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fuzzyautumninmetal · 3 months

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Loving Husband pt 4

Olderhusband!Price 🤝 YoungerWife!Reader 🤝 I'm not spoiling it for you

Here it is!!!!!

Part 3 Part 5

As they walked into the doctor’s office, John put an arm around you, squeezing your shoulder comfortingly. He could sense your nervousness, but he was just as excited as you were. “Hey,” he whispered, leaning down to murmur in your ear. “No matter what it is, they'll be perfect.” You sat side-by-side on the examination bed, holding hands tightly as you both waited for the ultrasound technician to come in. The room was quiet except for the soft humming of medical equipment in the background.

“Ready?” The technician asked, breaking the silence as you laid on the bed and pulled your shirt up. John squeezed your hand reassuringly, giving you a supportive smile. He knew this was a big moment for them, and he wanted to be there for you every step of the way. She squirted some gel onto your stomach first which made you hissed slightly at the cold jelly. It made John chuckle.

"Don't laugh!" You pouted. "It's cold."

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, chuckling softly. “But it’s kind of funny.”

She then squirted some gel onto a handheld device and began moving it slowly over your stomach, watching the monitor intently. John leaned closer to the screen, trying to get a better view of what the technician was seeing. His heart pounded in his chest. There was a moment of silence before the technician mumbled a simple "Oh." You looked at the doctor and panicked, "What is it? Is everything okay?" She looked at you and chuckled, "Everything is fine. They're fine"

They?

Yours and Johns head shot up at the words. "They?" You questioned "As in plural?" Your hand tightened around Johns hand, your heart felt like it jumped into your throat as you waited for the doctor to confirm. John's heart skipped a beat at your question, his mind racing with possibilities. Twins? Identical twins? His gaze flickered between the ultrasound screen and the technician, waiting for her to say something - anything. "Yes" The technician smiled before look at you and John.

"You're having triplets"

John blinked, staring at the ultrasound screen in disbelief. Triplets?

He glanced over at you, finding you equally stunned expression mirrored in his own. Their jaws hung open, their hearts pounding wildly in their chests.

"Triplets..." He echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked at the technician with wide eyes "Triplets?" You gasped, your hand flew to your mouth in shock, "Are you serious? Three babies?" You started to cry happy tears. "Three babies" You cried while holding onto John for dear life. 4 months of failed pregnancy tests and now your here, at your 20 week scan being told you're having triplets. John wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as you burst into tears of joy. He couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with excitement himself. "Triplets," he repeated, his voice choked with emotion. "That's incredible."

He watched the technician move the ultrasound wand over your slightly swollen belly, fascinated by the sight of their unborn children squirming around inside you. It was a surreal moment, one that he would never forget.

"Look," he whispered, pointing at the screen. "There's one."

You wiped your tears away, sniffling as you tried to compose yourself. "I can't believe it" you said quietly, looking at the screen as you pointed at the second baby. "There's number two"

John grinned, squeezing her hand again. "And look at that...there's number three!"

He laughed, feeling light-hearted and carefree despite the weight of responsibility bearing down on him. They were going to have three children - a whole team of little ones under their roof. The rest of the appointment passed in a blur of information and advice from the technician, but neither of you really absorbed much of it. You both were too caught up in the amazing news that had just rocked their world. On the drive home, you kept stealing glances at each other, grinning widely and shaking their heads in amazement.

"Can you believe it?" John asked, reaching over to pat your thigh affectionately. "We're having triplets!"

"Oh god I've got tell my mom," You laughed as you got your phone out to call your mother. She's probably going to have a heart attack. Hearing that she's going to be a grandmother too 3 babies instead of 1. John chuckled, shaking his head as he listened to you talking animatedly on the phone. He could imagine how your mother must be reacting to the news - probably a mixture of surprise and delight. "It sounds like she's taking it well," he said, reaching over to squeeze your hand reassuringly. "She'll love being a grandma times three."

He sighed contentedly, thinking about how their lives were about to change forever. It was daunting, yes - but also incredibly exciting. "And to think," he added with a playful grin, "we used to worry about getting our laundry done." You squeezed his hand back and laughed, "We're defiantly going to need a bigger house." John chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah defiantly"

"It's crazy how things change in an instant," he murmured thoughtfully, "One minute we're dealing with failed pregnancy tests and worrying about whether or not we'd ever conceive...and now..." He trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief as he glanced over at you. You were radiant, your eyes sparkling with happiness and excitement. "And now we're expecting triplets."

"I feel like this is mother nature's way of apologising" You smiled, feeling the tears falling down your cheek again as John pulled up to your shared house. John nodded, understanding what you meant. It was a bit like fate stepping in and setting things right after all those failed attempts. "Yeah," he agreed, reaching over to gently wipe away your tears. "A beautiful apology indeed." He parked the car and turned to face you, pulling you into a tender kiss. As their lips met, he could taste the saltiness of your tears - a bittersweet reminder of their past struggles but also a hopeful promise for their future.

"Well," he murmured against her lips, "We better tell the lads"

"Ooo let's invite them over for dinner" You suggested as you got out of the car. John grinned, liking the idea. "Dinner sounds good. We could even make it a barbecue." He helped you out of the car (forever a gentleman), wrapping an arm around your waist as they walked towards the house.

1 week later

"I'll get it" You shouted to John, who was in the backyard getting the barbecue set up, when you heard the doorbell. John chuckled, continuing to prepare the grill as he heard you answer the door. He could only imagine the flurry of activity that would ensue once they broke the news to their friends. "Just give me a few minutes," he called back, his voice filled with amusement. "I'm almost ready!"

You opened the door to see Gaz, Ghost and Soap standing there with big smiles on their faces. You hugged them all and invited them in. "Come on guys. John's just in the back setting up the barbecue." As soon as the door opened, Ghost's nose picked up the distinct smell of meat grilling on charcoal. His stomach growled in anticipation.

"Barbecue?" he asked, grinning widely. "Now you're talking!"

They followed you into the house and made their way towards the backyard where John was already busy flipping burgers and hotdogs. "So how's the mother to be?" Gaz asked you with a big, shit eating grin on his face. "She's fucking tired and she's only 3 months pregnant" You answered Gaz with a chuckle as you passed everyone a beer. Everyone laughed at Gaz's question and your response, raising their beers in salute as they took a seat around the patio table.

"Sounds about right," Gaz chuckled, "But you're doing great, love." Soap and Ghost nodded in agreement, their expressions softening with genuine concern and admiration. "And don't worry," Soap added, "We'll be here to help however we can."

"Good" You smiled as you walked up to John and put an arm around his waist. "Because you 3" You pointed to the three men. "Are going to be uncles to triplets." The air suddenly became thick with shock and disbelief as everyone's gazes shot between you and John. Even the sizzle of the grill seemed to fade away for a moment.

"As in 3 babies?" Soap choke out, his eyes wide with disbelief. Gaz and Ghost looked at each other in disbelief.

"Yes as in 3 babies" You giggled as you held onto John tighter.

There was a moment of stunned silence before everyone burst into cheers and congratulations. Soap even did a little happy dance. "Triplets!" Gaz exclaimed, slapping John on the back. "That's fantastic!" Ghost, always the more reserved one, simply shook his head in awe. "Unbelievable...Do you know the gender?"

"Nope not until they arrive" you giggled as you felt the tears coming back to your eyes. "Oh god I'm getting emotional again" you laughed as you fanned your face, trying not to ruin your mascara. John wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close as he leaned in to whisper into your ear. "Don't worry love," he murmured softly. He gave you a gentle squeeze before turning back towards the team. "Alright guys! Who's hungry?"

With that, he went back to flipping the burgers and hotdogs on the grill while everyone else settled down at the table waiting for dinner to be served. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand and laughed, "I am starving." John chuckled, giving you a playful nudge as he headed inside to grab some plates and cutlery. "Good," he said over his shoulder, "because I've got plenty of food."

Soon enough, they were all gathered around the table, digging into the delicious feast that John had prepared. The conversation flowed easily among friends, laughter filling the air as they celebrated this wonderful news. "I gotta ask" Soap asked as he wiped his mouth, "Did ya conceive in my bathroom?" You blushed deeply and buried your face in your hands, "Oh God, Johnny..." You groaned, peeking through your fingers. "You're not letting that go are you?" You laughed as you hid your face in Johns arm.

John couldn't help but laugh at Soap's question, shaking his head slightly as he tried to suppress his amusement. "Oh come on," he teased, "It's not like we planned it or anything." He gave you a quick peck on the forehead before turning back to Soap. "But yes," he added with a chuckle, "we did." You looked at Soap with a serious expression "I swear to god, Johnny, If you ever tell our children they were conceived in your bathroom. You'll know about it!" You tried to be serious but you ended up laughing.

Soap raised his hands in surrender, holding up both palms towards you. "Hey now," he said innocently, "I wouldn't dream of it." Despite his words, a wicked grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he playfully jabbed at Ghost with his elbow. "But if he tells them," Soap continued with a smirk, "then I'm off the hook." You pointed at John, Gaz, Soap and Ghost, "None of you will tell them." John chuckled at your stern warning, leaning back in his chair as he folded his arms across his chest. "Of course not," he agreed with a teasing wink. "Our secret."

His gaze softened as he glanced over at you, reaching out to gently stroke your cheek with the back of his hand. "But remember," he added with a sly smile, "they might figure it out eventually." You raised your eyebrows at John, "They are never. Ever finding out." John chuckled softly, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. "They might not find out from us," he said with a playful glint in his eye, "but mothers have been known to slip up..." His voice trailed off suggestively.

You pretended to be offended. "Johnathan Price you take that back" you crossed your arms with a giggle. John raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning widely as he leaned back in his chair. "Alright, alright," he said with a chuckle, "I'll behave."

However, the mischievous twinkle in his eye suggested otherwise.

A few hours later, after dinner was finished and the dishes washed, everyone started to say their goodbyes. They hugged and shook hands before heading home. "Thank you for coming," John said sincerely as he waved goodbye from the doorstep. After seeing their friends off, John turned to find you in the kitchen. He moved silently behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he leaned down to press a kiss to your neck.

"I'm glad they could make it," he murmured against your skin. "But I'm even more glad it's just us now." His hands slid up under your shirt, tracing along your stomach as he pulled you closer against him. You leaned into Johns touch with a sigh of content as you rested one hand on John's and another on your bump.

You were only 3 moths pregnant but you were already showing. By a lot. You should of knows you were having triplets really but it never crossed yours or Johns mind, you were just happy to finally be pregnant.

Feeling your hand over his own, John's heart swelled with love and excitement. His fingers traced gentle circles against your belly as he pressed a series of soft kisses along your jawline. "You're amazing," he whispered huskily, "and so beautiful." His hands moved up to cup your breasts, thumbs rubbing slow circles over the sensitive peaks. As he kissed down your neck, he could feel your pulse beating rapidly beneath his lips.

"Let's go upstairs," he murmured between kisses. "But John." You moaned as you moved your head to the side, "I gotta finish cleaning the kitchen." John chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin as he spoke. "There's always tomorrow," he whispered huskily, His hands slid down from your breasts, tracing lower until they found the hem of your dress. With a gentle tug, he pulled it up and over your head, revealing the lacy bra you wore underneath.

"We can clean up in the morning," he murmured against your lips before capturing them in a deep, passionate kiss. You kissed John back with equal passion as you slipped your hands under his shirt pulling it up slowly as you reached his bare chest. Caught up in the moment, John allowed you to pull his shirt off. His hands moved to unclasp your bra, sliding the straps down your shoulders until it fell to the floor.

"God, you're stunning," he breathed, his gaze roaming over your body appreciatively.

Without wasting another second, he picked you up and carried you up the stairs to their bedroom. Once inside, he laid you gently on the bed before quickly stripping off his pants and boxer shorts. "C'mere," he murmured, crawling onto the bed and hovered over you. "John" You giggled as he crawled up the bed to hover over you. "You're too good to me sometimes" you whispered as your ran your fingers through his hair while staring into his beautiful blue eyes.

John chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with love and desire as he gazed down at you. "Just trying to keep up with my favourite girl," he teased, pressing a series of light kisses along your collarbone. He shifted slightly, trailing his fingers down your body until they found the hem of your panties. With a gentle tug, he peeled them off and tossed them aside. "Now," he murmured huskily, "where were we?" You shivered as John trail kisses down your body and removed your panties. "Oh I think you were about to show your pregnant wife how much you love her"

At your words, John's heart swelled with affection. He loved this feisty, strong-willed woman more than anything, and being able to share this journey with you was a blessing beyond measure. "That I was," he replied with a tender smile, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your thigh. With a low growl of anticipation, he lowered himself between your legs, pressing soft kisses against your inner thighs before moving higher. His tongue darted out, tasting you intimately as he listened to the sweet sounds you made.

John loved every part of you - your strength, your spirit... and most especially your body. He savoured each moment, taking his time as he worshipped you with his mouth. You arched your back as John licked and kissed your inner thighs as he moved closer to your cunt, "John" you whined as you felt his hot breath on your clit. Hearing you whine, John couldn't help but let out a low growl of satisfaction. It was music to his ears, the sound of your pleasure.

His tongue flickered out again, teasing your swollen clit before diving deeper to lap at your entrance. The taste of you was intoxicating, making him groan in approval. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, holding you open for him as he devoured you with an eagerness that bordered on desperation. He wanted to make sure you came undone under his ministrations, to hear those precious sounds of yours echoing throughout the room. John continued to lick and suck at your dripping cunt, driving you wild with pleasure. His hands held your thighs steady as he explored every inch of you with his tongue.

He could feel your body tensing up, signalling that you were close to climax. Not wanting to push you over the edge quite yet, he slowed down, focusing instead on teasing your clit with his fingers.

'Take it easy, love,' he thought to himself, 'we've got all night.'

"That's not fair," you whined as you grabbed his hair and tried to pull his face closer to your cunt. John chuckled softly at your whines, the vibrations sending delightful shocks through your sensitive flesh. He could feel you gripping his hair, trying to guide him back to where you wanted him, but he resisted. "Patience, love," he murmured against your wetness. "We have all night." With a final teasing lick, he pulled away slightly, giving you a wicked grin as he did so.

You let out a pathetic whine in frustration as John pulled his face away from your pussy. You swatted his hands away from you and sat up on the bed, "That's just mean!" You crossed your arms over your chest and pouted. John watched as you sat up, your expression one of pure frustration. He had to admit, it was rather adorable. "I aim to please, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle, leaning back on his elbows as he watched you.

"But if you insist..." With a swift move, he pulled you onto his lap, your back to his front. His cock, already hard and ready, nestled against your ass. "Better?" he asked, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You started grinding your hips on his thighs, desperate for some sort of friction. "No." Feeling you squirm in his lap, John knew exactly what you needed. His hand slid down your stomach, tracing over your belly where their babies were growing before dipping lower.

"Oh?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave as his fingers found your slick entrance. "What's this? Seems like someone's asking for something." With a gentle thrust, two fingers sank into your tight heat. His thumb circled your swollen clit, adding to the pleasure coursing through you. "Is this better, love?" he whispered against your ear, his teeth nibbling playfully on your lobe. You bit your lip as you nodded your head. Your hands gripped John's thighs as you pressed your back further into him and started rocking your hips back onto his fingers.

John groaned at the feeling of your hips rolling back onto his fingers. Your tight warmth enveloped him, drawing a low growl from deep within his chest. "God I fucking love you" he murmured, his other hand sliding around to cup your breast. His thumb brushed over your nipple, teasing it into a hard peak. "Fuck, you're going to make me blow my load without even getting inside you," he confessed, his breathing ragged. Your eyes rolled back as you moaned loudly. Your hands tightened on his thighs as you felt John's fingers slide in and out of your cunt. "John" you whimpered his name like a prayer.

