#WHO IS GOING TO A RETIREMENT HOME IN THE MORNING FOR A WHOLE MONTH TO REST UP

[ndcgalitzine]

my lower back is killing me AND I I must confess... THIS IS THE WORST PAIN I'VE EVER FELT EVEN WORSE THAN CHILDBIRTH WTF SOMEBODY SEDATE ME

[yawn-emoji]

[thewritetofreespeech]

aemond - prompt 1

Prompt list - 1. Breeding kink

------------------------------⚔️---------------------------------

“Up! Up!”

“Up! Up!”

“Hehe…you’re both too big now for me to carry the both of you on my hip like before. Why don’t we flip a coin then? Heads Jaehaerys you can go first, and tails means Jaehaera can go. Sound like a fun game?”

Aemond watched from the table with his family as his wife made a deal with his niece & nephew. Completely fair. Void of favoritism. He remembers no such favors from his own childhood.

His wife was wonderful with the children. As one of the few Helaena let near them in recent months, due to some new fear she had concocted in her mind, Jaehaera & Jaehaerys clung to her like shadows. Even Maelor, still at his mother’s breast, would swing his fat little arms in his wife’s direction every time she passed. And she never missed an opportunity to give him attention or affection whenever he, or any of the children, clamored for her.

“Everything alright Aemond?”

His trance was broken by her words when she returned to him. Whatever deal or game they had struck over now as a nurse came to put the children to bed. Aemond nodded. Dreams of his own silver-haired babes following her around, tugging at her skirts, in need of constant attention from that sweet face drift out of his mind like dragon’s wings on the horizon. “Yes. I am fine. Let us retire for the evening as well.”

The sun would be up soon. He couldn’t see it from the window, but just felt it in his soul. That time of night that was more the wee hours of the morning. Where the darkness would finally break to the light.

They haven’t slept at all. Rested, but not slept. Sleep seemed immaterial in comparison to the need to fill her again & again. Sleep, water, food, air. All of it seemed trivial as he was a man possessed with possessing her.

“Aemond….please….no more….”

“Just once more.”

His wife whined as his cock still inside her slid back and into her again. One bout giving way to another with truly no rest in between this time.

He was consumed with making his dream a reality. Fill her with so much of him that his child would have no choice but to take root in her belly. They could have a babe come spring. Or a sweet summer child with his pale violet eyes and his mother’s gentle disposition. Aemond thrust harder into her, as if driving the idea home with his cock, making his wife cry out. “Ah! Aemond! Oh Gods!”

She wouldn’t have to take care of Aegon’s children anymore. She would have her own babes to keep her busy. They would be strong and perfect. In constant need of their mother like he was. Maybe she would give him twins like Helaena gave his brother? If his fragile sister could do it, surely his wife could do it too. Judging by the cum spilling out of her onto the already soiled sheets, Aemond had given her more than enough opportunity.

“Aemond….Aemond….”

She couldn’t say much more than his name now and moan. Good. There shouldn’t be any thought of others or anything but the two of them as they made their child.

He looked down at the woman who was going to give him his future and found a blank slate there. Broken with pleasure. Those intelligent, bright eyes black and hazy with lust. Disheveled to the point of madness by his own mad need to put a babe inside her.

He leaned down to kiss her rough, swollen lips and swallowed a whine from his princess. He felt her breath quicken against his lips and her walls quake around him. Her overstimulated body climaxing with even the most minor addition of stimuli between them at this point.

Aemond came just short after that. One final push. Spilling his seed just as deep as the rest before he finally, eventually, let his wife go.

He fell to the other side of the bed, listening to her gasp for breath beside him, before he got up and went to retrieve a rag for the two of them. His wife hiccupped out a gasp when the cool material touched her feverous skin. Her whole-body twitching as it was still too overstimulated to determine how the touch was intended. Aemond cleaned her body starting with her arms. Moving down to her breasts, imagining them larger and fuller in just 4 moons time, then down to her belly that would do just the same. She whined when he gently wiped at her overly sensitive cunt. Red and swollen. His seed still glistening in the folds. He doesn’t want to get rid of it but knows she would be uncomfortable sleeping like that. Aemond had already made her uncomfortable enough for one evening.

He cleaned himself off with much less care and crawled back into bed beside his wife. She willingly came to him when he pulled her in his arms. Or perhaps she was too exhausted to think and just went along with him. Her body still twitching now & then, even in her sleep, from the frenzy he just put her through.

He kissed her head, then covered them with whatever clean blanket he could find.

Come spring they would have a child of their own. A silver haired paragon, who would take Vhagar after he was gone and be his legacy for when his bones became ash. After that, they would work on another. Then another. Then another. His branch would flourish as much as his great-grandfather, and they would build their family to the point that they did not need any others but their own.

He almost felt bad for Jaehaera & Jaehaerys. Soon they would not have their wonderful aunt to dote on them. But his children, and his family, would be what came first.

[xoxojuyo]

Nanny | jjk (m)

✦ summary: you take a babysitting job for the wealthy Jeon family, one night you get to see Mr. Jeon in the kitchen, finding him much more attractive in person than in photos. Despite his seemingly disinterest in you, he comes to you one night, summoning you to his studio.

✦rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

✦ pairing: dilf!Jungkook + f!reader

✦ warnings: married!jungkook, dad!jungkook, he is a father of two, older!jungkook, power imbalance relationship, he is your boss’s husband, mistress!reader, cheater!jungkook, swearing, kissing, boob play, finger licking, slight choking, fingering, degradation, penetrative s3x, no mentions of contraceptive use, he cums inside.

✦word count: 3.5K

✦a/n: this is written in first person, oopsie. hope you enjoy.

The clock indicates 9PM as I tiptoed out of the children's room, my steps light and cautious, mindful not to wake the little ones. I was the Jeon’s trusted babysitter.

My sister worked as Mrs. Jeon personal trainer. The woman would spend her whole day at the country club, pilates in the morning, then tennis and swimming lessons at the afternoon. She spent zero time with the kids, she is finally home after 7pm, but it was almost like she warded off her kids, I’m convinced she hates interacting with them, at nights she went to her room or to the patio to have dinner while FaceTiming an unknown man, that was my second hint that she could be cheating on Mr. Jeon, actually at that point I was pretty convinced. She went out with her friends during the weekend nights, going on clubs, bars or some girls night, she always had a plan, some days she wouldn’t come back until Monday morning, with her hair tangled and unkempt, pumps off and a dry colorless face.

She had fired the previous babysitter after she found out she was stealing some of the kids clothing and selling them online, she was an old lady who pretended to be a retired and experienced children psychologist, Mrs. Jeon never cared enough to read her resume, turns out she wasn’t, and it only took the effort of googling her name to find news about her other scams on rich families pretending to be a kind babysitter, and not only she was stealing the kids’ clothes, also Mrs. Jeon’s jewels.

Shortly after she hired a young kindergarten teacher, only lasted a week. Mrs. Jeon thought she was too flirty when she greeted her husband, truth is she never saw them interact, it might be the fact that the girl had a rising onlyfans page that Mrs. Jeon found about because the gardener had recognized her, and also because she was an impolite vegan, the girl demanded rudely to the chef to make her a special vegan meal, so Mrs. Jeon told her to not come back the next day.

Once the door clicked softly shut behind me, I let out a quiet sigh of relief. Babysitting could be exhausting, but I cherished these moments of tranquility after the children had drifted off to dreamland. I made my way to the cozy living room, settled onto the plush sofa, eager to enjoy a few moments of relaxation.

My sister received a call for help from Mrs. Jeon. Desperate because if she didn’t find a new babysitter before the kids finished their school day she had to stay with them for the rest of the day. My sister said she sounded as if someone had died, in complete panic. I got my sister’s call for help, she wanted to be in her boss’ good side and also to get my ass out of the couch once and for all.

I had just graduated, and conveniently unemployed. I had tried my luck in a big city, completely failed and had to return home. Had been rotting in my family home for almost a month until my sister told me she had a job opportunity for me.

- Just focus on taking care of the kids, don’t engage with the male employees on the house, she will think you are fucking them, she hates sharing her men. And if you get to see Mr. Jeon when he arrives early from work just say good night without making eye contact, no more exchange, understood?

In fact, I had never seen Mr. Jeon in person. There were huge family pictures all around the house walls, and small frames on the shelves that portrayed his beautiful face.

Mr. Jeon is a handsome man, with youthful features and athletic physique. From chatting with the maids I learned that he goes jogging at 6 AM, to the gym at 7, has breakfast at 8, then heads to work until 9 to 10 at night when he arrives home, takes a shower and goes to bed.

As weeks went by, my love for the kids grew, just as much as my curiosity for their gorgeous father.

The couple didn’t share a room, in fact, apparently they hated each other. They were a happy pair until she was “forced” to bare his children. Both families had agreed to unite in all aspects including business, but the warranty was to have at least one male that would take over everything one day. They did, the youngest of the two children was a beautiful and healthy boy, but Mrs. Jeon was left traumatized and deformed after the pregnancies, which caused the fall of their successful marriage.

Linda, their oldest maid said that it all started even before they got married, because both were compulsive cheaters that enjoyed to have interaction with people bellow their status, such as maids, trainers, secretaries, drivers, bodyguards, etc.

As I reached for a book from the nearby shelf, I heard a faint rustling sound coming from the kitchen. I paused, my heart skipping a beat. Perhaps it was just the house settling.

This weekend I had been tasked to stay over and take care of the kids while Mrs. Jeon was on a girls trip to Indonesia, she’s coming back on Monday.

I’d say Mrs. Jeon trusted me, I was her beloved personal trainer’s sister and I’ve been doing a good job taking care of the kids, acted as if the chef, the gardener, the drivers and the new pastry cook didn’t exist. She was happy with my work.

Her instructions were to just normally complete my Friday - Saturday routine with the kids, but to stay over to keep an eye on them at night, she didn’t trust the maids, one time she had a nightmare in which they all grabbed forks to kill them and fed her a broth made with their bones, ever since she’s been paranoid, she says they hate her so much she believes they are capable of doing it.

It was Friday night, the kids already asleep, I would usually go home after this, but I had to sleep on one of the guest rooms to check on the kids, and Saturday morning prepare them for their swimming lesson and entertain them for the rest of the day.

But then I heard it again, unmistakably—a soft shuffling, like footsteps moving across the tiled floor. My breath caught in my throat as I debated whether to investigate or retreat to the safety of the children's room. The staff had already ended their activities, they were all supposed to be in their chambers.

Summoning courage, I rose from the sofa and tiptoed towards the kitchen, my pulse quickening with each step. The dim light from the living room cast eerie shadows against the walls, adding to the sense of uneasiness that gripped me.

Peering cautiously around the corner, My eyes widened in astonishment. Standing in the center of the kitchen was a figure—Mr. Jeon, very alive and kicking.

He was so much more handsome in person, an unreal beauty. Blazer and tie off, sleeves up his elbows revealed his tattoos, they covered his whole right arm and hand, first three buttons undone letting me see part of his chest, he was bulked. A piercing adorning his lower lip, another on his right eyebrow, a couple more on his ears.

I had heard he did that to his body after he found out guys with piercings and tattoos gave Mrs. Jeon the ick. Apparently he really wanted her away from him.

- Who are you? He asked confused, looked like he already had a few drinks, was peering at the fridge looking for a beer.

- The babysitter.

- What happened to Ms. Barlowe? he asked while opening the beer can and pouring it in a glass.

- She was fired two months ago. I tried to respond as concisely as possible, but this man was making me feel things that would put this job on risk. He liked getting inside the staff’s panties? Then he could take me right here.

- What’s your name? How old are you?

- y/n, hadn’t you heard it’s impolite to ask a woman’s age. I’m old enough.

- Old enough? For what? He chuckled.

- To be your children’s babysitter. I said jokingly, nothing matters anymore, this man has me on my knees acting all flirty.

- Once we had a 16 year old. He said looking at me, taking a sip of his beer.

- Not that young, more like old enough to buy alcohol all that stuff. I said while looking down at my feet, shyness taking over me all of a sudden, I shouldn’t have said anything.

- Are you staying the night?

- Yes, I have to keep an eye on the kids while your wife is away.

- Then I’ll see you around doll, I need a shower. He winked and walked to leave the kitchen, when he passed by me he patted the top of my head.

What?! The nickname got me all confused and flustered, but then the way he touched my head, was it all in a “oh how cute” way? Or a “let’s fuck till daylight”?

I stood there, still processing the whole conversation we had, now I feel embarrassed.

Headed directly to the guest bedroom and took a shower too. I felt so hot, cheeks red and teary eyes. Got my pajamas on, don’t I own a prudish set? Pair of pants and an oversized tee. If he were to walk into the room and saw me wearing this, I bet he would laugh.

Of course I couldn’t sleep a wink. Thinking the hot man was somewhere under the same roof. Foolishly kept imagining things, the way his hands would feel against my skin, his big hands around my throat, long fingers inside my pussy. Oh god!

The mere three or four hours of sleep I got, I slept them like a dog, after about three orgasms I achieved by rubbing my clit. It felt awful afterwards. He was a married man after all, he didn’t love his wife but they were together, he got two children who I adored and spent a lot of time with.

Mr. Jeon would never look at me like that anyways, I bet he had a bunch of women already. Models, celebrities, escorts.

Saturday morning I had breakfast with the kids, I usually arrive after they had finished. Once done we head upstairs to get ready for their swimming lesson. They had a private instructor every Saturday to teach them how to swim, I sat on one of the pallets by the pool.

After the lesson ended, the kids wanted to stay and keep playing in the pool, it was a hot day since summer was around the corner.

- Pleaseee! You can grab one of mom’s swimsuits. The oldest daughter insisted I should join them on their little chasing game inside the water.

- I’d like to but it’s almost lunchtime and then we have things to do remember? You wanted to go to the supermarket and buy snacks. I insisted that it wasn’t a good idea, even though I really wanted to jump into the fresh water, but maybe it would seem shameless.

I ended up getting in. One of the maids brought me one of the many Mrs. Jeon’s bikinis, she told me she grabbed it from a big bag full of clothing she was about to throw away. It was a tiny black Valentino bikini with a white outline.

We played for a while and then got out to have lunch, we sat in the outdoor dining table, all soaked, the tips of our fingers wrinkled from spending too much time on the water.

And then he comes out from inside the house, wearing a black polo shirt tucked in a pair of navy blue jeans, black Saint Laurent sunglasses. He took them out and looked at me from head to toe, licking his lips.

Was he home the whole time?! I’ve never ran into him on Saturdays. I was standing up beside the table, opening a can of sprite for the youngest son.

The kids waved at his father and continued eating, he gave each a kiss on their forehead and stood in front of me.

- When is my mother supposed to pick them up? He said, head lowered to look at me in the eyes.

- Tomorrow morning.

- I’ll tell her to take them today, have everything ready. He said putting his glasses on and heading to the garage.

I’m already imagining things, foolishly thinking he might have a hidden intention to ask his mother to take the kids early, maybe all he wants is my ass out of his house and I’m here all nervous believing he might want some alone time to fuck my brains out, very unlikely.

Once the kids were gone I went to my room, packed everything. I was meant to leave after the grandma took the children TOMORROW, now they are gone and I’m confused on what should I do.

More like expecting Mr. Jeon to come home and…

Toc, toc, toc.

He opened the door and looked at me sitting on the edge of the bed.

- On my studio, in five. He said and quickly closed the door and left.

What the fuck?!

I was almost having a panic attack before I knocked his studio door three times. I decided to change into a white tank top, no bra, white cotton panties and a pair of blue stripped pants, what I had intended to wear tomorrow.

Heard a small come in, and opened the door to enter.

He was sitting in a grey loveseat, manspreading, left hand on his crotch, right holding a cigarette between his lips, such a breathtaking view.

- Come sit with me. He ordered patting the couch.

I walked slowly, still shaking from the nervousness. Sat next to him, hands and eyes on my tights, I couldn’t look at him.

- Is this what you want? He took my hand with both of his, which made me look at his face. He was waiting for an answer.

- What do you mean? Of course I knew what he meant, I guess I just wanted to hear him say it to be sure.

- Do you want me to fuck you? Here, right now?

Yes.

He grabbed my face by my chin and pressed his lips against mine. He let me set the pace at first. His lips were soft, breath tasted like tobacco. I could feel how at times he was struggling not to kiss me harder.

So I let him slide his tongue inside my mouth. He grabbed my hips to place me on his lap, groaning at the feeling of my covered pussy on top of his crotch. He bit and dragged my lower lip, his kisses started to descend from my chin to my neck.

- From the first moment I saw you, your eyes were pleading me to fuck you, then I saw you in that tiny bikini, so naughty.

My pussy was throbbing, his words and his desperate kisses against my skin had me drunk in pleasure already.

He took the hem of my top to remove it, tits bounced right in front of his eyes. He chuckled and looked at me with a smirk, grabbed them with his huge hands, caressing them as if they were two stress balls. With his thumb, he started rubbing my nipples, eyes on mine the whole time.

- You like that princess?

I was a moaning mess, nodded and arched my back. It felt so good, a numbing sensation right into my pussy hole, soaking wet.

He left my nipples to grab my buttocks, automatically started to rub myself on his bulge. He closed his eyes and moaned, then kissed my lips hungrily. Grabbed my waist and helped me pace my movements, he laid back on the couch, locking his eyes to mine.

I stood up to remove my pants, once off he grabbed my hips and sat me on his lap, this time my back against his chest. His rough hands start to brush my body, from my breasts to my stomach.

- Open your legs princess. Obeying immediately to his command, I was already desperate for his touch down there, couldn’t help but to feel powerless under his touch.

I whimpered as I felt his hands pushing my panties to the side, and started to stroke my clit. He then took his fingers to my entrance only to remove them quickly. I moaned and turned my head to look at him in disbelief. He brings his fingers up to my mouth, coated with my juices.

- Lick them.

I slowly wrapped my lips around his long fingers, doe eyes staring at his while circling my tongue against his digits. Spit dripping from my chin and his hands, such a filthy sight. He then removed them from my mouth producing a popping sound.

He took those two fingers down my pussy again, inserted them into my pulsing hole. His hands are skilled, every move he makes hits the right spot, I dropped my head back in pleasure and let out an embarrassingly loud moan, he started kissing my neck, sucking and licking.

- Such a filthy whore, you like my fingers? He said with a deep voice, groaning in my ear. His eyes were fixed in my pussy the whole time, he seemed to enjoy watching his fingers going in and out of my hole.

He had been fingering me for a while, when I felt that familiar response down my pussy, a numbing sensation signaling my orgasm was close to take place.

Jungkook thrusted and curled his fingers hitting the right spot with insane accuracy each time. His cock throbbed underneath me, my thighs trembled as I tried to keep them spreaded. The sight spurred him on as he added another finger, I groaned loudly at the stretch he was now giving me with three fingers.

- Come on baby, cum all over my hand. He mumbled against my ear. It didn’t take long for my release to come. Jungkook groaned, shifting his hips to get some friction himself as he helped you ride it out.

He laid me against the couch before his mouth littered hot kisses across my chest only pausing when he felt my fingers delicately trail along the waistband of his pants, looking forward to undo the button. Jungkook met my gaze with a smirk on his lips.

- Please sir, can I have your cock now? I asked, my eyes innocently blinked up at him. Jungkook groaned at my words, he felt himself twitch desperately against his cotton prison as he looked at my doe expression patiently waiting for him. He gently pushed me on the soft silk couch before beginning to free himself. His cock slapped against his stomach, pre cum already leaking from the tip which he used as lubricant as he gave himself a few pumps.

My legs automatically opened for him to slot himself in between. I felt his tip prod at my entrance, he began to rub, coating his hard dick with my juices. Jungkook sunk himself into my throbbing heat. He started off at a slow pace, kissing my neck softly. Once he felt me clench him, Jungkook started to move faster.

My moans caused him to thrust harder as he found himself wanting to draw more of them out of my pretty lips. It didn’t take long for me to become cockdrunk as I clutch at his forearms, the intense arousal forming again in your stomach. Jungkook felt his balls tighten at my chants.

- Fuck! Yeah sir fuck me harder, I love how your cock feels inside me. My words spurring him to drive himself deeper inside me. My eyes rolled back and my body went limp in his arms as I came for the second time that night. My body was sensitive as he kept thrusting through My orgasm trying to chase his own. He watched my eyes roll as I let him continue to use me like the a slut.

- Oh my god! Sir, please cum inside me, I want your cum inside my pussy. My willingness to submit to him caused his hips to sputter and coat my walls. I could feel his cum warming me from the inside causing me to smile at the feeling of being full of the essence of my boss’s husband. The action solidified the new dynamic between the two of us.

Jungkook pulled his softening cock out of me gently, I heard him get off the couch and leave the room to get a wet cloth to help clean up the mess in between my legs. I snuggled my head into the pillows behind.

- You did so good for me baby, was this okay? Is this what you need? Jungkook asked, sitting next to me on the couch. He moved some hairs away from my face and began stroking my cheek awaiting a response.

- I loved it, thank you sir. I spoke with a soft smile. Jungkook’s helped me slip into the comfort of the bedding in the guest room, he laid in the bed scooping me into his embrace. I laid on his chest whilst he stroked my back, lulling me to sleep with his actions and for the first time I slept peacefully in the embrace of my new lover.

[swordsandholly]

Across the Way

Chapter One: New Places, New Faces

Ao3 | Next

MDNI

Pairing: Ghoap x fem!plus size!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.

Johnny stirs awake with a grunt as Riley’s wet nose bumps against his hand. There’s a very slight ache behind his eyes - the kind that marks an oncoming migraine. He groans, not wanting to open them to the invasive sunlight that will inevitably make it worse. Then again, that’s the only way he can get any preemptive pain medication in his system. He still makes a noise of complaint when he finally peels back his lids.

“Feelin’ alright?” Simon rumbles, setting a glass on the nightstand along with two little pain pills. How he’s able to tell what kind of morning Johnny’s having before even he can is a true mystery.

Johnny just grunts back, rolling onto his side to grab his hearing aid out of the nightstand drawer. Normally he wouldn’t bother with putting it on with a possibly impending migraine, but he figures he can chance it. They’ve been lessening in the past few months. Somewhat.

“Plans for the day?” Simon asks as he pulls on one of his work shirts. “Up for coming to the shop?”

The little clock beside him blinks out five in the morning. Even after being retired for nearly three years, neither of them can manage to sleep in late whether they have to be up or not. “Gonnae take Riley out tae the park. Might drop by.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Me? Never.” Johnny flashes his husband a grin.

Simon just rolls his eyes in response. The rest of their morning is quiet, as most are when Johnny isn’t up for talking. It’s a comfortable silence, one they both came to appreciate long before this current chapter in their lives. One that developed on cots and in tents and the wreckage of war zones.

It’s just how they are.

Being essentially a stay at home husband was not how Johnny pictures his thirties. Being disabled was not how he pictured… any of it. He thought he’d be up for Lieutenant by now. Thought Simon would have taken over as Captain of the 141. He’s learned not to be bitter about it (with Simon’s and some professional help).

He can’t complain too much. He’s alive. He gets to be with his family. With Simon. With Riley in this run down dog park throwing around a ball that she dutifully chases and brings back with the pride of a great hunter bringing home a prized beast. He gets to go home to a place that is truly his, with a big comfortable bed and a man he fought tooth and nail to fill it with.

It’s a small life but he’s learned that small doesn’t mean unimportant.

Christ who knew turning thirty would make him a damn philosopher.

“Alright, lassie, time tae go.” Johnny crouches to shuffle Riley’s harness and leash back on. He knees pop and his back protests the movement. It’s a mercy that they were able to get such a lovely service dog. She’s such a good pup, always at the ready and happy to obey.

Except now, as she begins to tug insistently at her leash with her full weight - or at least as much as she can use without hurting him. It isn’t like her. He clicks and commands her to heel. She tugs harder and whines. It isn’t an alert that he knows - maybe it’s one that they don’t need often? He lets go of the leash, following as she quickly jogs away.

He circles a few bushes in pursuit, coming to face one of the large trees on the outer edge of the park. There’s a girl leaned on it, breath coming in and out heavy. She starts to slip forward a bit before Riley props her up, stabalizing the girl in much the same way she does Johnny when he gets faint. He speeds up his steps, holding out his hands on either side of the girl in case she falls.

“Aren’t you a good girl?” She coos at Riley quietly. American. Huh. He watches the girl dig in her pocket for something, eventually pulling out what looks like a to-go salt packet. She tears it open, throwing it back like a shot.

“Ye a’right?” Johnny asks, tilting his head.

She nods and takes a long, deep breath. “Sorry, I have a…thing.” She waves her hand around her head, straightening up and turning to face him. She’s cute. Insanely cute - with big eyes and soft body. Lovely curves from head to toe. Johnny may be a married man but that doesn’t mean he can’t apprecaite a little, right?

“Donnae apologize. I’ve got a thing, tae.” Johnny grins and points to the scar on his head where his hair never quite grew back.

She gives him a soft smile. “Well, you’ve got a good dog. I’ve never had one alert like that.”

“Aye, she was tuggin’ hard. Must’ve been a pretty bad spell. Ye sure yer okay?”

“Yeah.” Her braided hair falls about her shoulders. “Just didn’t eat enough before I went for a walk and then I stood up too quickly…”

“Och, standin’, my age old enemy.”

She giggles quietly, pressing her fingers over her lips to cover them. It’s pretty, the way her round face gets even rounder with her smile.

“Johnny.” He holds out a hand, flashing his most charming smile he can muster. It’s a little more tired these days - the corners of his eyes crinkle more than they used to. The girl takes his hand, so soft and warm and small in his, and breathes out her name quietly. Almost bashfully. So cute.

Unfortunately his phone chimes, interrupting the moment before he can ask her more.

