorry I won’t hang up. You're a needy lil thing today, aren’t ya?”

Mark whines, an honest to god whine. Silence insues, he fucked up.

“Mark, are you sick or somethin’?”

“I— I.. yes!” Mark does a terrible fake cough, “Mmhn, ‘m catchin’ a cold”

“Aww poor baby..”

A whimper slips through his lips, “yes, yeah yeah… mhn… poor me.”

“Wan’ me come over and take care of you, ya big baby?”

“Yesyesyes please,” another muffled plea from Mark as his fingers brush the tip of his head..

“Okay, I’m on my way with chicken soup!”

*Click*

Mark blinks, a dopey smile plays on his lips.

Oh shit.

Oh god, he wasn’t thinking straight, he’s not even sick! His bed creaks from the sudden upright movement.

His eyes darted around his room, oh shitshitshit.

His body zips around his room as he picks up his tissues and throws his soiled sheets in the washer, putting fresh linens on in the span of a second.

The next second, you were already knocking at the door.

“Maaarkkk, you in there buddy?”

His hands move in frenzy, rubbing his nose as hard as he can to make it a rosy red, jogging side to side to give himself a sweaty appearance, and finally a wet, cold folded cloth placed over his forehead before unlocking the door and hastily making his way back to his bed.

Clearing his throat before he speaks, mustering up his best “sick” voice, “Doooorss opppewwennn!!”

The door whines as you enter, Mark’s ears twitch as he hears you set down the homemade soup.

Clashing dishes in the kitchen before your feet shuffle into his room.

Your eyes ooze sympathy when you see his face.

“Awe, my poor baby.”

Mark throws out a helpless whine as he motions grabby hands for you to come to him.

“‘M sooo siick.., think I got somethin’ from space travelin’ too much.”

You back up slightly, “you’re not— like contagious are you?”

Mark shakes his head rapidly, shit. ‘Think, think, make up a lie, make up a lie.’

“Noooo, uh—“ he coughs, “Robot says it isn’t..annd who am I to argue with a super genius!” He coughs another time, for good measure.

“Uh okay!” You slink back over to him, flopping down next to him. “Here, big baby open your mouth up for soup.”

Mark’s mouth opens with a pop, light pink adores his cheek, god he’s pathetic.

“God, you’re shameless, aren’t ya?”

“Immm sickkk—!” He’s definitely milking it, but can you blame him, hearing you pity him like this, it gets him going.

”It’s kinda cute,” you spoon more liquid into his mouth. “I like takin’ care of your needy ass.”

“You do?” His eyes flutter, if he wasn’t ‘sick’, you’d mistake his tinted cheeks as a blush.

“Mm, yeah I like taking care of my friends and family. Plus, you take care of the whole galaxy, Mark. The least I can do is look after you when you need it.”

Mark blinks, then blinks again.

“Sorry layin’ it on too thick? My bad.” You pull back the spoon trembling slightly, the soup swishing around.

His hand hastily grabbed your wrist, “No no not at all, please praise me more.”

“What?”

“Praise me ..more, please”

Your heart burns, bubbling with desire. Shit, should you feel this way about your best friend especially when he’s sick? Is he even in the right headspace?

“You’re.. such a good hero, Mark. I feel so safe when you're around.”

Mark’s breath caught, “‘more?” His fingers squeeze your wrist softly, then release.

“Mark, you’re not — you’re not in the right headspace you aren’t.. you don’t know what you’re sayin’...” your hand caresses over his as you lick your lips.

“If— if I was in the right headspace, would you?”

You bite your lip, sighing “ Yes.. yes—“

“I’m not sick.”

“What?”

“I’m not sick, I lied. Please praise me now.”

Your arms snatch away from him, “You little liar!”

He pouts, sitting up, removing the cold towel. “I wanted you to take care offf meeee!”

“You could’ve just asked, I’d come over regardless!”

Your arms cross against your chest, “you don’t even deserve my homemade soup!”

Mark whines again, “nooo I like your souuup!”

“Why’d you lie! If you like my soup you, again. Could’ve just asked!“

“I—..it’s cus I don’t know! I just thought.. I just couldn’t think of anything else..to get you here.”