John's heart pounded in his chest at the sound of your plea. He loved hearing you beg for him, loved knowing that he was the one who could make you lose control. "Right there, sweetheart?" he groaned, his fingers pumping faster into your tight heat. "Jesus Christ..." He could feel you clenching around him, signalling your impending orgasm. Without missing a beat, he added a third finger, stretching you even further.

You cried out as you came hard on John's fingers. Your cunt clenched tightly around them as your body shook from the force of your orgasm. You leaned heavily against John's chest, panting for air as you recovered from your intense orgasm. John groaned as your walls clamped down on his fingers, milking him for everything he was worth. The way you trembled and gasped in his arms was enough to drive any man insane. "Fuck...fuck, you're so goddamn beautiful when you cum," he grunted out, his own need throbbing painfully between his legs. But despite how much he wanted release, he refused to take it without giving you another orgasm first.

"Come on, love. Let's get you off again," he growled, his voice rough with desire as he resumed fingering you. This time, however, he focused solely on your clit, determined to send your spiralling into another orgasm. You whimpered as he continued to rub your clit. Your cunt was still spasming from your previous orgasm but you didn't care. You wanted more, you always wanted more with John. "Please" You begged, pressing your hips back onto his hand. John's heart thudded in his chest at the sound of your plea. You were so fucking needy at times, so desperate for him - and he loved it.

"God, you're such a dirty little slut," he growled, his breath hot against your skin as he continued to tease you. "I fucking love it."

His free hand reached around to caress your breast again, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers while his other hand kept working magic on your clit. You surrender to the ecstasy surging through you, a knot within uncoiling with trembling release. Your body convulses in pleasure as you cry out, each syllable a symphony of surrender. John's gaze is fixed upon you, his eyes wide with amazement as he witnesses the torrent of your climax. The liquid gold stains his thighs and the sheets beneath you, a testament to your abandon.

To John, watching you squirt was like watching a fucking masterpiece unfold right before his eyes. The way your body tensed up, the way your juices gushed out, it was all so fucking sexy.

But instead of pulling his fingers out of you, he curled them upwards, rubbing against that sweet spot inside you that made stars explode behind your eyelids. He wanted to keep going, to push you over the edge once more. And judging by the way you were twitching and gasping under his touch, he wasn't far off. "N-no more baby" you panted as you tried to push Johns hand away. Your body was twitching, you were overstimulated, "Please" you whispered softly. John chuckled softly at your pleas for him to stop, his fingers never slowing their pace. He loved seeing you so worked up, so close to the edge.

"No can do, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "Not until you've given me another orgasm." With that, he lowered his mouth to your neck, nipping and sucking gently at the sensitive skin there while his fingers continued their relentless assault on your cunt. You let out a whine as you felt John nip at your neck. You were so close to the edge but he just wouldn't stop (Not that you wanted him too). You felt your body start to shake as you came yet again, squirting all over his hand. It took every ounce of self-control not to scream his name as you came.

John groaned as your cunt squeezed his fingers once more, your body convulsing as you came on his hand. He could feel your warm juices coating his fingers and dripping down his wrist, and it only served to turn him on more. "Fucking hell..." he muttered, withdrawing his soaked fingers from your trembling cunny. With a swift movement, he brought them to his lips and sucked each finger clean, savouring the taste of you. You were whimpering, your body still twitching from the intensity of your orgasm. You turned your head to look at him, biting your lower lip as you watched him suck on his fingers. You wanted him, needed him inside you now.

"Please" you begged, reaching around to grab his cock. You stroked him slowly, loving the way he groaned in response. John's breath hitched as you wrapped your hand around his cock, your touch feather-light and teasing. His mind went blank, consumed by the need to be inside you. "Christ, love," he groaned, his grip tightening on the sheets beneath them. "I need to be inside you. Now."

You quickly got off his lap and turned to face him on the bed. You hand grabbed Johns hair at the nape of his neck as brought him in for a very hungry kiss. You were both naked, sweaty, John made you cum 3 times, squirt 2 times and yet you wanted more. You needed John inside you. John returned your kiss with an equal amount of hunger, his tongue dancing with yours as his hands roamed your body. He loved the feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips, the way you squirmed and moaned against his touch.

"Jesus Christ, you're insatiable," he murmured against your lips, breaking their kiss. "But I'm not complaining." You giggled at Johns comment about you being insatiable. You ran your hands along his slightly chubby (but strong) torso as you pushed him onto his back on the bed. You climbed on top of him, straddling his waist as you positioned his cock at your entrance. You looked down at him with a smirk as you slowly began to lower yourself onto him.

"You're just as bad" you whispered. John groaned as you slowly lowered yourself onto his cock, taking him inch by delicious inch into your tight, wet heat. He loved the way you fit perfectly around him, how you squeezed and gripped him with every thrust. "And you love it," he teased, placing a hand on your hip as he started to roll his hips up into your. "Don't deny it, love."

You bit your lower lip as you began to move on top of John. You moved slowly, riding his cock as you moaned softly. "Wouldn't be pregnant if I didn't" You admitted with a smile as you leaned forward to kiss him. John laughed softly as you admitted that you wouldn't be pregnant if you didn't love the sex as much as he did. He knew that was true - you always seemed to be ready for another round, no matter how many times they'd already gone at it.

"So lucky you're mine. My life. My world. My wife," he murmured, kissing you deeply before breaking away to watch you ride him. His hands roamed over your body, touching and caressing every inch of you that he could reach. (He's so in love with you, can never get enough) You smiled at John's words "My darling husband." You placed your hands on his chest as you leaned forward slightly, your breasts bouncing with each movement. You loved making John happy. You loved everything about him, even his rough edges, "Every day I thank my lucky stars that I found you."

His heart swelled with pride and love as you called him your darling husband. He couldn't help but return your smile, his own face lighting up with happiness. "And I thank my lucky stars that I found you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You are the light in my life, sweetheart. The one thing that makes this godforsaken world worth living in."

"Oh John" You whispered and you slowed your movements. You cupped his face and placed one kiss on his forehead. "I wish I had more words to tell you how much I love you" then you placed another kiss on one cheek.

"How lucky I am to have found you" and then another kiss on his other cheek.

"How lucky I am to be your wife" and then finally one last kiss on the tip of his nose.

"How lucky our children will be to have you"

His heart swelled with pride and love (again) as you told him how much you loved him. He cherished these moments with you, these quiet moments of intimacy where they could simply be together without the distraction of the outside world. "I don't need any fancy words, sweetheart," he said softly. "Just knowing that you love me is enough." You leaned down and kissed John gently on the lips. You pulled back slightly and looked into his eyes. Your hand reached up and moved some loose strands of hair off his forehead.

"I love you John" you whispered as you began to move again. John felt his heart melt as you whispered those three little words. It was always like hearing them for the first time, even though he'd heard them countless times before. He loved hearing you say them, feeling the warmth behind them. "Oh fuck, sweetheart," he groaned as you started moving again, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. "That's all I fucking need."

You continued to ride John, your movements slow and sensual. You leaned forward so that you could kiss him as you moved. You loved making love to John, especially now that you were pregnant. There was something about being intimate while carrying his babies that made you feel closer to him than ever before.

John groaned as you continued to ride him, your movements slow. He loved the way you moved atop him, how you kissed him passionately between thrusts. He could feel his climax building, his body responding to yours instinctively.

"Fucking hell, love," he gasped, his hands gripping your thighs tighter. "I'm gonna... oh fuck..."

You felt John's hands tightening on your thighs, you knew his climax building and you quickened your pace slightly. You leaned forward and kissed him again as you felt your own orgasm approaching. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held on tight. "Oh God John!" you cried out as you came hard on top of him. John's climax hit him hard, his cock throbbing inside of you as he filled you with hot spurts of cum. He groaned loudly, his body shaking from the force of his orgasm as he emptied himself into you.

He felt your climax rip through you, your tight walls clenching around his still-hardening cock. He groaned in pleasure, holding onto you tightly as he continued to pump his seed deep within you. He could feel his balls tighten and churn, sending wave after wave of cum into you. "Holy fuck..." He breathed heavily, looking up at you with a satisfied grin. You placed your hands John's chest, panting heavily. You were still trembling slightly from your orgasm. You ran your fingers through his hair and kissed him gently on the lips.

He let out a soft sigh as your fingers traced through his hair, the gentle touch sending shivers down his spine. He returned the kiss, his lips pressing against yours in a passionate embrace. "That was... fuck, love," he said breathlessly, pulling back to look at you. "You're amazing."

"You're not too bad yourself" you replied with a laugh. Then you leaned down and kissed him again. This time you kissed his neck and then you kissed your way down to his collarbone. You then worked your way back up to his lips again. "I do love you. My wonderful husband" You whispered as you kissed him again. He chuckled softly as you teased him, complimenting him back. He loved the way you would always find ways to make him feel special, even after all these years together. "You know what they say about great minds, sweetheart," he joked, returning your kiss with enthusiasm. "They think alike."

"But seriously," he added, his voice growing serious. "I love you too, my beautiful wife. And I can't wait to start our family." You got off John and laid next to him, you kissed the side of his neck and then you laid your head on his chest. You listened to his heartbeat and you closed your eyes. You felt content and happy. "I can't wait either" you whispered as you nuzzled into his chest "Only 6 months to go." John laid there quietly, listening to your soft whispers and the steady rhythm of your breathing. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he stroked your hair gently. "Just six more months," he repeated softly, echoing your words. "Then we'll finally get to meet our little ones."

You felt John get up and out of bed, "Where are you going?" You asked, your eyebrows slightly furrowing as you watched him put his boxers back on. John kissed your forehead with a small chuckle, "I'm looking after my darling wife and running her a well needed bath." He smiled warmly as he spoke, his hand gently caressing your cheek. The thought of taking care of you, of providing comfort and relaxation, brought a sense of satisfaction to him. "Besides," he added playfully, "I wouldn't mind seeing my gorgeous wife soaking in bubbles."

With a final kiss to your forehead, John left their bedroom and headed towards the bathroom. As he passed by the hallway mirror, he caught sight of his reflection - an older man, but one who was clearly devoted to his wife. A smile crept onto his face as he thought about their upcoming bundle of joys.

Once in the bathroom, he turned on the taps and adjusted the temperature of the water before pouring in a generous amount of bubble bath. You sat up in bed and watched John leave the room. You looked down at your stomach and rubbed it gently and smiled as you thought about the babies growing inside of you. After a few minutes you got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. When you opened the door, you saw John filling the tub with warm water and bubbles. You smiled and walked over to him and hugged him from behind, snuggling your face into his bare back.

He turned around to face you, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close. He smiled, kissing the top of your head gently. "There's my lovely wife," he murmured, his voice low and affectionate. "Go ahead and enjoy your bath. I'll be right here if you need anything." You nodded your head and stepped away from John, you stepped into the bathtub and sank down into the warm bubbles. You sighed contently as you relaxed in the tub while John sat on the floor next to the bath tub, when he isn't at the base or deployed he's stuck to you like glue, never lets you out of his sight. Even more so now that you're pregnant.

John sat by the edge of the bathtub, watching as you sank into the bubbles. His eyes followed the curve of your body, admiring your beauty despite your casual posture. "It won't be long now," he commented casually, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. "Before we have three miniature versions of you running around." You laughed lightly as you heard him speak. You rested your head back on the edge of the tub and looked over at him, "Well hopefully they take after their father a bit more than me" you teased, winking at him.

John chuckled softly, shaking his head in mock denial. He knew that he wasn't as physically fit as he used to be, but it was flattering to hear you suggest otherwise. "Don't sell yourself short, sweetheart," he said with a playful smirk. "You've kept this old man on his toes for years."

"Oh shut up" you rolled your eyes at John's comment but couldn't help but laugh. "You're not that old." He chuckled softly, leaning back against the wall as he watched you relax in the tub. Your laughter filled the room, a sound that always managed to brighten his day. "Well, I may not be ancient yet," he quipped jokingly, "But I certainly feel it sometimes."

"You're not even 40 yet" you giggled as you flicked some water at him. You rested your head back on the edge of the tub, "Ancient my arse" you mumbled with a smile. John laughed heartily at your comment, dodging the water you flicked at him. He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours lightly. "Touché," he said with a toothy grin. "But just remember, age brings wisdom...and plenty of grey hairs."

"Mhm I like the gray hairs" you leaned over to grab his chin so you could bring his face closer to yours. "My husband is turning into a silver fox," you placed a gentle kiss on his lips "And here I was thinking you couldn't get any sexier." John's cheeks flushed slightly at your compliment, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement and something deeper. He returned your kiss, his lips lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "You're too kind, sweetheart," he murmured, pulling back to look into your eyes. "But I must admit, hearing you say things like that does make an old man feel quite flustered."

You winked at John as you moved back into the bubbles, letting them cover your chest. Your hands slid through your wet hair as you sighed contently. "I can tell you're blushing" you teased him again. He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to hide his blush. He loved these playful exchanges with you, finding them endearing and enjoyable. "I am not!" he protested good-naturedly, though the slight pink hue on his cheeks betrayed him. "Just...warm from sitting here."

"You, Johnathan Price, are an awful liar" you smirked as you closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth of the bath, "You know better than to try and lie to your wife." John groaned slightly, throwing up his hands in mock defeat. He couldn't deny the truth in your words; you had always been able to read him like an open book. "Fine, maybe I'm blushing a little," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "But only because you make me feel so...special."

You laughed softly as you felt John's hand brush against yours. You opened your eyes and looked over at him, smiling warmly. "That's because you are special" you said softly, "To me you're everything." His heart swelled at your words, his grip tightening around your hand. He brought your knuckles to his lips, planting a soft kiss on them. "And you, my dear wife," he said sincerely, "Are everything to me."

You squeezed John's hand as you felt tears welling up in your eyes. You smiled softly as you listened to John speak. You were truly blessed to have such a caring and loving man by your side, "I love you" you whispered softly. John's chest tightened at your words, his heart pounding in his chest (I don't think he can handle any more sweet words from you). He squeezed your hand gently, bringing it to his lips once more. "And I love you, sweetheart," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "More than words can ever express."

"Now will you be a dear and wash my back please" you smiled sweetly at him as you passed him a loofah and a bottle of your favourite, and expensive (John bought you 5 bottles. He doesn't care because he loves spoiling you), body wash. John nodded, taking the loofah and body wash from your hand. He poured a generous amount of the luxurious liquid onto the sponge, creating a rich lather before reaching behind you. "With pleasure," he said, his fingers gently massaging your skin as he worked the soap into your flesh.

"It's the least I can do for my beautiful wife."

You let out a soft moan as John started washing your back. His touch was gentle but firm, making sure to scrub away all the dirt and grime from the day. It felt heavenly. "Just to think. You'll be shaving my legs for me in the next couple of months" you hummed at the thought. Your belly so swollen you can't even see your feet. John chuckled softly at your remark, his fingers continuing their gentle massage. He couldn't help but marvel at the miracle of life - soon they would welcome three new members into their family. "That's right, love," he said with a hint of awe in his voice. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

You turned to face John, resting your elbows on the edge of the bathtub as you looked up at him. Your fingers traced along the lines of his face, memorizing every detail. "I can't wait to meet our babies" you said softly. His heart swelled with pride and joy (Seriously. His heart will burst) at your words, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. He gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lower lip tenderly. "I can't wait either, sweetheart," he gave you a warm smile. "You've made this old soldier very proud, sweetheart."