“I should be off, ye sure yer okay?” Johnny lets his eyes take over her, not just her body but also checking that she is, in fact, okay. Her eyes seem clear, stance steady, not too pale or too flushed. He’s no medic but he’d say she’s going to be fine.

“Yeah, yeah. Thank you.” She crouches slightly, slowly moving to look at Riley. “And thank *you* ma’am.”

Johnny watches her walk away, pausing to make sure she doesn’t stumble. He’s not sure what compels him - maybe it’s the solider in him still wanting to watch for the safety of those around him. It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the way her wide hips sway as she makes her way down the path.

Johnny can’t stop smiling as he makes his way to the shop for some reason. It wasn’t even all that impressive of an interaction, but something about it really warmed his heart. Maybe it was just meeting someone else with a *thing*, as she put it. There really isn’t anyone else in his life who needs as much support as him - certainly not many adults in this small town who need assistance on the whole. It’s rare to meet someone who gets it, however briefly.

“Wot’s got you so chipper?” Simon quirks an eyebrow as he enters.

The door bell chimes above his head. Riley trots off from Johnny’s side to her designated bed in the corner of the shop. Away from the food but close enough that she could easily get wherever Johnny might be. One of the regulars even made a plaque for her that his Da screwed on the wall.

“Met a nice lass today in the park.” He shrugs. “Pretty little thing.”

“Ah, your great-aunt’s prayin’ finally do you in?” Simon chuckles as Johnny ducks behind the counter to rest a hand on the small of his back.

“Aye, finally realized I should turn tae a life of lassies an’ biarns. Yer great arse has no power over me now, foul demon.”

Simon chuckles. There’s something about it that always does Johnny in. A low rumble he can feel in his very bones. “Glad to see you’re feelin’ better.”

Johnny hums. “The warm weather helps, fer whatever reason.”

“Good. You see the shop across the street?”

Johnny turns, looking out their front window. The construction has been going on for a few months - various workers milling in and out. Neither he nor Simon could figure out what they were putting in until small signs were put across the windows announcing the new location to be The Honey Bun Bakery with an opening date at the bottom. A bit cutesy for their taste, but a new bakery in town is exciting. The last one closed because the owners got too old and had no one to take over. His mother has been buzzing about it since the signs were first put up.

The biggest mystery is the owner. No one has seen hide nor hair of whoever owns the place. There were movers taking things into the attached apartment on the floor above about a week ago, but no one has actually seen the resident. He or she is a ghost. Gossip has filled the town, of course. Especially among the older folks. That’s another thing his mother has been fluttering about.

“Already opening day, eh?”

“Yep.”

“We should check it out, then.”

Simon hums. “We’ll go after the morning rush if you’re up for it, hm?”

“Aye.”

“Johnny?” The shorter man jumps as Simon’s hands rest on his waist. He’ll never get over the intensity of Simon’s eyes. For a man who keeps his emotions locked in the deepest parts of him, he sure carries a lot of it in those pretty dark pools.

“Aye?” The word comes out breathier than he means it to.

“You look sunburnt.”

Johnny barks out a laugh, half-heartedly shoving his husband off. “An’ here I thought ye were gonnae say somethin’ romantic.”

“You know me better than that.” Simon’s eyes crinkle in the corners with a smile as he pulls the mask to the side, pressing a kiss to Johnny’s lips.

You may or may not have slept exactly 3.46 hours last night. It’s not your fault, really. Today’s your first day. Your first real day of your new life and your new career. Years of prayers and months upon months of planning, waiting, crying, and straining have finally come to a head. You’re in Scotland, your bakery is constructed, all that’s left is to actually bake.

And sell, of course, but you try your hardest not to think about that part or you might throw up. Again.

You curse the time it takes you to shower, carefully acclimating to the heat of the shower and sitting in your little plastic seat. You want to run, to act like the a whirlwind you feel in your head. You can’t, though, it’s not worth possibly ruining the most important day in your life just because you were impatient and passed out. At least you finally got your medication situation figured out before coming over here - the perfect little cocktail sitting on the corner of your dresser.

Your hands tremble a bit as you open up one of the cardboard boxes still sitting in your living room. You’d picked out a special outfit for your first real day of owning your own business months ago - one you made sure would be here with you on opening day. Really, it isn’t anything special - just a pair of black gingham trousers and a black cotton t-shirt along with your well-loved non-slip shoes. It’s yours though, and it perfectly matches your specially embroidered apron with your little logo on the front, center pocket. It’s yours. All yours. It’s a reminder that you’re here. You made it out.

You had already done a good bit of the work the day before - putting together your doughs and shaping up pastries to proof overnight in the fridge. Now all that’s left is to actually bake them and put them out. The smell wafts through the building, covering any left over scents of paint or construction work. It feels real. Grounding. You’re here and you can feel, smell, even taste it.

You expected a few customers. Not much. High hopes and low expectations. Just a couple people here and there that noticed the new shop coming to town and were curious about it. You’d advertised as well as you could from across the pond. Maybe a little rush around the late morning when people are usually out for brunch and shopping at most.

You did not expect a constant stream from the moment you propped the door open until the late afternoon. These Scots run you fucking ragged. A constant flux of in and out, all day. All them wanting to chat, as well.

“Oh, American! Whit part are ye from?”

“Yer sae young! Just a wee bairn!”

“So nice havin’ a bakery again, aye?”

“Urr ye merrit? Ah hae a son-“

You regret not buying that coffee machine for the back room.

Just as you’re stacking display baskets to take to the back to wash up the door chimes behind you. Here you thought you were finally done for the day. You sigh. “Sorry, hun, I’m pretty much out of everyth-”

“Ye!” You whirl, only to meet those same bright blue eyes from the day before.

“Johnny!” You squeak, eyes wide.

“Why dinnae ye mention the shop?” The man grins wide - the same as the day before. Sparkling and bright and far, far more pretty than you’re prepared to deal with. His hair is neater today - not ragged from exercise with his service dog who currently sits politely by his feet.

“Ah, was little light headed. Wasn’t thinking straight.” You shrug.

“Speaking of, how’s yer thing?” He waves a hand about his head the same way you did the day prior. It’s cute how invested he seems to be, genuinely asking if you’re alright. The man looming behind him watches silently.

“Oh, I’m alright. Finer than the hair on a toad split four ways.” You grin.

The man behind him furrows his brow slightly at the expression, but doesn’t offer a word. He’s tall. Wide too and dressed in all black with long sleeves despite the warm, spring weather. His hair is buzzed neatly. There’s a severity to him only emphasized by the scar splitting his brow and the small chip missing from his ear.

“Och, this is my husband Simon.” Jihnny steps to the side and gestures toward the brooding figure behind him. “We own the butcher shop across the street.”

“No shit!” You can’t help but smile ear to ear, holding out your hand. They seem so sweet. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you. Glad to have such nice neighbors.”

Simon shakes your hand a single time curtly before stepping back behind Johnny. The severity in his dark eyes softens whenever he glances toward the other man. Cute.

“We wanted tae come see whit ye’ve got.”

“I haven’t got much left…” You tap your chin and rest a hand on your hip, wanting to rectify the dip of disappointment in the pretty man’s brow. “Oh! I’ve got a sourdough in the back. One sec!”

You skitter off, paying little mind to how silly you must look practically prancing toward the back room. Originally, you’d planned to save this for yourself tonight as a job-well-done treat but it feels more gratifying to give it to your new neighbors. Hopefully they like it - maybe you can finally make some friends for the first time in… ever really.

“How much fer it?”

“On the house. We’re neighbors now, yeah? First ones free.” You grin, wrapping it extra nicely in some brown paper packaging.

“Thank ye, bonnie.” Johnny cradles the loaf so carefully you almost laugh - as if he’s afraid too much pressure will completely ruin it. Like he’s holding a precious treasure. “We’ll leave ye alone tae close but we’ll see ye around, aye?”

“Course.” You nod, waving after them and they exit. You can see the big blonde, Simon, turn to Johnny to say something but it’s impossible to hear them or tell from their lips as they cross the street back to their butcher shop. They link hands, fingers intertwining with long practiced grace, and something in your throat constricts.

What’s it like, you wonder, to have a love like that?

[exactlyyoungchaos]

Loss of my Life.

Husband Simon X Reader.

My first time writing here!!! Please don't mind the mistakes as I'm writing this at 5 in the morning. enjoy!!!

TW: loss of a relationship, hurt, angst, little comfort, cursing, trauma(loss of family, mention of miscarriage), "its not you, its me bullshit" let me know if i missed something!

You used be a medic working with TF141 for years before you retired. that's how you met your now husband Simon Riley. he was the most loving, attentive and responsible partner you could've asked for, he was ghost to everyone but not you, never you. But something's changed recently.

ever since his last mission eight months ago, he's been detached, not talking to you properly, coming home extremely late and drunk. he hasn't even touched you since he came back and its saying something for a guy who used to be attached to your hips whenever he could.

you tried talking to him, tried asking what's wrong but you always got the same answer, " you're thinkin too much lovie, nothings wrong."

but you know your husband so you start digging, and that's the biggest mistake you have made.

you found a note in his vest pocket, where he keeps his wedding ring during missions that read " be safe and come back to me" in a handwriting you knew by heart but it wasn't yours.

it was of his childhood best friend. she was in the special forces as well, and recently worked with Simon's team on the last mission.

you knew then and there, the reason of the detachment, the curt responses. your husband was in love with the woman he told you not to worry about.

your eyes blur with the realization that the life you once knew is soon going to come to an end, the man you're in love with , who's ring you have been wearing for years is not yours anymore or maybe he never was.

you sat there in your closet, tears streaming down your face, gut wrenching sobs coming out of you mouth. he isn't home, like usual so there is no one to witness the loss of your life.

your brain conjure up all the good times you had with him but now all of it is tainted by the realization that none of it was true.

you remember every time you caught both of them looking at each other, the friendly adoration in Simon's eyes now looked like longing, with his hands still around your waist.

every time he said to you "you're the love of my life" with his lips on yours, was he wishing it was her? all these years, you were so in love, so blinded by the rose tinted glasses you had over your eyes that you never saw it?

you sat there for hours, mulling over your whole life. how the one person you thought was yours forever was never yours. so you got up, eyes hollow, bloodshot and puffy, your form trembling. you put the note back where it was and go lay on your bed.

you stare at the wall for hours, around three am, your front door opened and closed. you felt him as he walked in the bedroom and slipped under the sheets next to you.

for the first time in weeks, he put his arms around your waist and pulled you towards himself, " you awake love?" he murmured in your neck.

all that came out of your mouth was, " Am I not enough?" in a rough whisper.

his arms tense around you, he knows that you know. before he could say something, you turn to face him, still in his arms.

you look at his face, and trace his scars with your fingers as tears fell from your eyes on your pillow.

his expression is tortured, " Its not what you-" but you cut him off with a soft shush and a finger on his lips. the lips you called home for as long as you remember.

you don't want him to lie to you anymore so you smile, the same smile Simon has witnessed when you lost your whole family in an accident as he stood next to your shaking form during the funeral, the same smile you gave him when you had a miscarriage as he stood next to you on the hospital bed holding your hand, grieving with you.

his heart was breaking, he was cursing himself for doing this to you. but you don't blame him, you haven't said anything to him except "will you hold me for the last time? please?" and you bury your face in his chest, taking in his scent for the last time. feeling his erratic heartbeat for the last time.

Simon's hand tightened around you, he doesn't want to let you go. the only good thing that happened to him. he destroyed you, like he always does to anything he touches.

he knows he cant fix this, nothing he could say would fix this. so he held you, with all his might, for the last time.

part 2?

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Can I have some cute random facts about the skeleton brothers?

Sure can!

Undertale Sans - Sans is the one who sneaked the annoying dog into the house Underground. He figured that when Papyrus is a little sad, the dog always managed to cheer him up, or, well, annoy him enough so he doesn't think about what's making him sad anymore.

Undertale Papyrus - When Undyne and Alphys had their first kid, Papyrus played the nanny so they could both sleep the first night as he could see they were both really exhausted. He ends up being the child's godfather as well and he would die for his niece/nephew.

Underswap Sans - He participated in a beauty contest for fun with Alphys in the first month he reached the Surface and won. He's still sleeping with his trophy to this day, he's actually very proud of it (mostly because Alphys didn't win anything and her jealous face will not make him laugh).

Underswap Papyrus - He didn't know how to swim and so he was sad when he found himself all alone during the first monster trip to the beach while everyone was having fun. So Asgore picked him up and carried him on his back so he could enjoy the sea like the others. He even taught him the basics in a swimming pool when they got home and Honey is so thankful for it as he discovered he actually really likes that.

Underfell Sans - He couldn't be a dinosaur kid Underground, but I can promise you that the second he got on the Surface, he fell madly in love with the giant reptiles to the point of squealing in joy every time he saw a toy representing a dinosaur he doesn't have. He has a very impressive collection of them now. Edge took him to a dinosaur museum for his birthday. After that, it became impossible to make Red shut up for two months. It's still his favorite place on Earth and he's going there at least once a month.

Underfell Papyrus - That time, completely drunk, when he confessed to Undyne that she was his best friend and that he didn't know what he'd do without her. Of course, the next morning, the face entirely red, he screamed at her she imagined the whole thing and to leave him alone, despite her recording of the scene on her phone. But yeah, he turns a lot softer once drunk and Undyne is so amused by this that she's going to torment him for two months.

Horrortale Sans - Since Toriel's eyesight became pretty terrible over the years, once a week, Oak comes to her place to read books to her. It's a nice routine they have from Underground after he got his skull smashed as reading was helping Oak's memory. He struggled on a lot of words and she helped him through his lecture. Now he's doing it only to entertain her, mainly because it hurts him so much to notice Toriel is aging. She became his whole world through the years and he's not sure he could bear losing her. So he cherishes any small moment he has with her.

Horrortale Papyrus - He's working as a volunteer in an old people retirement home and even if he's not supposed to, he loves taking the three old ladies he's taking care of to the movie theater or to the restaurant just so they can have fun for a few hours. They're all acting like they're on a super secret mission and it's always a nice time. He kidnapped them next Gyftmas to celebrate at his place because no one should be without a family at that time.

Swapfell Sans - He loves being massaged to the point he becomes completely limp in his S/O's arms. It's actually one of the very rare moments you'll see him fully relaxed and/or deep asleep, as Nox usually never lowers his guard. That pretty much means he feels very safe around you, which is literally a confession that he trusts you with his life. You're a lucky one.

Swapfell Papyrus - The first time Nox took him to an attraction park once they arrived on the Surface is where Rus actually called him brother again for the first time in almost twenty years. Now that's something they do every year, to remind each other that despite everything that happened, they're still here for each other. Rus can tell it's Nox's way to apologize for the childhood Rus never really had and he's actually glad. Even though it's also a good excuse to get his revenge once a year by dragging his brother to a fantom train just to watch him scream with terror the whole time, without being able to complain because Rus will guilt-trip him otherwise lmao.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He tried makeup for the first time on the Surface and now he has a little bit of an addiction on his hands. He can spend hours in the cosmetics shops, just trying everything to see what looks good on him. He's actually so known in these shops the seller usually keeps all the new things in a corner so he can try them when he comes.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Since he doesn't like to talk to the seller in the shops, he usually sends his brother or his S/O to buy things for him. But since they often mess up and don't pick what he wants, now he's coming along, just hiding behind them and silently pointing at the things he wants with puppy eyes. Now that he has a little more confidence he's just doing it with anything he wants and that is not planned. Just staring intensely so someone notices him and buys it lol. He's poor, please say yes :(

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Fuck Up Chapter 3

Summary:  Bucky fucked up.  A few times.  Will his best friend ever be able to forgive him?

Warnings: language, smut, mentions of war, injury, pregnancy

Previous chapter Next chapter

The next morning Bucky woke to a loud buzzing. He shifted around until he could find his pants and rummaged through his pockets, pulling out his phone and trying to see who was calling him.

“Hello?” he said hoarsely.

“Where are you?” Becca said, her voice sounding worried and annoyed.

“What? I…” Bucky turned and looked around, remembering the night before. He looked at Y/N, still asleep next to him. “I fell asleep at Y/N’s,” he said quickly.

“God, of course you did,” Becca sighed exasperatedly. “You’re supposed to leave for the airport in an hour. Are you even packed?”

“Yes, yes I’m ready,” Bucky said quietly as he got up slowly and gathered up his clothes. “I’ll be home soon.”

“Okay. Is Y/N coming to the airport with us?”

Bucky froze at that. He didn’t know how he was even going to have this conversation with her as he left, let alone if she were to come with him to the airport to say goodbye. “Uh…I’m not sure.”

“Alright, well, get home soon, Mom is freaking out as usual.”

“I will. Bye.”

Bucky hung up and slipped his clothes on quickly. As he fixed his hair and put his shoes on he looked back at Y/N. He didn’t know if he’d be able to handle waking her and saying goodbye. Last night had been so perfect, he didn’t want to ruin it. He sighed as he walked to her side of the bed, kneeling down to look at her. She snored lightly, her eyes moving behind her eyelids as she dreamed. He smiled at her, carefully moving some of her hair back in place and out of her eyes. He leaned in and kissed her cheek.

“I’m leaving,” he whispered. “I don’t think I can handle saying goodbye to you again. So I won’t wake you. Either way, you’ll hate me for it. But I’ll be back,” he kissed her shoulder, adjusting the blankets around her. “I’ll come home to you.” A tear slid down his face as he stared at her one more time. “I love you.”

Bucky sent her a text after he left basically saying the same thing that he had whispered to her. He knew this was a massive fuck up, but it was too late now. He’d come home to her and fix it, and everything would be okay. It had to be.

10 months later

Bucky came home hurt, both physically and emotionally. He was grateful it was his final tour. He and Steve had survived, barely. The landmine had thrown them both and killed two of the other troops on his team. He had made it out alive, but the shrapnel that had embedded into his back had taken two surgeries to remove. He was still healing when he got off the plane and was greeted by his family.

“Oh you made it,” Winifred cried heavily, George and Becca hugging him and crying. “You are never going back, you hear me? No more, I will not allow it.”

“I’m done, Ma, I’m done,” Bucky chuckled. “I’m officially discharged. Retired.”

“Good,” Winifred said, patting down his uniform and looking him over.

“Where’s Y/N?” Bucky asked, looking around expectantly.  Becca then punched his arm. “Ow! What the hell?” he yelped.

“We will talk about it when we get home,” she hissed at him.

When they reached the house Becca rounded on him. “What did you do?”

“Excuse me?” Bucky asked.

“What did you do to Y/N?” Becca snarled. Bucky’s eyes widened. He hadn’t heard from Y/N since he left, which was out of the ordinary because she always wrote to him, but he thought for sure she would have been there to greet him when he got home. He hadn’t been able to worry about it too much, what with special operations and the whole trying-not-to-die-part, then healing from nearly getting killed.  “She disappeared after you left. I’ve tried calling, her number is disconnected.” Winifred sniffled next to him. “I tried going to her apartment, the landlord says she no longer lives there.” Bucky’s brow furrowed. She loved that apartment. “I even reached out to her adoptive family, who of course know nothing.  All her social media is deactivated. We haven’t been able to find her. So I will ask again, what did you do?”

Bucky was afraid. He knew it wasn’t the right thing to leave her without waking her up and saying goodbye, he just couldn’t bear it.  And now she is gone? “I…we…”

Becca’s face twisted with recognition. “Oh my god…you fucked her.”

“You what?!” George and Winifred exclaimed.

Bucky hung his head into his hands. “Yes, okay, the night before I left. But you make it sound so gross, it wasn’t like that,” he said, running his hands through his now short hair.

“Explain,” Becca demanded.

“I…look, it just happened. I was leaving and we were both sad and when I woke up the next morning I just couldn’t…I couldn’t stand to wake her up and say goodbye again so I…I texted her and then I left.”

“You…you TEXTED HER?!” Becca screamed, jumping forward and hitting him again.

“Ow! I know, hey, I KNOW!” Bucky yelled back at her, pushing her hands away. “I know I fucked up! Okay? I’ve regretted it ever since. Not her, but leaving like that. I just thought…I don’t know what I was thinking. It was stupid and I was hoping when I got home I could fix it.” He took a shaky breath. “She never wrote to me. And I was worried when you guys had said you hadn’t seen her in a while but, now she’s gone?” He sat on the chair at the table next to him. “Gone…”

They all sat in silence for a moment. Becca was the first to move, sighing heavily as she walked over and took the seat across from him. “You’re right, you fucked up real bad.” Bucky scoffed as he wiped his face with his hands. “We’re still looking for her. If there’s anything you can think of that might help us, then great. Otherwise,” she reached over and grabbed his hand. “I’m happy you’re safe and you’re home, but I’m really angry with you.”

Bucky nodded, squeezing her hand.

[zilabee]

Living The Beatles Legend:

After a lifetime of self-doubt over body issues and inveterate shyness, he simply couldn’t control himself. “Big Mal was a demon for sex,” Tony wrote. “[...] Like sacrificial virgins, a lot of the girls willingly accepted that they would have to do it with Mal to get to John, Paul, George, or Ringo, and Mal knew it.”

“A couple of newspaper friends put on a private show involving several prostitutes for our entertainment, one of them being very pregnant.” As Mal recalled, “It was a little unnerving to have these ladies performing before our eyes with each other in one room, with Brian, George Martin and Judy, and the rather more staid members of the press in the adjoining living room.”

“I was being entertained by a young lady late one evening,” Mal wrote, “when George rushes into the darkened room, stoned out of his mind, tearing the bedclothes off, shouting, ‘My turn next—come on, give us a bit!’” Mal gave way to the Beatle, concluding that “apart from that, I was the one that got screwed.”

By this point, [Lily] wasn’t just finding “silly groupie letters” in his suitcase, but also the occasional stray pair of knickers and other telltale signs of infidelity. She recognized that Mal was being seduced—and had been for some time—by overwhelming forces, impulses with which she could hardly begin to compete.

After her brother returned from the States, June recalled that “Malcolm came home knackered, absolutely shattered from that tour.” [...] Her brother and the Beatles were living in a “totally unreal world—an extraordinary, horrendous, wonderful, terrible place that they were all existing in during that period. And they were all damaged by it. They suddenly could have anything they wanted.”

After sharing a convivial dinner with Victoria’s father, who retired early, Mal (31yo) and Victoria (16yo) returned to the hotel and went up to the twenty-seventh floor. [..] “Mal was very sweet,” she recalled, “and we talked and we talked, and we sort of made out.” And while she was unable to meet the Beatles the next morning to do an interview, she exchanged contact information with Mal. And later that year, the letters from her new pen pal began arriving, elegantly adorned with “this beautiful British handwriting.” *

Eventually, Mal would develop a vital relationship of his own with the Scruffs, although he had his detractors—namely, Carol Bedford, a peripheral member of their scrum and a George aficionado who later claimed that Mal tried to put the moves on her. Apparently, Mal had continued to approach women in the Beatles’ universe in the same transactional manner in which he and Neil had “auditioned” willing fans during the band’s touring years. Another Apple Scruff recalled a similar instance when Mal’s attempts to cozy up to the Scruffs went terribly wrong. Apparently, he had crawled under one of the girls’ blankets and “touched something he shouldn’t have.” With that, the offended Scruff came flying out from under the blanket yelling, “Who do you think you are, Paul McCartney?” **

Since leaving the hospital, [Arwen (21yo)] had reared Little Malcolm in her cramped lodgings in West Hampstead. At some point, around the age of six months, he was put up for adoption, leaving her care lock, stock, and barrel, with Mal’s teddy bear as the baby’s only consolation. Mal’s diary would enumerate lunches and telephone calls with the young woman at various points across 1969, but eventually, Arwen chose to move on, putting the whole painful episode behind her. ***

[For his son's birthday] Mal made a cassette recording in which he offered his sincere wishes for the coming year. [...] But any goodwill Mal hoped to deliver was quickly undone that morning as Gary listened to the recording over breakfast with his mother and sister. To his incredible pain and embarrassment, the tape didn’t end with his father’s birthday greeting. Apparently, Mal had recycled the cassette, and as Gary and his sister prepared to go to school, they heard the unmistakable sounds of Fran fellating their dad. The boy’s only solace was the knowledge that his eight-year-old sister didn’t understand the sounds emanating from the tape player.

[..]for the first time, Fran found herself afraid of her boyfriend, whose darkness had never been more acute. It all came to a head one night when Mal, drunk to the gills, began threatening her with his Colt Woodsman pistol, at one point placing the gun against her head before discharging it into the washing machine. When he sobered up, Mal couldn’t have been more apologetic, swearing to mend his ways and be the boyfriend she deserved.

____________________________________

Another quote under the cut, with trigger warning for rape and attempted suicide - and a few notes about some of it.

____________________________________

June 1964 - New Zealand

At the time, the official story involved a twenty-year-old female fan who, having secreted her way into the hotel, chose to slash her wrists in Mal’s room after being unable to talk her way into the Beatles’ suite. Fortunately, police caught sight of the young woman through a window and broke down the locked door with a battering ram. She was subsequently taken to a local hospital and discharged that same day.

[There are then some bits about how Derek tried to ensure it didn't link back to the Beatles in anyway, and the way the press reported it as "Girl Tries To Die For Beatles", and someone else claiming she'd actually had sex with someone and then got 'hysterical' because she realised he wasn't going to get her in to see the Beatles... but eventually it cuts to the quote from Mal's diary below.]

“On arriving back at the hotel at two in the morning,” he wrote, “I was greeted by a crowd of police and detectives as the elevator doors opened at my floor. On verifying that I occupied a particular room number, they very solemnly escorted me there, where to my horror on opening the door, I found the bathroom and bedroom covered in blood. Apparently, what had happened [was] several people had gang-banged her in my bedroom. She was so distraught, she took a razor blade from my razor and slashed her wrists, but was discovered in time and recovered in hospital. Obviously I was a prime suspect, but I had the best alibi in the world—I was drinking tea with her mother.” ****

____________________________________

* Victoria was 16, and Mal was 31. He wrote with her for a few years and met up with her again several times, and there's a quote where she says she "thought she was in love with him", and another where she was surprised to find out he was married. He's a grown man with a family and it's creepy as fuck that he was leading on/grooming a 16 year old girl - although I think according to the book they never had sex.