“Mark..” your eyes rake over his face. A cute pout plays on his lips and his brows furrowed like a puppy being scolded.

“I just .. mm, thought if I played sick you’d praise me more..”

“Oh..? Oh!” You kiss your teeth, as you stare at your best friend.

“Mark, lift your bed covers for me real quick.”

“Why..” his eyes narrow.

“I think you know why—“

“Noooope.”

“Dude, you totally have a boner right, don’t you?”

“No— I- don’t know what you’re talkin’ about!”

You shift your eyes to the rising spot in the covers, point a finger, “Right.. uh-huh..” your face deadpans.

His legs shoot to his chest nearly knocking the wind outta of him.

“Shit.”

“You’re a fuckin’ pervert dude! Wait wait! Is that why you sounded like that over the phone? Oh my god were you—?”

Mark's eyes dart away from yours, bury his face in his hands after.

“Oh my god, you were! You were jerkin’ off to my voice!” The shrill of your voice carried through his apartment.

“I— SHHH! Keep your voice down!” Mark grabs your collar, the jerky movement causes you to bend over him awkwardly, your chest over his lap.

“Augh- sorry! Shit sorry. I — just— “

Your hand brushes against his cock as you sit up, a strangled groan graces your ears as he grabs your hand again.

“Sorry again— uh don’t touch ther—uh!”

Your other hand grips his covered cock running your fingers over it.

“Tsk no, Mark, isn’t this what you wanted?”

“I— “

Devious grin splits your face as you rip the covers off him, a rush of cold air cools his body, your eyes stare at his boner.

“Ha, got a third leg here, huh?”

“Dude— this is so embarrassing, please don’t tease me..” his hands tug across his face as he speaks.

“Nahh, you said you wanted to be praised, right?”

Another whimper slips past his lip.

“Mark, be a good boy for me, use your words.” God, you were having too much fun mocking him.

“Fuckkk! Don—don’t talk like that!”

Your hand inches into his thin boxer, a hiccup in his breath as you cup his cock.

“You sound so pretty right, you know that?”

“Mmhn no— I “

“No, you’re right, you sound so deliciously pathetic right, I never thought I’d hear you this way.” Your lips ghost the side of his face as you start to pump, a soft sob bubbles from him.

“Imagine everyone knowing the mighty Invincible is such a whiny bitch in bed, hm?”

“Stooopp being meaaan!” Mark’s pitiful wails heighten as his cock twitches in your hands.

“Oh, so you like bein’ degraded and praise? Tsk, what a combooo..!”

“I don’t—! I- just your voice and I’m- I’m over—whelmed! Right now, okay!”

“I’ve barely touched you and you’re throbbing like you’re about to blow, are you? Hm?” Your tongue drags against his ear as your lazy tugs cloud his mind.

“ ‘m nooot! “

“Okay, can you be a good puppy for me and only cum when I tell you to?”

“Uh-huh, yesyes,” his throat bobs, “I can— I can be a good boy, please.”

“Aw okay, I believe you,” your lips slip down his neck, earning another groan, your teeth nip his skin.

“Let’s see how long you can hang on.”

oh, he was fucked.

You realize, he doesn’t just have a praise kink, he has a degradation kink too.

—

[benispunk]

New Perfume

logan howlett x reader

You changed your perfume and Logan noticed.

A/N: the context is I woke up this morning thinking about this and...yeah that was a good wake up call. This was written in a few minutes somehow and it's not beta read.

TW: NO SMUT but pretty suggestive.

Masterlist

It started with you just walking past his room in the hallway.

Logan heightened senses made him able to smell everything, from any distance, in any situation.

To say he was sensitive to smells was an understatement.

Whether it was a bad or a good scent, the sensory overload could be too much.

It had never happened like that though.

Perfumes.

He loved a good perfume.

Not because he was a pro at it, god no. He would rather die than enter a perfumery. Scratch that, he would die if he entered one.

But sometimes, when a woman passed by and she had perfume—and you could still smell her body’s smell—oh, he was gone.

But never like this.

Never this much.