You kissed John's thumb as he brushed it across your lips. You then kissed his hand gently as you held it tightly in yours, you closed your eyes and sighed happily. "Keep talking like that and I'll cry" being pregnant sent your hormones crazy, making you very emotional at times. The other day you cried because you saw a Corgi. (A very happy, very loved and a very looked after corgi) John chuckled softly at your comment, squeezing your hand gently. He knew pregnancy had its ups and downs, but he also knew you were strong enough to handle anything life threw at you. "Apologies, darling," he teased. "Didn't mean to make you all sentimental."

You giggled softly as John helped you out of the bath, "don't apologize! I like seeing you being sweet and thoughtful" you said softly. "It's one of the many reasons why I fell for you." He helped you to your feet, steadying you as you stepped out of the tub. He wrapped a large towel around your body, carefully drying off each droplet of water from your skin. "And what else did you fall for?" He asked playfully, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "My charm? My wit? Or perhaps my devilishly handsome looks?"

You rolled your eyes as John teased you. You leaned in close to him, whispering in his ear "Oh John, don't flatter yourself. It was definitely your cooking" you half joked, his cooking was defiantly the one things that drew you in. John feigned a look of hurt, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Ouch, sweetheart," he said teasingly. "After all these years, I thought you finally realized it was my irresistible charm that won you over."

"But if you insist on believing it's my cooking," he added with a playful wink, "I suppose I can't argue with that." You poked John's chest lightly as you walked past him and to your bedroom. You grabbed one of John's old t-shirts and slipped it on, turning to face him. "Come to bed, old man" you called to him. With a chuckle, John followed your command, stripping off his boxers before slipping under the covers beside you. He pulled you into his arms, nuzzling into your neck affectionately. "And don't you forget it," he murmured against your skin. "Best cook in the world right here."

You giggled softly as John nuzzled into your neck. You ran your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp. It always drove him wild, "Goodnight baby" you whispered softly. John sighed contentedly at your touch, his eyes drifting shut as he snuggled closer to you. He pressed a kiss to your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "Good night, sweetheart," he murmured softly, already feeling himself drift off to sleep.

As you drifted off to sleep, John lay awake for a while longer, listening to the steady rhythm of your breathing. He traced his fingers along your arm gently, taking in the scent of your hair and savouring the moment. There was something truly magical about sharing a bed with the woman he loved, especially now that they were expecting triplets. Life didn't get any better than this, he thought to himself as he finally succumbed to sleep.

You woke up the next morning to an empty bed, John wasn't laid next to you like he always is. You slowly got out of bed and made your way downstairs to find the house was spotless, every surface gleaming and everything put away neatly. John was in the living room, reading the newspaper while sipping his tea. As soon as he heard you coming down, he folded the paper and set it aside, setting his mug down as well. "Mornin', sweetheart," he greeted you with a warm smile, getting up to give you a quick peck on the lips before heading towards the kitchen.

You returned John's greeting with a small smile, walking over to sit on the couch. You watched as John went to make breakfast, shaking your head slightly as you did so. "You're spoiling me" you called to him. John returned to the living room, a plate of toast and eggs in hand. He sat down beside you, handing you the plate before sitting back comfortably in his seat. "Can't have my pregnant wife doing all the work," he said with a gentle smirk. "Besides, it's not everyday we get to enjoy this peace and quiet."

You took the plate of food from John, smiling softly as you started to eat. You rested your hand on your stomach, thinking about the babies growing inside you. "We should look at houses today." He nodded in agreement, finishing off his own breakfast before putting his empty plate on the coffee table. He turned to face you, resting a hand on your thigh comfortingly. "I've been looking at some places online," he admitted. "But nothing really caught my eye... yet."

You finished your breakfast, rubbing your belly gently as you thought about the babies. You smiled softly as you looked at John, "I'm thinking somewhere in the countryside, with a big garden. Maybe a field. Could even get some chickens." John chuckled softly at your idea, picturing their little family running around in a big garden with a bunch of chickens. "That does sound nice, sweetheart," he agreed. "And maybe we could even get a dog... or two."

"And a nice big house. Do what we want with it" you laughed softly as you imagined having a farmyard. You stood up stretching your arms above your head, yawning softly. "Build anything we want for the kids, like a slide, mini zip line attached to a tree house" John listened attentively to your ideas, nodding along in agreement. The thought of building such things for their children filled him with excitement and joy. "That sounds absolutely perfect, sweetheart," he said warmly. "A proper home for our little ones..." He paused for a moment, gazing at you lovingly before adding, "and a place where we can grow old together."

You blushed slightly as you saw the love in John's eyes. You stood there for a moment, watching as John got up and stretched too. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close for a soft kiss. John melted into the kiss, returning it with equal parts passion and tenderness. His hands moved to rest on your hips, holding you tightly against him. When they broke apart, both of them were panting slightly, but there was no denying the love and desire in each other's eyes. "You keep kissing me like that, sweetheart," he said with a low growl, "and we might end up forgetting about house hunting altogether."

You giggled softly as you felt John's hands on your hips. You kissed his cheek softly, pressing your body against his "That sounds like a very tempting offer, but I think we need to go house hunting first. Then we can come home and do what we please." You gave him one lass kiss on his chin before walking back upstairs to changed into some clothes for the day. Even though your words were teasing, John couldn't help but feel excited by the promise behind them. He watched you walk away, admiring the sway of your hips and the curve of your ass.

You walked upstairs, humming softly as you went into the bedroom. You was looking through your wardrobe for some clothes when you suddenly felt warm. Too warm. You felt faint and dizzy. You took a deep breath and sat on your bed. "Fucking hell" you mumbled before running to the bathroom to throw up. Hearing your curse, John immediately came running after you. Seeing you throwing up, he knelt down beside you, stroking your back soothingly as you purged your system. "Oh sweetheart," he murmured, sounding concerned. "Do you need anything?"

You shook your head as you leaned away from the toilet, "I'm alright." Seeing the worry etched in Johns face you brought your hand up to cup his cheek. "I'm alright John. I promise, just a bit of morning sickness. That's all." John helped you onto your feet before you went to brush your teeth. He let out a relieved sigh upon hearing your assurance. Still, he couldn't help but worry a little, especially since you were carrying their triplets.

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" he asked, placing a hand on your belly protectively. "If you need to rest, then we can postpone house hunting for another day." His voice was filled with concern and love, wanting nothing more than to ensure your wellbeing and that of their unborn children. You brushed your teeth, rinsing your mouth out before spitting into the sink. You wiped your mouth on a towel before turning to face him, "John. Stop fretting, I'm okay." You smiled softly before you went back to the bedroom to change.

Sensing that you didn't want to be fussed over, John reluctantly stopped hovering. However, his protective instincts kicked in hard when it came to you, so he made sure to sit on the edge of the bed, keeping a watchful eye on you as you changed into a sundress. "You've got that look, John." You didn't even need to glance at him to sense the anxiety etched upon his visage.

With effortless grace, you moved towards him, nestling between his thighs. Your gentle hands cupped his cheeks, tilting his head upward. Silence fell between you, yet the unspoken words resonated through your souls.

Your gaze roamed his features, each one a masterpiece in itself. His cerulean eyes held the depth and mystery of the ocean, their surface shimmering under the ambient light. A single freckle graced his nose, a charming reminder of his endearing imperfections.

And his lips—oh, those lips! They whispered sweet nothings in the darkness, painting vivid dreams upon the whispers of the night. As you gazed upon his face, you felt an overwhelming sense of admiration and love that eclipsed all else.

At your touch, John felt himself melt. Your fingers were always magic, able to soothe away the worries that plagued him like ghosts. When you tilted his head back, exposing his throat, he couldn't resist a small shiver. Butchered as he was by war, you had pieced him back together, making him whole again. And right now, he was basking in your warmth, letting your touch do its healing work. Your eyes held an intensity that pierced right through to his soul. "I can't help it, sweetheart," his voice rumbled with a mix of exasperation and fondness. "You know I'd do anything for you." You smile softly, leaning in to kiss him gently on the lips. "I know you would, John. But you're worrying over nothing. I'm fine. It's just morning sickness" you placed your hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat beneath your palm.

As your lips met his own, John couldn't help but feel his worries fade away. The sensation of your soft lips against his own was enough to make everything else seem insignificant. "But you're worth worrying about, sweetheart," he murmured, nuzzling into your neck. "I can't help but worry when it comes to you and our babies." You run your fingers through his hair, smiling softly as you lean in to kiss him once more, "One of the many reasons I love about you. One of the many reason why I said yes when you asked me to marry you." You pulled away from John and admired him one more time.

He couldn't help but lean into your touch. He loved the way you made him feel, adored the way you looked at him as if he were the most precious thing in your world. "And one of the many reasons I worship the ground you walk on, sweetheart," he replied, his voice filled with affection and devotion. "You're my everything. My rock, my lover, my best friend..."

He paused for a moment, taking your hand in his and pressing it to his chest. "My wife..."

Your eyes sparkled with love and happiness as you listened to John. You leaned down and kissed him again, this time not holding back. Your tongue slipped past his lips, exploring his mouth hungrily. After pulling away, you rested your forehead against his, panting slightly. Your body tingled with anticipation, craving for more. Your hands started to roam over his body, tracing the contours of his muscles, making him shudder with pleasure. "You’re such a good man, John. So caring, so loving..." You murmured, biting your lip as you watched his reactions to your touches. Feeling your tongue slide past his lips, John couldn't help but respond in kind. Their tongues danced together, a slow and sensual tango that left them both breathless.

When they finally broke apart, John could see the desire in your eyes. It mirrored his own, burning bright and hot. His hands found their way to your hips, holding you close as you explored his body. "And you're my everything, sweetheart," he murmured back, his voice husky with desire. "The woman who stole my heart and made me the happiest man alive."

Your hands continued to explore his body, sliding up to caress his chest. You bit your lip, watching him closely as you spoke "We should go house hunting soon... " You giggled softly, resting your head on his shoulder. Hearing you giggle sent a thrill down his spine. He loved hearing that sound, "We will, sweetheart," John assured you, his voice dropping lower as he watched you bite your lip. He loved watching you, seeing the desire in your eyes and the way your body reacted to his touch. His hands slid down to rest on your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he pulled you onto his lap. He groaned softly, feeling his cock twitch at the contact.

Softly, you gasp as John's hand reaches out to squeeze your ass, the electricity of his touch igniting your body. Your hips grind against his, the wetness between your legs seeping through your panties and his pants.

"John," you murmur, your voice a ragged whisper. "We need to...to..."

The words die in your throat as John's tongue invades your mouth, silencing any coherent thought. His breath is hot against your skin, his hands roaming your body, igniting a fire that consumes you. You're helpless in his embrace, addicted to the rush of his touch, the taste of his kiss. The house hunting you had planned becomes an afterthought, lost in the haze of desire that envelops you. Feeling you squirm against him only fuelled his desire. His hands roamed over your body, exploring each curve and valley until he reached your ass, squeezing it firmly.

"Oh, sweetheart" John murmured against your lips before trailing kisses down your neck. "We definitely need to..." His voice trailed off as he lifted you up, placing you on the dressing table near their bed. He quickly undid his pants, freeing his hard cock before pushing your dress up around your waist. "Just let me take care of that need for you," he murmured, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your belly. Gasping as John presses a soft kiss to your belly, your back arches, pressing your stomach further into his lips. Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the greying strands as you moan softly.

Your body trembles with need, every nerve ending on fire. Your pussy throbs, desperate for attention. Your nipples are hard points under your bra, begging for attention. "Please, John," you beg, biting your lip as you watch him approach your pussy. The sight of his thick cock makes your mouth water, but right now, all you want is his tongue. Feeling your fingers tangle in his hair, John couldn't help but let out a low growl of desire. Your pleas only served to stoke the flames within him, driving him wild with lust.

With a swift move, he knelt before you, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushed them wider apart. His fingers hooked into the elastic of your panties, pulling them aside. His gaze lingered on your pussy, drinking in the sight of your wet folds before lowering his head. His tongue darted out, licking along your slit teasingly before delving deeper. He groaned in delight as the taste of you filled his senses, sending waves of pleasure coursing through him. A loud moan ripped from your throat as John's tongue lapped at your folds. Your hips bucked upward, seeking more of that delicious sensation. But then he pulls away, leaving you panting and needy. Your nails dig into his scalp, urging him to continue. "Don't stop," you begged, your voice hoarse with desire. "Please don't fucking stop."

Hearing your plea, John couldn't help but smile against your pussy. He loved hearing you beg for him. He obliged, resuming his ministrations with renewed vigour. His tongue delved deeper into your folds, swirling around your clit before dipping inside you. He groaned in pleasure, feeling your walls clench around nothing as he fucked you with his tongue. His hands moved up to grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he devoured you. He was determined to make sure you came hard, screaming his name as you did.

Feeling your walls clench around nothing, John couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. He loved making you feel good, loved seeing you lose control. He continued to lick at you, his tongue delving deep inside you as he felt you start to quake. He knew you were close, so he doubled his efforts, sucking on your clit as he thrust two fingers into your tight cunt. "Come for me, sweetheart," he murmured against your cunt, his voice muffled by your folds. He wanted to hear you scream his name, wanted to taste you as you came.

A sharp cry tore from your throat as John's tongue thrust deep inside you. Your whole body shook, pleasure rippling through your veins like wildfire. Your pussy clenched tight around his probing tongue. His name was a mantra on your lips, a prayer and a curse rolled into one. Over and over again, you screamed it as waves of orgasm crashed over you. Your juices gushed forth, soaking his face and staining his shirt. Feeling your walls clamp down on his tongue, John sucked in a breath through his nose, savouring the taste of you. He loved tasting you, loved the way your body quivered beneath his touch.

He slowly withdrew his fingers and tongue, cleaning himself off with his tongue before sitting back on his heels. His eyes were dark with lust as he looked up at you. He could see the flush on your cheeks, the way your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. "You're such a fucking goddess," he said, his voice rough with desire. He stood up, towering over you as he gripped your chin gently, forcing you to look up at him.

Panting heavily, you could do nothing but nod in agreement. You were still trembling, your legs weak as a noodle. But even though you were shaking, there was a satisfied smirk on your face. You moaned softly as John gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. There was something about being held captive by those blue eyes of his that made you melt. You loved it, loved everything about this man. As he towered over you, looking down at you with that hungry expression, you found yourself reaching out to pull him closer. You needed more, needed him to fill you completely. Watching you reach out for him, John couldn't resist. He closed the gap between them in a heartbeat, his hands moving to cup your face as he leaned down to capture your lips with his own. His kiss was possessive, demanding, but also gentle. It was a mix of love and hunger.

As you kissed, John reached down to position his cock at your entrance. Without breaking the kiss, he pushed inside you, groaning into your mouth as he felt your walls stretch to accommodate him. Moaning into John's kiss, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him. Your tongue dances with his, lost in the intoxicating flavour that is uniquely John. The feeling of his cock filling you sends shivers down your spine. You gasp against his lips as he pushes deeper, stretching you wide. You can feel every inch of him, filling you completely. Your hips begin to rock against his, grinding down onto his length as you try to take more of him inside. Your body moves instinctively, seeking that sweet spot deep within you that only he can hit just right.

Feeling your hips grind against his, John couldn't hold back any longer. He began to thrust into you, setting a slow and deliberate pace. Every stroke was designed to hit that sweet spot deep inside you, making you moan and squirm underneath him. One hand left your face to grip her thigh, lifting it high over his hip as he pounded into you. The angle change had him hitting that spot even better, and soon he was groaning as well. His thrusts became harder, faster, as he chased his own release. His other hand left your face to wander lower, to tease at your swollen clit. He knew you were sensitive after your orgasm, but he also knew you liked it rough. So he teased you mercilessly, pinching and flicking until you were whimpering beneath him.

When his hand lifted your leg higher, you let out a strangled cry. The new angle had him hitting that sweet spot perfectly, and you could do nothing but beg for more. "Fuck... oh fuck, John!" You cried out, your voice raw and desperate. You his your face into his neck as you placed on hand on the dressing table underneath you to keep you up right.