** I've bolded a lot of the wording which fucks me the fuck off in that passage about apple scruffs, what a fucking weird piece of writing. Apparently apparently apparently - I don't even think he's using it to suggest it might not be true, I think he's just using it to make it sound a bit casual, oh turns out he was just treating them like shit like he used to! Oh he was just 'cozying up' ??????? The last bit also feels like the girl being able to fight her corner and tell him off is being used to suggest it therefore didn't matter - not to suggest that there were probably lots of other girls who didn't want his hands on them but didn't know how to say no. It's also quickly followed by a quote of another apple scruff saying he took care of them like a big brother and they all loved him. Which is fine. But teenage girls feeling as though the creepy guy who is being nice to them in order to take advantage is just being nice to them, doesn't mean much. It's creepy that he was trying to befriend the young vulnerable girls that idolised anyone who worked with Beatles, you've literally just said he was doing it in a 'transactional manner'.

*** The author used a pseudonym for Arwen - a young woman that Mal had an affair and a child with. He wrote in his diary when the child was born, and visited them, "gifting the boy with an oversize teddy bear from Harrods". Personally I think 'chose to move on' covers an awful lot of pain very glibly. Imagine having to give your baby away after six months, imagine what she went through. It is not a small thing that he carelessly got a young woman pregnant and then offered her nothing.

**** I think we all live in Beatles fandom knowing that the people we enjoy did awful terrible things, but sometimes it's good to confront how bad it was, even if we'll never know who was involved in this particular incident. Or how often it happened to other women. Whether Beatles were involved here or not, they were around this, they were inside it. They were influenced by and friends with horrible people. Imagine writing that in your diary like it's a good joke that you were having tea with her mum while she was going through that, and not how awful that would actually feel if you had a heart. The author adds that this incident affected Mal, saying, "His “demon” persona was still alive and well, to be sure, but there would be perceptible shifts in his outlook as the group’s touring days moved forward." I didn't really pick up on these, so I'm not sure how so.

[marveldcmistress]

Heartbreak Amongst the Harem

A/N: It's here! Thank you to @just-ten-cents for the encouragement and beta writing for me! And like most of my writing, this is purely self-serving. Based off a dream I had about Mikey, but I threw is the other three just for spice and giggles. Enjoy!

Summary: Reader is in a poly relationship, and everything was going great, until a lack of communication and people's hurt feelings cause some loyalty issues.

Pairings: Mike (Hellraiser) x Plus Size!Reader, Captain Syverson x Plus Sized!Readaer, August Walker x Plus Sized!Reader, Walter Marshall x Plus Sized!Reader

Trigger Warnings: cheating, reverse harem, cussing, physical violence/threats of physical violence, hints and innuendos of smut, drinking and smoking, if there's anymore just let me know.

If someone would have told you a year ago you would be in a relationship with four men, who are more than happy to share you, you would have laughed in their face. It was a wonder even one out of the three older men took a second glance at you, let alone all three wanting you. You were less surprised about Mikey though. You were fully aware that he was a whore. He almost bragged about it when he could come in during your shifts at the bar. 

All four had been customers at some point or other. Sy, Walter, and August had all grown up together. Despite being fourth cousins, twice removed, or however they tried to explain it to you, they grew up in tight knit families. Eventually, Sy went into the military, August was hired into the CIA and Walter went off to college and became a cop. But as life goes, it brought them back together when Sy retired, August chose to leave the CIA, and Walter offered to move them into his house to fill the void Faye left when she went to college. 

Sy had started his own dog training business while August became a personal trainer for the police academy. Months after though was when Sy got the call from one of their other cousin’s, Liza. Liza had gotten pregnant at 17 and raised Mikey mostly on her own. When Mikey had gotten into college in the same city, she had practically BEGGED Sy and Walter to let him live with them so he would stay out of trouble. And it worked, for the most part. There had been a few times where some of Mikey’s flings had shown up to the house because he had ghosted them and they couldn’t handle it, but Walter had that straightened out pretty quickly. 

The first time you met them, they had all come in for Mikey’s 22nd birthday, only wanting a couple drinks and some wings before going home for work the next morning. You were behind the bar, busting ass alone and looking fantastic while doing it. Sy and August had shared a look. It wasn’t uncommon for them to share a woman during their usual one night stands. Walter had rolled his eyes and shook his head. One day these three were going to get him killed. Despite his thought process though, he could agree that you were an attractive woman. All four men were flirting with you all night, causing a blush to cover not only your cheeks, but spread all the way down your neck and across your chest, much to their delight. 

It went on that way for months, sometimes they would come in individually, just two or three of them, or as the whole group. Sometimes it was deep conversation about the darkness they had seen in the world, the battle of darkness inside of them, and the anger at the universe they held for making them go through that darkness alone. Everytime though they would flirt with you. Eventually, you fell in love with them.

Sy was the perfect southern gentleman, funny and sweet and respectful. He always told the worst dad jokes. August was snarky and sarcastic, but he called you Kitten and it just made you weak in the knees. Walter was grumpy and brooding, but the intellectual conversations you would have stimulated you mentally, which stimulated you sexually as well. He could also appreciate any insight you could provide from what little he could tell you about his cases. 

And last but not least, Mikey. He had gotten the nickname Baby from you because of his baby face. He was like a puppy dog to you. It had taken some convincing from Mikey and the others for you to give him a chance. It was unconventional, but it worked for the five of you. Sy and August were your makeshift bouncers when your boss fired the last one you had without having someone to replace him and they never interfered with your job unless it was a risk to your safety. Sometimes when flirting with customers for tips they would get carried away, but that’s not the point. 

Everything was going great, until you got that text that shattered everything. It had been a beautiful summer day in the middle of July. Sy had taken you and Walter on a trip for the weekend in between cases. The cabin on the lake was beautiful, lush green grass surrounding you, trees thick and abundant. Sy and Walter were on the docks fishing while you were sitting on the porch drinking a glass of moscato. August had appointments for a personal training business he had just started and Mikey had opted out, spouting something about having summer classes he had homework for. It struck you as odd, he hadn’t told you about taking summer classes before, but you shook it off and decided to have a good trip with the two lovers you had with you. There was no cell service out here so you had to entertain yourself. 

After your much needed break with your boys, filled with sex and rest, it was back to business as usual. Walter had once asked you to move in, to which you had told him it was too soon. You would love to move in one day, when your relationship with all four men was at a more permanent standing. It wasn’t that you didn’t see a future with them, but you were still unsure as to how this poly situation would work long term. But that was a discussion for another day. 

It was a week after your trip and you were hustling behind the bar, flipping bottles and slinging drinks. It was an extra busy Saturday night, the band being extremely popular amongst the local community. Sy and August were standing at the very end of the bar by the door, two sets of military trained eyes scoping every part of the crowded room. You’re so busy you don’t have time to check your phone when you see a notification from Mikey light your phone up. 

It wasn’t until after the last customer had left and you finished all of your side work did you look at your phone. Sy was walking behind you to his truck, his hand in your back pocket. August had left after last call, saying he was gonna set up your nightly routine at home so it was ready when you got there. Your boys always treated you so well. 

You unlock your phone and click on the notification. You weren’t surprised to see he had sent you a video, as Mikey had an obsession with TikToK and liked to share what he thought you would enjoy. As you wait for the video to load, Sy helps you climb into his truck, his hands pushing you by the ass into the seat, pinching just under the cheeks before you sit down.

“Ow, Sy!” you yelp. He just chuckles, vibrations coming from deep in his chest. 

“Can’t help it, Sugar. It’s just so juicy,” he says as he sends you his signature failed wink, making you laugh as you call him an asshole. You had almost forgotten your phone in your hand until the video started playing. You watch, confused at first as to why you see your ex-coworker MaKenna on the screen. But the longer the video goes on, the worse it gets. She’s half naked, completely bare from the bottom down and bouncing on someone’s……. And then you see his face and your blood starts to boil. 

It’s Mikey, under your ex-coworker, letting her ride reverse cowgirl. His hands are on her hips and his hips are meeting hers and you’re gonna get sick. MaKenna wasn’t exactly a bad coworker or person, you knew she was promiscuous, and you didn’t judge her for it. But she knew you and Mikey were together. And though it was an unconventional relationship you had with him and his cousins, you were big on loyalty and each man had pledged their loyalty only to you. So for him to have done this to you broke you on the inside. 

Just as they start to get louder, tears start to burn in your eyes. Sy catches on to the noise coming from your phone and looks over the console to your phone. The second he recognizes his little cousin’s face, he’s pissed. He knew Mikey had been a slut, but it seems he needs to teach the little prick a lesson about messing around on the woman you promised to only give certain affections and attentions to. 

“That little fucker. I’m gonna beat his ass.” he mumbles, starting to tear out of the parking lot and speed towards home. You ignore him, locking your phone and wiping the tears out of your eyes. You had confided in all four that you had been cheated on before, and all of them had worked hard to earn your trust. You never thought one of them would do something like this to you. Before you could stop it, a sob burst from your chest and out of your mouth. That’s when the dam really broke and you started crying uncontrollably. 

“Oh baby. I’m sorry, I know it hurts. I’m gonna get you home and August and I are gonna take good care of ya. And then we’re gonna hunt down that little prick and kick his ass real good.”  He reaches across the console to wipe the tears from your eyes before wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into his side. It’s uncomfortable, the console digging into your ribs, but you appreciate his attempt to love on you. 

You pull into the driveway ten minutes later. Sy doesn’t even give you a chance to get out on your own, opening your door and wrapping his arms around your waist and carrying you inside the house. August had heard you pull in and met you at the door, one brow lifted in question. Then he saw your red, puffy eyes and his ocean eyes turned murderous. You simply just unlocked your phone and handed it to him, Sy walking away to let him watch the video without hurting you even further. 

“What the actual fuck?!” 

“I’m already planning to kick his ass so get in line. But right now she is my main priority,” Sy hollers behind his back. Normally you would admonish him for talking about you in front of you like you weren’t even there, but you were too busy trying to keep air in your lungs to really care about telling him off. Your chest hurt and your eyes stung and it just felt like your world had come crashing down. You knew you would owe Sy big time when this was over. August too. 

Sy had carried you into the master bathroom where August had set up a bubble bath with candles and snacks. He had taken to spoiling you after your long shifts. You had found out very quickly he was dominant and took his duties as a dom seriously, and that included pampering you with only the best. Most weekend evenings/mornings after your shifts at the bar include a hot bubble bath with your favorite wine, snacks, and a good foot rub. That is usually followed by a full body massage with your favorite lotion. If you happened to stay awake during the massage, you’d then get the best dick down to finish you off and send you to sleep more than satisfied. 

“Baby doll?” Sy’s voice pulls you out of whatever trance you were in. You look up into his eyes, before looking over his shoulder to August’s concerned gaze. You hate the pity you see in both of their eyes, hate knowing they are looking at you in such a vulnerable state. 

“Do you want us to help you, Kitten?” August asks. You don’t know what you want. You want them there for comfort, as that’s what partners are for. You want the floor to open you up and swallow you whole. You want to forget that Mikey even exists and that you ever met him. You don’t know…..

August must see it on your face because he moves to the tub and takes the plug out to let the water drain. He then swiftly moves to the shower and turns it on as hot as you can stand it. Sy slowly starts to ease your shirt up and over your head, before moving to your jeans. You know there is nothing sexual motivating his actions, but you can’t help but bring your arms up to cover yourself. Sy squats down to his knees to help you take off your pants, and August moves to leave a kiss on your forehead before pulling out his phone and walking out of the room. 

Sy moves you bodily to the shower, helping you slip in before telling you he’ll be in the other room when you get out.. You see him set out a towel and fresh clothes from Walter’s closet before leaving the bathroom. The sound of the door clicking shut resonates in the silent room. The only noise being the shower water hitting the tiled floor and your quiet sobbing. You slide to sit on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest and burying your head. 

You felt ridiculous. Part of the reason you had been so hesitant to even consider adding Mikey to your little group was his history with women. All four men were open about how he treated his flings when he was done with them. You were also concerned about his age. You didn’t normally go for guys around your age, and especially younger. Three years wasn’t much of a gap physically, but maturity wise had been a big red flag to you. 

Eventually you had cried yourself dry and the water had turned cold. You stood up, shutting off the water. You hadn’t even had the shower door fully open before Walter burst in the bathroom. You wanted to cover yourself, but he didn’t give you the chance. Before you could blink, he had you wrapped in his  big arms, the wool of his sweater scratching against your bare skin. He sways you back and forth and you’re bombarded with the memory of him telling you this is how he used to get Faye to sleep when she was a baby. 

“I’m so sorry, baby. August called me and I rushed right over.” he slowly releases you when he remembers you’re fully naked. He moves back to the toilet where he gets the towel and wraps it around you. You want to argue that you can dry and dress yourself, but the energy just doesn’t seem to be there. Once he’s satisfied that you've dried off enough, he pulls one of his softer sweaters over your head, lifting your arms and slotting them into the sleeves. He kneels with a pair of boxers in hand, lifting each foot and sliding the shorts up your legs. He makes a show of bringing them up over your ass, and you give him a small smile. All three of these beautiful men, trying to make you feel better. How did you get so lucky?

When Walter is happy that you are finally ready for bed, he scoops you up by the thighs and carried you into the bedroom. You see Sy already laying in bed, shirtless but wearing pajama bottoms. You hear August in the kitchen, assuming he’s putting away the snacks he had planned for your nightly routine. Walter lays you in the middle of the California King sized bed, right next to Sy, before moving to the closet to change into pajamas while Sy turns and snuggles into your side, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and ribs. 

“I know this probably won’t mean much, but he doesn’t deserve you, Sugar.” Sy mumbles into your chest. Even now, you can’t help but find amusement in his obsession with your tits. His favorite pillows, he once said. 

“Thanks, Sy.” you mumble. You feel the bed dip beside you, turning to find Walter getting in on your right side. He’s also shirtless only wearing pajama bottoms, and the fuzz on his chest is thicker than the others. 

“He’s right, Love. You are an incredible woman, and it’s Michael’s loss if he can’t see that.” his voice rumbles through your whole body. They’re both so warm, so soft. You internally chuckle at the contradiction. All four of them had godlike bodies, firm muscles and virile masculine strength. You lose your amusement as you think of Mikey again. 

You look up as August walks in, dressed just as the other two. You were prepared for the nightly argument of who was going to cuddle with you and how. When it came to sex, these men worked together like a well oiled machine, each one moving perfectly in sync with the other to bring you the highest heights of pleasure. But when it came to cuddles, they fought over you like children with a teddy bear. But none of that happened. With Sy on his side to your left, Walter on his side to your right, and you on your back in the middle, August made his way between your legs and laid right on top of you. His torso was half on top of you, with his head on your sternum right below your breasts, half on the bed between your thighs, and the rest of his body between your spread calves. 

“I feel like I’m in a puppy pile,” you mutter, causing all three men to chuckle. They quiet quickly though, all three concluding you’re trying to hide your pain through humor. Three sets of arms squeeze you tightly, and you soak up the love radiating from the three beautiful souls surrounding you.  Maybe this heartbreak will be easier to get over when you have three other boyfriends to take care of you. Soon, the snoring coming from Sy, the soothing hand August has rubbing your thigh, and Walter playing with your hair, on top of all of the crying you’ve done, lulls you into a deep sleep.

*************************************************************************************************************

When you wake up, the sun is shining through the windows. You’re used to the sun being high in the sky when you wake up, but never have you woken up with one of the guys, aside from Mikey, still in bed with you. Sy was never one to sleep much, years of military training now just ingrained into who he is as a human being. August was usually at the gym, and Walter would be on a case. So it shocked you to still have Walter by your side. You look up to his face and find he is watching you. You should have figured he wouldn’t have been asleep.

“How long have you been up?” you ask, voice hoarse from sleep. Your throat hurt from crying so much last night, and your head was throbbing. Despite having slept deeply for a decent amount of time, you were still exhausted. Your eyes burned and your body felt heavy. 

“A few hours. I was up for a bit, but I didn’t want you to wake up alone.” he whispers. You always wondered how he always knew what you needed, even if it was something as small as keeping his voice low because your head hurts, when you didn’t even tell him. 

“Thanks, babe. Where’s the other two?” you look around. You can hear someone working around in the kitchen. The smells of bacon and eggs finally hits your senses and your stomach grumbles. You silently wished Walter hadn’t heard. Out of the four, well now three, he was the most anal about making sure you ate enough and stayed hydrated. You look up and there it is, the pointed look he gives you everytime.

“Love, did you eat last night?” You look down in shame. You had a horrible habit of getting so caught up at work you forget to order food from the kitchen before it closes. 

“You see, what had happened was..” you start. Walter rolls his eyes and huffs, beginning to roll away from you. You pull him back in protest. 

“Listen to me! I didn’t have the chance to eat because I had to get the bar put together because Katie had to leave early and then we got slammed and Sheri couldn’t keep up with her tables so they kept coming up to the bar and then we just, didn’t slow down until after close, so Sy and I were going to go get something to eat and then….” you trail off, your brain bringing up the awful memory of what your….. You’re not even sure what to call Mikey. Walter notices where your mind seems to go and quickly put his hand under your chin and raises your eyes to his.

“Sy is making breakfast,” he starts.

“Fuck yeah,” you mumble. Sy was the best cook in the entire group, and his breakfast was fire. Walter rolls his eyes at that.

“And August went to the gym. Grumbling something about still being pissed off.” That last bit of information didn’t surprise you at all. August was crazy, as you had seen one night when a customer had gotten too handsy and decided to fight Auggie when he tried to throw him out. You were not ashamed to admit it made you so horny that you jumped him in the car at the end of your shift. It may have also revealed just how toxic you could be at times to the entire group. None of them seemed to mind though.

Just then, Sy came into the bedroom, carrying a tray full of food. You see french toast and biscuits and gravy, eggs, bacon, ham, fruit. All of your favorite breakfast foods. God you love these men. Sy sees you eyeing the tray and raises his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Well good morning to you too, Sugar. You sleep alright?” He kisses your forehead while balancing the tray in his hand. You soak up the affection, staring at him as he brings the tray to sit in your lap. You pick up a fork and dig in, almost inhaling the fruit and french toast, feeding bites to each man beside you. It was almost perfect, until you heard the front door open and Mikey’s voice rings through the house. Your hand tightens around your fork and Walter is quick enough to move the tray off your lap as Sy flies off the bed and out of the room. You both quickly follow him, knowing deep down you wouldn’t be able to keep Sy from kicking his ass. 

You stand at the top of the stairs and watch as Sy barrels towards Mikey, shoving him against the wall and holding him up by the front of the shirt. Walter moves you to the side, coming to stand on the steps in front of you but not shielding you from watching what was happening. Mikey’s eyes go wide and his hands go up at his sides. 

“Woah, woah, woah. Easy, big guy. Good morning to you, too.” It wasn’t unusual for Sy and Mikey to wrestle in the house. But the look on Sy’s face told Mikey this was anything but playful. 

“How was your studying session, Mike?” Sy snarls. His voice sent shivers down your spine. You almost feel sorry for anyone who had to go against your Captain. It was joked once that he was a bull, once he sees red there’s no running from him.

“It was fine. What is your problem, man?’ Mike stutters. That just seems to piss Sy off even more because he removes one hand and pulls it back before punching Mike in the stomach. The younger man doubles over before Sy lifts him back into a standing position. Part of you wants to step in. Yes Mike hurt you, but you don’t usually condone physical violence unless absolutely necessary. But on the other hand, Karma is a bitch, and he’s had more than enough coming his way. 

“Now, you wanna try that again?” Sy growls. Mikey looks up to you, and your heart breaks all over again. You see the moment it clicks in his head, and shame fills his eyes. 

“Sweetcheeks…” he tries. Sy shakes him hard.

“You don’t get to speak to her. You’re lucky August isn’t here because he wouldn’t be as easy on you as I am right now. I thought we had a clear understanding on what this relationship meant to her, and now you’ve set all of us back. She’s going to shut herself off and we’ll have to work double to get her trust back. Fucking idiot.” Sy pushes him harder into the wall before dropping him not so gently to the floor. You move past Walter and make your way down the stairs. You put a hand on Sy’s shoulder and he looks at you. You can hear his thoughts as loud as if he said them out loud; ‘you don’t have to do this’.

Mikey stands up and looks at you, flashing his puppy dog eyes and pouty lips. Normally it would melt your heart, but right now it just turns it to stone. You wonder how you would be responding if you didn’t have the strength of the two men behind you.

“Taking summer classes, huh? Does the name MaKenna ring a bell?” you seethe. You had once confided in how insecure she made you feel. She was your height but very petite. You had noted how her breasts were the perfect size that they just stayed perky, making you self-conscious of your larger chest that hangs low. Not that you didn’t love your body, but loving yourself is a long, bumpy road. 

“Babycakes,” Mikey tries again. 

“What did Sy say? You don’t have the privilege of speaking to me. Ya know, Mikey, it took a lot of convincing from your cousins to even get me to consider giving you a chance, based off your history with women. I knew from the get go this was going to end badly but I had that littlest bit of hope that I was wrong. I can’t even stand looking at you right now.” you say, turning away from him. You move but before you get too far, he reaches out and grabs your arm. You spin quickly, and before anyone can blink you slap him. Hard as fuck. Your palm stings and his face immediately turns red. You turn and run before he can see you start to cry. 

“Great contact, Sugar.” Sy mumbles as you rush past him, giving Mikey one last hard look before following you upstairs. Walter, who had been silent during this entire altercation, finally looked at Mike. 

“I’m not going to discuss any of this with you, right now. I’m more disappointed than angry,” he starts. Mikey rolls his eyes.

“No offense, Walt, but I don’t need the dad lecture at the moment,” he says sarcastically. That’s what finally set the normally stoic detective off. 

“Obviously you do! Maybe if that piece of shit father of yours would have stuck around you would have turned out better.” That fucking stung. Mikey had taken some time to open up about his dad bailing on him and his mom. He blamed himself for a long time, something you strived to help him heal. 

“But he didn’t, so now it is up to myself and the other two to teach you something about being a man. I understand that before her you made no commitments to the women you took to your bed. But when you actually make a promise to someone you don’t break it like that. I’m going to ask you once to leave. Take a few days at a friend’s while we discuss how we want to proceed from here.” 

Mikey went to protest but the look on Walter’s face killed the argument before it could leave his mouth. He knew he fucked up, and he hears his mother’s voice in his head telling him to face the consequences of his decisions. 

“Can I at least grab some stuff before I go?” he mumbles. Walter nods but says nothing else. He watches as Mikey gathers some things before moving towards the front door. He pauses before opening the door, turning back to the older man.

“I’m sorry, Walt.” 

Walter shakes his head. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to. We all have some talking to do, but for right now let the dust settle. She needs to heal some from this. And before you start accusing me of choosing a woman over family, remember that you are the one in the wrong in this scenario.” 

And with that Walter went upstairs, leaving Mike to walk out of the house with his tail between his legs. Just as he was getting to his car, August pulls up beside him. Mike barely has his door open before August is on him, throwing him up against his car.

“I should beat the fuck out of you right now.” he hisses. If Mike thought Sy was scary, August was terrifying. He remembered one night when they all had had way too much to drink and August went to a really dark place mentally, giving a recount of just how many people he had killed during his time working for the CIA. Mike knew just how skilled August was in the arts of torture, and the thought alone of what he could do to him almost made him piss himself. 

“Listen, Sy has already given it to me and she left this beautiful hand print on my face, so give me a break, okay? You can come at me later when Walter lets me back in the house,” he grumbles. August locks in on that last bit of information.

“Walter kicked you out?” 

“He said it’s just for a few days.” August nods. 

“Well whatever you do, do NOT go back to that little bitch’s house. Find a GUY friend to stay with. And call your mother, before one of us does.”  

Mikey should have known that was coming. All three of the older men were fiercely loyal to his mother, and never missed an opportunity to let her know when he did something stupid. But this was probably the worst thing he could’ve told her. He sighs and gets in his car, thinking of who he could call that would let him stay a few days. 

*************************************************************************************************************

August makes his way to the bedroom immediately upon walking into the house. He didn’t want to leave you this morning but he was still so pissed by what happened early this morning he knew it would do no one any good if he didn’t get it out of his system. So he went to the gym where he almost destroyed a punching bag and scared some staff members. One of his training buddies had finally had enough of him abusing the gym equipment and said something. 

“Now what did the bag ever do to you?” Geralt asks. The man was taller than August with more muscle, but he had a more even temperament. August puts his hands down and huffs. 

“I’m picturing Mikey’s face.” he growls. Geralt just raises a brow. August had talked about his little cousin and the relationship he had with the bartender. He’d been to the bar and wasn’t hesitant to admit he could understand the attraction. You were a beautiful woman, fiery and bubbly simultaneously. It was adorable. 

“What did the little idiot do this time?” Geralt had come to calling him that after he had drunkenly picked up a rabid raccoon out of the dumpster and it bit him. 

“He hooked up with MaKenna.” August says. Geralt pauses to rack his brain. 

“The little redhead that worked there before she was fired for having sex in the parking lot during her shift?” 

“That’s why they fired her?” August spins to face the larger man. You had said she was fired for employee misconduct and insubordination, but you never gave the specifics. “You know what, I’m not surprised.” 

“That’s what I heard from the owner at a house party a week after that, I think. Doesn’t matter. How did you guys find out?”

“The stupid shit sent her a video of them fucking to her, in the same bath tub in the cabin Sy took her to last weekend.” August shakes his head. Little shit couldn’t have even been original. 