You passed by his door everyday. Hell, you were in his arms everyday. He could recognise any kind of smell on your body. Anything. From the shampoo in your hair to the chocolate stain on your finger that you didn’t notice after baking the most delicious chocolate cake he had ever eaten, to…well…let’s say he could really smell anything.

And your perfume…

There was nothing like it. Truly.

He had no idea if it was because of your body smell in the first place or if it was just because this perfume was perfection for your skin but…he was in love with it the moment it reached his nose.

So when that morning he smelled you passing by and the smell was different…

The man was on a mission.

Moments later, he found you in the School’s kitchen and once he made sure no one was around, he walked like a predator behind you. Because the smell…

Oh. It was delicious.

He approached you, slowly, quietly. He was right behind you. You still hadn’t noticed him, too busy making your little morning toasts you loved to have for breakfast.

You felt his hands around your waist first, which made you jump and look upwards which gave him the perfect access to your neck as he pressed his face there and he just…sniffed.

He was like a damn dog. Smelling you over because something was different. Not usual. But definitely good for sure.

He couldn’t stop. Even if he wanted to—and he didn’t—he couldn’t possibly get his nose away from your skin.

Because you had changed your perfume and for some reason it was better than the last one which was already the most perfect fucking scent he had ever smelled in his entire—way too long—life.

He knew you were talking to him but he was focused. He needed to smell you like he needed to breathe air. It was vital.

You let out a small laugh, still slightly breathless from the surprise of his touch.

"Good morning to you too," you murmured, resting your hands over his where they held your waist. "What's gotten into you?"

Logan didn’t answer right away. His nose was still buried against your neck, eyes closed, completely focused. His stubble scratched lightly against your skin, and you felt the slow, deep inhale he took, like he was trying to memorize every molecule of you.

"It's new," he finally muttered, voice rough like gravel, like it was dragging itself out of his chest. "You changed it."

You tilted your head a bit to the side, giving him more access without even thinking. "Yeah. I ran out of the other one, and I found this little bottle I hadn't used before. You like it?"

Logan groaned, deep and guttural.

"Like it?" he echoed, lips brushing your skin. "Sweetheart, next time you think about changing your perfume, tell me first."

You raised an eyebrow, amused. "Why?"

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes from behind, and the look he gave you was absolutely sinful. 

His hands pressed just a little tighter against your hips, grounding himself.

"Cause I wasn't ready to get this hard first thing in the goddamn morning."

Your jaw dropped, then you snorted. "Logan!"

He didn’t even blink. "I'm serious."

"I can tell," you teased, shifting slightly back against him on purpose, just to be mean. The sound he made in response was somewhere between a growl and a curse.

"You think this is funny?" he said, his lips finding the spot just below your ear again, voice dropping to something dangerously low. 

"You think smelling like this and walking around like it's not a crime is funny?"

You laughed again, and he huffed against your neck, like he was trying to stay calm but utterly failing.

And then, softer, almost shy under the heat of it all, you said, "You really like it that much?"

His response was instant.

"I like you that much."

That shut you up real quick. Your heart stuttered, and Logan felt it—his senses caught everything. Your breath hitching, your chest rising just a little faster. His arms tightened around you instinctively.

And just like that, the air between you changed.

"I'm not done smelling you," he murmured. "But not here."

You swallowed, your voice suddenly quieter. "Then… where?"

He smirked against your skin.

"My room."

You blinked, glancing down at the half-buttered toast still sitting on the counter.

"Wait—what about my toast?"

Logan paused, eyes flicking from your breakfast to your face, like he was weighing the options. And then, shamelessly, completely serious:

"As selfish as this sounds… I need my breakfast first."

Your mouth fell open, scandalized. "Logan—"

But he was already pulling you with him, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, his nose back against your neck like he couldn’t be without it. And honestly? 

You weren’t complaining.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmured with a smirk. "I'll make you another one after."

You were still laughing softly as he led you out of the kitchen, your half-forgotten toast cooling behind you, the smell of your perfume trailing after you like a secret only he got to keep.

And yeah.

Maybe Logan wasn’t into perfumes.

But yours?

Yours would ruin him every time.

XXX