#sure I could step back and say no I don’t need this thing but… ;

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 24: The Last First Time

Summary: You and Simon both get what you want.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 15,019 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, p in v sex, rough sex (it's like straight animalistic y'all), grinding, mutual masturbation, fingering, slightly violent imagery, scratching, biting, hair pulling, dry humping, blood (only a little), slight BDSM vibes, licking, squirting, praise, fluids (so many fluids), choking (only for a second), Simon's oral fixation, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, slight fluff, language, Simon being Simon, excessive use of the word "fuck", it's basically porn with very little plot.

A/N: This...this thing is a beast. It beat me up and stole my lunch money. I may have been a bit ambitious with it, but I've denied the Ghosties long enough and so I'm making up for that. Anyway...this might be one of the most depraved things I've ever written (not really, but you get the point). He'd the warnings, and I don't recommend reading this in public. Or standing. Or in underwear you care about. It's a good thing today is Sunday because y'all are gonna need Jesus after this.

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*This is the gif*

Your teeth sink into your lip as you slowly draw your gaze back to his face. He’s still looking at the bear, and once again, you wish you could see his face so you could guess what was going through his head. 

“I missed you.” You say quickly, ready to explain away the shirt and why you put it on that bear specifically. “A lot.” 

His eyes turn back to you, the intensity in them almost forcing you to take a step back. Any words trying to explain your actions die on your tongue as you hold his dark gaze, your heart thumping in your chest so loud you’re surprised he can’t hear it. A quiet sound rumbles in his chest as he looks at you, his eyes darkening just slightly. He takes a step closer, your head tilting up so you can hold his gaze. 

“Then I best make up for it.” He says, his hand moving to your side. His fingers bunch the fabric of the dress at your hip, lifting the hem a couple of inches. “Yellow sundress?” He asks. 

“Johnny bought it for me.” You say, your voice wavering from the anticipation of his touch. “I-It was nice out today, so I wanted to wear it.” 

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, releasing the fabric to drag his hand up your side, stopping just under your breast. 

You want him to continue, to push his hand higher, to finally touch you. You feel electric, every nerve fiber in your body alive as you stare up at him. Yet, you can see the hesitation, the conflict in his eyes. 

“We don’t have to.” You say, leaving that option open for him. Sure, it might be a little difficult after being so worked up, but the last thing you want is to push him too far. You can always get one of the other members of your pack to help ease that ache. “You just got back. There’s...there’s no need to rush it.” 

His fingers tighten around your side for a moment before he releases you, turning his back to you. You begin to panic, wondering if you pushed too far, made too many assumptions, made him too uncomfortable as he walks to the door. You’ve done it, you’ve messed things up and now it’s all crumbling down around you. 

His hand wraps around the knob, slowly pushing the door closed until it clicks. He stands there with his back to you for a moment before he turns back around. You let out the breath you had been holding, trying to calm the panic. Of course he’d want the door closed. This is just between you and him right now. 

You hold a hand out to him, trying to fight the tremble of your fingers. Your emotions are swirling and you need his reassurance. You need his grounding presence. 

He approaches you again, each step slow and calculated as he reaches out, his fingers brushing your palm before he wraps them around your hand. You close your hand around his as best you can with how big it is. You lift your gaze to his, the temptation to fold under the intensity strong, but you refuse. You need to be strong for him, for both of you. Your gaze doesn’t leave his as you slowly turn, walking backwards towards your bed, leading him by the hand with you. 

Your gaze finally leaves his as you turn to face your bed, stopping dead in your tracks. Simon’s chest brushes your back, obviously not expecting you to stop so suddenly. Something tickles in the back of your mind as you stare at the mess that’s become of your bed. The blankets and pillows are still a bit rumpled and misplaced from your lounging earlier, but something’s wrong. Something’s off, something’s not right. 

“Wait.” You say, dropping Simon’s hand before taking the two steps to the edge of your mattress. 

You move the giant bear to the floor next to the bed before you fix the blankets, smoothing them out and making sure they’re just right. You rearrange your stuffed animals and pillows, the need for them to be perfect taking over your mind. You can’t control it, can’t stop it until everything is perfect. 

You take a step back, staring at the nest you’ve made. 

Nest. 

You’re nesting again. 

You turn to face Simon, blinking up at him as the haze clears. He’s staring at you intensely, hands curled into fists at his side. “Sorry.” You murmur, hands closing around the fabric of your dress nervously. “I-I don’t know what-” 

“Don’t.” He says, the word sharp and biting. “Stop apologizing for your instincts.” 

“Sorry.” You say again, wincing at the instinct to immediately apologize. 

He rolls his eyes, closing the distance between you. You take half a step back, your legs hitting the mattress and you’re ready to sit on it when he grabs your hand, flipping your positions so fast it nearly makes you dizzy. He seats himself on the mattress instead, staring up at you. The look in his eyes takes your breath away as he tugs you to stand between his parted thighs. 

He tugs the bottom of his mask up and you don’t even have to be told, your head immediately lowering to kiss him. You rest your hands on his broad shoulders, feeling the muscle beneath them. His hands close around the back of your thighs, calloused skin biting at the softness of your own. Goosebumps rise on your skin, covering your body from the sensation. It’s nothing new to you, but he’s new to you. You’ve never been in this position before with him, never under these circumstances. 

His kiss is searing, just as the first one had been. He kisses you like a man starved, like he wants to devour you. It’s sloppy and wet, his hands squeezing around your thighs until your lips part in a gasp, and he takes advantage of it, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You press closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands begin to crawl up the backs of your thighs, warmth blossoming in your stomach again as they slip under the hem of your dress, continuing higher and higher. 