“And he’s still breathing?” Geralt looks surprised. 

“For now. But when I see him….” August’s hands curl into fists at his side and he almost starts shaking. Geralt gives a hum and then pats his back, turning to leave his friend to stew in his feelings and planning a nice phone call to the beautiful bartender with a broken heart at home. 

Shaking the memory from his mind, August opens the bedroom door to see you curled into Sy’s chest, shoulders shaking but no noise coming from you. Only the vision of the bright hand print on Mikey’s face calms his rising anger. He hears Walter in the bathroom and the shower turning on. Sy finally notices him and makes eye contact. It was almost a telepathic conversation between the two men: our baby needs us.

August turns to his left as Walter walks in, steam following him from the running shower. Sy nudges you up with murmurs of needing to calm down. You grudgingly obey, make eye contact with August before quickly looking away and following them to the shower. August takes this chance to change the sheets, rolling his eyes when he sees the crumbs on the comforter. He’d told them time and again not to let you eat in bed, but they never listen. He’ll let it slide this time, given current circumstances. 

After fixing the bed and taking the breakfast down to the kitchen, he starts on the dishes. You had expressed only once that it was your least favorite chore, and he had taken it upon himself to be the designated dishwasher of your group. Despite the shower running upstairs, the water was still scalding and he thanked Walter once again for finally caving and buying a new hot water heater and for Sy saving them money by installing it himself. The burning pain from the water distracted him from the heartbreak he felt coming from you. You always joked you had a radiating energy that affected those around you, but he didn’t think it was a joke.

When he first saw you, you shined so brightly you almost glowed. Your smile was like a beaming ray of sunlight, sending warmth straight through his heart. At first he thought he was dying, that you were an angel of some sort that had shown up to take him to his after life. But one look at Sy and Walter and he knew he wasn’t alone. Bringing you into their lives was like having eternal summer. And now Mikey had gone and shut your light off. He was lucky he was kicked out. 

As soon as everything was dried and put away, August made his way upstairs where Sy was carrying you out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Walter followed behind with a brush and some lotion in hand. They met eyes for a moment before moving to sit beside you and Sy on the bed. Sy had you his lap sideways, rocking back and forth while you controlled your breathing. He let you cry in the shower until your breathing turned ragged and he recognized the onset of a panic attack setting in. Walter starts brushing your hair while August takes the lotion and starts rubbing your feet. Soon your breathing evens out and the sniffling quiets. 

All three men watch you and you make eye contact with August. He gives you a small smile and brings your ankle up to his mouth for a kiss. His mustache tickles your skin and you pull it back with a small shriek. This causes all three men to chuckle. 

“Are you okay, Kitten?” August mumbles. Walter and Sy turn to you pointedly. You hadn’t said anything to them since you ran away from Mikey. They knew you weren’t okay, but they needed you to open up to them so they could help. 

“Not really.” you whisper. Your hand still stings from slapping Mikey, but even more so your chest hurts. It feels irrational to you. You have three gods in front of you, ready and willing to worship you, and you’re heartbroken over someone you knew was going to hurt you from the beginning. “I think I’m more pissed than anything. What if this ruins what we have? I don’t want to be here around him but that means I won’t be able to be with you guys as much.” 

Sy burst out laughing. You look at him offended, only to catch the amusement on August’s face as well. You turn around to look at Walter and find him chuckling. 

“What the fuck is so funny?” you almost yell. August rubs his hand along your naked thigh, bringing your attention down to him.

“Kitten, if you think we’re going to let that little twerp ruin one of the best things to happen to us, you must not hold us in too high of a regard.” he looks at you pointedly. 

“Yeah, Sugar. You got me fucked up if you think I’m going to throw you away because of this. If anything, it’s Mikey that’s going in the trash.” Sy says with a smirk. You look at him tentatively, and he gives you his wink/blink.  You give him a smile when you feel Walter kiss the top of your head. You look up to make eye contact with your furry lover. 

“Besides, I kicked Mikey out,” he says. You immediately sit upright in Sy’s lap, scrambling to stand and look at Walter full on. You bring your hands to your hips, causing the towel to fall and you rush to catch it. 

“What do you mean you kicked him out? Don’t cause issues with your family because of me, Walter, that’s crazy.” He just smiles at you. It isn’t fair how pretty he is, how pretty all three of them are. You shouldn’t be jealous because your boyfriends have prettier eyelashes than you do. He reaches for you, bringing you between his legs, spreading them wide to make room for your thick thighs. 

“It’s only for a few days, Love. Give him some time to think about what he did and for all of us to cool down.” 

“No promises on that last one,” August grumbles. Sy gives a hum of agreement. 

“Regardless,” Walter starts, giving a pointed look to the other two men, “even if Michael is here, you still have every right to be in this house. Or we can start spending more time at your place. We can work around this, love.” He grabs your hands in his and brings you close to him. “We love you, Y/N.” he whispers. Tears start to fill your eyes. 

“Yeah, Sugar. Sure, your apartment is small and crowded, and you have all those pretty rocks I’m too scared to touch,” Sy starts in, making you giggle.

“They’re called crystals, Sy.” you mumble.

“Whatever, they’re part of your little witchy shit and sets me on edge. But I wouldn’t be anywhere else, cause I love ya.” 

“Aww you guys,” you say as the tears really start to flow. You look to August, waiting for him to take his turn to confess his feelings. He just rolls his eyes. 

“All this sappy shit. Yes, I love you. This is probably the only time you’ll hear me say it out loud, so soak it up while you can,” he grumbles. You bend down and give him a kiss on his pouting lips. 

“I love you, too.” you whisper as you move away from him. 

“All of you. I didn’t want to get too close at the beginning because I didn’t want to have to choose between you three, but thank god you suggested this. I know I’m going to be a little down in the coming time, but I appreciate each of you and everything you do for me as a team and as individuals. I don’t know where I’d be without you guys.” 

All three men wrap their arms around you like some kind of awkward python of arms and hair. You run one hand through Walter’s hair and the other down August’s back. Sy buries his face in your chest, and you send thanks to the divine universe for the beautiful men it has sent you.

*************************************************************************************************************

Mikey pulls up to his friend Evan’s house, aware of the gloom cloud hanging above his head. He’d called him as soon as he pulled out of the driveway at Walter’s, giving as little details as possible as to why he needed a place to crash. Evan was a great friend, but he didn’t need any more judgment today. He was already dreading calling his mother. How was he going to explain to her that he cheated on his girlfriend that he was sharing with his three older cousins? Up until today he wasn’t even sure it WAS cheating. I mean, you had the other three, why couldn’t he fuck other people too? 

But then a memory arises in his mind. It had only been a couple months since you had met him and the other three men, and you were freaking out in the cooler at work. It had taken him five minutes to get you calmed enough to tell him what had you in such a state. When you finally confessed that you had caught feelings for him and his cousins, and that you didn’t want to choose between them, he had the best idea. That night he mentioned a poly relationship to August and Sy, unknowing of his cousin’s history of sharing women. When he pitched the idea to Walter, the detective was reluctant. But it took one look at your face when they presented the idea to you to convince the bear to cave.

What Mikey wasn’t prepared for was the jealousy he would feel sometimes. It seemed some days that you treated him like he was still a kid, and the nickname Baby Face only made it worse. The way you talked to the older three like they hung the moon, and the way you let them dominate you. It emasculated him, you never let him top you. When he saw MaKenna at a party one night, and she started flirting with him, he felt good. She talked to him like he knew what he was doing, stroking his ego and he felt on top of the world. 

Looking back now, he knows he fucked up. He wished he could blame the alcohol, but he knew deep down that wasn’t an excuse.When you agreed to the poly proposal, you had sat everyone down for a deep discussion on the rules of the relationship and how to operate the slippery slope of romance. You had pressed the seriousness of open communication. If anyone was having any issues, it needed to be talked over and worked  out. He just couldn’t bring himself to tell you how he was feeling. And now he may have lost you forever. 

He looks up from his steering wheel when he hears a tap on his window. Evan stands there, waving a hand to get his attention. He exits the car, avoiding Evan’s questioning gaze as he gathered his things and followed his friend into the house. He sets his bag on the couch, a deep sigh leaving his chest. He hears Evan say something but didn’t pay attention to his words. He sat down and reached into his bag for his computer when he noticed he had packed one of your shirts that must have gotten mixed in with his laundry somehow. He brings it up to his face and takes a whiff. It still smells like you even after going through the wash and he’s surprised to feel the tears burn his eyes. 

That’s how Evan finds him when he walks back in from the kitchen with two beers in hand. Mikey wasn’t one to show much emotion outside of excitement and horniness, so to see him crying really threw his friend for a loop.

“Hey, man, you okay?” he sets the two bottles on the coffee table and moves to sit beside Mike. As an EMT he’s used to having to de-escalate a situation, but this was different somehow. 

“I cheated on Y/N,” Mike gets out once he calms down. Evan raises his brows in surprise. He couldn’t lie and say he was shocked. He knew exactly the kind of guy Mike was and exactly the woman you were. He told Mike once that he thought he was too immature for someone like you. You were a grown ass woman, not the little girls Mikey liked to play around with. You had your shit together, a good job and your own place, paid your own bills and never really asked for nor needed help. He had expressed his concerns when Mike had told him you accepted his offer to be shared with his cousins. But alas, Mikey didn’t listen. It took all the willpower Evan had in him not to say ‘I told you so’. 

“With who?” he whispered. Getting loud and angry would do his friend no good right now. 

“That MaKenna chick, the one you met at the party that one time.” Evan racked his brain, shifting through faces and names. Mike had introduced him to plenty of chicks over the last two years of their friendship. 

“Is she the little redhead that worked at the bar with Y/N? The one who got fired for fucking a customer on the clock?” 

“Is that why they fired her?” Mikey looked up. 

“Yeah, man. My brother was there that night, said she ran out of the bar screaming and cussing everyone out. She may have also been drinking on the job.” Fuck, he had alot of apologizing to do. 

“Look, I’m your friend, and as your friend it’s my responsibility to tell you when you fucked up. And I love you, bro, but you’re fucking stupid. What was going through your head, man?” 

Mike wanted to be offended, but somewhere deep inside he was glad to have a friend who called him out on his shit. 

“I don’t know, man. We were at this party and I was drinking and Y/N has been so busy with work and caught up in the other guys that it just felt like I didn’t exist anymore, ya know? And then when we do have sex, she’s always in control. It made me feel….” he trailed off. Evan nods his head, encouraging him to continue. 

“I just felt like she saw me as some little kid she could play with, and never took me as seriously as she did them. I wasn’t a man in her eyes. And then MaKenna showed up and I just didn’t think. Now I may have lost her for some community pussy.” 

Evan laughed at the last sentence, fully aware the same could be said of Mikey. 

“Listen. You stay here for a few days, let her calm down, and figure out your own shit while you’re at it. And maybe get some ice for your face cause brother, she left her mark.”  Mikey reaches up and touches his still stinging cheek. 

“Leave it, let it be my reminder that I’m an idiot.” 

“If you say so, man. But it’s turning purple so better go find some make up at the drug store before people start asking if you’ve been abused.” 

*************************************************************************************************************

The next few days flew by in a blur. You’d had picked up extra shifts just to keep your mind focused on work and not Mikey. The three older men never really let you have a moment to yourself. If you were at work, they were sat at the very end of the bar. If you were at home, you had at least one wrapped around you and another lurking somewhere in the house. You didn’t mind, really. You had done enough crying over Mike. You, however, didn’t let them see the anxiety eating at you as the days drew closer to Mikey coming back to the house. Walter had tried to reassure you that everything would be fine, but you knew it would be so awkward. Sy had offered to move in with you, to which August protested that there wouldn’t be enough room because he’d be damned if he wasn’t moving in too. You let them bicker for an hour before shutting down the idea in general. 

Sy had made sure August had taken you out for the day when Mikey had finally come back to the house. He didn’t deserve to even be in your presence. When the younger man walked through the door, Sy had given him a dirty look before going into the kitchen to start on a dinner he had been dying to have you try. Mike just nodded his head in acceptance before moving to lock himself in his bedroom. He was in there for an hour before he heard your laugh coming in through the front door. He had to physically restrain himself from running out to greet you, instead putting on his noise cancelling headphones and closed his eyes, praying for the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

It went on like this for weeks. If he happened to run into you around the house, you would avoid looking at him and run to another room, usually followed by Sy or August. Walter had picked up a new case and had barely been home. If Mike went to the bar with the guys, you would have the other bartender serve him.

Watching Sy and August love up on you was torture. It was like they were being extra affectionate just to tease him, looking right in his eyes when giving you a deep kiss or long hug. The worst was when he would hear you three at night, his room being right under the bed. Your cries of pleasure haunting him in his dreams. 

It was getting towards the end of September, the weather was starting to get chilly and his classes were kicking his ass. He had resorted to moving in with Evan just so he could sleep. Walter had finally convinced you to move in, despite the tension between you and Mike. It hadn’t been an easy fight.

“Walt, baby, I really don’t think it’s a good idea. I still can’t even talk to him, living here is just going to make it worse.” you protest. It was on a rare night that he had come home from work and all three men had taken their turn ravishing you to exhaustion. You lay naked on your back in the middle of the bed, Sy half asleep with his face on your chest, August getting water and snacks in the kitchen, and Walter standing in the doorway to the bathroom towel drying his hair. 

“But your lease is coming up, baby, and they’re going to raise your rent. What are you going to do, if you can’t renew it and can’t afford it?” Sy whispers against your breast. 

“I can find another apartment, Sy.” 

“Besides, Mike moved in with his friend, Evan.” If it wasn’t for Sy’s heavy body keeping yours pinned to the bed, you would have sat straight up. 

“When?” you ask.

“A couple days ago. Said he couldn’t stand being in this house anymore, he couldn’t sleep.” 

You both turn when you hear August coming up the stairs with his arms full. You took note of your favorite cookies and some waters. He takes one to Walter, before moving to sit on your other side and feeding you a bite of cookie. 

“I just hope this doesn’t cause any problems with you guys and his mom…” you trail off. Walter had told you about Liza’s phone call when Mike told her what happened. You knew your boys probably got an earful, but eventually she came to understand her son was the one in the wrong. That still didn’t save them from the scolding over the idiocracy of their poly relationship. 

They didn’t care though. It wasn’t her relationship, therefore her opinion didn’t matter. 

“Liza will get over it. You, my dear, are OUR priority. Mikey moved out of his own freewill and you need a place to live. You can have Mikey’s old room, if you’re worried about losing a space to call your own.” Tears come to your eyes. God, you love them so much. 

“Yeah, you can put all your witchy shit in there,” Sy says. All of you just laugh and carry on with your night. 

August and Sy had helped you pack your apartment and, with a little help from Geralt, who had recently started spending time with your little group, had moved you in with your polycule. You sold most of your furniture aside from your dressers and mattress. Walter had even set up a space around the house for your cat, happy to have a free mouse catcher for when the rodents invaded during the snowy months. Everything was going great, you had your boys, work was banging so you had some extra cash in your pocket. Soon the sting from Mikey’s betrayal ebbed away to a dull throb. 

It was mid-October when shit really hit the fan. The band at work was super popular around the local community and everyone was getting lit. Your boss had given you the night off per your request, but you just couldn’t seem to stay away from work, even off the clock. You had dressed up extra nice tonight, donning an outfit that showed off all your goodies. Sy and August had been to the barber a few days before and looked so yummy. Walter had opted to take the night and spend time with Faye during her time off for fall break. You had invited Geralt but he said the loud noises would mess with his sensitive ears. 

After grabbing drinks and saying hi to your friends in the band, you take a seat at a table with the guys, talking to some regulars and friends. The night was going great, for at least an hour. Until Mikey walked in. Just seeing him pissed you off again. You made eye contact for just a split second before turning away, giving him the cold shoulder. Nothing gets past your two soldiers though, and both men clock onto their younger cousin making his way through the crowd. Sy slings one arm around your shoulders and August moves to block you into the booth, stuck between the two beefcakes. You keep your face forward, your focus solely on the band. 

‘Fuck she looks good’ Mikey thinks. You had put on his favorite teddy, tits pushed almost to your chin, tucked into a pair of jeans so tight they might as well have been painted on. Your hair was curled and wild, and your make up was done in his favorite style. He missed the nights of watching the mascara run down your face from choking on his….. He shakes his head, starting to regret coming out tonight. One of your coworkers had told him you had taken the night off, and he was in the mood to drink himself stupid. He hadn’t spent a night sober since he moved out. He can’t even self pleasure any more, the guilt killing his sex drive. He refused to look at women. Not when the one he wanted was so close yet so far away.  He tries ignoring the glares being sent to him from Sy and August. They hadn’t forgiven him for his mistake. To be honest, he hadn’t exactly forgiven himself. 

When the band goes on break, you extract yourself from your loving bodyguards to go to the restroom. Locking yourself in the large stall, you turn your back to lean against the wall, taking a deep breath, before doing your thing and leaving the bathroom. You sneak out the door to the back patio quickly, before Sy or August can see you. You loved them deeply, but the past couple weeks they have been a tad overbearing. You move past all the smokers and into the back parking lot, taking in the cold air, letting it freeze/burn your lungs. 

The healing you had done the past few weeks seemed to fly out the window at seeing him again. You missed him. You hated it, but you missed him so much. The stupid faces he would make when you were in a bad mood. The puppy dog eyes he would give you when asking for a bite of your food. The way he vigorously rubbed his face in your chest when he was tired and acting like a toddler. The memories cause tears to sting your eyes, and you put your fingers under your eyes to keep your makeup from running. 

A cough from behind brings you back to the present, turning to find Mikey standing behind you. He had his head down, rubbing the back of his neck and scuffing his foot on the ground. It pleased and pained you to see him looking so rough. He was always pale, but his skin was almost gray. His hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in days and his clothes were rumpled. He looked like shit, and you loved it and hated it in a strange emotional paradox. 

“Hey,” you whisper, and your heart breaks all over again. The circles under his eyes wouldn’t have been covered by the best concealer in the world. You just want to pull him into you and love every ounce of pain out of his eyes. But he broke your trust and you have to stand your ground. 

“Hi,” he whispers back. It’s tense for a moment, and you’re wishing you would have snuck your pack of smokes into your purse without August seeing. All of them knew you had your vices, but August was adamant about breaking this specific bad habit. As if reading your mind, Mikey hands you a cigarette, and you take it with a quiet ‘thank you’. He lights it for you, and you both look each other in the eye before turning away again.

“Mikey-”

“I-” 

You both speak at the same time, before smiling softly at each other. You motion for him to start first, anxious to hear what he has to say. 

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. What I did was wrong and I really hurt you. Nothing can excuse what I did, but if it’s any consolation, I feel like shit,” he clears his throat, and avoids eye contact with you. 

“You look like shit,” you huff. He throws his head back and barks a laugh. His shoulders shake and you know it’s not because he finds anything funny. 

“Thank you, Sweetcheeks.” You smile at his nickname. 

“Seriously, Mikey, are you okay? You look like you haven’t seen the sun in weeks.” 

“No, babes, to be honest I’m not. I can’t sleep without drinking half a bottle a night, I don’t think I’ve had a solid meal in two weeks, and my sex drive is completely gone. Hell, I can’t even masturbate!” The more he talks, the more manic he sounds until he shouts that last sentence, drawing the eyes of some customers walking by. You slap your hand to your face to hide from embarrassment. 

“Sorry. But yeah, I’m not okay. But I brought this on to myself,” he mumbles. You would disagree, but you can’t. He made his decision, now he can lay in the bed he made. 

“You look great, though. They must be taking good care of you,” he says almost bitterly. 

“Yes, they are. I’m actually using your old room as an art studio.”

“Wow. That’s great.” You just nod your head. And then it really processes in your head, and you can’t help the petty happiness that fills you at the thought of him not being able to get it up. Your face must give away how you’re feeling.

“What?” Mikey asks.

“Would it be shitty of me to say it pleases me immensely that your dick isn’t working right now?” Now Mikey really laughs, from deep in his belly and full of mirth. You start laughing with him, and when you make eye contact, it only seems to amuse you further. Soon you both are wiping tears and holding your stomachs. 

“No, babe, I wouldn’t fault you at all for taking pleasure in my pain. Matter of fact, if my suffering makes you happy, I will do it gladly.” You roll your eyes at his cheesiness, but damn it if that wasn’t what made you fall in love with him to begin with. 

“I can admit I miss you, too, Mikey. But don’t think that this simple conversation is going to make everything magically better. You have a lot of trust to build back up, and not just with me.” You warn him. His eyes light up, and like a trick of the shadows around you, his skin almost seemed to glow back to life. 

“I’ll do whatever you want, Sweetcheeks. I promise, I won’t so much as LOOK at another woman. You won’t regret this.” His body jerks forward, arms open to hug you before he hesitates. You open your arms in acceptance, ready to move past this awkwardness and be with your Mikey again. After a long few minutes of just soaking in each other after weeks apart, you move back and wipe your eyes once more. A gust of wind blows around you and sends a shiver over your naked shoulders and back.   

“Let’s get you inside, Sweetcheeks,” Mikey says, shrugging off his zip up jacket and throwing it over your shoulders. You both move to go back inside just as the door opens and August and Sy come barreling out. August glares at the cigarette still in your hand while Sy shoots a dirty look at Mike’s jacket around you. 

“Uh oh, Mikey, we should probably put out the smokes. Here comes Captain Killjoy and Agent Sourpuss,” you giggle. 

“Careful, Sweetcheeks, they’re likely to punish you,” he jokes back. Two sets of cerulean eyes study you and Mikey closely. August looks ready to murder the younger man, while Sy just looks confused.

“So what’s going on here?” the bull grumbles.

“Mike and I have had a conversation, and he has apologized,” you start slowly. You’re unsure just how well they will react to this news.

“So one little ‘I’m sorry’ and he’s just forgiven?” August seethes. You take a deep breath. You love your Scorpio man, but Lord did he test you.

“It’s not all magically fixed, no. We still need to have a very long talk, and it’s going to take a lot of work, but for right now, tonight, we are going to leave the past in the past, let go of any grudges,” you look pointedly to both men, “and go enjoy our friend Alex’s singing and eat some good food because you,” you turn to Mikey, “are skin and bones. Am I clear?” 

You had used what you call your ‘mom voice’, leaving no room for argument. All three men follow you back into the bar, Mikey sitting by the wall and letting you lock him into the booth. Things were going well until SHE walked in. That redheaded little hussy. It was a good thing Sy listened to you when you told him to keep you away from the whiskey. The last thing you needed was to go to jail tonight. None of the guys seemed to have noticed, so you chose to ignore it. 

At the next intermission, Mikey decided he’d take the opportunity to get another round for the table. You kept your eyes stuck to him the entire time, launching yourself from the booth when you see MaKenna walk up to Mikey. He glances at her before looking around the room nervously. Sy and August follow but stay a few feet away. You sidle up to Mikey and wrap an arm around his waist and using the other hand to bring his face down to yours and sealing a deep kiss to his lips. You open your mouth and make a show of mingling your tongue with Mike’s, letting this bitch know he’s yours. Mikey follows you as you pull away, whining low in his throat when you break the kiss. You then turn to the girl beside you.

“Oh, hi. I forgot you existed,” you say. She’s looking between you and Mikey, very confused.

“I didn’t know you and Mike were dating,” she says. You narrow your eyes at her, knowing she was lying. She knew damn well what she did. 

“MaKenna was just trying to hook up with me again. I was just telling her no,” Mikey rushed to tell you. The last thing he needed after making up with you was you thinking he hadn’t changed. The only acknowledgement you give him is a hum and a nod. 

“Yeah, after he fucked you he realized he needed a real woman. I’m surprised you even have the guts to show up here after being fired the way you were. You really must feel no shame,” the venom dripping from your tongue could kill a horse, but damn if it wasn’t sexy. Mikey was trying so hard to hide the tightening in his jeans. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” the smaller female starts. 

“Oh, please. You got caught fucking another woman’s man, again, on the clock. And when his girlfriend showed up to kick your ass, it caused drama that didn’t need to be started here at work. You think you would have learned from that, but apparently you have no sense of self-preservation. I suggest you start looking for something safe to do, because I won’t be as nice as the last girl. You got lucky a bouncer was able to convince her not to knock your teeth in, but the bouncers here love me and would highly encourage it. So find someone else to fuck with, before that butterface of yours gets permanently damaged.” 

All three of your boys groan. Seeing you so riled up was so hot, and they knew hearing you threaten someone shouldn’t have been as sexy as it was. The girl in front of you flinches before walking away from you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose. You’re typically not a confrontational person, but it felt so good to put someone in their place. And to do it without laying a hand on her. 

“That was hot as fuck,” Mikey says behind you. You chuckle, turning back to flash him a flirty smile before grabbing his hand and moving to go grab the other two. The lust you see in August’s eyes sets you aflame. Sy just looks giddy, like a child. He knows exactly what’s about to happen. After grabbing your things and saying your goodbyes, feeling smug as you watch MaKenna move around the bar to avoid you. You pay out your tabs, leaving generous tips for the bartender and leaving with promises to fill her in on all the dirty details later. Gossip makes the work shift go by faster and Monday night was gonna be a HOT, tea party. 

You almost run to Sy’s truck, August following closely behind to his car parked in the next spot over. Sy barrels past his cousin and quickly grabs you, turning you around and grabbing your cheeks in both hands. He tilts your head back and stares deeply into your eyes.

“I hate every bitch that isn’t you, you absolute fucking goddess.” he rumbles. The absolute desire radiating from his bulky form affecting the other two men. You giggle almost manically as he kisses you sloppily. You can taste the Jack he’s been drinking all night.  He smacks his lips when he pulls away, reaching down to slap your ass before turning and climbing into his Chevy. August chuckles at his cousin’s antics, turning and unlocking his car. Mikey opens the door to the truck for you, helping you in by pushing under your asscheeks. It’s almost like your lovers had an obsession or something. 