Feeling your nails dig into his back, John couldn't help but grunt in satisfaction. He quickened his pace, thrusting into you with all the strength in his powerful body. His balls tightened as he felt his climax approaching, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer. He groaned out your name, his voice hoarse with desire. He was close, so very close, and he knew he'd find his release soon. Feeling John's thrusts become more forceful, you can barely form words. All you can do is arch your back and scream his name. Your pussy clenches tightly around his cock, trying to milk him for his release.

"Oh God, John! I'm gonna... ah! I'm gonna cum again!" You cried out, your voice shaky and filled with desperation. You could feel another orgasm building, stronger than the last one. Hearing your cries and feeling your pussy clench around his cock, John knew he wasn't going to last much longer. His thrusts became erratic as he chased his own release, pounding into you with abandon. But then you cried out that you were going to cum again, and that was all it took. With a roar of your name, he came hard inside you. His seed spilled deep within you, filling you up as he rode out his orgasm.

As he slowed down, he moved his hand away from your clit and instead wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He pressed his forehead against your as he panted for breath, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. Gasping for air, you collapse against John, your body limp and sated. You can feel his hot cum spilling inside you, filling you up. Your heart pounds in your chest, your body still trembling from the intense orgasm. As you catch your breath, you lean into John, pressing soft kisses along his jawline.

"I love you," you whisper against his skin, your voice soft and tender. You know that no matter what happens, you'll always have this - your love for each other. John gently pulled you closer to him, nuzzling his nose against your before planting a soft kiss on your lips. "I love you too, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and husky. His fingers traced small circles on your back as he held you close. Leaning into John's touch, you let out a content sigh. Feeling his fingers tracing small circles on your back, you relax further into his embrace. "We should probably clean up," you murmur, kissing his chin softly. You let out a little sigh as you feel his cock twitch inside you. "And go house hunting" you chuckled, you knew this would happen, not that you cared, you and John were addicted to each other.

Nodding slightly, John gave a soft hum of agreement. But there was no way he was moving from you yet. Not while he could still feel your warmth surrounding him, not when your thighs were spread apart like some kind of offering. His fingers kept tracing those lazy circles on your back as he watched you, drinking in every detail of your flushed face, every bit of your exposed skin. And then he caught himself looking at your stomach, where three tiny lives were growing. "Yeah, we should definitely get cleaned up," he agreed, though his tone didn't sound very convinced about it. Sat on the dressing table with John, you smiled as you looked up at him. There was something incredibly sexy about seeing him all sweaty and panting after just making love to you. You reached up and stroked his cheek, letting your fingers trace down his bearded jawline.

"You're such a mess," you said playfully, smirking at him. You knew that if you didn't get him to move soon, he would throw you onto the bed. John grunted softly as your fingers traced over his beard, sending shivers down his spine. He was indeed a mess, but he didn't care. He was happy, satisfied, and in love. And right now, he didn't want to move. He gave you a smirk in return, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. He leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips to tangle with yours. "But I'm a mess because of you," he growled against your lips, pulling away only when he needed to breathe. His hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you in place.

Caught off guard by John's sudden advance, you gasped into the kiss. His tongue slipped past your lips easily, causing you to moan into his mouth. Your arms snaked around his neck as you pulled yourself closer to him. Pulling away from the kiss, you stared up at John, your grey eyes darkening with desire. You licked your lips subconsciously, tasting him even after the kiss has ended. "You better be," you replied, smirking at him once again. You knew that he would never change, that he would always be the same old John who was crazy about you.

John grinned at your response, his eyes darkening with lust. He loved how you teased him, how you pushed him until he was on the edge of control. It was part of what made their relationship so damn perfect. His grip on your hips tightened slightly, almost possessively. He loved that you were his, completely and utterly his. "And I wouldn't have it any other way," he growled, his voice rough with desire. His hands slid down to cup your ass, squeezing it firmly through the fabric of your dress. "Fuck it," he muttered under his breath, his hands leaving your ass abruptly. Before you could protest or react, he picked you up effortlessly and gently tossed you onto the bed, following you down with a growl of pure need.

With a squeal, you found yourself falling backwards onto the bed. The impact caused you to bounce slightly, your breasts jiggling enticingly underneath your dress. Looking up, you saw John looming over you, his eyes filled with raw desire. "Johnathan Price" you laughed and he pinned you on the bed, "no, we're looking for a house today and that's final."

Hearing your words, John let out a frustrated groan. But he knew you were right. They did need to find a new house, one big enough for their growing family. However, that didn't stop him from wanting you, needing you. His body craved yours, desired you. And right now, he didn't give a damn about anything else except for you. "Fine, fine," he grumbled, rolling off you and lying next to you on the bed instead. He sighed deeply, running a hand through his messy hair. "But don't think this means you've won," he added, giving you a pointed look. His hand moved lower, reaching under your dress to cup your thigh, squeezing it lightly.

Rolling onto your side to face John, you placed a finger on his lips silencing him. You knew that he would keep arguing with you and you weren't going to let that happen. "Don't argue with me mister" you raised an eyebrow with a smirk. He grunted softly, feeling your finger press against his lips. But he couldn't help but chuckle, the sound rumbling deep within his chest. Despite his gruff exterior, he loved these moments - the ones where they bickered like an old married couple. It was proof that they belonged together, that they fit perfectly.

But despite everything, he couldn't resist pressing his lips against your finger, sucking it into his mouth. His tongue swiped across the pad of your finger before releasing it slowly. "Don't tell me what to do, sweetheart," he said with a smirk, even as he kept his hand under your dress. His thumb began rubbing slow, gentle circles on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You gently wrapped your hand around his throat, just below his jaw and leaned in so your breath was hot on his face, "you may be the Captain of the Task Force but I am your wife." You licked his lips and pulled away with a smirk, you gently grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from your thigh.

Feeling your hand wrap around his throat, John allowed a low growl to escape his lips. You had no idea how much that turned him on, how much he loved the thought of you marking him, claiming him as yours. When you pulled away, he opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off when you removed his hand from under your dress. A frown formed on his face, but it quickly turned into a smirk when he saw the playful glint in your eyes. "Oh, is that so?" he asked, leaning in close to your ear. His voice was low, husky with desire. He nibbled on your earlobe gently before pulling back. "Well then, Mrs. Price," he murmured, trailing kisses down her neck towards her collarbone, "I suppose I should remind you who's the boss in our bedroom."

"Johnathan Price, stop it"

Your breath hitched as he nipped at your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. When his lips trailed down your neck, you bit your lip, trying not to moan out loud. Goddamn, why does he have to know exactly what buttons to push? He heard your sharp intake of breath, felt the shiver that ran down your spine. The sight of you biting your lip, trying to hold back those moans, only served to fuel his own desires. It was clear that you were enjoying this, even if you were trying to act all tough. Ignoring your protests, he continued his trail of kisses down your neck, stopping just above the swell of your breasts. His hand came up, fingers tracing the curve of your breast through the thin material of your dress.

"I can't seem to help myself, love," he murmured huskily. "I'm addicted to you."

You whimpered, feeling his lips on your neck and his fingers trace along your breast. Your nipples were hard already, poking through your bra and dress. God, you wanted him so badly right now. He was your addiction too, you couldn't stay away from him either. "John..." You whispered his name, your voice barely above a whisper. "If we don't go now..... We'll never find a house." Feeling your nipple harden beneath his touch, John couldn't resist teasing it further. His fingers circled around the stiff peak, pressing just enough to elicit a gasp or a moan from you. He loved hearing your sounds, loved knowing that he could make you feel good.

His other hand snaked its way between your thighs, his fingers finding your wetness through the fabric of your panties. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he felt how soaked you were. Damn, you were ready for him. "You're absolutely right," he agreed, even though there was a clear note of reluctance in his voice. "We should probably get moving." Despite saying that, he didn't move away. Instead, he pushed himself up on his arms, hovering over you. His blue eyes locked onto yours, full of lust and love.

As he hovered over you, your hands reached up, gripping his hips tightly. You needed something to hold onto because goddamn, he was making you lose focus. Every single time he touched you, you lost control. "Fuck, John." You muttered under your breath, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. Your nails dug slightly into his flesh as you tried to regain some sort of control over yourself.

But it was hopeless. As soon as he started moving again, you'd be putty in his hands. Or rather, you'd be melting underneath him. Feeling your nails dig into his skin, John let out a low groan. The sensation sent a jolt straight to his cock, which was already throbbing painfully against your thigh. "But fuck, sweetheart," he replied, his voice thick with desire. "You make it so damn hard to think straight." He moved away from you, standing up fully. But instead of heading for the door, he took a moment to strip off his shirt, revealing his well-muscled torso. Then, he turned around, giving you a perfect view of his ass encased in tight fatigues as he found a clean shirt to wear.

Watching him take off his shirt, you swallowed hard. God, he looked so fucking sexy. And the way he moved... it was like watching a predator move. Powerful, confident, and deadly. When he turned around, showing off his firm ass, you couldn't help but lick your lips. You wanted nothing more than to bite down on that perfect roundness. To leave marks on him that would show everyone who he belong too. But you knew better than to do that. Because once you start, you wouldn't stop until he was completely marked up. So instead, you settled for ogling him as he searched for another shirt. Feeling your eyes on him, John couldn't help but flex his muscles a little more. He loved the way you watched him, the hunger in your eyes. It made him feel powerful, desirable.

He found a clean shirt and slipped it on. The fabric clung to his muscles perfectly, highlighting them even more. Then, he turned around, giving you another perfect view of his body. His cock strained against the confines of his pants, clearly outlined by the fabric.

"Keep looking at me like that, sweetheart," he warned. "And I might just forget about finding us a house."

With that, he started walking towards the door. But he paused for a moment, turning around to give you one last look. His blue eyes were dark with desire, and they held a silent promise. You licked your lips again, your eyes following him as he walked to the door. The sight of his cock straining against his pants made your mouth water. You wanted to taste him, to feel him inside of you. When he turned around to look at you one last time, you almost melted on the spot. That silent promise echoed in your mind, and you knew that tonight, you'd be getting everything you wanted. So you stood up and went to the bathroom to quickly freshen up (And clean the mess between your thighs John made earlier) before meeting him at the front door.

The sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the countryside as you and John pulled up to the final house on the list. You had spent the entire afternoon going from one house to another, but none of them had felt like home. This one looked promising from the outside, but you couldn't shake the feeling that it was just another disappointment waiting to happen. You stepped out of the car and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety in your stomach. John squeezed your hand reassuringly and you walked towards the front door. The estate agent greeted you with a warm smile and led you inside.

The house was spacious and well-lit, but it lacked the charm and character you were hoping for. The rooms were too formal and the layout didn't feel right for a family. You could imagine your children running through the halls, but it just didn't feel like home. As they walked through the empty rooms, John could see the disappointment in your eyes. He could understand why this place wasn't feeling right for you. It was too big, too cold, lacking the warmth only a home could provide. It was clear you weren't happy here, and that broke his heart.

When they finally exited the house, John could see the relief in your eyes. You were disappointed, but you also seemed hopeful. There was still hope that they would find a place they both liked. He squeezed your hand gently, offering you support.

"We'll find a place, sweetheart," he assured you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "It's just a matter of time."

With that, he opened the car door for her, letting her slide into the passenger seat. Once you were seated in the car, you looked over at John. His reassurances always managed to lift your spirits, no matter how gloomy things seemed. You smiled softly at him, your eyes filled with gratitude.

"Thank you, John," you said quietly, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "For everything."

Your fingers intertwined with his, and you held on tight. They may not have found a home yet, but you knew they would. Together, they would build a life, a home, a future. Feeling you squeeze his hand, John gave you a small smile. It was moments like these that reminded him of what truly mattered in life - not the houses or the money, but the people. You were worth more than any house or mansion ever could be.

"You're welcome, sweetheart," he replied, his voice soft but filled with love. "I'm just glad I can be there for you." He waited until you were buckled up before starting the engine. The drive back home was quiet, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was peaceful, actually. The silence between them was comfortable, soothing even. It was a rare moment of tranquillity in their chaotic lives.

As John pulled into the driveway, you glanced at your phone. A text from Gaz, your friend, popped up. 'How's house hunting going, lovebirds?'

You let out a sigh. 'Not great. Nothing feels like home.'

You typed back your reply, 'None of the homes we've seen feel right.'

Moments later, Gaz's response lit up your screen. 'I may have found a home. Here's the address.'

Confusion washed over you. "Gaz found a house?" You told John, handing him your phone.

Seeing the message from Gaz, John raised an eyebrow. The man never failed to surprise him. He took the phone and read the message, a smirk forming on his face. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered under his breath. He handed the phone back to you. "Looks like Gaz has something up his sleeve." Even though he trusted Gaz, the fact that the man hadn't mentioned anything about a house earlier was a bit concerning. But then again, Gaz had a habit of keeping secrets. Sometimes it was because he was being secretive, other times it was simply because he forgot to mention things. Still, if Gaz thought it was worth checking out, then maybe there was something to it after all. After all, Gaz had a knack for finding hidden gems.

You arrived at the charming countryside abode, where Gaz greeted you with a warm smile. "My friend's selling this gem," he said. "You've got the first peek."

As you stepped inside, your heart skipped a beat. It was a picture of blissful perfection. Rolling hills stretched beyond the lush field, ideal for chickens and even a few cows. A thriving allotment overflowed with fresh produce. The backyard was a veritable playground, begging for a treehouse, a zip line and what ever else John decides to build. You couldn't help but imagine your future children scampering about, their laughter echoing through the serene countryside.

But the house itself took your breath away. From the cosy living room to the spacious bedrooms, every detail exuded comfort and charm. You couldn't believe your luck. It was everything you had ever dreamed of—a place to raise a family, to create a lifetime of memories. The moment he stepped foot inside, John felt an overwhelming sense of calm wash over him. This place...it just felt right. As if it was meant to be their home. He noticed the way your eyes lit up as you explored each room. Your excitement was contagious, making him grin widely. It was hard to deny that this was indeed a perfect spot for raising kids.

"Damn, Gaz..." he muttered appreciatively, giving him a firm slap on the back. "This is fucking perfect." And just like that, he knew this was it. This was their home. No matter how many places they'd seen today, nothing compared to this quaint little cottage nestled in the middle of nowhere. Your eyes shone with unshed tears of joy as you turned around to look at John. Seeing his approval made your heart swell with happiness. "It's perfect, isn't it?" You asked, your voice filled with awe and wonder. "Like it was waiting for us."

You ran over to John and threw yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly. His strong arms wrapped around you protectively, holding you close against his chest. You could hear the steady thumping of his heartbeat underneath your ear, and it soothed you like nothing else. "I love it, John." Your voice was barely above a whisper, but the emotion behind those words was palpable. Holding you close, John felt a surge of emotions welling up within him. This was it. This was their new beginning, their forever. And damn, did it make him proud.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a kiss onto the top of your head. "It's absolutely perfect." His hands roamed over your body, squeezing gently before letting you go. He needed both hands free to properly appreciate the beauty of the house. "And I love it too, sweetheart," he assured you, his voice filled with warmth and affection. You turned to Gaz and brought him for a big hug, "Thank you so much Gaz. "Watching you thank Gaz, John couldn't help but feel a pang of admiration for the man. He might act like a dick sometimes, but deep down, Gaz was one of the best friends anyone could ask for.

"That's my boy," he grumbled, clapping Gaz on the shoulder before turning back to you. "Don't know why you're thanking him though. We're the ones who are getting the house." Despite his teasing tone, there was genuine gratitude in his eyes. Gaz had done good. Real good. "But yeah, thanks mate," he added, slinging an arm around your waist as he led you towards the front door. "For finding this place and all."