August eyes the actions closely, still suspicious of his younger cousin’s motives. Mikey catches his eye and looks down to the ground. You notice and give August a pointed look that said ‘stop it’. He couldn’t help it. It was his job to protect you, even from emotional pain. You stare even harder until  he softens his expression. 

“August, do you mind giving Mike a ride back home with us?” you say so sweetly it almost rotted his teeth. He huffs at you and you give him the bedroom begging eyes. The same eyes you give him when……. God damn it. You really knew how to get under his skin. He rolls his eyes to try to hide just how much you affect him.

“Fine. See you back at the house.” Mike hesitated, but moved when you poked him in the ribs and motioned for him to get in the car before shutting yourself in the truck, kicking your feet up on the dash. The Chevy rumbles to life and Sy peels out, leaving a trail of smoke in the parking lot. August rolls his eyes at the unnecessary display of masculinity. ‘Dumb country boy’. 

The ride is silent and awkward, Mike fidgeting with his hoodie strings and bouncing his legs. August kept his focus on the road, ignoring the anxiety vibrating off the younger man. Ten minutes felt like an eternity. When they pulled in the drive, Mike finally felt like he could breathe. Sy had just turned off the truck when August put the car in park. You hopped out of the driver’s side, hair sticking out sideways and your lipstick smudged. Sy follows, mouth and cheeks red from your make out session. August rolls his eyes. 

“Impatient asshole.” Sy just shoots him a smug smile. You giggle and reach up to kiss your agent, knowing he was just grumpy cause Sy got to have you first. He hums in satisfaction as you pull away, picking you up and walking you into the house. You take note of Walter’s car parked in the garage and try to wiggle out of August’s arms to go greet your other lover. Mike follows hesitantly, hands deep in his pockets and dragging his feet on the ground. The past several times he’s been in this house hasn’t exactly been pleasant. 

August finally relents and lets you down. As soon as your feet hit the floor you’re on your way up the stairs, almost tripping in your haste. A strong arm wraps around your waist to catch you, and you mumble a thank you without looking at who it is and continuing your way up to the detective. He’s laying in bed with a case file in his hand, one arm behind his head. His hair is wet and he’s only in boxers. He looks up when you come in through the door, eyes light and a flush in your cheeks. 

“You’re home early, and it looks like you had a good time. You’ve been absolutely ravished” You climb onto the bed, the alcohol finally catching up to you. 

“I did! Mikey apologized and came home with us. Sy is at fault for the ruined lipstick.” The detective raises his brows in surprise. 

“That’s great, Love.” he says, getting distracted by the three men filing into the room behind you. He makes eye contact with the youngest man, giving him a nod in greeting. Mike nods back, at least Walter isn’t as intimidating as August. 

“And then that bitch showed up at the bar, that’s why we came home early,” you growl. Walter looks confused before Sy happily clarifies. The detective thought it odd his cousin was so excited to relay the news that the girl who Mike had cheated on you with had shown up to ruin your night. 

“She tried hooking up with me again. Sweetcheeks, I didn’t tell you about her flirting with me so you would threaten her.” Mike explains. Walter raises his brows further and looks at you pointedly. Sometimes you forget he’s actually a cop. 

“I didn’t threaten her! I told her she needed to find something safe to do, that’s just giving good advice.” you grumble.

“And it was so sexy when she did it.” Sy exclaims. Well, that explains that. You flush at the praise, tingles running down your spine. Walter chances a look at August, and the memory of you, the deadly venom in your tone, as you threatened the smaller girl just fed the flames. The lust in the agent’s eyes and the giddiness from Sy sparks something in Walter as well. You quickly catch on to the energy change in the room, biting your lip and making eye contact with each man. Mikey is unsure, though. You had just forgiven him for sleeping with someone else. Would you even want him to touch you? You notice his hesitation, beckoning him forward with a crook of your finger. He knows that look, and he’s happy to let you be in charge again. 

He kneels at the foot of the bed, hands laid flat on his thighs, head down in submission. You hum in satisfaction, crawling to get closer to him, ass in the air and hips swaying back and forth. You hear a chorus of groans ring around the room, but keep your focus on the boy in front of you. 

“Poor Mikey. He confessed to me earlier that he’s been having trouble getting it up here lately, boys.” 

“Serves him right,” August spits. You want to roll your eyes at the hostility, but know that would only lead to a paddling later. 

“But he’s apologized, Auggie. It’s time to move past it, don’t you think he’s suffered enough?” It took Mike a moment to remember the dynamic at play here. You submitted to August, and he submitted to both of you. He could only imagine the hell he had coming in his near future. 

“By the universe, sure. But I think you have been too lenient on him, Kitten.”

“Agreed.” That comes from Sy. You turn behind you to look at Walter, who gives his nod in agreement to the other two. 

“So what do you suggest I do?” Sy shrugs.

“That’s up to you, Sugar. You’re in charge here.” You contemplate for a moment before an idea pops into your head. Mike gulps as he watches a sinister smile bloom across your lipstick smeared mouth. The deviant look in your eyes lets him know he’s in for a long night. 

“Your punishment, Baby Face, is to look but not touch.”

Oh yeah, he’s well and truly fucked. 

*************************************************************************************************************

You flop back onto the bed, gasping for breath and covered in sweat. Sy groans beside you, just as sweaty and breathless. Walter leans his back against the headboard, and August and Mikey are curled together on your naked thighs. One solid hour of sex and passion had sobered you up. As the endorphin high slowly subsides, you move to get up, attempting to extract yourself from the pile of skin and hair and sweat. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” Sy grumbles.

“I have to pee, let me up.” you grumble. August and Mike groan as they move off you, Walter giving you a hand to keep your balance as you stand on the mattress and maneuver your way off the bed and to the bathroom. You start the shower, not enjoying the sticky feeling of sweat and cum drying on your skin. Once deemed warm enough, you step under the spray and the let water wash over you. 

You close your eyes and turn to wash your face. Now sober, and in a post-nut clarity state of mind, you think about Mikey and just how easily you gave into him tonight. The boys were right, you were too lenient. You said you needed to talk, but what would you say? You had already told him he hurt you, and that was still needing to be further discussed, but you also wanted to know why. You let out a deep sigh and run a hand down your face. 

You flinch when you feel an arm wrap around you, turning to find Walter giving you a worried look.  You give him a small smile, turning back into the water to finish scrubbing the make up from your face, before turning to grab your body wash. He stops you, grabbing the soap and your loofah before gently starting to wash your chest. You hum, closing your eyes and leaning back to let the water flow through your hair. 

“What were you thinking about, Love?” Walter asks softly, causing you to open your eyes. 

“Mikey, and the talk we all need to have.” you whisper. “Just don’t know how I want to go about it.”

“You want to talk it through with me? Help process your thoughts before going in blind?” you huff a laugh out of your nose, before nodding. 

“I want to know why he did it, but at the same time, I’m scared to really find out.” He nods his head, putting his hands on your shoulders to turn you so he can start washing your back. 

“I’m also confused on how to get over the hurt. The anxiety and that little voice whispering in my ear that he’s going to do it again.” You feel him hum as he starts to massage your shoulders, releasing the knots in your neck. 

“Unfortunately, my dear, that little voice may never go away. But Michael put that voice there, and if he’s truly sorry and serious about being with you again, he will work very hard to chase that little voice away.” You nod, understanding what he’s saying, and you appreciate his wisdom, but it does little to ease the heaviness in your chest. Your thoughts are interrupted when Sy burst into the shower.

“Y’all are having a party in here and didn’t invite me?’ he says, fake offense on his bearded face. You chuckle and roll your eyes.

“It’s a shower therapy session, Captain. Just working through some thoughts and feelings.” He raises his eyebrows, not expecting that retort. 

“Well, make room. I need to wash off.” he pushes into the small space. Walter grunts while you giggle, rinsing the last of the soap off and slipping out of the shower and grabbing a towel. You can hear the two men in the shower bickering but pay no mind as you make your way to the bedroom to steal one of Walter’s sweaters. You take note that the bedsheets have been removed and the other two men are no longer in the room. 

After drying off and getting dressed in the sweater, some panties, and knee high socks to keep your legs warm, you move to go downstairs where you knew August would be putting together after care snacks. Walter and Sy are leaving the bathroom as you head to the bathroom door, stopping to give them both a kiss before leaving the room and going downstairs. 

As you had predicted, August was in the kitchen, pajama bottoms hanging off his delectable hips, putting together sandwiches and juice. Sometimes you think he took the nickname “Daddy” too seriously. You look to your right to see Mike in the laundry room, pulling out clean bedsheets and a bigger comforter. This leaves you puzzled, Mikey never did chores. As if he can read your thoughts, he looks up and gives you a sheepish smile. 

“Just trying to help out.” he mumbles. You just nod your head, your brain still trying to compute what it was seeing. You must have looked like a SIM, just standing there staring. You snap back into reality when August clears his throat, giving you a look of confusion. 

“Yes, Daddy?’ you say. It was almost instinctual at this point to call him that at home. He just simply smirks, before grabbing your hand and moving you to sit at the kitchen island in front of a plate of food. You start to salivate at the sight of a sandwich and fruit. He puts a bottle of water beside the plate before kissing your forehead and moving to put together plates for everyone else. 

You munch quietly on your fruit, mind going back to the conversation you’re going to have to have with your four boys. Walter and Sy were easy to talk to, giving you the space to freely and safely speak about how you feel. The strength that radiates from them giving you a sense of peace, leaving you unafraid of your feelings. You didn’t have to tell August what was on your mind. He had an uncanny ability to guess how you’re feeling most times. ‘You can’t control your face, Baby Girl.’

You lift your head up from your snack when you hear Walter and Sy come thundering down the stairs. Both are dressed just as August, leaving you in a sea of man titties and hair. This is the closest to Heaven you will ever get and you can die a happy woman secure in that knowledge. Immediately Sy goes to a plate of food, grumbling a thank you to August in between bites. Walter takes a plate and sits beside you on a stool. August and Sy are standing against it on the opposite side, and you see Mikey shuffle his feet to your other side. 

“Guys, we need to talk.” you say. Walter doesn’t react, August and Sy just blink, but you feel Mikey tense up beside you. He knew it was coming still. He just didn’t think you would do it so quickly after what just happened upstairs. He hadn’t even thought about what he was going to say to the other guys. Hell, you didn’t know how to even begin. Now that you’re thinking about it, this probably should have been a one on one talk with Mikey.

“I know that things aren’t going to be the way it was before,” you start. You don’t have to clarify what you meant by before. Just that word alone is enough to drive a knife through Mikey’s heart. You didn’t look at him directly, but he knew you were talking to him. The three older men stay quiet, letting you get what you need to off your chest. August’s sharp attention to detail doesn’t fail to notice the sweat starting to bead on Mikey’s forehead. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you are about to ask.

“Why, Mikey?” your voice cracks, pushing your plate away and looking up at him with tears in your eyes. A lump formed in his throat and he didn’t know what to say for a minute. He didn’t know how to tell you it was because he felt like less of a man in your eyes compared to the other three. How could he tell you he was insecure and emotionally immature and he doesn’t want you to look at him with pity. 

“I…” he voice cracks. You raise your brows, anticipating his answer. 

“Was it something I did? Something I said?” you croak. This pisses Sy off.

“Don’t go blaming yourself, Darlin’. Mike made the decision to do what he did, no matter what you did or said to him,” he almost barks. You turn to him, seeing his face and chest starting to turn red with anger. You just nod, making eye contact with August who just gives a nod in agreement. You turn back to Mikey.

“He’s right. I could have just talked to you about what I was feeling.” 

“What were you feeling?’ Walter asks. If he could get Mikey talking about it, the sooner it unburdens you.  

“Emasculated, ignored,” he mumbles. “I just, you call me Baby Face, and it made me feel like you see me as a kid, not a man like these three,” he motions to the others. 

“That’s because you are a kid,” Sy grumbles. You turn and give him a pointed look, telling him to shut the fuck up with your eyes. 

“He’s right, Baby Cakes, I am. It took me moving out and doing some self-reflection, to realize I’m not yet a man. Hell, I can’t even grow facial hair yet!” You all chuckle, fully aware of just how virile it makes the other three look. “I just, felt like less of a man. But those weeks apart showed me how little I really know and just how much I still have to learn about being, not just a good man, but a good man for you.” You nod along, listening intently and understanding where he’s coming from.

“I wasn’t aware of just how jealous I was going to feel about sharing you. It was like everytime I wanted alone time with you, one of the others needed you more.” 

“That’s understandable, but baby you have to tell me when you’re feeling neglected like that,” you say, reaching out to grab his hand in yours. You bring it up to your mouth for a kiss, before setting it back down on the counter.

“It’s not that hard, really. Pick one night a week when she can be all yours,” that comes from August, face stoic as ever. Mikey wanted to get an attitude, but remembered that he should be taking the advice.

“Or just tell us when you want some one on one time, we’ll give you a couple hours,” Sy says. 

“And jealousy is normal, but you gotta talk to me, Mikey,” you say, bringing his attention back to you. “I’m sorry my nickname made you feel that way, I can find other nicknames to call you.”

“You can call me whatever you want, baby. I realized it doesn’t matter, as long as I’m with you.”

“But why her?” you ask. It was bad enough that he cheated, but with someone you had told him made you feel insecure. 

“I don’t know. She showed up at a party one night, and some petty part of me wanted to make you feel the same way watching you with them made me feel. It was immature and wrong.” A part of you could understand that. You were young and immature once too, and you could go from pretty to petty with one letter. 

“Do you understand what that did to her?” August says. He wants to yell, but the look on your face says he needs to be calm. Mike shakes his head. In all of his self-reflection, he considered he had hurt you but didn’t think to what extent. 

“You almost killed her self-esteem. It took me two weeks just to get her to be comfortable with being naked, just with herself. She didn’t leave bed for anything other than work for a month. Hell, Geralt wasn’t able to touch her for a week because she couldn’t stop crying, and you know how he feels about emotions.” Sy says.

“Geralt is coming around?” Mike says. 

“That’s not the point,” Walter chimes in. 

“Right. Baby, I’m sorry,” Mikey starts. You just shake your head. 

“It’s okay. I’m glad you were honest with me. Just, PLEASE, start talking to me about how you feel. Communication is the only way this is going to work,” you have to emphasize the last sentence heavily. He nods his head furiously. You open your arms for a hug, Mikey wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tightly. 

“Though, I do have one request,” he trails off. You hum, waiting to hear what he has to say.

“Can I top you at least twice a week?” 

You blink, before bursting out laughing, breaking the hug and leaning back onto Walter as your body shakes. You can feel him laughing behind you, and hear Sy chuckling. August rolls his eyes, typical Mikey. 

“Anything you want, Baby Boy. I love you, thanking you for talking to me,” you say, leaning over and giving him a deep kiss. He kisses you back just as lovingly. He pulls back, gazing at you adoringly before turning to his older cousins. 

“I’m sorry to you guys, too. I was the one who brought up this whole arrangement not knowing just what it would take to maintain it.” 

August just nods, not having fully forgiven him for what he did to you, he couldn’t care less about a slight done to himself. Walter and Sy just mumble “it’s okay.”

“But I want to thank you, too. Thank you for cleaning up my mess and taking the best care of her. I really owe you guys,” he rubs the back of his neck, unsure how they would respond to that. 

“Well, we took care of her because we love her, that’s what you do when you love someone, you take care of them,” Walter says. You smile at that, full of love for your big grump. 

“And I plan on making it up to her every day.” he looks deep into your eyes, hoping to really drive home his promise. You smile and cup his face, thumb caressing his cheek. He turns and kisses your palm, before putting his hand over yours and lacing your fingers together. The tender moment is broken by your wide yawn. Sy claps his hands.

“Alright, Little Girl, bed time!” he moves around the island to pick you up, never letting you release Mikey’s hand. Sy carries you upstairs, your arm slung over his shoulder to keep your fingers locked with Mike’s. August starts cleaning the kitchen while Walter puts together the bedsheets Mike had dropped when you started your talk. Sy keeps you in his arms as Walter makes the bed, Mike just staring at you, so thankful for your graciousness.

As soon as the bed is finished, Sy lays you gently in the middle, letting Mike take his place by your side in the bed. Just as Walter was going to climb in with you, his phone rings. You groan, knowing a phone call this late can only mean he’s got another lead on his case. He gives you a quick kiss before moving to the closet and answering his phone. As predicted, he gets dressed in jeans and his sweater, pulling his boots on before giving you one more kiss and leaving the bedroom. You hear the door shut downstairs and send up a prayer to any deity that will listen to keep him safe. 

You take the usual position, on your back so you can have one on each side and one on top of your chest. Mike is to your left and Sy decides he wants to be in between your legs tonight. August comes into the bedroom, turning off lights before climbing in to your right. Tucked in between three out of the four loves of your life, you drift into the best sleep you’ve had in weeks, surrounded by love and hair.

************************************************************************

Taglist: @just-ten-cents @shellyshellshell @wa-ni @summersong69

[bloomingdog]

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 — 𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

data: your basic florist au, bit of angst, identity reveal, all that stuff. 4k words, no use of Y/N.

You know him, you know what the looks like at the very least. Once a week—the day never stays the same—him and a group of other instrument-carrying people go into the small venue in front of your shop at nine in the evening, an hour after closing the shop, when you’re about to head home. One early morning, out of curiosity, you checked the schedules adhered and covering the roller shutter in a poor attempt to find who this mysterious guy was. You found no useful information in that regard, you did foind, however, that the club opened at ten and most concerts held there started at least half an hour later. With that new gathered intel your best guess was that they came early to get everything set or a rather quick sound-check.

The venue is on one of the corners that limit the four way pedestrian crossing, the two corners on either side both hold pubs, and diagonally there’s you. “For the Roses” is a name given by its old owner, a sweet lady—and Joni Mitchell fan—you had worked for since you were seventeen, and four years later she had decided it was time to retire. For the last five months it’s been just you, it was easier to take care of it when you were two people working, that much is true, but having to close the shop has given you staring privileges. Years ago, when you first started working here the placement of the shop seemed rather odd, between clubs, pubs and the many other forms of amusement, this, however, was a strategical position. A big part of the clientele consisted of repenting boyfriends and enamoured halves of a first date, and they kept the business afloat.

You recognise him the moment he walks in.

“Hello! How may I help you?” The clock ticks away the last minutes before closing as you try to put on your cheeriest voice.

“Hi, sorry about comin’ in so late. My mate’s playing a gig, I just want some flowers to throw on stage, whole dramatics and all.” His voice is smooth with only the slightest rasp to it. He’s a fun last client.

“Do you want the classic roses then?”

“Nah don’t bother, give me the leftovers.” There are one or two extra cuttings and a bouquet that never got picked up you wouldn’t mind getting rid of. 

You excuse yourself to pick out the best leftover flowers you could in an attempt to make a half-decent bouquet. He’s oggling your shop, he’s particularly eye-catching inside your light coloured, slightly old-fashioned establishment. He likes it there, it’s cosy, the floors are filled with different types of flower arrengements and the walls display an amalgamation of different decorations gathered throughout the years, his inspection is only interrupted by your coming back behind the counter.

“Here, I tried to make it as cohesive as I could.”

“It’s alright, love, it’s gonna get thrown anyway.” Oh, that pet name went straight to your chest.

“It felt unprofessional not to give you at least a small sample of my usual, better, quality.” He gave a side smile as a response.

“How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house, no worries, I wouldn’t make you pay for only scraps.”

“That’s quite nice, take this as a tip, then.” He slid a twenty pound note on the counter, right before turning around a saying his goodbyes with a single wave of his hands.

Spinning the sign at the glass door so it reads “Closed” you turn to sweeping the floor and leaving your workplace as neat as possible, you hum along to the song playing from your phone on the counter. The 20 dollars he gave you felt a bit too much, not that you’re going to complain, not with the cost of everything, a flower shop isn’t a luxurious job to have, so it’s much appreciated. 

Drawing the curtain-like metal you spot a group of people walking into the club, one of them must be his friend.

A mere day later, he’s back, making the dainty bells above the door chime.

“Hello! Got another show you need to throw flowers at?” You quip and he chuckles.

“Nah. Only wanted to get actual flowers to have a good reason to ask you out.” He’s confident, maybe overly so, and Hobie is well aware of that, it’s not often that his confidence fails him, though. You look surprised before laughing, it’s ridiculous.

“And what were you thinking of getting?”

“I was hoping you could recommend me something.”

“Roses are usually the go-to flower, although I much prefer freesias.”

“Sick, I’d like a single freesia, please.” He says it in an overly polite manner, the whole situation is laughable.

“That’ll be two pounds.” You say as you hand him the flower.

“Here you go.” You mutter a thank you for an answer. “My band’s playing tonight, at ten, just on the other street, you could come and we could get a drink after.”

No way you’re attending a club on a Wednesday night, with a stranger nonetheless. 

“Sure.” 

“Sweet, I’ll see you. My name’s Hobie by the way.”

And it sounds like proper fun, really.

You’ve managed to avoid the biggest wave of people going home during rush hour and, thankfully, your ride home is as pleasant as the tube allows it to be and yet, you’re restless. His invite plays around in your mind. He’s handsome, that’s for sure, and it would satiate your curiosity on the other side it would also make you tired for work the next day, you’re too old for that, you think and softly laugh at your own joke. The walk home gives you time to ponder on wasted opportunities and the best years of your life, your flat instead greets you with the promise of a reheated dinner and an eight-hour-long sleep which for a moment makes you think about ditching him. 

The commute back feels longer than it usually does. You ate in a rush and got ready far too fast after your flatmate complained about needing to use the bathroom. Your phone marks 10:05PM, fashionably late. You’re thankful the show hasn’t started by the time you sit by the bar, ordering a beer. You still haven’t decided if it’s brave or cocky to ask someone out to your own show.

The whirring of a guitar being plugged signals the beginning of the show.

“Hello, we’re The Spider-Slayers! One two three!” Is your only warning before they start playing. They’re quite good, you have to admit, Hobie, as you’ve recently learned he’s named, exudes power and confidence while on stage, he’s rather skilled. It’s enjoyable, half of the audience is too plastered—it's only ten in the evening—to pay attention to the actual music and are merely glad to have a loud noise playing for them, but they’re well-liked, no doubt an established part of the community. It passes faster than you had anticipated, not even an hour later he’s walking your way while another band prepares to play.

He’s sweaty as he sits down and orders a rum and coke, he looks at you questioning if you also want one. “Make it two.” He indicates the bartender. “Did you like it?” 

He’s tall but not intimidating in the slightest, the metal in his face a contrast to all of his warm side smiles. 

“Yes!” You’re quick to answer. “It was really nice, you guys are good.” He fully smiles at the compliment, he’s got a pretty smile.

“Thanks. I forgot to ask your name earlier, sorry about that.”

“No worries, it’s Y/N.”

“Pretty.” It’s flirty. 

“Did your mate like the flowers?” You ask as the man behind the bar hands you your drinks.

“Totally, made a mess on stage and everything. She was grateful, seriously, funny and praising in equal parts, the bouquet was beautiful too, such a shame it ended like that.” You laugh at that. “How’s it working at a flower shop?”

“Good, actually, better than one good expect, I’d say it’s one of the better retail jobs out there.”

“Seems hard.”

“It is at the beginning, you should’ve seen some of my first arrangements, they were bloody awful, I’m still wondering how we didn’t get any complaints.” It’s Hobie’s turn to laugh.

“You’ve made some improvement then, your shop’s beautiful.” You beam and thank him, you’re proud of the way it’s looking these days. “How’d you end up working there? Do you need a degree to be a florist?”

“Not really, no. I’ve taken a couple courses but for the most part I was trained by my old boss.”

“Hm.” He nods. “Strange place to set up a flower shop, innit? I see you closing all the time and wonder who in their right mind would think of opening it at a nightlife epicenter.” Good to know you’re not the only observer.

“You’d think so! We get a lot of our clientele thanks to that, not all flower shops open until eight either way. Flowers make both great apologies and gifts, you can only imagine the kind of people who walk in there.”

“What, like me?” 

“No way, I’d put you in the normal bunch.” He quirks an eyebrow, an invitation to tell him more about yourself. And that you do. You talk for the two hours that the club remains open, he’s fun, you’re both chatty, you’ve got a multitude of things in common, he tells you about his bandmates, you exchange numbers, he’s a cat person by the way. 

“You want me to walk you home?” The underground closed an hour ago, it wasn’t that big of a trek to your place, you could say yes if not for the stranger—acquaintance—danger middle school talks flashing in your memory. The bus, though taking longer than the tube, was still an option.

“It’s fine, really. I’d rather take the bus.” 

“Got it, I can wait with you if you’d like.” Yeah, yeah, you’d like that. The two of you walk close to each other to the nearest stop. The pavement is damp, it gives you another reason to be glad that you wore your trusty old, slightly dirty, converse instead of a more sophisticated option.

“Thank you for inviting me, I had a nice time, you’re fun.”

“So are you, love.” How could an overused term like that have such a big effect on you when he says it remains a mystery.

You sit in a comfortable silence until the right bus gets there and as you bid your goodbyes you’re unable to contain the big smile you give him, blame it on the drinks. You send him a quick text noticing him that you got home safe and sound before falling into deep sleep.

Your phone rings and vibrates from the bedside table, it always goes off at the same time and yet today it manages to scare you awake. The trip to the bathroom and coffee making is accompanied by a string of curses: music, bad choices, the opening hours of your business and pretty boys all fall victim to your vulgarities. The lack of proper sleep makes your day go by twice as slowly, nodding off and almost missing your stop and doomscrolling during work hours to pass the time, even turning to reading an article from The Daily Bugle, it’s laughable, it’s says something something Spider-Man, something juvenile delinquent something menace for the city.