With that, he opened the door and ushered you outside, ready to start planning their new life together.

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ms0milk · 1 year

Text

dog tired and destined to drown

shinsou hitoshi x (fem)reader

cw MDNI, established fwb, thoroughly whipped shinsou, reader is exhausted and in need of some assistance. pent up tears, not quite dacryphilia, fingering + oral (reader receiving), soft dom!shinsou, praise + reassurance, "my girl," and "pretty girl" used throughout. not sure how to tag -> "reader bursts into tears and gives shinsou a heart attack." two dopes lie to themselves about having casual feelings. 3.7k

He doesn’t stumble so much as melt into the dorms, after wrapping up a midnight patrol that’s made him contemplate eating his hero license. It’s fucking finals season.

Shinsou drags himself through the second round of glass safety doors and into the common room, empty, save for you. Hunched over a splay of books and colored pens on the round center table. Your head perks up at his entrance. His fingers tighten around the strap of his bag.

You’re sitting sleepy and so goddamned pretty in your favorite sweater and the ridiculous headband you never remember to take off after washing your face, a pretzel in your chair. One knee up (a round red imprint of it on your cheek) and both arms laden with paperwork too complicated for a sidekick. Shinsou imagines dropping his equipment on the common room floor and filling his hands with you. Kissing your forehead and stumbling stupidly off to bed hand in hand.

He doesn’t do any of that but does smile the way you both know is always only for you and rumbles with a quirk-worn voice, “Why are you awake?”

Nonchalance is attempted but as always it comes out cloying.

When Shinsou approaches your sticky note-highlighter-spiral bound workbench, you still haven’t answered the question and he notes that your dark circles might be competing with his.

“Hitoshi,” you sag– and the exhaustion is so unlike you it's worrying– and crawl out of your seat, abandoning both slippers, to meet him. Before you can thud against his chest, Shinsou catches you with a palm to the forehead and drops his bag to the floor.

“Hey– Y/n?”

If you weren’t dead on your feet you might’ve clicked both heels at the sound of your first name tumbling, finally so comfortably, from Shinsou’s lips. It took you getting knocked unconscious on a mission two months ago for him to even dare speak the word and while today was significantly less life threatening, it didn’t feel much better. As it stands, an IV drip might even do you some good.

“Bad day?”

Instead of answering, you slip your face from the worried hero’s hold and bury it into the shoulder of his sweatshirt.

You agreed, you both agreed to keep your arrangement a secret from your friends. You both agreed it was just casual, a way to let out stress in the unrelenting chaos of third-year sidekick work. Nothing special, zero stakes. Although casual certainly does not mean crumbling into your fuckbuddy’s chest after a horrible day and you feel ridiculous before any words even manage to leave your mouth.

Shinsou practices saying your name, testing it over tongue and tooth under his breath, everyday, all day long. He considers inflection and emphasis, your foreign accent, and the way his own accent might fuck up the beautiful shapes. He’s a civilian in love, he doesn’t think you’re ridiculous.

“Are you hurt?” He rumbles, uninterested in who might walk into the common room and catch you both like this. You shake your head, the last shake landing your face against the warm skin of his neck to nuzzle the pulse there, irregular, and take in the smell of his post-patrol shower. He holds back chills when you exhale against him.

He tries again, “Then what’s wrong?” and pushes your thick headband back far enough to pull it from your hair. He smooths down the frizz he caused with two big hands along the sides of your head, keeping up the slow and heavy strokes long after he’s tamed your flyaways. “Y/n?”

“Civilian got hurt on patrol today.”

You don’t need to explain. Hero work doesn’t always feel triumphant.

“And I bombed my practice exam, and, and I just can’t fucking focus.”

Shinsou, worn-out in his own ways, wilts as he realizes how much deeper your exhaustion is than a failed test or injured civilian. It's been weeks for both of you, of mismatched patrol schedules and shitty sidekick busywork. Agencies across town, overnight shifts, and class in the morning. Worse than all that, your shoulders start to tremble from where he’s tucked you inside of him.

“Are they safe? The civilian.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, mostly muffled by his own collar, “just a short hospital stay.”

“Have you eaten?”

“Itsuka made dinner.”

“Is that a yes?”

You clutch at the sides of his jacket and nod again, punctuated by more chills and he simultaneously can’t watch and (more importantly) cannot stand just letting you cry silently against his shoulder. Shinsou brings his hands from your hair to your cheeks and pulls your face up to look at him from where you’ve hidden it.

No tears drip from your lashes. You just stare through him, more exhausted than anyone he’s ever seen save for Aizawa or a trip to any mirror. The usually aggressive twinkle in your eyes has dulled and suffice it to stay, Shinsou’s heart breaks a little bit more. You’re so pretty so close to him even under unflattering dorm lighting and the gutwrenching bite of your lip, holding back everything he’s sure overwhelms you inside.

He brushes both thumbs under your eyes and hopes that the very not-casual and actually quite unrelenting love that threatens to spill from him like honey, doesn’t seep into your skin from his touch and give him away.

“I’ll help you with work in the morning, think you should call it a night.”

For a second you continue to look at, through, and over him and then you lean forward for a kiss.

It’s warm and minty and Shinsou’s endlessly embarrassed by how easy it would be for your lips to kill him, but you’re needier than you should be considering the burden of your dark circles. He struggles to lean away and succumbs to the hungry tilt of your chin and the cloy of your tongue three more times before managing a staccato, “I don’t think–”

“I can’t sleep,” you breathe. You’ve dipped back far enough to speak and Shinsou knows he shouldn’t, but he cups your jaw– cradles your neck in either hand and sinks forward to press your lips together again. He’s so, so tired, and his head bobs lazily, but you cling to his sleeve and tuck your nose under his to follow where his mouth guides you.

In just a few seconds the pair of you are lost, Shinsou with his forehead pressed to yours and you with the unshakable urge to strip off his stupid jacket. Any classmate studying late or in need of a midnight snack might not have the strength to do anything but crawl back up the staircase at the sight of you.

You lean away earnestly this time and press your thumb into his swollen lip. It slides easily over saliva your tongue left behind and the hero watches every flicker of your eyes so sincerely it makes your ears hot.

“m sorry your day was so terrible.”

“Honestly, I’m so tired I can’t even cry. Toshi I’m–” This close, your eyes can’t focus well enough to see each other clearly but you still get butterflies under his gaze, “Can you help me fall asleep tonight?”

He slips his palms back up to your cheeks and tilts your head slowly, side to side to study you. In a bustling school morning or family dinner with class 3-B, Shinsou treats you as he would any other teammate. No touching save for a spar, no gifts or surprises, and certainly no sweet words. He does watch you though, from his desk beside yours. And says yes too quickly when you ask for help. He smiles every time he sees you, just slightly, and no one, none of your classmates and least of all you, has the heart to point it out in case he stops self-consciously.

Privacy is what makes Shinsou so touchy and if you could have seen the glaze over his eyes from this close, you would know there isn’t a thought in his head except for you.

He takes his time quietly tracing your jaw with his fingers and tucking your hair behind your ears. You know he’s worried about you, and you can feel in the lightness of his touch the way he’s sorting out how to tell you that you’re just gonna have to go to bed. For your health and safety and all those sappy things.

But Shinsou just watches you quietly for a few more seconds. He drinks in the sight of you after so many days apart and whispers, “Yes. Yeah, okay.” Processing your request in real time. He blinks back down to you, “My room?”

Practiced hands remember every cleft of your body even in dim lamplight. Shinsou’s chest is bare, warm– hot even and soft when you steady yourself against it. He’s real, there’s give in his skin when you squeeze him and a heartbeat in every vein under your fingers. You’re on your knees straddling his lap in an equally warm bed and trying your hardest not to make a single sound.

“Can I take this off?” He murmurs through hair in his spot behind your ear. Shinsou bites kisses up your shoulder while one hand flits at the clasp of your bra. Patient, steady. The other presses up each dip of your spine in the chill left behind by your long abandoned sweater. You nod. A flick, then two and your own chest is finally bare against his, nipples pert and pressed from how close Shinsou holds you.

It’s agonizing how gentle he is.

“You’re warm,” he whispers as you pull away to cup his face and roll your clothed hips over his own.

“Use me hero, I'm yours tonight just–”

He silences you in dim light with a kiss, more of a touch of lips, and leans his forehead against yours, “Slow down.”

He can’t trick you though, your words always send him to the brink. The tent of his briefs is a bulge between your legs now, easy to slide against and hot enough to warm you through your underwear. Faces pressed close Shinsou kisses you again, resting one hand on your ass and drawing the other up your back so lightly it sends chills feathering out in every direction.

“Not treating you rough when you’re so tired,” he breathes, “‘s not safe.”

You consider headbutting him and decide against it, opting instead to pull his lips back to you with your teeth. You’re allowed a few rough kisses before Shinsou presses one of his hands flat to your stomach with fingertips so cold that your gasp breaks the seal between you.

He hums as your body trembles, cursing and shivering all while the sleepy hero takes his time warming himself up against you, in the dips of your cleavage and thighs. Shinsou, as always, wants to eat you alive.

“You work so hard Y/n, it’s my turn. My turn to make you feel good, yeah?” He drags a knuckle down your stomach, further and further until he grazes a spot too sensitive for you to keep still. Cute, he agonizes when you buck against his fingers and he smiles into your cheek when he finds the pooled wet waiting for him through your underwear.

Nodding wildly, you catch his lips again and grind your hips deeper into his, only relenting when Shinsou slips his hand under your waistband and truly gives you what you want. You gasp with his feathertouch at that sensitive bud, just the circle of two fingers before he presses deeper into your folds.

As your body pours into his too gentle touches Shinsou keeps you close, “C’mon, tell me.” A heavy hand slides up your spine, one notch at a time until his palm cradles the back of your neck. He’s wrapped around you, he’s supporting you at every angle and it’s allconsuming.

Shinsou doesn’t ask, he instructs; he doesn’t want to hurt you. The days he uses his quirk on you are rare and no matter how hot you’re convinced it is or how much effort you put into begging, he still makes you explain to him, with every detail you can imagine, what you want. You’re in love with him. You hope he can’t tell.

“Tell me.”

“You Toshi– inside of me, please, can’t wait–”

You must be blind if you can’t see how quickly he gives you everything you ask for.

With you straddling his lap, Shinsou presses two fingers at your quivering entrance and sinks, knuckles deep, finally inside of you.

It’s the deepest, hungriest ache. The hero’s digits drag wet with the slightest hint of a curve. Smooth and steady, Shinsou begins to pump his wrist, keeping those fingers you know so well hooked against the spot that fills your head with static.

You think you’ve said something– made some kind of sound in your haze because Shinsou’s chest rumbles with laughter as you melt so pretty for him. Finally unable to form a single exhausted thought.

“My sweet girl.”

Wet drips from his wrist and pools in his palm as he holds you steady over his thighs, rolling and suckling and pulling the fear and the fight from your body with his thick fingers. It’s all a dream. Spreading you open and kissing you better– his dream. He draws you tight against him with a hand at the back of your neck as he fucks you gentle, pressing your cheek to his shoulder and smiling when your fingers shake and tremble at his biceps, failing to clutch any part of him. There’s nothing but the sound of your gasping breaths, a hiccup and shaking whimper, but still he knows you’re sensitive tonight.

“Still with me?” He cooes with a voice rasped from patrol work, and when you whine, press a palm flat to his chest for some semblance of response he leans forward to tip you over his knees and flat onto the bed.

You gasp and he thinks you’re going to ask him why, but he can only look at you like this– laid out bare, warm exhaustion and half lidded eyes begging up at him– before pressing forward to kiss you. As you reach up to run fingers through his hair, he rocks his messy fingers against the ache inside of you he knows so well, huge flat palm hooking you there and grinding circles over your clit.

It’s too much and not enough, Shinsou Hitoshi. Don’t get closer, don’t read my mind.

God, tongues folding, teeth clicking, Shinsou always falls apart when you kiss him. Dies a little in fact. He wants to taste more of you before he goes, before you kill him.

“Toshi, don’t–” you choke when the hero pulls away but as he slips farther between your legs, you have to bite your own hand to keep from making any sound someone might hear. Shinsou, with a cheek at your thigh, licks a fat wet strip from the dripping hole his fingers never stop pumping, all the way to a tiny aching bundle of livewires.

“Don’t what?” He breathes into you, freezing every movement. But you can only manage, – don’t stop– from between your fingers before he melts and starts back up again.

It’s a gentle lap first, kitten kisses meant to taste the wettest parts of you, before he hooks his free hand around your thigh and presses heavy under your stomach. The happy dull warmth of his working fingers becomes lighting again as he fucks into the pressure and your hands fly to his hair.

It’s not even a noise you make so much as a broken song. Ragged shallow breaths to stay quiet. Even with your thighs quivering tight against his ears, Shinsou hears your lopsided gasps and knows he should remind you to breathe– but when his fingers pull gently back on the hood of your pulsing bud he can’t do anything but cling to you. Jaw rolling, tongue lapping like a starving man.

You can’t help it. Shinsou hums with joy and tears flood your eyes immediately. Pleasure and exhaustion are going to tip you over the edge too quickly– embarrassingly, flatteringly, fast. Your heart is a comet filled with too many things. It’s impossible to stay still. You press the balls of your feet to his wide shoulders and try not to buck so hard, grinding your hips into the hero that won’t let you go.

Wet rolls down your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose when you tilt your head to muffle the cries that come with a shudder. He can taste how close you are; he’s almost drowning in it. He won’t change a thing. Shinso’s bicep flexes with every curl of his fingers inside of you and he moans with his mouth full, growling subconsciously, at the friction between his clothed cock and the lip of the mattress where he’s sunk inside of you hundreds of times.

“H-Hitoshi–”

Your chest shudders and heaves and there’s no stopping it. You want to hear him say your name, praise you, pretty girl, but if his tongue stopped now you might burst into tears. You’re halfway there already.

One more hum from him and your weary composure snaps. Heat burst from your chest and melts fuzzy into your fingers, broken vowels off your lips try to form the shapes of his name as you tumble from consciousness and into panting lilting whimpers. He lets you. Usually he’ll kiss you quiet or cover your mouth with his too-big hands and smile as your fucked-out saliva drips between his fingers. Today he only holds you tighter.

Hero work, homework, hospital stays, fear and isolation, love– blurr together in your tears as Shinsou works you down from your high. His grip gives way to something softer like a cradle, and he slowly rises to all fours so he can kiss a sticky path up your stomach.

It’s unspoken but expected, the few minutes you get when one of you is too sensitive, where you’re allowed to pretend you’re in love. This is the best part. Stroking his jaw, kissing his cheeks, twirling his curls with your finger. Laughing about the state of the bed, falling deadly silent and giggling into each other's eyes when footsteps creak past the door. Stopping just short of I love yous. Not today.

Today you don’t want him to look at you.

“Y/n,” He whispers into your breast when he kisses the valley there, half distracted by his own exhaustion and the fluttering of your pulse under his fingers, “Y/n?”

You’ve brought both arms up to cover your face but no one would be stupid enough to mistake your shudders for pleasure.

Shinsou’s heart plummets, “What’s wrong?” You’re laid out beneath him still catching your breath but the tremble of your lips isn’t fooling him. No more questions, he demands it now just to be safe, “Let me see.”

You’re in no mood to fight, You’re in no state to work, or think, or be in love with him, and when you lower your arms, fat tears roll wellwetted tracks down your cheeks. Shinsou pounces. He’s quick to sit you up but slower to touch you. What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Why wouldn’t you say anything? “Y/n–”

“Felt so good Toshi,” you stutter and after a night of trying to be so quiet you finally let a sob take you. Blood returns to Shinsou’s body and the adrenaline melts into his sheets. He reaches forward to cup your teary cheek with wet fingers as you blubber and whimper and try to curl back in on yourself, not paying much mind to the cum still sticky in his palm.