The chime of little bells half an hour before closing wakes you up better than your alarm had done earlier in the day. Looking up from your phone you spot the same bright eyes and confident stroll that kept you company last night.

“You need to stop coming in right before closing.” You scold him. You’re confident he’s aware that it’s an invitation for him to keep showing up.

“My bad. Do you like food?”

“I-What?” Indeed, what? “I like food, yes.”

“Peng. You want to grab dinner?” And he also needs to stop proposing last-minute plans.

“Where?”

“What do you fancy?”

“Thai?”

“Sure.” 

“I close in half an hour, you can stay here if you want.” Not that you’re expecting any more costumers.

He asks if he can help with anything and you hand him the broom and dustpan that hangs in the back of the shop, he laughs and takes it as payment for having you get out earlier. The floors aren’t dirty per se, it’s mostly leaves and bits of cutting that have fallen. He sweeps while you get everything ready for tomorrow and put away what’s been used today. Half an hour later you hang your work apron and close the shutters. 

There’s a nice restaurant a couple blocks away you’ve got food to-go from before. You order a spicy noodle soup, khanom jeen nam ngiaw, and he settles for stir-fry noodles. It’s good, warm and comforting, you take a bite from his plate and he follows suit with a spoonful of your broth. The conversation picked up while cleaning and it has yet to die down, he tells you about his hobbies—you can't help to make fun of him by saying Hobie's hobbies—and you share your love for museums with him, ‘We should visit one.’ he says to which you agree in excitement. 

You don’t let go of his hand until your bedroom door is closed and you softly push him into bed. Taking only a short break to take off both of your shoes you don’t waist time in straddling him, his hands on your hips as you return to kissing. Soft moans mark the tempo for your exploring hands and you stare at his bare abdomen with much less shame than you think you should have. His hands are slightly calloused and scarred, it doesn’t matter with how skilled they are. It feels like you’re drowning in him, you hope he feels half as good as he’s making you feel, if his breathless mutters of ‘fuck’ and ‘good girl’ are any indicator you can pat yourself on the back after it’s over.

The dinner is paid for, the night chilly compared to the warmth inside the restaurant. He offers to walk you home again, this time you agree because you’re no longer strangers, right? You make it half of the way before puts his hand on your lower back, you don’t make an effort to move it, it’s comfortable.

You make it three quarters of the way until you start kissing, your back against the wall of a mildly busy street, you feel like a horny teenager. You climb up the stairs to your flat two-steps at a time, your hand holding his and praying that your flatmate has confined herself to her room so you don’t have to introduce one to the other, not right now at least.

The morning after your alarm not only scares you awake but it also makes him sit up in bed with a jolt.

“Sorry.” Sleep is still evident in your voice.

“S’okay.” He replies before giving you a chaste kiss on the lips, you don’t think either of you wants to deal with each other’s morning breath, it’s a tad early for that.

You offer him breakfast. Your flatmate has left for work but she won’t forgive you if you don’t tell her of last night’s events. At least it won’t make this morning awkward, or more awkward than it already is, it happens with first breakfasts: sleepy, a mess, cranky from waking up, it’s not anyone’s best look. 

You take the underground while he chooses to walk home, it’s not crazy far away from yours, apparently. In the meantime, the work day is spent looking up frantically every time the bells over your door chime, hoping that it will be him at some point. He does come over, at ten past eight, and he has to knock on the door to catch your attention. Your strange arrangement goes on for the better part of the next two months, he comes over when you’re about to close, you eat together multiple times per week, he’s quite a skilled at making exactly seven different dishes, he invites you to his shows and you’ve met his bandmates, you’ve had every cliché date imaginable: the park, the cinema, the natural history museum, markets, the full deal. You don’t call them dates though, you’re not a couple even with all the kissing and sleeping together—literally and figuratively—he’s told you he doesn’t like labels, but he’s being exclusive with you so you’re okay with it. 

He shows up with little cuts and bruises, you attributed to being clumsy at first but it’s become more common lately, he excuses it as a protest that went south, a moshpit or just a friendly scuffle with his mates. It doesn’t ease your nerves. But you're soon to forget all about it once you’re outside, walking hand in hand and sharing headphones, he’s incorporated bits and pieces of your music to his playlist and he makes sure to show you the songs he thinks you’ll like first than anything.

Your phone lights up with a text notification from Hobie, he’s coming over soon. It shouldn’t be, but it reads as ominous, he doesn’t usually tell you in advance and would rather showing up unannounced.

“Hey pet.” He greets, it’s his latest nickname for you, you’ve always thought it ridiculous but he’s making you grow fond of it.

“Hi Bee” An animal-related nickname you gave him after he tried calling you ‘duck’ that has stuck. “You want to do something or should we head home?”

“Home’s fine, I’m tired.” It’s fair, he’s always running around doing things, you’re okay with a night in. 

He sweeps the floor, it’s his assigned task, you feel bad but he says he doesn’t mind and likes helping you. The ride back to your place is quieter than usual, he seems pensive. You’re about to open the door to your building when you notice him stuck a meter away.

“Are you okay?” Your heart is picking up speed.

“Listen, love.” Oh no. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to come up.” You’re on the second and final step of the stairway while he’s at ground level, he looks smaller than he’s ever been. “I’ve had a lot of fun, really, but I don’t think I can go on with our thing, you know? I’m not good at commitment anyway.” Your lack of a response get’s him speaking again. “I’m truly sorry, I just don’t wanna go on with this and end up hurtin’ you.”

“Okay.” Is the only thing your brain is able to formulate.

“Okay.” He replies. “I’ll be leaving now.” He says as he kisses your temple, turning around and giving you a single wave of the hand for a goodbye.

You feel the tears beginning to fill up your eyes, your vision blurry, at least you were able to hold them until he left, it’s already embarrassing as it is. You don’t bother re-heating dinner that night, choosing to go straight to bed and waking up with puffy eyes in the morning. For the first time in a while you’re sure you won’t have any visits at work, it’s terrible. You feel stupid. He told you enough about himself to know that the two of you weren’t in for a long-term relationship and still you held onto some sort of hope of being an exception. 

That was two weeks ago. You’ve seen him two times since, while leaving for home. He waves your way and you wave back, out of politeness more than anything. Two weeks of radio silence that break your established routine and fill you with a sense of expectation during the last hours of work. 

It’s nine-twenty on a Sunday, it’s usual for you to stay until late at the end of your work week, Hobie knew that and would make sure to keep you company and take you home those days. The early November weather has made it so it’s already been dark for hours, the city is rather calm, you don’t suppose there’s much to do on a cold November night. A series of knocks on the door alerts you of the presence of someone outside, it startles you as you hold the broom you were using against your chest.

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight outside the door. Spider-Man was doubling down and leaning against the glass of your shopfront, electric guitar strapped across him and hanging in his back, clad in his usual metal decorations while his suit had been torn. You let him in a hurry, it’s not ideal to have an idol of the working class dead on your welcome mat. He limps to the back of the shop, in your current state of panic you don’t stop to wonder how he knows the way so well, until he’s sitting on the floor and leaning against one of the walls, guitar forgotten besides him. You follow him and crouch at his side just in time for him to take off his mask. 

“Fuck off.”

“Hi pet.”

You were so excited to be done with work and head home to watch a film, lucky for you, your ex-situationship still has a habit of coming in right before you leave. 

“Bloody hell Hobie.” 

“Please don’t be shocked right now, we can talk about it tomorrow.” He can’t be serious. “I’m knackered.” I wonder why, you think. He looks like proper shit.

“Hobie you’re bleeding.” You’re trying your best to be helpful and not panic.

“It’s fine love, it’ll heal in no time, I kinda have superpowers.” You’re choosing to ignore that and get up to retrieve your first aid kit, it’s far too basic to be useful right now, only equipped to help with cuts and minor injuries.

You can feel his eyes on you and your whole body is shaking as you kneel by his side. You try your best to keep your hands steady while pouring rubbing alcohol into a cotton pad.

“You don’t have to, I’ll be fine.”

“Let me clean it, please, so it doesn’t get infected.” He lets you, wincing at the alcohol making contact with his open injuries. He knows you're doing it more for yourself than him. “Sorry.” He shakes his head as a way of saying ‘no worries’.

You reach for his face with your bare hand once you’ve considered him clean enough, you cradle his cheek and can’t hold your tears from spilling.

“This is why I cut thing off with you, you know? Don’t wan’ you getting hurt.”

“I don’t care.”

“Don’t say that.” He pleads. 

“What about you getting hurt? Does that not matter?” He laughs and winces right after.

“You’re a sweet thing. I don’t have a choice but you do.”

“And what if my choice is to stand by your side?”

“You can’t.”

“Yes I do!” You’re reaching tour breaking point and can’t help but raise your voice. “I didn’t know I loved you as much as I do until these last weeks without you. It’s been torture.”

“It’s been torture for me too.” His words soften you, and it’s only then you realize what you said, you don’t dare acknowledge them, maybe he didn’t notice or the head trauma will make him forget it.

You’re crying now and it feels awful because you should be the one comforting him, he’s hurt not you. He holds you as you shake and places a kiss to your head.

“Can we sleep here?” He asks once you’ve calmed down. The tile floor is anything but comfortable and still you nod yes.

You fix a make-shift bed consisting of your bunched up jumper and apron for pillows and your big coat, that barely covers his upper body, for a blanket. Not that it matters, you chose to turn the radiator up and it’s hard to get cold while curled up to a human heater. You’re careful while laying with him, both out of fear of hurting him and prudence of this hurting you even more. He doesn’t care and brings you closer, your head on his chest and his hand drawing shapes on your back over your clothes, you can’t help but worry about the state of his back in the morning. 

You find sleep easier than you have since your “break-up”, his rhythmic breathing lulls you and his caresses calm you down. You’re in the before-falling-asleep-limbo when you hear his voice, he says “I love you too” like a confession secret, you’re not sure if you were even supposed to hear it. It’s too late for you to react, his words mix with the beginning of your dreams into a spiralling nonsense.

🕷 i really enjoyed writing this! i was thinking of maybe doing a part 2? tell me your thoughts if you dont mind too! i haven't written anything that isnt academic in years and i feel rusty

[burninlovebutler]

Just an Intern // Part 2

pairing: austin x fem!reader - word count: 8k-ish

warnings: SMUTSMUT, moody arrogant asshole!austin, ANGST, hand job, fingering, use of a faucet, multiple o's, overstimulation, mild SA (groping), name calling, masturbation, arguments, physical altercation (not with y/n), alcohol, getting caught, blowjob, 69, p in v (unprotected), inaccurate descriptions of a movie set, 18+ ONLY. MDNI

PART 1 | PART 3 | see my masterlist for all other fics ♡

summary: When your one-off fling returns to the set of Bikeriders after a hiatus, you're overwhelmed with need to make him notice you again. Due to an unforeseen snow storm, you and your crew are snowed in at the nearest ski resort with… limited vacancies.

Special thanks to: @cryingabtab & @lindszeppelin for helping revise this ♡

I miss the way you say my name The way you bend, the way you break Your makeup running down your face The way you fuck, the way you taste When the curtains call the time Will we both go home alive?

After the… incident, you held your pride and decided (stupidly) to not tell Austin how much money his little act had cost you in shattered makeup. However, this only resulted in him sneak in a whopping $500 into your makeup kit. But of course, you were a glutton for defiance so, when he was on set, you’d slip the bills back into his wallet. That game went back and forth for a couple rounds, but you never spoke about it, all silent. Finally, you gave in one day when you found the money in your own wallet after your busted VW Bug had given you trouble that morning.

It went like that between you two pretty much the entire time he was still on set – quiet, weird, and awkward. You fully expected him to go back to the same asshole behavior, but he didn’t, practically pretending you didn’t exist. The ‘Intern’ nickname never retiring though it was seldom used. You were invisible to him, which at first at least, was comforting.

On a crisp fall Wednesday morning you were pleasantly surprised to find the man you had this strange dynamic with, left to shoot another movie, leaving you back with the cast you were familiar with.

That night which just so happened to be the Saturday of Halloween weekend, you were invited to some big Hollywood rooftop party. You went as Harley Quinn since it was last minute and it was the only Halloween costume you had since 2017. Not surprisingly you found a Joker that was fairly attractive and ended up hooking up in the bathroom. As the spray painted green-haired influencer slid in and out of you, you couldn’t help but think about Austin. The way he fucked you against the door, the way he talked to you, the way he looked at you, even his moans filled your head.

As much as you wanted to ignore it, the thought of him was the cause of many sleepless nights. Many nights you couldn’t sleep until you’d fucked yourself dizzy with the thought of him. After Halloween, you’d spent the next month trying to fuck anything even remotely attractive trying to replicate the feeling Austin haunted you with. Yet you fell short in your fruitless efforts. Every Tinder date was just another pump and dump or two second loser or worst of all - those cringey wannabe ‘daddy doms’.

It drove you INSANE, how could this asshole had wormed his way into your brain. The same one who called you all sorts of names, threatened your job and humiliated you in front of the whole cast.

In the time he was gone you’d been promoted head makeup artist since Carol had for some ominous reason been fired. It gave you a sort of pride knowing that upon Austin’s inevitable return, you wouldn’t be just an ‘intern’ anymore.

-

On a particularly cold morning you sleepily opened your trailer door to find a familiar face sitting in your seat – Austin. Your stomach flipped and you hated it, goddamnit you hated it. Why did your body throw butterflies like grenades into your tummy at the sight of him?

“Long time no see Intern.” He stated without even looking up from his phone.

“Morning Actor.” Your tone came out more displeased than intended, his attitude and the nickname reminded you of exactly why you despised him in the first place. You opened your kit and started picking out products, to coordinate for his character.

“You know the scene this time?” He asked finally bringing his attention to you.

His question confused you, ‘this time?’ what the fuck did that mean – until you remembered that was the first thing he asked you that first day in the trailer. Your standards showed just how low they were when you found yourself finding it endearing that he remembered such a small detail.

“I do.” You replied beginning to place product on his face, “Do you know what scene this time?” Flipping the memory back on him. He just grumbled a yes.

The feeling of seeing him again felt familiar to the feeling of when you miss your family and then once you’re around them for about 10 minutes you’re reminded of just why you left home in the first place. Except it only took 10 seconds with Austin. Your stupid masochistic brain kept urging you to ask questions-

‘where’ve you been?’

‘what’ve you been filming?’

‘are you excited about this next scene?’

‘are you happy to be back?’

And the worst of all, ‘did you miss me?’

But why would you even care to ask that? You knew the answer and you didn’t miss him.

Right?

Why would you miss this asshole?

Lost in your thoughts, there was no conversation, no interaction. Just stale awkward silence that made your heart pound in your head and your hands tremble.

-

The weather was a stark contrast to the last time he’d been on set at the last location. It was November but there hadn’t yet been snowfall. Your services were called for 45 minutes in and you went to Tom Hardy first – not only did you want to avoid Austin but you and Tom had grown a much closer friendship.

“Hey Pup! You’re just who I needed to see this morning.” He smiled warmly. Immediately you felt a glare fall on you both.

You chuckled and began touching up his makeup, “Oh yeah and why’s that?”

“Well, you always cheer up my mornings! But I also wanted to ask you a question?” He tried his best to stay still while you worked on him. You nodded indicated for him to continue. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”

You almost choked on your own spit, that was the last thing you thought to come out of his mouth. Though you knew it wasn’t about him since he was married, and he treated you like a father. You felt the stare from before boring into you more. You cleared your throat, “Um, no. I’m not currently seeing anyone. Why?”

“Oh well I just wanted to make sure because I saw you with that guy from the Halloween party-“

You cut him off immediately, “Yes and? Why?” The stare from Austin intensified even more, you swore it could burn right through you.

“Oh well,” He laughed, “One of the crew guys wanted me to ask you. I’m not allowed to say who though.” He added emphasis on ‘say’ followed by his eyes moving over to one of the black haired tattooed stagehands.

 Landon

The hot, toned sound tech had been making advances at you since Austin left. He had taken over Austin’s role as your tormentor, though he wasn’t as bad or fun. You wanted to roll your eyes and dismiss the comment, but what fun would that be? Tom had just given you some bullets for your gun.

You turned slightly to see him across set and give him a little wave when he notices you. “Hm… that’s interesting.” You hummed then gave a shrug, “He is pretty cute.”

Landon was quite different than Austin – dark hair, muscular, tattoos, angular face, even taller than him. It was no secret that Landon had a thing for you, he made it quite obvious with various offhand comments and failed date requests. While his attempts sometimes overstepped, they were mostly innocent, but there was something about him that made you feel uneasy – or maybe it was because you constantly compared him to Austin.

You didn’t want to move on to the infuriating actor, especially since the comment about Landon but you needed to. You began adding some powder to his face.

“Halloween party huh?” He questioned without missing a beat.

“I went to a Halloween party, yes.” You replied in a harsher tone, “Not that that’s any of your business.” When you stepped backwards to check your work you notice that his lips are chapped; probably from the cold. You took out a brand new chapstick and gently tapping it on his plump lips. The full pinkness of them reminded you of how they felt on your neck last time and the stir in your core confirmed it.

-

This set wasn’t much different from the last, a Western looking town that was supposed to be a different area in the movie. Wooden buildings lined a strip littered with faux shops and stores, some used for different inside scenes. And of course, motorcycles all over.

After the interaction over Landon that morning, things had been unusually calm from Austin. So unusual in fact that he was barely acknowledging you. But that’s what you wanted wasn’t it? To not bother you? But it felt more like a frustrating punishment than anything. You wanted to get his attention but wasn’t sure how, it was freezing cold and you couldn’t use your short dresses anymore.

There was something you could use – Landon.

Austin’s demeanor had changed after the mention of him and had shot lasers into you when you spoke about him – so perhaps provoking the lion may be exactly what you needed to regain his attention.

Predictably, Landon lingered near you when you worked near set trying to map out certain looks and glanced over at Austin to see if you were in his eyeline. Once you guaranteed his focus, his eyes briefly meeting yours, you called over Landon.

“Hey,” You smiled flirtatiously, “You think I could get your opinion on this?”

His ego visibly boosted, “Yeah sure. Oh yeah-“ He lifted a box full of candy canes, “You want one? We accidently ordered a million for Christmas.”

The corners of your mouth immediately curled up, candy canes.

Your banana stunt had shaken Austin so much last time – this would be so much better. You could properly show him how much you had thought about his cock in your mouth.

“Oh absolutely.” You smirked, plucking a cane-shaped candy. Once again you felt eyes tracking you, it was almost like you could hear him saying ‘don’t you fucking dare’.

You peeled the plastic off the bottom end, wrapped your lips around the middle and dragged your lips down the sugary treat.

You over animated your flirtatious gestures with Landon, pausing with the candy in your mouth and cheeks hollowed. You took it up a notch by getting touchy with him, landing a hand on his arms and giving the obligatory fake playful laugh. Landon was eating it up, you almost felt bad that you were leading him on.

Only half way through your snack you were called for a touch up. When you finally got to Austin, lithe legs propped at each side of his bike. The reminder of you straddling his bike last time stirred the exact feeling as when you left your wetness on his seat last time. His makeup is visibly messed up, like he purposely smeared his fingers through his foundation. “What the fuck did you do?” You asked, genuinely curious.

“I didn’t do anything.” He replied blandly, his tone filtered behind some wall, “Can you just fix it?”

Your eyes rolled involuntarily, “Yeah.”

Midway through your application you noticed his jaw clench before speaking again, “I know what you’re doing.” Grumbling, his eyes struggling to not focus on your mouth holding the cane while you worked.

You slid it past your freshly glossed lips, “’I didn’t do anything.’” You mimicked him from just earlier.

His gaze darkened now not even hiding it’s focus on your mouth, “You have to stop that.” He looked you dead in the eyes that time.

You got exactly what you wanted. His attention. Power.

He eyed you like prey, indigo eyes locked back on your lips that housed the candy. You could tell he wanted to play, he wanted to invest in your little game but the playfulness in his blues was vacant. “Cut it out.” He repeated lowly and through gritted teeth so no one would hear.

You smirked like a brat as you leaned down to his eye-line, “Or what?” Your cheeks hallowed as you slowly sunk the cane back into your mouth, how far could you really tease him? You wanted to see what he’d do about it.

In a swift motion he snatched the candy cane from your lips bringing it between his molars and roughly snapping it in half with a crunch. “Don’t you fucking listen? I told you to cut it out.” Nearly growling and shoved the now broken candy into your hand. Your cheeks blushed at the feeling of the surrounding crew catching the incident and you caught him looking embarrassed, as if he had just made a scene at dinner.

Directors called to shoot again, and you noticed his readjustment when you left.

Your little stunt worked, all throughout the scenes he watched you like a hawk. You made sure to take your time withering down the rest of the sugary stick, making sure he knew just how slow. After a while it became a game, the more you distracted him the more times they yelled cut. The more times you got to see him hide his physical reaction to you. You could see the annoyance building in him. Deep down you were almost scared at how he’d react once you had to interact again. But you definitely wanted to find out.

And when they called for a 30 the fear settled in the pit of your stomach when he stomped over you at your section. Before you had a chance to even respond, he discreetly gripped your wrist, hiding it from the dissipating crew from set. Leaning closer into you he muttered, “When everyone files out, you’re coming with me.”

You pointlessly tried to wriggle from his tight grip, “I don’t wanna go anywhere with you.”

His hold only tightened around you, “You’re a fucking shitty liar.” Once he confirmed everyone had left, he hauled you into one of the functioning sets, a dark wooden saloon. He locked the door behind you both and closed the blinds behind each window.

As he was walking towards you with eyes as dark as a demon, you questioned why you antagonized the hungry tiger in the first place. You walked backwards from him, stumbling over some chairs.

“This is a little uncalled for don’t ya think? I was just eating some candy…” You began to ration, the terror filling your tummy. Though you were scared you were also full to the brim with excitement, like a cat and mouse game. He stalked you to behind the bar, the area was littered with prop alcohol bottles and glasses. He backed you in front of the sink, his hands firm on your hips, “You know exactly what you were doing Intern.” He lowered just below your ear and lead your hand to his hard cock staining his jeans, “Is that what you wanted?”

“I-“ Immediately melting under his lips that met your neck and you decided to be honest, “Yeah – it’s exactly what I wanted.”

He pressed into you when you began palming him over his jeans, “I’m not even here 24 hours and you’re already asking for my cock? You must’ve really missed me.” Arrogance returning to his demeanor.

You weren’t really sure how to answer that question, it wasn’t so much that you missed him – you missed the buzz that laid claim to your entire body when he touched you.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.” In one fail swoop he lifted you onto the sink, your body balanced on the divide of the cold metal basin. Just as quick, he had somehow managed to unzip and pull the pants right off your body. While he was trying to keep any composure, you could tell he was insatiable, his hands all over you, his lips all over your neck, he couldn’t get enough of you.

“I didn’t fucking miss you.” Attempting to speak over the heaving of your chest, “Feels a lot like you missed me though.”

“Why would I ignore such an annoying pest as you?” His words didn’t match his intensified actions. His hand trailed up your thighs, spreading your legs apart. A middle finger slowly and meticulously traced up your wet slit, “Now your cunt? That’s something I might’ve missed.” And easily slipped two fingers into your soaked core and his thumb following suit, landing on your pulsing clit.

After a sharp gasp you managed to rebuttal, “Good- glad we’re on the same page.”

“Good.” He groaned when your hand unzipped his dark jeans and wrapped your hand around his bare member still in his boxers.

“Fuck,” You breathed out and lulled your head back when his thumb circled your clit, “Fuck that feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He lifted his assault on your neck for just a second, “Your hand feels so fucking good around me.”

“Fuck Austin,” You moaned but soon realized your misstep and you hoped he missed it but the curl of his lips on your neck proved otherwise.

“So you do know my name.”

“Can you just shut the fuck up and fuck me?” The words shot out of your mouth out of sheer desperation and annoyance.

“Oh, nu uh darlin’, you think you’re gonna get away with what you did?” His hand slipped from you, causing a whine from the loss of pleasure.

He analyzed around the sink like he was searching for something then found exactly his target. He pulled down the retractable faucet head.

No- he wouldn’t, would he?

His hands pushed up your flowy long sleeve shirt to your waist to reduce the evidence then reached behind you to the faucet handle. In a flash the jet stream of first cold then slightly warm water hit your throbbing bundle. You immediately let out moan you didn’t intend to be as loud.

“What’s wrong baby? Is it a bit too strong?”

Baby

You were too focused on not climaxing so early to even process how much worse that nickname was than your own slip up. Even worse, the name only turned you on more. You helplessly nodded, completely void of words.

Your own descent didn’t halt your work on his throbbing cock, from the sticky precum seeping from his tip you could tell he was close too. Somewhere in your bliss filled brain, the game still waged on and you got an idea you needed to see through.

“Aw darlin’” He growled though you hear him struggling too, his cock twitching in your hand, “You gonna cum already?”

You contemplated denying it but your defenses were completely down full of need, “Yes- Please, please let me cum.”

“I don’t think so, you’re gonna have to do better than that.” Letting out small groans as your hand sped up on his girth. He retaliated by using his free hand to push the nozzle to the highest pressure.

A loud sob fell from your lips and every cell in your body screamed for release, your legs were trembling, your hand gripped on his forearm and your body vibrating from how viciously your orgasm threatened to take over. “Please sir, please let me cum, I need to cum please please.” You desperately begged.

He let out a deep grunt into your shoulder, “Fuck- good girl, cum for me.”

Full blinding euphoria washed over you, loud moans ripped from your throat unable to control the volume. It was clear he didn’t expect your reaction from the groans that filled your own ears. His teeth dug into the small of your neck and his free hand digging nto your thigh harshly when you felt his own orgasm covering your hand in thick ribbons of cum and coating the inside of his boxers. His hand never left the faucet head on you through his climax. Your orgasm continued to roll through you, the feeling of his cum on your hand only heightened your pleasure.