“Pretty girl,” he smiles wry.

Shinsou tugs your waist gently to guide you into his arms and it doesn’t take much strength. You melt into him.

“so tired, Toshi–”

“I know baby”

“– hands felt so good– I’m– I–” you can’t quite finish the thought as another bout of tears takes over and both you and your hero smile against each other. You, albeit fitfully. You love him. He loves you more. There’s too much to be filled with at all times, and sometimes when you start to cry you just keep finding reasons not to stop.

You want to keep him forever. Only yours, not a national hero, not a symbol of peace, not even the fucking class president. Graduation is coming too quickly– the day you have to wish him luck as a hero and not a sidekick makes you sick. The thought of him getting hurt–

“You’re thinking too hard, ‘can feel it,” he rumbles, “Thought you were tired?” He wants you to know and hopes you can’t tell, that he can only hear his smile when he talks to you, “Or d'you need me to make you cum again?”

For some reason this makes you moan with heartbreak and Shinsou’s hands shoot up– his eyes go wide with worry, before you groan, “..there’s cum on my face,” and the sobbing starts earnestly again.

The hero’s head falls back in laughter, no longer afraid of disturbing the dorms as you let yourself go against him. Let them find you, let them find him perfectly happy. His sticky fingers draw adoring circles up and down your back.

“m sorry pretty girl,”

“should be,” you cry and whimper and laugh along with him.

How long were you holding it in? How much longer can he?

Shinsou leans back on his hips a bit to rock you gently through your trembling. He knows how much you like his hand on the back of your neck and so he uses his other to pull the blankets up over your shoulders. Warm and rhythmic and perfectly dark in your little piece of the world tonight.

At the edge of tearful sleep his voice rumbles through his chest where your cheek is pressed so soundly, “Can I clean you up?”

You nod, breath coming a bit easier now.

#a gentle dom to eat me out until i cry PUH LEASE #shinsou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #shinso x reader

493 notes · View notes

wyvernest · 1 year

Note

Miguel vs very angry reader? Miguel is usually the one who is grumpy and broody but for a change has to deal with his usually cheery lover being unbelievably Moody and angry!

lo siento, mi alma

pairing: miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader

warnings: angst, comfort, fluff, happy ending, miguel kinda being a dick

summary: coming to miguel for comfort leads to a fight, his duty coming right between you

Usually, you would feel so happy and excited about visiting Miguel at HQ. You'd find yourself smiling so stupidly on the way there, surprised with your reflection in a nearby skyscraper, instantly reminded that you're so in love with him.

But today wasn't one of those days.

Today, your monthly hormonal storm has decided to mess with your mood and patience in a way you weren't looking forward to. Usually, you'd feel more clingy and emotional, yearning to be close to your boyfriend, to be held by him, to cry in his arms because you were out of your favourite snacks.

But then again, today remains odd among the usual habits.

Today, you felt anger boil in your throat, ready to burst at the slightest inconvenience. And plenty have already tested it. Miles scared the crap out of you by swinging an inch from hitting you, right before scurrying away with an echoed "Hello!" that rang so stridently in your ears. Peter also intercepted your wish-to-be-hidden trip to HQ, unsolicitedly informing you about the last thing Mayday ate, how cute she looked, and how she's been learning to use her webs with more agility. You held back your bubbling nerves, deep down knowing he only meant well.

Finally inside Miguel's extensive laboratories, you look up to spot the platform he usually inhabited empty.

Great. Fucking hell.

And because expecting something good to happen and then having it snatched from you like a chocolate from a toddler makes you unfathomably angry, you feel hot tears sting your eyes.

You had wanted the comfort of his embrace so bad. It was the only thing that could've soothed your mood. So you found a flat surface to sit on and wait, probably one of the many machines and equipment he spent his whole time creating and testing instead of giving you the attention and love you craved so much, you thought.

It wasn't long before a long, sharp, red blade cut through the fabric of space, followed by the familiar silhouette of your beloved boyfriend. His mask dissolved away, revealing a terribly tired face, hair messed up and cheekbone slightly mauve with a forming bruise.

He sensed you in the room, not bothering to offer you anything more than a turn of his head in your direction to meet your eyes before sprinting to his platform. Layla also glitched into the room, relaxed as usual.

You squint, making out "canon divergence RESOLVED" on one of his screens, some hope blooming in your heart at the thought that maybe now he'd have time for you. But before you can inhale to speak, he opens up another portal.

You can't believe it. He didn't even speak to you, like you aren't his heart and soul, as he had told you so many times.

So you snap.

"Miguel!" You shout, quick and harsh, wanting him to feel a fraction of the frustration that's gutting you right now.

He doesn't flinch.

"I'm busy. Wait for me at home." He speaks with authority and the confidence of a man who knows it wouldn't take much to make you listen to him.

You feel your pulse quicken, heart stuttering with anger and bewilderment.

"That's how much my emotions matter to you?" You shout up to him after a second of weighing his words. "That's the support and consideration I get?" Your voice cracks and you hate that he now knows how affected you are.

"I'm not even a fucking priority at this point. I'm at the bottom of the list."

"I can't deal with this right now. I still have the damage the last anomaly has done to deal with." He raises his voice at you, the words vibrating through the laboratory.

"So I'm on hold until Miguel O'Hara is fucking available? Will you also notify me so that I can present myself back to HQ, sir?" Your tone is dripping venom, sarcasm and sour tears threatening to burst into streams down your cheeks. You do, consider, in the back of your mind, that you're exaggerating. But the way he dismissed you is not an easy thing to get over. No greetings, no emotion, no nothing.

Just "I'm busy.".

No excitement to see you after a mission.

How are you any different than any other spider-person bothering him then? Where is the love he has for you when he's working?

He grinds his jaws together, not wanting to say something he doesn't mean, that he'll regret later. He knows you're particularly sensitive today, but he can't allow himself to soften right in the middle of a job. It's not how he works. He gets distracted.

"I said go home, cariño." He doesn't even face you as he speaks, as if you're a child throwing a tantrum.

You feel small. Irrelevant. He isn't even touched.

"Oh I will." You yell through a sob, your pain arrowing right through his chest.

"Only not to your home."

You storm out without looking behind. Your ego soared and anger kept rising to your senses.

You knew you wouldn't break up, or even move out. You just wanted him to feel something.

You wanted to see him want you. To see him make the slightest gesture towards wanting to keep you by his side.

But the doors closed shut behind you, and you found yourself walking slower, just to give him some time to run after you.

He didn't.

You did your best to hide your teary eyes and runny nose, not wanting to deal with any unwanted attention, any questions, anyone knowing that you and Miguel just had a fight.

You didn't want anyone else's attention but his, and it killed you to acknowledge that.

You got home, finally breaking into tears. You let yourself fall face down into his pillow, still seeking the comfort he never gave you. The smell of him, the imagined, simulated warmth of his embrace.

He had a duty, you know he did. You just wanted to be more than a chore to him. You wondered if this relationship really was for you, head spiralling into the hormones, stress, and wrath.

You, a needy, extremely loving girlfriend, with a man like him, with a full time job that entire universes depended on. You loved him, you really did. But you loved yourself too.

The train of thought drifted towards sympathy as the flames of rage ran cold within you. Maybe you were too hard on him. Maybe he really did have urgent things to tend to, and was just trying to keep cool. He hasn't always been the best at showing emotions.

You whine softly into the pillow, the scent of him flooding your already fluttering heart.

You don't know how much time has passed. You felt your tears dry on your cheeks and your eyes puffy. A creak of the bedroom door makes your heart beat right out of your chest, yet you attempt to stay calm. Heavy footsteps near you, before you see his shadow engulf your shape on the white mattress.

He hesitates, looking at your quivering body, knowing he should haven't arrived earlier.

If only he could.

Your brows shoot up in surprise at the sight of a bouquet of roses he places on the bed next to you, but you don't get to think of what to say as he kneels at the edge, encircling your waist in his arms, placing his head on your shoulder, close to your own.

"Lo siento mucho, mi alma. Forgive me."

You snivel, humming a fragment of his name. He shuffles closer, seeing no retreat from you. He brings his lips to your stained cheeks, pecking over the salty traces.

You instinctively shift into his warm embrace, chasing the comfort and touch you had wanted all day.

"I'm sorry," you begin, "I shouldn't have-"

"Shh, no need" he stops you, pressing a sweet kiss shy of your lips. "No need, mi vida."

His arms tighten their hold around you as he pulls you to his chest. You grab at his biceps, pulling him on the bed.

"The roses-" He whispers, hurriedly.

"Miguel!" You whine, entrapping his waist with your legs. He complies without another word; suit on, flowers still on the white sheets. With his massive body wrapped around you, finally content, you drift into a sweet slumber.

"Lo siento."

His voice rings low and quiet in your ears as you fall asleep, head on his chest.

translations: Lo siento mucho, mi alma - I'm terribly sorry, (my soul)

a/n: before yall beat my ass for the angst this is the best depiction of miguel x reader x anger issues from both that came to my mind, really hope you like it😭

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #miguel o'hara smut

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utronabalcone · 3 months

Text

walking on glass, december 12, 2006 by the fader.

computer love

the intimate punk pulse of crystal castles.

crystal castles makes electronic music that sounds like dial-up modems making out—a drunk and exuberant boy/girl scrape at 2400 bps. songs stomp ahead with teenage determination, alice’s breathless, blushing shrieks bursting claudio’s turbografx keyboard swells. their music feels sweaty, but in a good way—like a palm after it lets go of the trackball.

“i found a keyboard in the garbage next to my building,” says claudio, the group’s defacto producer.

“i tried getting it to work, but it wouldn’t. a week before, though, i had found an atari 5200. so i ripped the soundchip out of that thing and put it in the keyboard, and i started being able to control the sounds.” he gave a dozen or so makeshift beats to alice, a local toronto girl he knew only by virtue of a friend’s crush. months later, when they finally got together in the studio, the keyboard broke, the mic was scratchy, and things were so fucked that the recording (which has since become their signature song), “alice practice,” was actually just that: alice singing for the first time over a beat, testing levels and dealing with busted equipment. frustrated—or maybe just indifferent—the two stopped talking to each other. six months passed before claudio listened to the disc again, and created a myspace account (the name crystal castles was a spur-of-the-moment tribute to she-ra’s homestead) to upload the songs. two hundred thousand plays and one year later, labels started calling, forcing claudio to reconnect with a stunned alice. “she was like, ‘we were testing the fucking mic! what were you fucking thinking about!’” their glitches have found kindred spirits in buzzy “new rave” uk bands like the klaxons, whose teeth-grinder “atlantis to interzone” the castles recently remixed. touring with the band overseas, the young canadians got drunk and got noticed, with opportunities to play everywhere from the venerable bbc to brighton mp3 blog 20 jazz funk greats. even with such newfound attention, claudio and alice remain a pretty private pair, politely refusing to reveal last names—or, maybe more interestingly, ages. “i’m not old, but I’m not young,” teases claudio. “I am a decade older than alice.” he insists they aren’t involved with each other, just partners in an exercise in serendipity. “we weren’t even a band! this is just some shit we put together.”

more info on my blogspot.

#crystal castles #alice glass #ethan kath #note: claudio aka ethan #2006

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gester-tester · 1 year

Video

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wolveria · 14 days

Text

The Anomaly Archives - Reality #005

AU of The Raven's Hymn

Pairing: Male OC x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angst, whump, nightmares, hurt/comfort, age difference, smut

AO3

You balanced the cardboard cup holder on one hand as you swiped your keycard with the other. The observation room door slid open, and what followed was a confused yelp and the sound of a body hitting the floor.

Entering the room, you expertly stepped over the obstacle in your way, placing the cupholder on the desk and giving Kenneth a moment to recover his dignity.

“Still can’t sleep?” You set the two cups of coffee on the surface far away from the delicate equipment.

A groan was your answer, and Kenneth slid into the chair beside you, rubbing his shoulder with a wince. He was a mess, his copper hair coming out of the ponytail at the back of his neck, the bags under his eyes heavy and dark, and his freckled skin was paler than usual.

“Ah, thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” he said, grabbing one of the cups and then almost dropping it immediately before you could warn him it was still hot. “And no. Not yet.”

Any other day would earn a scolding for him falling asleep in the observation room. With some SCPs, you could get away with it, either because they didn’t require much attention, or they were harmless.

Your assigned charge was neither of those things. You glanced through the one-way mirror at the room beyond. Nothing had changed within it, the pedestal was clean and intact, and the porcelain mask remained inert.

Regardless, SCP-035 was not an anomaly to be taken lightly, and it was known to ensnare personnel who let their guard down, even for a moment.

You rubbed your finger against the side of your cup, waiting for it to cool.

“Maybe you should take a nap.” You tried to sound gentle, not judgmental, but you weren’t exactly practiced.

“What? N-no! It’s not safe.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Not here. Take the day off, go to your quarters and get some rest.”

“I meant, it wouldn’t be safe for you.”

You raised a brow, and his terrified deer look was replaced with a blush.

“Being here, alone. It wouldn’t be safe for anybody. I’m fine, I’m not that tired.”

It was a lie and you both knew it, but it was… kind of sweet. Even though Kenneth was freaked out by 035 far more than you were, he still got antsy whenever he found you early on a shift inside the observation room alone.

You didn’t know why it made him so anxious. 035 never did anything interesting while you were there. Of course, that was part of the danger with the mask SCP, by the time you noticed it had done anything to you, it was far too late. That’s why observation rotations with 035 were much shorter than other anomalies, and bi-weekly psychiatric evaluations were mandatory.

Kenneth was wrong, he was that tired, and he needed rest more than you needed a second person, but you didn’t argue the point. You enjoyed his company, and maybe that was selfish of you, but he was the one volunteering to stay.

Still, you were… concerned. Restless nights happened to everyone, it was the nature of the work, but Kenneth’s bout of insomnia wasn’t normal for him. And it had started as soon as you both began observation duty with 035.

As you filled out the logs and looked over the previous rotation’s reports, you planned your approach. You considered prodding about his last psych eval, but asking a coworker “hey, how crazy were you on your last test?” was considered poor form.

“You know…” you tried for the tactful approach, “if you need to pull off rotation early, no one will judge you.”

Kenneth stared as if you’d suggested he kiss 049, with tongue.

“Uh, what? Why would I do that?”

You sighed. So much for the subtle approach.

“Because you’re not sleeping, you’re not eating, and frankly, you look like shit.”

A small grin burst through his tired features, and for a moment he looked like his old self again.

“You really know how to make a guy feel special.”

“I’m serious.”

“I’ll sleep eventually,” he said, and that flippant statement did nothing to ease your worry. “I’ll stop at the med station and pick up some sleeping pills if it gets worse.”

You said nothing and sipped your coffee.

You didn’t know what woke you. Your room was perfectly dark, and when you touched the personal tablet at your bedside the time showed as just past midnight. Sleep nagged at you, but the fullness of your bladder made you get out of bed in defeat.

Once you were finished in the attached washroom, you checked your door, still locked. No one had attempted to enter your quarters, but someone might have knocked. There weren’t any messages on your tablet, but something still prickled at you.

Putting on a pair of slippers, you peeked your head outside the door to find the hall empty. Other doors lined the residential wing, all leading to their own individual quarters, the ones currently unoccupied belonging to those working the night shift.

On a whim, you left your room and headed in the direction of someone else’s quarters. After two right turns, you came to the correct hallway and rounded the corner.

You came to a stop, your slippers skidding at the lack of traction.

“Kenneth?”