Once he started to come down you knew your plot to make him finish in his pants had consequences. He ripped your hand from his girth. “Look what you’ve done.” His tone so fucking angry.

“I’m-I’m sor-“ He brought your cum covered hand to your face, smeared it across your entire makeup covered face. His seed coated your cheeks, mouth and nose.

“That’s what teasing fucking whores get.” He taunted below your ear, “I’ll give you exactly what you wanted.” He returned the jet stream back onto your sensitive clit. You whined and tried to scoot away but his strong hand kept your hips in place, “You’re gonna take this like the little slut you are.”

The water was overriding every nerve ending the stimulation was almost painful. “Fuck, fuck, I can’t do this.” You wiggled beneath his hold. “It’s too much Austin, please.” Tears starting to well in your eyes.

“I know baby, I know.” He swirled the water around your sensitivity, “Just trust me, it’ll feel good. I promise.” He whispered and something about how his voice had softened made you believe him. It must’ve been quite obvious that you’d never been overstimulated like that before.

“Okay- Fuck.” You struggled beneath him, wondering when exactly it would start to feel good. Then suddenly breaking through the discomfort was a pleasure so strong, one you’d never felt before. This orgasm made the first one seem tame. Not a sound came from you as the ecstasy tore though you.

After it past the faucet was still on you but you were past any hope of another orgasm and it was even more painful than before. Your reflex pushed the steam from your center and back into the sink. Your heavy breathing in sync with each other, neither one daring to move or speak.

You expected him to warn you that you’d pay for making him finish in his pants, he just zipped back up. The air in the room had changed and was nothing like last time. He went to walk away from you but came back and pressed a finger into your sternum, his brows low and anger swirling in his face. “This isn’t fucking happening again. Got it?”

-

His words rang in your head the rest of the day. Every touch up after was silent, uncomfortable – so much so even Tom noticed the odd energy, making sure to move away from Austin whenever you had to work on him. He tried to ask you about it but you shut him down any inquiry.

Just before the sun fully disappeared behind mountains, flurries of snow began coating the set and everything in its wake. It fell and piled up in record speed.

The entire cast and crew were huddled into each trailer when a director came to the door with a sullen and irritated face. “They closed the roads.”

A roar of chatter filled the room with the realization that you all were stuck there. How nobody on crew thought to look at the fucking weather forecast you had no fucking clue.

“I know, I know.” He sighed, “Good news is the ski resort up the mountain agreed to take us, and we got a green light to pass if we leave now.”

Your coworkers began to filter out leaving you with the settling realization that your tiny beater Volkswagen wouldn’t make it up the mountain none the less in deep snow.

“Fuck.” You breathed out running after your director and grabbed his arm, “Can I carpool with you guys? My car’s not gonna make it up there.”

“I think my car’s already full but…” His eyes scanned across the emptying set, landing on an option. “Austin could probably take you.” He pointed at him only a couple feet away from you.

Of fucking course.

The displeasure clearly washed over his face from being elected for something he didn’t offer to do.

“Sure.” His tone poorly hidden behind a gripe. “C’mon we don’t have all day.”

The trek to his car was just as uncomfortable as you expected, you wanted to apologize for bothering him but he didn’t deserve it. Once in the car his demeanor was unnecessarily aggressive – his hands gripping the steering wheel, his jaw clenched, every action sharp. You would’ve thought you had done something horrendous to him. But all you did was exist.

“Well I-“ You began before he cut you off.

“I don’t want to fucking talk.” Halting any interaction.

“Fine.” You muttered, slumping down into the passenger seat trying to stay warm. His car was freezing, you had no idea how he wasn’t dying from the cold. He glanced over to you when your teeth started chattering and finally turned on the heat. When your chattering didn’t subside you felt his gaze land on you once more, yet you kept your eyes off him. Then out of the corner of your eye, you caught him ever so discreetly twist the knob for the seat heaters.

“Thank you.” You begrudgingly commented but he tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he navigated through the snow and into the resort parking lot. It felt like he hadn’t even parked before jumping out of the car and slamming the door.

The twist in your stomach from his actions feigned sadness, but you were just offended right?

You caught up to him just in time to hear the words that made Austin immediately even angrier than before.

“I’m sorry, but unfortunately it looks like we only have one room left.” The clerk said sounding intimidated by his expression.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath assessing your options. But the roads were blocked and there was nowhere else to go, you were stuck.

“Please tell me there’s at least two beds.” You sighed, terrified of the answer.

She gave a hesitant face, “I’m so sorry but it is not. It is one of our studio rooms.”

Great, so it was tiny too.

“Wonderful.” He snatched his room key and headed quickly to the elevator.

“Thank you.” You said apologetically and gently took your key, jogging to catch him.

The resort resembled a log cabin, red buffalo print accents everywhere, a stone fireplace, and moose heads mounted to the walls.

“Listen I’m not fucking happy about this either.” You state firmly, “But you don’t have to be a dickhead about it.”

He ignored you when he pressed the elevator button and continued the entire way up and even to your room door. He dropped his go bag on a leather ottoman, grabbing some clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. Probably to finally wash off the accident you caused earlier.

You dropped your own go bag on the bed and fell on it, absolutely exhausted and confused. What the fuck had your life become? Having quickie with an actor one set and now stuck in a room with him? An actor that hates you?

You must’ve fallen asleep because the bustle of Austin freshly showered and in dark slacks and a button down.

“Where are you going?” You asked rubbing the nap from your eye.

“Bar.” He replied plainly and left the room.

Fuck.

You weren’t just gonna sit there like a lame ass waiting for him to get back. Then you remembered your secret weapon – Landon.

After whatever the fuck Austin put you through, anything Landon did wouldn’t be as bad.

Once freshened up and wearing a convenient slinky dress you had snatched from your go bag, you found the resort bar and spotted your resident tormentor talking to some tiny blonde extra. The odd twist in your stomach from earlier returned but you played it off as disgust.

“A lemon drop martini please.” You ordered just beside Landon who looked much better outside of work. A maroon button-down shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing off his traditional style tattoos.

“Well, hello there,” He grinned, popping deep dimples into his cheeks. “I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

While the mission drove you to him, maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe he could take your mind off of Austin.

“Well, I’m here.” You smiled up at him as you took a sip of your drink.

Soon it became evident that he was several drinks in, his words slurring, his imbalanced stance. It became incredibly obvious when his arm wrapped around your waist and landing on your hip. His unwarranted touch crept a alarming discomfort in your body, instantly tensing up under his hand.

Nervously giggling you slowly pulled from his grasp, “You’re so funny.”

His hold on you only constricted and his hand lowered to your ass.

“I would really appreciate it if you didn’t-“ Making another attempt at escaping.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” He mumbled into your ear, “I’ve heard the rumors about you.”

It was when his lips met your neck that the fear fully kicked in fueling your strength to yank from him, “Please don’t fucking touch me.”

All eyes in the bar were on you two, including the asshole that was the cause of whatever rumors Landon mentioned. The darkhaired drunk was clearly pissed at your reaction and stole you back into his abrasive hands.

“Don’t act all innocent now, I know how big of a slut you are.” He muttered but stumbled back when a massive hand landed on his chest.

“Leave her the fuck alone.” A familiar voice warned. Your eyes trailed up his stern arm and up to his twisted face, vicious eyes burning into Landon.

“Oh, what’s wrong? Don’t like to share your whore?” The stagehand retorted.

Austin’s fist twisted into Landon’s shirt shoving him back, “Don’t fucking say shit like that.” He growled through clenched teeth. The sight of his protectiveness sent butterflies down to your stomach.

“C’mon man, you know she’s nobody, she’s just a fucking intern, she’s nothing.”

In a flash before you could even process, a heavy fist landed into his drunken smirk.

Landon’s hand instantly covered his now bleeding nose, “Dude what the fuck!”

“Don’t fucking do that again.” He snarled, “And don’t fucking call her that.” Pushing him back before storming away. Something about him defending you only swirled warmth in your hips. He just punched someone for you.

“Fuck you.” You spat, taking the rest of his beer along with your drink and poured them all over him.

And again, you were chasing after a fuming Austin. “Hey!” You called after him grasping his forearm. “What the fuck was that about? Why would you do that?”

“Oh I don’t fucking know, (Y/N) maybe because he was assaulting you?” Slapping your arm off him then continuing his pursuit back up your room.

“Right, but you fucking hate me.” You stated the obvious as he walked away from you again and into the elevator. “Can you fucking stop being a child and talk to me?” You pressed once the elevator doors closed behind you.

“I save you and you call me a child?” He scoffed, “You should be thanking me.”

The moment those lift doors opened his stomps quickly crossed down the long wooden hallway.

“I mean- yeah but like…” Your chest heavy from all the fast walking. Slipping through the crack of the door before he could lock you out.

“I am grateful for what you did-“ You attempted to mask your heavy breathing, “I’m just confused about why you did it.”

He didn’t need to turn around for you to know he was rolling his eyes. “I’m not fucking heartless Int- y/n.” He skirted around ‘intern’ completely hypocritical to how he normally addresses you.

“You know my name.” Stepping towards him and pointing out the elephant in the room.

He took a deep sigh, “Yes I know your name. I also know you’re not an ‘Intern’ anymore.”

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter, you’re still an intern to me.”

“So, you can call me that but Landon can’t? What the fuck is that about?”

He groaned exasperated, running a hand through his thick golden hair, “I don’t fucking know (y/n), okay? That’s my nickname for you, I started it.”

“So you’re the only one allowed to call me that?” Scoffing at his words.

His expression intensified on you, taking a step forward, “I don’t fucking like you Intern.” Pressing an index into your sternum, “I am so fucking sick of your bullshit.”

“Bullshit? What bullshit? Just me existing? And doing my job?” You snapped back, halting slightly when the wall behind you met your backside. Furious hot blood ran through your veins but also down into your core and between your legs. Just the sight of him enraged turned you on, especially when he had taken it out on someone for you – especially when you were the cause of it.

“You know what you do and i’m sick of it. I told you last time to cut that shit out.” His cobalt eyes boring into your own.

In a strong tide of brat ebbed into you, “Or what? Whatcha gonna do about it huh?”

The swirling conflict in his face revealed his own restraint from you, you were driving him mad too. He huffed and pushed himself off the wall, bringing a hand to his forehead, “You’re fucking impossible.” Circling back to you, “Has anyone ever fucking told you that you’re insufferable?”

His words only igniting the steam seeping from your ears. Insufferable? Who fucking calls someone insufferable?

Your fingers curled into tight fists and eyebrows scrunched, “Me? Me insufferable?” Pushing yourself off the wall, pointing your index at him, “Have you fucking met yourself? If either of us are insufferable, its fucking you,” Jabbing into his chest, keeping eyes locked on his, “You’re so fucking unbearable. You make my job fucking miserable and I fucking hate you.” The words poured out of you through vicious emotion.

There was a shift in Austin’s face, you couldn’t tell if it was more anger or something else entirely. “Yeah, well if I’m so fucking intolerable, I’ll find somewhere else to fucking sleep.” Austin made a sharp turn towards the door.

“Where the fuck are you going to sleep? There’s no rooms left.” You called from the other side of the hotelroom.

Austin halted and you thought he’d made a connection at the obvious, that there was nowhere else to sleep but his hand stilled on the doorhandle. He just barely turned his face to the side speaking over his shoulder, “I’d rather sleep on a bench or in my fucking car before I ever share a bed with you.” Slamming the heavy door behind him.

His words stung the same way the ones on set did – ‘this isn’t fucking happening again’ – it was kinda the same sentiment, wasn’t it? He didn’t want anything to do with you. Maybe you were the pest after all.

The somber energy was quickly replaced with molten hot lava still steaming through your veins. You let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding and rested against the wall. Suddenly the memory of him pressing you against the wall in fury just minutes ago, which then led to reminiscing over that day in the trailer… him chaining you to the door. Overwhelming anger and testosterone lingered in the air and it sent butterflies swarming in your core. As much as you knew you should be pissed about how he just acted it didn’t stop the pooling between your legs.

You took in the situation, you were alone. Austin left and you now had a room all to yourself. Your eyes landed on the small bed, your steps toward it like tiptoeing in a house at night, like you were trying to hide from yourself. The internalized shame only fueled the rampant thumping in your pussy, your fingers hooked into the band of your panties and pulled them down before crawling on the pre-made bed. Timid fingers slithered down your torso towards your open legs, you couldn’t believe you were doing this. Your chest was rising and falling, and a concrete pit fell to your tummy. When your middle and ring finger landed where the pulsing demanded attention you couldn’t help a tiny moan out.

Circles swirled on your swollen clit, “Fuck.” You breathed out lulling your head back and closed your eyes. The gentle rotation sent shock waves through your body and urged it to speed up, but you wanted this to last. You wanted to savor it.

Your digits were good, but Austin’s were better and the thought of him was definitely not helping your slow-and-steady goal. The glaring sound of your heart racing filled your ears, and the pleasure caused your entire body to respond, your back arching in time with your fingers. Without any restraint, “Fuck Austin.” You moaned.

“Ahem.” A much too familiar voice shocked you from your trance, eyes shooting wide open, and legs tightly clamped around your hand.

A bright rouge emerged on your embarrassed cheeks, “What the fuck are you doing here, I thought you left!”

“I left my bag, but I don’t think that’s the important question right now.” He stated casually but you observed how his eyes trailed down your body.

“Can you just please get the fuck out?” Fluster clear in your tone, tilting your body from him.

“Hm,” He ignored the question then his eyes finally landing on your flushed face, “Is this because of me?”

“W-What?” Caught off guard but hastily shook your head, “Just get the fuck out please.”

“No, No answer the question.” He stepped next to the bed, hips level with your rested head.

“I um-“ You raked through possible excuses, “No, of course not.”

“Hm,” He hummed again, a gently touch starting to draw up your leg, “So you weren’t thinking about that faucet on your cunt?” His wandering hand stopped at your hip.

“Nope,” You replied confidently, attempting to tame your body’s natural response to his touch.

An index traced up your bent leg, “Is it because of me?” He repeated.

“Is what because of you?”

Effortlessly, he pried your legs apart, “That. Are you touching yourself because of me?” Before you could even answer his knuckle slid down your inner thigh, his digits landing on your own. “If I caused it, I should fix it.” He gently pressed on your fingers signaling to let him take over. “Just like…” His free hand drawing yours to the bulge in his pants. “You caused this. So you’re gonna fix it.”

You didn’t need to be told twice to pull him out of his pants and start stroking his veiny length that your hand could barely fit around. He immediately snatched your wrist, “Not like that. Your mouth.”

You hesitantly looked up at him, he was so big there was no way you’d be able to take him. Though, when his fingers started moving you knew you didn’t want to stop. With a slight readjustment, you softly twirled your tongue around his head, triggering a deep rumble from his chest. “Yeah, just like that.” His free hand found your hair and tangled his fingers into it, curling at the roots with a tug.

You used your closest hand to wrap around the rest of him that couldn’t fit in your mouth beginning to pump at the base while you gained a rhythm bobbing your head on his shaft. The way his body responded to you – his cock twitching on your tongue, deep guttural groans and his hips shoving himself further down your throat – sent flurries of buzzing pleasure to your swelling bud. He was responding like that because of you, you made him unravel. The reminder of his status rang in your head – you had the oh so sought-after Oscar-winning actor balls deep in your throat. It was quite an ego boost. You kept your gaze on him, watching his face contort with pleasure. His hand slid down the side of your face when he looked down at you, his palm finding your cheek. “You look so fucking pretty with your lips around my cock.”

Pretty

What a soft name to use in such a sexual act. If it was one thing you knew about ‘Austin Butler’ was that he was anything but soft.

You hummed around him, your lips bet the edge of your fist with every repetition. His cock thickened and swole to be a rock-hard throbbing mess, with the taste of his pre-cum you sensed he was close. Pulling off with a pop, you looked up with big puppy-dog eyes, “Wanna cum on my face?”

He shook his head, “No darlin I’m just gettin’ started.” The hand was once in your hair, now ran up your side trailing goosebumps behind. “Hold steady will ya?” You had no idea what that meant especially when he escaped from your grasp. He swiftly dropped his jeans, stepping out of them then climbed onto the bed, anchoring a knee at each side of your head. He tapped his wet cock on your lips, “Open up.”

Your eyes widened but obliged, opening up for him and taking him even deeper than before down your throat. He leaned froward at an angle starting to thrust into your mouth, gaining a deep grunt from him. While he kept fucking your mouth, a hand trailed down your abdomen ending at your thighs and promptly spread them. Your pussy was practically vibrating at the realization of what he was doing, bending down fully and flattening his tongue against your clit. You couldn’t help but let out a tiny squeak.

Immediately your hips rolled up against his tongue desperate for more. His tongue felt so fucking good, sending scorching shivers across your skin. The pleasure began to compound into your clit and the knot in your tummy told you that you wouldn’t last as long either. You let out a groan around his girth as the tingling in your center grew and you knew you had to do something in order to not fold so quickly.

Using all your strength and taking advantage of his lowered guard, you practically threw you both into a roll, landing you on top. He took no time in adjusting to the new position, in fact the twitching of his cock in your mouth told you it only turned him on more. The change of events gave you a new sense of confidence, slowly pulling off his length, keeping your tongue on him til you came off with a pop. He responded with a vibrating moan on your pussy, eating you more voraciously. You rutted your hips on his face, his hands caressed up your thighs and molded to your hips carefully. But you wanted more, so you gently guided up his hands guiding up your torso to your breasts. His hands instantly began massaging your mounds and playing with your nipples over your dress. “Fuck.” You breathed out, taking in the little bit of control you’d gained.

Without warning, from one particularly delicious round of his tongue on your clit, your orgasm washed over you almost violently. You should’ve been embarrassed at how loud you were being, seeing as your room was next to the others but in that moment you couldn’t care. How could you when your mind was blinking flashes of white as your orgasm ripped through you.

You needed him and you needed him now. In a feral jolt you attempted to get off his face, the sensation getting too much. He instantly gripped your hips, digging his nails into them holding them in place just above his lips. “Remember what I told you earlier, it’ll feel good. I promise.” His voice so rich and dripping in dark desire. Then he did something you didn’t expect, he blew a stream of air directly on your throbbing nub, sending chills and goose bumps to erupt across your skin. You were so sensitive that just the blow of air sent you into another frenzied orgasm. Your juices were dripping down your thighs and onto him and you couldn’t take it anymore, you needed him.

Mid-orgasm you somehow managed to rip from his grip, flip over and slide yourself on his still erect member. The sudden contact gained you a loud groan and his long digits back curled around your hips, a feeling you were beginning to crave. He looked at you with dark navy eyes full of utter loathing, the look alone was driving you crazy. How could someone looking at you with such hate turn you on so much?

Your eyes rolled back once the head of his cock was planted in the deepest part of your core and you began to roll your hips keeping him in place. Your own hatred for him fueled your actions, faster, harder, angrier. Now that you had a full view of him, every single little off-hand comment or insult pushed you to ruin him.

His hands drew up your waist, then your chest, seemingly taking in every inch of you, then grasped you by your midsection pulling you down to face him. A split second passed as he studied your face, then most unexpectedly, using his hands to pull you into a kiss. It was a jarring shock at first, especially since you were mentally preparing his demise just seconds ago, but you easily melted into it. His tongue slid across your bottom lip begging for entrance and you obliged.

The tip of his tongue hesitantly met yours before dancing against it ravenously. From what little you knew about this man, you at least knew that hesitation was not in his arsenal of abilities. Out of everything, why the fuck would he hesitate over a measly kiss?

He trailed down your body, again giving each part of you attention before landing on your hips once more. This time his grip was tight than ever, and it was clear as to why when he kept you in place when he started to thrust into you from below. The position allowed his dick to reach greater depths within you. In one sharp ram into your core, you both let out moans into each other’s mouths. Your fingers found his hair and intertwined in it, his pumps and your tongues at work never halting.

The sound of your bodies colliding against each other filled the room and his pumps became quick and erratic. You could tell he was close, so you decided to help him a little extra by clenching your walls around him each time his cock filled you fully. Shortly after your extra aid he spilled a thick river of cum deep inside you, his entire body tensing beneath you. Since his movements halted from his orgasm you took over, bouncing on his member to ride out his high.

You finally pulled from his plump lips and he let out a tiny whine as if he didn’t want to let you go. Once you felt him begin to soften inside you, you pulled off and fell next to him. Your chests rose and fell in time with each other, equally coated in sweat. A silence fell over the room as the realization of the event started to settle in, suddenly the giant elephant entered the room again. Your eyes locked onto the dark wooden ceiling, words couldn’t seem to form in your fucked-out mind.

Out of your peripheral you caught him close his eyes and take a deep breath. He spoke nothing and peeled himself from the plush duvet, taking a moment to sit on the edge in thought then crossing the room, disappearing into the bathroom then reappearing with a towel.

“Here.” He said simply offering the white cloth, even the tiny peace offering held distain.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, snatching the towel and started to clean yourself up. “So um are you-“ He stopped you before you began.

“I’m staying.” He never even so much as looked at you and just went through his leather go-bag, pulling out what looked like pajama pants.

“But why you said-“ You began to protest but was once again cut off.

“I didn’t find another place to sleep.” His voice so emotionless and deadpan. “So, I’m stuck here with you.”

You scoffed, “Because that would be so fucking bad?” Pulling yourself up on your elbows to look over at him.

His turned and eyes locked onto you like a target, eyes void of any feeling that wasn’t abhorrence. “Yes. It is. Because I’ve truly never met somebody that I hate more than you. Being trapped in the pits of hell sounds more pleasant than spending the night here with you. So, just stay on your side of the bed and I’ll stay on mine.”

A burning flared across your body in anger and roaring even fiercer in your chest with a feeling you couldn’t place. How could someone be so fucking vile over someone they barely knew. “Fine.” Your tone matched his with equal aggression. “Fucking sounds good to me.”

-

-> Part 3 up now 💓

taglist: @lindszeppelin @steph-speaks @sagesolsticewrites @presleysdarling @purejasmine @slowsweetlove @powerofelvis @pennyroyalcreep @navsblog @eliseinmemphis @cryingabtab @ab4eva @infatuatedharleys @samfangirls @julie181 @ccab @denised916 @katelswan @amaliking @michellelv @butlersluvbot @coloradohighs @rairaielv @centaine @babyminghao @saesire @h3ll0k1tt9 @tchalametishot @austinbutlerinleather

If you'd like to be tagged in a potential Part 3 please comment 💗

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this story/my writing pls consider giving my main fic, Forever Winter, a read - if you like angsty sad smutty you’ll probably like it lol

also pls consider giving this a like, comment or reblog ♡

[wfanfic56]

Pathetic? | Price x Reader

He was nervous, angry, you could see it through his walk around the secret base. Boys got silent, they don't want to go between them, even Nikolai didn't make any jokes. Laswell and Price got into fight...

You were watching them for almost an hour. His veins on his neck are visible, he's pissed off. They were arguing about Shadows, about Shepard, about Makarov... He wanted to find them, and Laswell didn't want him to get killed, the usual scene in the base these few days while you're there.

"How long is this gonna take?" Gaz asked whispering. -"I don't know mate" said Ghost. Gaz turned to you, begging with his eyes. "Y/N... Do something, please."

"Okay you two, knock it off." They didn't even noticed that you said something. "HEY OLD FARTS!!" they turned around "Knock it off!! You've been on each others throat, whole morning!"

You stood up from the couch and walked by them, to get yourself a cup of tea, but he grabbed you for your wrist, his frown says it all. "What did you say, Sergeant? How did you just call me?"

"You heard it very well." You smile, provoking him. -"You smile too much L/N, it makes you look stupid."

Imitates his accent "And you're too serious, eh? It makes you look pathetic!"

Price looks at you, his frown disappears and his grip loosen."That's what you think of me?" asks you curiously, his voice quiet.

"That's how you look these past few days. You don't think of consequences, you're putting in danger your whole team because of some general who betrayed us. We can get him, but we need you as our leader, not as a man eager for revenge."

The team looks at you two, tension is clearly there between you two. He frowns again, his voice is raspy "You and I are gonna talk, right now! Get in that room!!"

"John, don-" –"Don't you dare say another word, Laswell!"

"What the hell just happened?" - Soap

Price slams the door, and locks it. He slammed you against the wall and started kissing your neck, his hands working on taking off your clothes "I have a really smart girl, it took me just a minute to realise what you wanted."

He turns you around to face the wall, he slides his cock deep inside of you, his one hand is on your mouth, while the other holds your hands tightly behind your back.

"I'm pathetic, huh? You call my life pathetic? Well guess what darlin' – you're in my life too." He got all red in face, your moans drives him crazy. He started thrusting roughly into you, he groans with every thrust. "And when we get home, I won't let you rest whole week. I'll be like an animal, and I'll make you scream my name until you get pregnant. And after 9 months, you'll give a birth to a beautiful girl."

He felt your walls tighten, and he pulls himself out, your eyes teary from the pleasure he gave you. "I will tease you every day like this, you will beg for me, until we come home. Then I'll make you my wife, and we will get retired and you will stick with me in my pathetic life forever." He whispers in your ear, while he dresses himself up.

"And next time, I won't lead you to another room, I will fuck you in front of everyone." You nodded, your legs shaking.. "Good girl."

[ohbo-ohno]

Bo, I had a dark au idea that I really love but I’m too shy to post it on my main so I’m sending it to you because I think you might like it.

Soap and Ghost who are ready for the next stage in their lives now that they’re retired from the military. Setting up a nursery in the new house they bought and filling it with all sorts of cute toys and plush blankets to welcome a sweet little baby into their lives.