His back was to you so you couldn’t see his face. Something about his posture set off warning sirens in your head, and it certainly wasn’t normal to find him in the corridor in the middle of the night wearing green plaid pajama pants and a white t-shirt.

“Kenneth?” you tried again, quieter this time. Was he sleepwalking? You drew closer, and the hairs on the back of your nape stood straight as you rounded him. His expression was vacant.

Hoping he wasn’t prone to getting violent in his sleep—he might have been lanky, but you didn’t want to test how hard he could punch—you carefully reached out, your hand hovering above his shoulder.

You set your hand down carefully on his shirt, but he didn’t blink. Frowning, you let him go and reached higher, planning a gentle jab against his cheek.

Your fingertips touched his skin. He flinched back with a scream.

“Kenneth!” you hissed through your teeth, because he was definitely awake now, staring at you with wide eyes as he sucked air into his lungs. He looked half-mad, which was exactly why you didn’t want anyone stumbling across Kenneth making a scene. Sleepwalking and screaming was a good way to get taken off rotation and dosed with amnestics.

He was lucid now, and unfortunately on the verge of hyperventilating, sweat trickling down his temples as his hollowed eyes looked even more sunken.

You grabbed his hand and dragged him down the hallway. Kenneth followed with a surprising lack of resistance, even when you pulled him into your room and locked the door behind him.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” You didn’t give him the chance to speak first, though by his dazed expression as he glanced around your room it was safe to say he wouldn’t have anything intelligible to say. “Sleepwalking? Night terrors? What else is going on with you?”

His attention snapped to your face, clear panic on his.

“N-nothing!” A pause. “I was sleepwalking?”

“I found you out in the hallway, so unless someone put you there, yes!”

You took in a deep breath and rubbed the middle point of your forehead. Yelling at him wouldn’t help, and sadly, it didn’t make you feel better.

“You have to tell someone.”

“No.”

You looked up. It was the first time he’d sounded sure about anything, and at your scrutiny, he immediately dropped his gaze.

“You know what would happen,” he said quietly.

You did, or at least, there were the rumors. And you liked Kenneth. You didn’t know if he could be considered a friend, but he was more tolerable than anyone else you worked with.

“Fine. We keep this between us. Are you good to sleep again?”

His visible relief at the first part of your statement was wiped out by the second half, and his eyes returned to their previous look of dejected terror.

“I… I can’t go back there. To my room. I just… can’t.”

“Then don’t.”

You left him at the door and took of your slippers, placing them at the foot of the bed before sitting on the mattress. He still stood there looking like a lost puppy, so you took pity on him. He was so easy to mess with it almost wasn’t fun.

“Don’t go back to your room. Sleep here.”

He made a choked noise, which you ignored as you got under the covers.

“Turn off the lights when you’re done.”

“…What?”

“I can’t sleep with them on.”

“No, I mean, you… want me to sleep here?”

“I wouldn’t have made the offer if I didn’t mean it.”

When he didn’t move or make a sound, you sighed and sat up, leaning against the headboard. He stared at you with a mixture of horror and surprise, as if you were offering to torture him instead.

“I can set my door lock so that it won’t open without my passcode, which I’ll give to you. That way, you can only open it while you’re awake. No more nocturnal-wandering the hallways, and maybe you’ll get some actual sleep so you can stop looking like death.”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I can only cover for you so long before someone figures out you’re having sleep disturbances. And… maybe not being alone will help.”

Kenneth looked a little less horrified but still just as apprehensive, though his face softened a bit.

“And you would do that? For me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Hadn’t you established that? Why did he still look so tense? He was the one who would have your private passcode to come and go as he pleased.

He chewed his bottom lip, glancing once around the room before settling on you.

“What if I wake you?”

“Then you wake me.”

“Okay, well, what if I get violent in my sleep?”

“Then I hit back.”

You smiled, just a little, and some of the tension left his posture as he sheepishly returned the gesture. He was almost cute when he didn’t look like he was on the edge of a mental breakdown. Okay, maybe even then too, but no one would drag that information out of you even if they used SCP-645.

“Okay, but…” He fidgeted. “What if someone sees me entering your room?”

“They’ll think we’re having sex.”

Kenneth’s face went so red so fast it was actually impressive, and a little concerning.

“In case you couldn’t tell, I don’t care what anyone thinks.” You shrugged. “I just care if it helps. It’s no one’s business, anyway.”

His cheeks still burned, but he stopped looking like he was going to run out the door. He chewed his lip again, a nervous habit you were beginning to notice, but there was something decisive in his face.

“If you really don’t mind…”

“I don’t.”

He blew out a breath and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’m just gonna… grab some of my stuff then. If that’s okay.”

“It’s fine.” You also gave him the passcode, and added, “You can use it to go in and out, no need to knock. I’ll probably be in bed by the time you get back.”

“Great, yeah. Okay.”

You simply watched him with raised brows as he finally shuffled out, and you smirked after he left. The poor guy was such a target, it was going to take a conscious effort not to tease him. Needlessly, anyway.

You laid down and planned to be on your way to asleep by the time he returned, figuring he’d take his time and possibly stall. But he came back surprisingly fast, only a few minutes after he walked out the door.

Your back was to him so you couldn’t see, but you could hear him move about the room, unzipping what sounded like a bag before moving quietly into the bathroom. The idea of having a temporary roommate would have been hell in nearly any other circumstance, but the idea didn’t feel terrible with Kenneth. With how timid he could be, somehow able to shrink his presence despite being so tall, it would probably feel more like sharing space with a mouse than a man.

You’d almost fallen back asleep by the time the mattress dipped behind you. For a bewildering moment, you’d forgotten Kenneth was there, wondering who the hell would be getting into bed with you.

He’d turned off the overhead light when he got situated, and the darkness of your bedroom was heavy with silence.

“Comfy?” you asked.

“Uh-huh.” He sounded stiff enough that he would snap in half. You snorted and closed your eyes.

“Night, Kenneth.”

“G… goodnight, Reid.”

By the time you woke up, Kenneth was gone. You would have suspected last night was just a weird dream and he hadn’t been there to begin with if you hadn’t spotted the bag next to the bed. Also, his side of the bed was neatly made, where you tended to just throw the covers back in place in a haphazard pile.

Finding no sign of him in the cafeteria either, you grabbed a couple of bagels and cups of coffee. You knew where he would be, and you weren’t disappointed to find him in 035’s observation room.

Or rather, you were disappointed, though you couldn’t pinpoint why.

Kenneth nearly jerked out of his seat when the door opened, and you stepped through.

“I’m cutting you off,” you said, placing the coffee and bagel next to him.

“Oh, no, please don’t.” He sounded sincerely distressed as he wrapped his fingers around the cup, savoring its warmth. “I would die.”

“Then perish.”

He snorted as you sat down beside him.

“I keep forgetting you’re an old Millennial. That meme is, like, from the last decade.”

“Call me old again and you’ll really feel the last decade.”

Kenneth laughed and then dived into his bagel. It had been a while since you’d seen him with an appetite.

You took another drink of coffee and pretended to sort through the observation logs, keeping your voice intentionally light.

“So. You sleep okay?”

He paused in his bagel chewing long enough for you to worry he was going to choke on it.

“I, uh… yeah, actually. I did.”

“Good.”

Trying not to appear too pleased, you focused on your actual work, though you found yourself distracted that day more than most. Ever since you’d noticed Kenneth’s disturbed sleep patterns, you’d kept an eye on him to the point where it became routine. Observe the SCP, observe your sleep-deprived coworker, and see which would yield the more interesting result.

You were aware enough to know that was a little weird, but it was a hard urge to fight. Kenneth was prone to being easily startled, like there was a prey animal living under his skin, and you still didn’t know how he’d managed to end up at the Foundation. It generally took a more aggressive personality to literally survive the job.

Maybe you did feel a little protective. So what?

The workdays were less awkward than you thought they would be, though the nights held their own kind of tension. Maybe Kenneth’s nervousness was rubbing off on you, but at least he seemed to be sleeping soundly. Even you slept like the dead until your alarm went off, and each time you woke to find Kenneth already gone.

The facility ran on a 24-hour schedule, with someone always on duty during night and weekend shifts. But as part of the research team, you and Kenneth had a more traditional schedule, and you were looking forward to your weekend.

And then the thought hit you. What were you going to do this weekend? Usually, you caught up on shows or devoured as much reading as you could, but with Kenneth there… Were you supposed to hang out with him? Or would he go off and entertain himself? Come to think of it, outside of your workdays, you didn’t see him much and had no idea what he did on his off time.

Your anxiety over the looming weekend kept you up Friday night, and it was why when Kenneth’s nightmare started, you were awake for it.

You sat up and stared down at him, the glow of the digital clock on your nightstand enough for you to see by. Kenneth trembled, breathing too fast, and his eyes were shut tight as if trying to block out what he saw.

“Kenneth.”

He didn’t respond.

“Kenneth,” you hissed louder. “Wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

His twitching worsened and a small whimper squeezed out of him.

Shit. You scooted closer, one hand hovering over him.

“If you hit me, I swear to God, you’ll be doing the coffee runs for the rest of your life.”

He was insensate to your threats, so you lowered your hand and very carefully placed it on the side of his neck. You remembered how touching him over his shirt hadn’t done anything, but skin contact had.

The trembling immediately stopped. He still had his eyes wrenched closed and he was breathing too fast, but at least he was no longer shaking.

Another scared noise left him, and you let out your own defeated breath. This was either going to go extremely poorly and you’d be embarrassed, or it would help, and you’d still be embarrassed.

Moving your hand to his shoulder, you gently rolled him toward you on his side. He moved easily with your effort; surprising, because you thought he would fight it. You scooted a little bit closer and higher up on your pillow, making it easier to slot you together.

All you’d wanted to do was move him close enough that you could wrap an arm around him and ease the nightmares. But as soon as your chests touched, Kenneth wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, buried his face in your neck, and held you tight. You couldn’t move.

Fuck.

You didn’t move, eyes wide in the dark as he held you like his own personal teddy bear. It took every brain cell you had just to keep breathing normally and not whack him off of you.

It was startling, and weird, and he was way too close, but it was also kind of… nice. Warm. He was surprisingly soft for being all arms and legs.

His hold on you was also one you couldn’t wiggle out of, so you didn’t try to escape. You were tired, and he wasn’t making any more sad puppy dog noises, so you took the victory. And tried not to think about how you were going to explain this in the morning.

When you woke up, your first thought was one of vague confusion. Even before you opened your eyes you knew Kenneth was there. It was the first morning he hadn’t vanished before you woke up, and you knew that, because he still had a hold around your waist.

He was also rigid, like someone had the muzzle of a gun shoved into his back.

Ignoring his terror, you stretched a tiny bit, enough to ease your muscles but not dislodge him, and then relaxed against the pillow. You even propped your chin on top of his head.

“Uh,” he said. Okay, maybe you were enjoying his torment a little too much.

“Morning,” you mumbled, your eyelids heavy with sleep as you were tempted to slip back into a doze.

“You’re… awake.”

“Mmhmm.”

“You’re… uh…”

He floundered, uneven to even begin to address the strange situation. You sighed through your nose.

“You had a nightmare. I tried to move you closer. You turned into a Velcro monkey.”

The noise he made was an impressive mixture of choked horror and surprised snort.

“What time is it?” you asked.

“It’s, uh…” He leaned up to look past you. “Half past seven.”

“Mmm. Go back to sleep.”

“Go back to… sleep…”

“It’s too early.”

His baffled silence stretched on and on.

“What?” you finally asked.

“You…” He audibly swallowed. “Don’t mind… this?”

“No. Do you?”

Okay, this was a little too relaxed, even for you, but you wanted to go back to sleep and Kenneth was unfairly warm.

“I… n-no. No, I don’t mind.”

The noise you made was unconvinced, but he didn’t move away so that was something. But he was still so damn stiff.

After a few moments of restless silence, he said, “But this is weird, right?”

“You’re makingit weird.”

He laughed, and you didn’t know if it was from your response or how cranky it sounded.

“Sorry, sorry.”

And then he pulled in close, tucking his face close to your neck, and—oh, that was nice. You closed your eyes again, and if your arm tightened around his shoulder, well, you were both too polite to say.

He had another nightmare the following night.

You don’t know why this one caught you off-guard. Maybe because the weekend had been going surprisingly well. It turned out you both were reclusive introverts, not wanting to go out when you could simply stay in. It wasn’t much different than your usual weekend, except this time when you started up a movie, you had someone to watch it with.

You were growing more comfortable around Kenneth, which was perhaps why when he woke you up with his violent shaking and startled cries, you didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm over his torso and lean your head on his chest.

Like the first time, the shaking immediately stopped. His heart raced fast against your ear, and you listened as it gradually slowed into a calmer rhythm, and the regular pattern lulled you back to sleep.

And for a second time in a row, when you woke up, Kenneth was still there. He was awake and awkwardly stiff, but when you stretched and stayed where you were, bidding him good morning, he relaxed. A little. His heart still tamped out a fast beat against your ear, and you wondered if he’d had another nightmare.

The nightmares, which had been practically absent for the first few days, erupted with a kind of vindictive violence, as if angered they weren’t allowed to play out. It was becoming so routine that you barely woke, only enough to roll over and set your head on his chest, or when he was turned away from you, wrap your arm around his waist and lean against his back.

You’d rather have teeth pulled than admit you liked when you got to do that. He was like your own personal heater, and maybe it was your imagination, but he seemed to relax in proportion to how much physical contact you had.

And then of course, you’d wake up in the morning and Kenneth would still be there, frozen like a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf. You would almost think he dreaded waking up like that from how he acted, but the times you pulled away first, you could have sworn he moved toward you.

Most likely, he just missed the warmth. The damn facility was kept cold, even the living quarters, and you hadn’t realized how uncomfortable it was until there was someone else’s body heat to chase away the chill.

Unspoken but somehow agreed upon, you both started preemptively subverting the nightmares ahead of time. You wouldn’t call it cuddling, it was more of… close proximity sleeping that might involve a limb or two being fastened to the other person.

It was strategic. Anticipatory. Definitely nothing to get excited over.

Until one night you woke up, startled and breathing too far, the lingering horror of hands holding you and pulling you under so real you could still feel it. And then you realized you could feel a pair of arms around you.

You tensed, about to throw your elbow backwards, but Kenneth’s voice stopped you.

“You were having a nightmare. So I…”

Ah. You relaxed, though your heart still thudded too fast and refused to slow down.

“Was it…”

He trailed off, and you encouraged him with a noise. You didn’t trust yourself to speak yet.

“Was it about any particular SCP?”

You shook your head, forgetting he couldn’t see it in the dark.

“Nothing that specific. Just a sort of… vague dread. Like something has me trapped and I can’t escape.”

He hummed in understanding. There was something that everyone experienced at one time or another. An oppressive, horrific knowledge that Foundation staff rarely ever reached retirement age. At least, not with their body and mind intact.

You didn’t look into these nightmares any deeper than that, and by the time the morning came around, you were too focused on actual horrors to worry about imaginary ones.

“What do you dream about?”

He went stiff at your sudden question, and you didn’t expect a response, so you were surprised when you got one.

“…035.”

You could have guessed that, but the confirmation caused your chest to ache.

Kenneth started to move away, but you grabbed his hand and moved it back around your waist. He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. He understood. It was unspoken.

The next time you woke up, you didn’t move, too comfortable with Kenneth’s weight against your back and his arm heavy around you.

It was… different from when you held him. When you did it, it was comfortable and soothing, like hugging a giant stuffed animal that sometimes moved and snored a little. But when he held you like this, curled around you like he was trying to meld you together, it was distracting. A restlessness took hold of your body, your skin felt too hot, and it was difficult to remain still.