But there are so many problems that arise from this because of the fact that Ghost is, technically, dead. They can’t really adopt and it’s hard to find a surrogate who is willing to carry for them discreetly, even when they’re offering more then the usual prices. And even when they do, they have an even harder time finding one that they actually like. They can’t have just anyone carry their baby!

So they’re disheartened after months of searching and Soap is starting to think that it may never happen when Ghost comes home from the store one day and says that he thinks he found the perfect girl to carry their baby. Reader. Soap is immediately excited, he can’t wait to meet this mystery person. The overworked and run down cashier that rang Ghost out earlier that day. Younger then both of them and, as they were soon to find out through a little research (*coughstalkingcough*), struggling horribly. A shitty apartment in the bad side of town, little to no furniture, and working double shifts at at least 2 jobs just to make ends meet. It hurts Soap to see the future carrier of their child (because he decided the second that Ghost said he wanted you that you would be their surrogate) in such bad condition. He wants to take you home with them the minute he sees your horrible living conditions and Ghost has to physically hold him back by the scruff of his neck to keep him from ruining his plan.

His plan being to sabotage your whole life. Call and write in several complaints to your jobs from numerous phone numbers and email addresses, making up scandalous rumors to get you fired and pretending to be your previous bosses when you try to find new ones, ensuring that you can no longer even try to sustain yourself. And all of it will peak when you’re three months behind on your rent and your landlord finally evicts you. With nowhere to go, you’re forced to live in homeless shelters, crying your eyes out when Ghost finally lets Soap approach you.

And he’s so nice to you, pretending to be a volunteer at the shelter, offering you a warm meal with him tonight, a better bed to sleep in, a hot shower. It sounds like heaven to you, you can’t help but agree. Even smile when Soap says his husband will probably be there to meet you in the morning.

And met him you did, several hours later, waking up to his cock filling you, Soap’s hands on your belly, cooing to you that it would all be fine. They’ll take care of you, keep you safe and warm and happy, they just need a little something in return. This is the least you could for for them, isn’t it? They’ll get you anything you could ever need or want.

Anddddddd then they end up never letting you go, even after a baby is born ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️. Sorry I got a bit carried away, but I’m going feral over this idea - 🕸

sorry for the semi late response spiderweb!!! this is such a cool idea, tysm for sending it to me! i really don't have anything much to add, but i want everyone else to get to see it too lol

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

chapter 8.

Note: as I needed a break from writing the Dead Man fic yesterday and today, I was in need of my silly little fighter!Sihtric, because his story isn't over yet. Other Fighter chapters are in my masterlist.

Warnings: fluff, suggestive, little bit of angst. mention of alcohol/getting drunk, Sihtric's breeding kink.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: Sihtric became a whole different man after his retirement, and not in a way you had expected.

wordcount: 4,1k

Masterlist

'I think I need to remind you who I am.'

'Gods,' Sihtric groaned.

You looked up from your book, annoyed, having read the same page five times already, as your man kept distracting you. Sihtric leaned with both hands against the glass window of your hotel room, shirtless while wearing black swimming trunks, overlooking Bondi beach. Him being constantly shirtless has been the only pleasant thing so far, ever since you arrived at the hotel room yesterday morning, which you had only left for breakfast, lunch and dinner… in the hotel itself.

'It's so fucking hot,' he whined.

'What did you expect?' you glared at your husband from the bed, 'it's Australia.' 

You rolled your eyes just before Sihtric turned to face you.

'Yeah, well, I thought everyone always exaggerated,' Sihtric huffed.

It was only two in the afternoon, and Sihtric had been getting on your nerves for hours already. You loved your husband, more than anything, but ever since he retired from his fighting career about a month ago, he had changed. Sihtric clearly always used his job as a way to channel his bloodlust, so to speak, but since he had given it up for you, not even punching a bag or a sparring partner anymore, he had been incredibly hard to be around. He was constantly complaining about everything and he was even more hot headed than ever before. Sihtric was also much hornier than ever before, which you didn't even know was possible and hadn't been a problem back home, but it is a problem now. He had been so determined to go to Australia with you, where the heat was unbearable this time of year, so it was even too hot to have sex. And when your already short fused husband couldn't get it on with you, because the weather made you both feel slow and lightheaded, he became even more insufferable to be around, you found out.

'Look,' you said, taking a deep breath as you closed your book, 'you were so pushy about going here, and now we're here. Will you at least pretend to enjoy it?'

Sihtric stared at you, with dark eyes and his jaw clenched, which told you he felt provoked by you. Which also meant he was getting turned on, while you started to lose your patience with him and his behaviour.

'I didn't even want to go here,' you sighed, 'I'm here for you, Siht, okay? If we're going to sit on our fucking asses all day in a hotel room, because it's so fucking hot,' you mocked Sihtric's voice, 'then what the hell are we doing here in the first place?! Such a waste of money,' you muttered.

'You're mocking me?' Sihtric asked, his voice low and calm, but the fire in his eyes burned heavily as his mismatched pair were still locked on you.

'God!' you yelled and jumped up, 'you're absolutely unbelievable lately! You keep complaining about the heat, in fucking Australia! So, yeah, maybe I am mocking you!' you hissed.

You walked into the hallway of your hotel suite and grabbed your flip flops, as well as your bag, wanting to leave the room before you'd climb the walls, or worse; hear another dumb complaint coming out of your man's mouth. But Sihtric was quick to corner you, like he had done that very first time you ever met, during his intake at your office. His chest heaved up and down steadily, with big breaths, and he stared down at you with his silly intimidation tactic.

'You raise your voice at me?' Sihtric breathed as you rolled your eyes.

His eyes darted between your lips and your eyes, before he eyed you up and down completely. He liked that little summer dress you had on. And he had definitely loved the sight of you bending over in it to pick a pen up from the floor, which he deliberately dropped before he had leaned back on the bed about an hour ago, waiting for you to notice the seemingly innocent pen, that had probably rolled off the desk. Unaware of Sihtric's trick, you had picked up the pen before you went to read your book, not long after he set his plan in motion, and he had been horny ever since, but even the airco didn't cool off your room, he thought, which left him frustrated.

'Hm?' Sihtric hummed and took your chin, firm but gentle, forcing you to look up at him, 'you mock me and raise your voice at me?'

'And?' you shrugged, feeling a cheeky grin tug at your lips.

'And?' Sihtric repeated, 'do I need to remind you who I am?' he cockily held his chin up high as he looked down at you, and he licked his lips.

You provoked him on purpose by rolling your eyes once more. Sihtric may be behaving incredibly boyish as of late, but you still enjoyed riling him up, as you thought he was so hot and sexy when he felt he had to be dominant towards you. And riling him up also meant he wouldn't complain for at least a few minutes.

'Yeah, I think I do,' he said, then hummed again, 'I think I need to remind you who I am,' he kept holding your chin as his free hand moved up your thigh, sliding underneath your short, floral dress.

Your breath hitched as his hand moved up towards your bare buttocks, and he squeezed your ass hard.

'I already thought you weren't wearing any panties,' Sihtric chuckled mischievously and bit down on his lip for a moment, 'yeah, you definitely need to be reminded who you belong to, and who you are talking to with that little attitude of yours.'

'Let us not speak about attitudes in this room, Sihtric Kjartansson,' you taunted.

'So you do know who you're talking to?' Sihtric husked, rubbing his big, warm hand over your ass before he bruisingly squeezed the skin again, making you squirm slightly as he still had you backed into a corner. 'You need to be taught a lesson about the way you speak to your husband, little miss,' he smirked, knowing you were getting aroused too.

'Sure,' you feigned a yawn.

'You're asking for a good spanking,' Sihtric murmured.

'Am I?' you asked innocently.

'Mhm,' he hummed and rolled his hips against yours, his hard cock pleasantly putting pressure onto your wet folds, 'you need a hard lesson, it seems. But don't worry,' your husband chuckled, 'I will teach you some manners.'

Sihtric moved his hand from your chin down to your throat, wrapping around you with the exact amount of intensity you enjoy, while he started to tease your core with his fingertips.

'When I'm using that tight pussy of yours,' his voice raspy, 'you will say "yes, sir", "no, sir", and "sorry, sir",' Sihtric hummed at the arousing thought, 'you will say "more, sir", "harder, sir", and most of all,' he smiled, 'you will say "please, sir, fuck me a little deeper, sir".'

'You think I will?'

'Oh, you will, baby girl,' he whispered.

'Well, I think you need a cold shower,' you shrugged.

'I think we both do,' Sihtric smiled, 'I think you need to rid me of some anger,' he said, then threw you over his shoulder and carried you into the large bathroom.

After you had dinner in the hotel, you struggled to walk down the stairs of the main entrance, while Sihtric held you close, his hand placed on your lower back. Your husband had a lot of built up anger in him lately, and by the time he was done with you in that shower, you were sore and numb at the same time. Sihtric seemed fine, albeit a little on edge and still complaining, but at least less horny and rather satisfied, for now.

Since Bondi beach was packed with tourists, you both agreed to take a cab to Maroubra beach, which was rather empty when you arrived, about an hour before sunset. Sihtric held your hand as he walked you up to the sandy beach, where he picked you up in his strong arms to carry you closer to the water, then onto a large rock that gave you the perfect view of the setting sun. You spread out the towel you had packed and before you could even blink, Sihtric pulled you down with him and held you in his arms, lovingly pecking your cheek and neck.

'I love you, bunny,' he whispered.

'I love you too, tiger,' you smiled.

God, you thought, how handsome Sihtric looked right now. His hair braided and tied back into a short ponytail, the setting sun casting an orange glow on his beautifully scarred face, while his big eyes looked at you in awe. His white, thin sleeveless shirt showed off his biceps while his swimming trunks showed off his muscular legs, and a part of his deadly thighs.

'You think you're pregnant already?' he suddenly asked.

'Sihtric,' you snorted, 'stop being so obsessed with getting me pregnant.'

'Well, how many more times do we need to try?'

'Babe, I don't know,' you sighed softly, 'but… I guess if it doesn't happen soon we should go to a doctor,' you said softly.

'What do you mean?'

'Maybe, you know,' you said hesitantly, 'maybe I can't get pregnant the usual way… I mean, it's not like we're not trying, but,' you sighed again, 'no luck so far.'

You looked down at your feet while Sihtric studied your frown.

'Hey,' he whispered, then kissed your cheek, 'we'll keep trying, okay? It will be fine. And if you want to go see a doctor in a few weeks or months, then we will. We'll find a way.'

'But… what if I… what if I can't get pregnant?' you whispered.

'We will find a way, bunny,' Sihtric kissed your lips softly as he held your chin, 'I promise we'll find a way. Don't worry about that, my love. No need to stress about any of that.'

Sihtric held you as you sat in silence for a while, gazing at the view.

'You know,' he said after a while, 'I always thought Australia had more… mountains. You know, that scenery from those movies you like so much. Lord of the… Kings?'

'Do you mean Lord of the Rings?' you frowned, offended.

'Yeah, yeah,' Sihtric smiled, proud he almost got the title right despite him falling asleep before Frodo even showed up.

'Honey, that's New Zealand. Not Australia.'

'Oh.'

The next day kind of went the same as the day before. It was too hot, Sihtric was constantly complaining about literally everything, and when you had enough and wanted to go for a walk, Sihtric got you in the bathroom again. After another hour of sex in the shower, you went for dinner again and back to the same beach as yesterday, as it was a quiet and beautiful place. At least, it was until your loving husband opened his mouth again.

'The food here could've been a little better,' Sihtric complained, remembering dinner.

'You seemed to like that steak just fine.'

'It was okay,' he shrugged and looked around, 'why don't they have lounge chairs here?'

'Sihtric, please-'

'Or a bar or something. I'm hungry,' he mumbled, 'if that restaurant wasn't so slow with their service I would've ordered a dessert.'

'Siht,' you sighed.

'Of course,' your husband hissed as he slapped a bug which had landed on his leg, 'fucking bugs here. The fuck is with this place?'

'I can't believe I'm saying this,' you finally snapped, 'but will you please, please pick up boxing again. I am begging you.'

'What?' Sihtric looked surprised and confused.

'You're driving me nuts, babe,' you groaned, 'please.'

'What are you talking about?' Sihtric frowned.

'Honey, you're constantly whining. You get annoyed at every little thing possible, you have absolutely zero patience and you're constantly horny,' you said, 'you really need to find something to keep yourself busy. Nitpicking is not a hobby.'

'I don't nitpick-'

'Sihtric.'

'I don't!'

'It's too hot,' you mocked him, 'the food is too bland. I don't like this beach. Where are the mountains? There are too many bugs. The bed is too soft, the pillow is too hard, and the shower is too small. I'm hungry, I had too much to eat. I'm tired. Baby, I can't sleep. Sweetie, will you rub my back? Please don't rub my back, honeybun, I got a sunburn. I also have a headache. Bunny, I'm horny, but it's too hot to have sex. Bunny, I'm so hard right now, but-'

'Okay, okay,' Sihtric snarled, 'fine. I see what you mean,' he sighed, 'but I just don't understand what me being horny has to do with all this.'

'Because you have all this build up anger and tension inside, you're getting rough, Sihtric.'

'I… I thought you liked that,' he said, suddenly clearly upset.

'I do, but not to the point where I can barely walk afterwards,' you chuckled lightly, 'like today.'

Sihtric looked down at his feet, and you could tell he was fighting to keep his bottom lip from trembling as he clenched his jaw.

'I'm sorry,' he barely whispered, avoiding eye contact.

'You don't have to say sorry, even though I appreciate it,' you said, 'sure, a little rough is fine, as we used to do. But you need to understand that I am so small in your arms, which I love, don't get me wrong,' you smiled softly, 'but earlier today it really seemed like you forgot how strong you are.'

'I'm sorry,' Sihtric whispered again, and tried to get up on his feet, but you stopped him.

'No, honey,' you said and held his hand, 'don't try to leave now. We have to talk about this right now. I'm not mad, I'm not rejecting you, you didn't hurt me, not the way you think at least. We're good, I promise.'

Sihtric looked a little insecure but sat back next to you again, keeping his head down. Like a puppy who got told off, while it was nothing like that.

'Like I said, sweetheart,' you cupped his cheeks, 'you have to find something you can put your energy in. Something that will take your mind off the little things that get you so worked up. I mean, we never really discussed it much, but do you even have a plan? For the future I mean?'

Sihtric shrugged lightly, trying to regain his confidence again.

'I just want a family with you,' he said softly, still looking down.

'And I want a family with you,' you squeezed his hands, 'but even if I were to get pregnant soon, it will still take a while before I'd give birth,' you chuckled, 'I mean what future plan do you have for yourself?'

'I don't know,' Sihtric said, and finally looked into your eyes again, 'I also notice I'm not myself lately. And I miss the fights, of course I do. But I know you don't want me to fight again, so I didn't mention it.'

'Yes, but you can still keep up with boxing or kickboxing, whatever, without participating in professional fights. Have you thought about that?'

'But that's not fun for me, you know that. It's too easy,' he said, 'but… I guess I've been thinking of either opening a new gym or moving locations to a bigger building.'

You smiled at Sihtric, relieved that he actually had been thinking about picking up some kind of work again, instead of constantly coming to you for his entertainment or complaining.

'That's really good,' you said, 'you want to expand then?'

'I guess,' he said, 'maybe get into coaching or just be a sparring partner. In between my own workouts of course. And,' he smiled shyly, 'I was also thinking that… maybe you could work at the gym too. Since I retired I don't need much physio anymore. And I know you won't say it, but I can tell you really want to get back to work too.'

'I do,' you agreed, 'I'm not made to go on holiday all the time and do nothing.'

'I know, baby,' Sihtric chuckled and traced his fingertips over your hand.

'But… you mean you'd become like my boss then?' you furrowed your brow, 'because I'm not sure if I like that idea. That usually goes wrong…'

'Oh, no, no,' Sihtric said, 'no, bunny. I don't want some strange power play like that. I don't want to be your boss. At least, not at work,' his cheeky grin appeared again, 'I just thought maybe you could rent a space in the building I'd buy. You'd be your own boss, you'd just pay me a fair rent and that's it. You'll still have me as your client too whenever I need it.'

You looked at Sihtric, thoughtful. You liked his idea. You never thought about an option like this, but it would be perfect for both of you. He could still go around and punch bags, and sometimes people, while you could go back to helping other people with physio exercises.

'A fair rent, huh?' you gave him a suspicious look.

'Yeah,' Sihtric said, 'we'd have to look into a property and determine a decent price. And if you're a little short on rent sometimes, you know, I'm sure we could fix that,' he winked.

'You mean like a blowjob could fix that?' 

You rolled your eyes when Sihtric feigned innocence, and then you both laughed. You wrapped your arms around Sihtric and pulled him in for a kiss.

'See,' you smiled, 'all good. Sometimes we just have to have conversations that aren't always pleasant. But that's life too.'

'I know,' Sihtric said, stealing another kiss, 'I just didn't know I've been such a bother to you lately. I never wanted that.'

'I know, sweetheart,' you kissed his cheek, 'I know everything's been rough for you too. And I hoped this trip would give you some peace of mind, to find yourself back again. But it only seemed to get worse. I couldn't bite my tongue anymore just now. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lash out.'

'I don't want you to bite your tongue around me, bunny, that's not right,' Sihtric cupped your cheeks, 'you know you can talk to me.'

'I know, but I didn't want to upset you either,' you sighed, 'but, okay, this is dealt with. I told you my issues, you told me your issues. Let's solve them together and move on now.'

'I like that idea,' Sihtric smiled and nuzzled your nose.

'Speaking about ideas,' you perked up, 'I know we're both not the biggest party people, but there's a beach party tomorrow evening at Bondi. I thought, why the hell should we not go? Have a few drinks, have some fun. People seem to not recognise you much here so far, or they just leave you alone. We should try it.'

'Hm, I don't know, bunny,' Sihtric said, a little unsure.

'Come on, honey,' you pouted, 'remember how much fun we had at that bar in Hawaii?'

Sihtric smiled at the fond memory, but his smile faded when he remembered what had happened afterwards, and you knew what went through his head.

'Don't think about what happened at the hotel,' you said and took his hands again, 'I just want to dance with you again, love. I miss seeing you smile like that. We'll have fun, I promise. And you can safely drink some alcohol again now that you're not taking any medication anymore.'

'Yeah, I guess that's true,' Sihtric said, 'but I'll probably be drunk in no time,' he grimaced.

Sihtric wasn't wrong. You had been at the beach party for only an hour and half, and Sihtric was completely wasted after two cocktails already. He was handsy, clingy and most of all; horny. He was slurring his words heavily, his mismatched eyes glossy and droopy, cheeks flushed red and he had a satisfied smile on his face. His hands kept grabbing your hips, pulling your ass against his crotch as he wanted to dance with you. You couldn't even call it dancing, Sihtric wasn't even aware of the music anymore, he was basically just dry humping you at this point. Luckily, there was a lot of that going on at that event, so no one even batted an eye at you and Sihtric. But you were too sober and felt a little ashamed, because you were in public.

'Siht,' you chuckled, blushing heavily at his cheeky behaviour while your back was pressed against his chest, 'calm down, love.'

'I am… calm,' Sihtric slurred, his hands moving under your thin skirt. He nuzzled your neck and giggled drunkenly in your ear. 

'Gods, I want to fuck my wife,' he breathed, and suddenly spun your around.

Sihtric cupped your cheek and brought his other hand to your waist, pulling you flush against his body again.

'You're so f-fucking b… beautiful,' he smiled with heavy eyes, 'I want to make babies,' he hummed, then stumbled a step back over his own feet as he lost his balance, pulling you with him.

'Sihtric!' you giggled, desperately keeping the beast of man up on his feet, 'you're too drunk, we should get back to the hotel.'

'No, no,' he shook his head, 'I'm fiiiiiiiiiiiiiine,' he laughed and took your face in his warm hands again, 'let's m-make babies on the,' he took a deep breath, 'the sand… that's near the- the water,' he frowned, 'or is the, the water near the ssssand?' he hiccuped and got distracted when someone walked by, offering shots.

'Honey, you had enough to…' you stopped talking when Sihtric downed the shot and quickly grabbed another, but not before he accidentally knocked over five full glasses.

'Oh,' he chuckled, 'oops. Why are these little things so little?' he asked, looking at the shot glass.

You apologised to the employee and they tried to explain it was okay, but Sihtric interrupted.

'Hey…hhhey,' Sihtric smiled at the stranger, 'I… this is my w-w-wife,' he said and gave the employee a mean look, but quickly giggled again, 'I'm going to get h-her pergnan… pren… pregan… I… I'm going to b-breed her,' he eventually nodded proudly.

'Oh my god,' you said with wide eyes, 'I'm so sorry,' you told the employee who smiled awkwardly at you, 'he's… he's clearly drunk. I'm taking him to the hotel now. Sorry for this mess.'

'Not a problem, miss,' the employee said and snorted, 'it's not every day you hear a retired boxing champion say he wants to breed his wife. Have a good night.'

'Thanks,' you said, embarrassed, and you pulled Sihtric with you over the beach, who was quick to grab another fruity cocktail with a little pink straw before he left the party.

'Heeeeey,' your husband slurred and he wrapped his arms around you, causing you to trip over his feet, and you fell onto the darkened side of the beach, 'where are you going? Oh- Oh… baby,' he murmured when he realised you had fallen down, and he crouched down next to you, spilling half of his drink over your dress.

'Honey where did you get that drink?' you scoffed, 'did you pay for that?'

 'No,' Sihtric confessed, 'mmmmmmaybe. N… no, I s-s-stole it,' he gasped, 'am I… am I going to jail again?'

'We,' you huffed, 'are going to sober you up at the hotel.'

You tried to get back up on your feet, but Sihtric was all over you, leaving sloppy open-mouthed kisses wherever he could while his hand squeezed your flesh with lust.

'Sihtric,' you chuckled, 'come on, not here,' you said and tried to escape his strong arms.

'Why not,' he hummed, 'w-wifey,' Sihtric smiled, then laid back on the sand, keeping you in his arms while he refused to let go of his drink. 'I want to… fffuck,' he sighed.

'Honey,' you clicked your tongue, 'I'm sure you do, but you can't even keep your eyes open. Come on now,' you managed to stand up while he held your hand.

'Hm, baby, it's not fair,' he whined, tugging your hand like a spoiled brat, 'I want youuuu…'

'When you sober up,' you said, 'let's go now, love.'

'No!' Sihtric pouted and crossed his arms.

'God, you're such a child,' you muttered, but had to admit you thought he was still adorable, 'okay, well, fine. You stay here, darling. I'll see you back at the hotel I guess,' you said and turned to walk away.

'No, no!' Sihtric yelled, hoarsely, 'baby… I…' he suddenly groaned, and you froze at the sound of his trembling voice, 'I- I don't feel… well,' he said.

You turned back to Sihtric and ran up to him.

'Honey?' you asked, worried, 'are you okay?'

'I feel… feel dizzy,' he struggled to speak and grabbed your arm.

Fuck,' you hissed, terrified he had a sudden episode that was the aftermath of his concussion somehow.

But then Sihtric suddenly pushed you away as he leaned in, closer to the ground, and he threw up; the aftermath of getting drunk so suddenly. You grimaced and took another step back, giving him his space to be sick without him vomiting over your feet. After about a minute, Sihtric wiped his mouth and sat back.

'I… I'm never drinking a-a-again,' he mumbled, and then gulped down the half spilled cocktail he had managed to keep safe during this entire adventure.

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Headcanon that Maverick adopts a retired base security dog once he retires, who unintentionally helps with his PTSD

He's wanted a dog his whole life, but his job negated that as a possibility. He loved his old family dog (the one we see in the photos on his bedside table in TG86) but he joined the navy so young he never got to have one of his own. After about a month of retirement and just sitting around completing small project after small project and waking up most nights to nightmares (about the accident of 86 and the uranium mission and darkstar, the list is endless) he decides he needs some routine company. Obviously Bradley and the rest of the dagger squad are working and when they're not he can't ask them to hang around for their whole leave, they have lives, so he goes to the Hard Deck a bit and hangs out with penny. There he sees Theo again and remembers how much he wants a dog. Maverick comes from foster homes and child care, so he's not entirely keen to just adopt from a breeder, he wants to rescue a dog. It's actually Hondo who puts the idea in his head about the retiring Top Gun base security dogs who will need homes. So he puts his name on a list. Two months pass when he gets an unexpected call from Top Gun. He panics a bit, thinking they've dug up some old dirt on him, but instead it's a nice woman telling him that a lovely eight year old, female belgian Malinois named Astrid who is retiring in a week, needs a home. He jumps on the opportunity, saying yes and immediately going out to buy everything he'll need, toys, beds, treats, the best brand of dog food. He feels a little over prepared in the end, like he has too many things. He does as much research into malinois as he can in the interim. He attends the retirement ceremony after everything is arranged and the hand over is seemless.

He now owns a dog.

Adjusting to life with a high energy working dog takes him a couple days, but they settle into a routine nicely. She joins him on his early morning 5 mile runs around his property, they do training sessions in the afternoons, he takes her into town for long walks. It's the first night he has a nightmare after he adopted her that he realises this was the best decision of his life. He can't breathe and he's sweating and he's panicking again, but suddenly he feels this gently pressure on his thigh and it brings him back to reality. Astrid had gently rested her head on him, applying careful pressure to ground him. He made sure to reward her for that, a few treats and lots of love. He made sure she knew she was welcome to sleep in the bed from then on. She was always keeping an eye on him after that. Maverick likes to think he needed her just as much as she needed him. They became inseparable. She went everywhere with him. Bradley was stoked that Mav had gotten a dog, coming around more to play with her often. It warms Maverick's heart to see them together.

These days, you can often find Maverick taking long walks along the beach at sun set, throwing the ball for Astrid while he watches the Top Gun students return from their afternoon hop. He thought he would hate retirement, but Astrid gave him a reason to look forward to every day