Which was why you failed at it, shifting in place as if that could make you more comfortable. It was a mistake. Your hips moved back too far, and something hard pressed against your ass. Kenneth let out a quiet breath, but he otherwise didn’t move, still asleep.

Now you understood why he froze whenever you embraced him like this. You couldn’t move, your muscles locked into place. You should leave, get out of bed and let him sleep and stay ignorant to this embarrassment. He didn’t mean it, anyway. It was a natural response, and he wasn’t even conscious.

But you didn’t move. Your heart raced, and you listened to the even pace of his breathing with barely a breath of your own.

And then his hips shifted again, pressed harder against your ass, and you forgot how to breathe. Kenneth nosed against your hair as if to get more comfortable, but then he went very, very still.

By how carefully you weren’t moving, he knew you were awake. He tried to back away, and like the night before, you grabbed onto his hand. He froze.

Delicately, as if you were defusing a bomb, you pulled his hand back and placed it over your stomach. He didn’t resist, but he didn’t ease up from his anxious tension either.

This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. He was your coworker, maybe even your friend. You were taking advantage. It wasn’t right.

You took his hand and slipped it under your shirt, sliding upward until you pressed his hand against your breast.

He sucked in a breath, a small tremble racking through him, and then his thumb grazed over your nipple, hard and sensitive. He groaned and molded himself against your back, his face pressed into the crook of your neck.

Encouraged, you arched your back, and he didn’t hesitate to grind against your ass. His response surprised you, enthusiastic where you thought he was going to run away. You would have let him, even knowing you had just ruined your friendship and working relationship, but that hadn’t happened. You let go of his hand, and he kept it right where you left it, his fingers toying with your nipple.

You ached. Days of tension building inside you that you couldn’t ignore or make go away, even in the shower with your hand between your legs.

You rolled onto your back, and with a light tug you guided him to lay on top of you, hardly having to pull at all. He eased himself between your legs, but he moved his hand to hold your waist, as if nervous to touch you without your direct intervention.

The overhead lights were dim and pale, simulating the early sunlight, and you could make out his features. Color suffused high on his cheekbones, his long red hair messy, and his eyes were dark in what could easily be arousal or fear. Perhaps a mixture of both, knowing him.

Kenneth had moments where he was kind of cute. Adorable, even. And there were moments, rarely glimpsed when he let himself be vulnerable, where he was pretty. Unfairly pretty.

And there were moments where you would look over and see him chatting to other facility members. Researchers, security personnel, janitorial staff, it didn’t seem to matter, he would talk to anyone. His eyes would light up, his actions animated, and he was pretty. A stab of jealousy would shoot through you at whoever was being given that warm, sunny attention, until you turned away and went somewhere else.

That same possessive need, the feelings you were so careful to bury deep where it couldn’t find nourishment and take root, clawed its way to the surface and growled its demands.

You cradled the back of his head, weaving your fingers into his hair, and pulled him down.

You kissed him, lips meeting in a heated hunger from your side, and a surprised stiffness from his. You let him pull away, reining in your own need so you didn’t devour him. It was a close thing.

“Sorry,” you whispered, though you weren’t really. “I shouldn’t have—”

But he shook his head and didn’t retreat further, his breath trembling but his weight on you solid.

“Are you sure?” he asked, wincing, as if he was the one taking advantage. “I don’t want you to… I mean, if you’re not sure, then—”

He didn’t get out the rest of his words, either; you took his hand and slipped it under the waistband of your sleep pants and underwear, pushing his fingers between your legs. You were soaked and coated his fingers immediately.

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath, and without your prompting curled his fingers, as if seeking out your slick heat of their own volition. “I… Reid…”

You pulled him down and kissed him again, and his hesitation melted away along with his resistance. As his fingers prodded your entrance, you pulled off your shirt, having to break the kiss to yank it over your head.

Kenneth immediately took advantage of the new angle and buried his face in your neck, latching onto the skin as he sucked and licked. You tried to tug off your pants and underwear, but when his thumb found your clit and pressed down at the same time he slid two fingers inside, you immediately forgot what you were doing.

Kenneth didn’t, and he tugged off the rest of your clothes with one hand while the other slowly pumped in and out of you. It was tortuously gentle, and you growled and pulled off his shirt with frustrated impatience.

He smirked against your throat, the little shit, but at least you wiped it off his face when you reached under his waistband. You grabbed him, firm and tight, and he groaned as his cock involuntarily twitched in your hand.

“Pants off,” you huffed in his ear. With him lying on top of you, you couldn’t get him out past his waistband.

“No… foreplay?” His question was a breathless laugh, cut off by another groan as you squeezed.

“Later,” you said and purposefully didn’t think about the implications of a later. “I need you to fuck me, now.”

Kenneth made a choking sound, but he was quick to obey, pulling off his pj pants and boxers in a hurry.

Impatient, you wrapped your legs around his waist and tilted your hips upward, at the same time guiding his cock at your entrance. You didn’t care that his fingers were still inside you and technically in the way. He would either have to move them, or you would have to take all of it inside you, because you weren’t waiting.

“Jesus Christ, Reid.” He barely moved his fingers in time as you notched him against your entrance, and then all his protests vanished as he pushed into your tight heat.

Kenneth tried to take it slow, but you dug your heels into the backs of his thighs, and he swore again as you swallowed up every inch of him. You should have paid better attention, because you couldn’t tell if he was just thick, long, or both, because there was a lot of him.

You finally breathed when he pushed all the way inside, though it felt like you couldn’t take a full lungful.

“S-slow down,” Kenneth stuttered as you ground yourself against him. You forced yourself still for his sake, knowing if he came now he’d probably die from embarrassment.

You wouldn’t mind. His noises and reactions would be worth it, and you were confident you could get him hard again with minimal effort. With how high-strung he was, it wouldn’t take much.

Letting him take a moment, you stroked the back of his head, letting your fingertips lightly scratch against his scalp. Kenneth groaned and shuddered, and maybe it would have been nicer to leave him alone while he regained his composure, but you weren’t feeling nice.

You leaned up and nuzzled into his neck, dragging your lips against his skin until you stopped in one place and sucked, hard.

He trembled and his hips stuttered involuntarily. You smirked and made sure to suck where he couldn’t hide it underneath his shirt collar.

“Reid.”

Your name came out as a whine, pleading for mercy, so you sucked harder, making sure to squeeze his hips between your thighs.

He shuddered again and finally gave up on the idea that you’d give him a moment to breathe. His hips moved in shaky, aborted movements, as if he was trying to fight himself as well as you.

With a movement far more coordinated than you thought it would be considering how much taller he was, you rolled him onto his back and straddled his hips, making sure he was still deep inside you. The pillows had scattered, and you had him flat on his back, his eyes large and startled.

But you were almost gentle as you kissed him, though it was more of a tease, your lips dragging across his in languid taunt.

Finally, he showed some lack of restraint, forcing the kiss deeper, his hips pushing upward in frustration. Unable to wait any longer, you gave him what he wanted, rolling your hips and grinding down on him with deep, decisive friction.

Kenneth gasped for air, breaking from the kiss he started, but you couldn’t keep your mouth off him. Your lips and teeth were at his neck, alternating between brief kisses and nipping bites, and Kenneth kept repeating, “fuck, fuck,” in a breathy mantra.

You ground down harder, chasing the pleasure that was slowly uncurling deep in your abdomen, and Kenneth must have felt it because he tried to thrust upward. He couldn’t move far, but the combination of sensations kept building the high at a slow, tortuous pace.

But it did build, each thrust its own molten pleasure, as if it was one long simmering orgasm. You might have said something, a nonsensical smattering of words that might have been you telling Kenneth how good he was.

He whined at whatever it was you said, and then he gave a small, begging, “Please.”

You latched your teeth on the crook of his neck, and his startled cry pushed you over the edge. You clenched around him hard and let go of the bite, propping yourself up so you could ride him through the last spasming waves. It seemed to never end, every inch of your skin prickled with pleasure, and when you finally opened your eyes you were surprised to find Kenneth watching you, his eyes dark and teeth clenched in effort.

It was almost sweet, Kenneth holding back so your orgasm could last longer. But you didn’t want sweet, you wanted to watch as he lost control. You sat up all the way, leaned your hands against his chest, and rode him hard.

With the way he rolled and bucked under you, it really was like riding, and you held on with digging nails and clenched thighs. The sound of him fucking up into you was sloppy and obscene, and impossibly, you felt another orgasm on the horizon.

Your brain shrouded and not thinking clearly, you took one of his hands and shoved it where your hips met, but you couldn’t get the right angle. Kenneth understood what you were trying to do, and he held your hip tight as he pressed circles into your clit.

You choked down your own whine, losing your rhythm as you started to clench tight, and Kenneth’s voice was strained and hoarse.

“I’m gonna--… you gotta get off me before I—"

“No.”

You ground down on him, purposefully, intentionally.

“Come inside me.”

He cursed and fucked up into you like he was going to die if he didn’t, and you screamed through your teeth as the pleasure shot through you like a thunderbolt.

You were distantly aware of your own body after that, too lost in the deluge of sensation and heat, but you could feel the distant throbbing between your legs that wasn’t yours.

Trying to catch your breath, and suddenly too self-conscious to meet his eye, you laid on top of him and rested your cheek against his shoulder. The bite hadn’t broken skin, but you could already see the bruised indent from your teeth.

Kenneth was the one to speak first, his voice catching, and he cleared it before continuing.

“I… I shouldn’t have done that.”

Something cold and unpleasant filled your stomach, even as the rest of you was warm and relaxed.

“Which part?”

“The, uh… coming inside you.”

The cold dread thawed a little.

“I’m on birth control. It’s fine.”

“Oh, that’s… that’s good.”

“But the rest of it?”

When he didn’t answer for several seconds, you started to move away. You should have done so already, it wasn’t as if he wanted you just lying on top of him. You weren’t lovers or partners or—

You moved off of his lap, wincing as his cock slid out of you, and that’s about as far as you got. Kenneth caught your waist and pulled you back down, tucking you against his side as he turned toward you.

You didn’t mean to freeze up, awkward and unsure as he kept his arms wrapped around you.

“I should… get us something to clean up with.”

He blew air out of his mouth, like he was laughing.

“Seriously, Reid? Can you relax, for like, two seconds.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“I’m not the one who—”

His lips were on yours, stealing a kiss and your breath. You weren’t as annoyed as you could have been, but you sent him a dirty look when he broke away. He grinned like a cat who’d gotten in the milk.

“You’re not allowed to win arguments that way,” you said.

“But I would win them.”

Your gaze narrowed and his smile brightened.

Settling back against his side, you were just starting to relax when he went and ruined it.

“So… we should probably talk.”

You groaned.

“We really don’t have to.”

“Don’t we?”

You closed your eyes and considered ignoring him, but when had that ever worked.

“It’s not that complicated,” you said. “Do you want to have sex again?”

“Right-right now?!”

It was your turn to grin, though he couldn’t see it from this angle.

“Because I don’t think I could, not so soon—”

“Wanna bet?”

“Against you? Absolutely not.”

You snorted and then propped up on your elbow so you could face him.

“Do you want to keep doing this?”

Kenneth swallowed and his gaze drifted to somewhere around your shoulder.

“I mean… what is this?” He made a vague gesture at you both lying naked in your bed. “Is it just… you know. Sex?”

Now you couldn’t meet his eye, unease coiling in your gut. Not because you didn’t know what you wanted—you absolutely did. But Kenneth was younger than you. He had other options, avenues he could pursue without much effort. What you both got out of this might be very different things.

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” you finally said.

“Really? You’re leaving this up to me?”

His skepticism drew your attention and your annoyance.

“Why not.”

“Because that’s not fair. What about what you want?” He shifted, his fingers fidgeting with wrinkles on the sheet. “You’re kind of getting the raw end of the deal.”

Your glare grew sharper, and before he could back away, panic growing in his eyes, you crowded him into the mattress and kissed him.

It wasn’t a half-assed thing, either. You licked into his mouth, tasting him on your tongue until you finally let him up for air.

“Your counterargument…” He gasped for air, his face flushed. “…is persuasive.”

You smirked when something hard and familiar pressed against your hip.

“I told you I could get you hard again.”

“That’s not—”

He actually squeaked when you licked a stripe up his neck and purposefully pressed your thigh against his cock.

“W-we’re not done talking yet.”

You sighed. Of all the moments, he had to be responsible now.

“Fine.” You backed off and met his eye, probably with more glare than was warranted. “I want to keep doing this, and I’m not interested in anyone else. That cover it?”

He blinked slowly, as if his brain was catching up to the words.

“Y-yeah. That’s… yeah.”

You lifted your brows, and it took a minute for the lightbulb to turn on in his head.

“And, I mean, I want to keep doing this too, obviously. And I’m not…”

Your brows lifted higher as he progressively grew tongue-tied, until he finally flopped back on the bed and blew out a frustrated breath.

“Come on, Reid.”

“What?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“You have to know by now.”

“Know what.”

“I’ve had a crush on you since day one.”

The silence stretched on long enough for him to frown up at you.

“You… didn’t know.”

“Of course I didn’t know!”

“Really?” He said this last to himself, rubbing his chin. “Nix always said it was super obvious.”

Ah, yes. Kenneth’s strange little friend from down in anomalous body storage. They were attached at the hip most days, and you didn’t think you imagined the evil eye Nix sent you whenever you were in the same room. Then again, they looked at everyone that way.

You gave him a blank stare.

“Anyway.” Kenneth rolled onto his side so he could face you again. “I didn’t think it mattered since you didn’t seem to know I existed. The first time you said my name, I actually forgot it was my name, because there was no way you were actually talking to me—"

“Kenneth.”

“—Yeah, that’s exactly how you said it, and annoyed tone and everything—"

You shut him up with another kiss, and yeah, it turned out it was an effective way to stop an argument. You could get used to this, and something about that felt dangerous.

When you felt Kenneth had been sufficiently kissed into silence, and by his dazed expression when you broke apart, he had, you leaned back and stared at him for a moment. When you’d mentioned contraceptives, the thought had crossed your mind, and you’d almost joked, If I did get pregnant, do you think they’d give us both parental leave?

And then you realized how unfunny it was. Starting a family was one of the few ways to get out of the Foundation that didn’t involve a body bag. Sure, they’d give you so many amnestics that you’d barely remember your name, but at least you had an escape option. You both did.

But then… did you want to leave? You’d been here for years, and while the work was still satisfying, it had lost its charm. One by one, coworkers would disappear, either through transfer, or they simply… vanished.

You didn’t want that to happen to you or Kenneth, and you knew if you ever found a way out, you wouldn’t leave without taking him with you.

But then you started to think of the anomalies you would leave behind, the ones you tried to give a little extra attention and kindness to. There was 053, and she adored Kenneth. It was hard to imagine leaving her and the other humanoid SCPs.

Plus… Dr. Puli had hinted that the next subject in your rotation was the enigmatic plague doctor. You could admit there was a curiosity there that went beyond professional. Were you ready to give up the opportunity to study SCP-049 because you started having doubts?

“Hey.” Kenneth’s soft voice pulled you back to reality. “Where’d you go?”

“I’m right here.”

“You sure?” He chewed his lip again. “No… regrets?”

You squinted at him.

“I was pondering something.”

“Oh?”

“Do you think it would be workplace sexual harassment if I started calling you Horse Dick Kenny?”

He choked, sputtered, and then buried his face in your shoulder so you couldn’t see the face that you knew would be bright red.

“Don’t worry,” you said and patted his arm. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Very safe. You would jealously guard that knowledge to your grave.

“Come on.” You grabbed his head and tugged him out of bed. “We’re filthy.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Kenneth followed obediently as you led him to the shower, and you left your dark thoughts behind in the bed.

#scp foundation #scp containment breach #the anomaly archives #oc x reader #male oc x reader #kenneth the assistant

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