His fingers brush the skin where your thighs and ass meet, before continuing upwards until they brush the fabric underneath your dress. He groans into your mouth, pulling away from your lips. “Turn around and show me.”  

You shiver at the growl in his voice, turning slowly between his knees until your back is to him. You slowly lift the hem of your dress until it’s bunched around your waist, the cool air in the room brushing your exposed skin. You hear the sharp inhale as he stares at you, his fingers twitching against the sides of your thighs. 

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, his hands gripping the sides of your thighs as you bend over just slightly, causing the fabric to ride up slightly higher. 

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stand there under his critical gaze. You had planned this after Johnny’s hint that you should wear the dress since the weather was going to be nice. You knew there was more to it than that, the subtle hint that Simon would enjoy seeing you in it. The panties had been a deliberate choice just on the off chance that something like this would happen. You’re glad you made that decision now, half bent over with your ass in Simon’s face, showing off the black, skull print fabric adorning your skin. 

Simon curses again, his hands gripping your waist to tug you back into his lap. Your back collides with his chest, but he offers no complaint as he wraps his arms tightly around your middle. You can feel him, the bulge in his pants as you press back against him, the knowledge that he’s turned on by just the sight of your ass in skull print panties sending heat rushing between your own thighs. 

You tilt your head to the side, meeting his lips as you press back against him, his hands hot against your stomach. You need him to lower his hand, press it between your thighs, relieve some of the ache. 

His arms release around you and you turn in his lap, straddling his thick thighs. His hands settle on your own thighs, rocking your body against the prominent bulge in his pants. You continue to kiss him, gasping into his mouth as your clothed slit drags against the rough fabric of his jeans. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers brushing the sensitive skin below his mask. You can feel the hair at the nape of his neck, the short strands prickling your fingers. 

Simon pulls away from your lips, releasing his hold on your thighs. You freeze, holding your breath as you wait for what’s going to happen next. You’re worried perhaps you went too far, or perhaps he’s having second thoughts. He drops his head to your chest, pressing his face against your clothed breasts. He holds himself there, taking a shaky breath in. 

“We don’t have to.” The words come spilling out. “We can stop any time.” You rub his upper back, trying to release some of the tension in his shoulders. 

“‘S not fair to you.” He murmurs, his breath hot through the thin fabric of the dress. 

“I’ll be fine.” You say, moving off his lap. 

He lets you, releasing his hold around you. He doesn’t lift his head, still bowed almost in shame. You sit next to him, close enough your arm is pressed against his. 

“Like I said, there’s no rush.” You say, trying to reassure him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, closing his hands into fists. There’s more emotion in his voice than you’ve ever heard before, the sound almost startling compared to the usual gruffness and bite to his words. 

“You won’t.” You shrug. “I can handle Johnny just fine, and John.” You put your hand over one of his. “I would tell you, if you hurt me, or if I got uncomfortable. I’m not as breakable as you think. You’ve thrown me around in training and I’ve been fine.” 

A low sound rumbles in his chest at your words. It sends a shiver down your spine, half of your brain telling you to run, and the other half sending heat between your thighs. He sits up straight, pulling his mask down as he turns to look at you. “Touch yourself.” 

“W-What?” You ask, taken aback.

“Touch yourself for me.” He repeats himself. 

You hesitate for half a second, before you nod. “O-Okay.” You reply, thrilled and nervous at the idea. 

You push yourself up further onto the bed as Simon adjusts himself so he’s against the headboard, lounging in your bed. You ignore the feelings rushing through you at the sight of the big alpha in your nest. It’s almost comical, seeing him in his dark clothes, an imposing figure surrounded by soft blankets and stuffed animals and colorful pillows. You lean against the footboard at the end of your bed, adjusting yourself so your thighs are spread, giving him a perfect view of your fabric covered pussy. You slip your hands under the waistband of your panties, but he stops you. 

“Leave them on.” He growls, eyes glued at the slightly darker patch of fabric between your legs. 

You slowly release your panties, tugging the hem of your dress up higher before you slip your hand into your underwear. You’re soaked, your fingers slipping along the slick skin. You stare at Simon’s face, his eyes glued to the movement of your hand under your panties as you begin to tease your clit. There’s an obvious tent in his pants, a painful looking bulge in his jeans. 

A quiet sigh leaves your lips as you circle your clit slowly, spreading your legs even further, draping one over his. His hands settle on his stomach as he watches, his breathing slow and even. 

Your breathing has picked up as you continue to tease your clit. Between the moment shared with him and the intensity of his gaze on your clothed pussy, it’s almost too much. You could cum just like this, barely touched, shivering under the gaze of your pack’s second alpha. It’s the most intimate you’ve ever been with him, and you’re not even naked. 

You slip your fingers lower, gathering slick on them before pressing two into your throbbing pussy. You moan softly at the slight stretch, your eyes focusing on his hands and where they rest on his stomach. How full you’d be on his fingers. Yours are nothing compared to his. The depths he could reach, the delicious stretch of them. You sink your teeth into your lip, biting back a moan as you begin to thrust your fingers in and out of you. 

His scent is intensifying, growing muskier in his arousal as he watches you. For once he doesn’t complain about the sweetness of your scent, the two mixing in the air, the perfect blend of alpha and omega. 

“A mixture someone could get drunk off of.” 

That’s what John had said. You want to, let it flow straight into your brain and numb your senses until there’s nothing but the two of you. Until you’re full of giddy happiness and warmth as your limbs go lax and all tension and stress leaves your body. Until you forget where you are, lost in some far away land where there’s nothing but you and the overwhelming scent of alpha, of Simon. 

A shudder wracks through your body, your scent intensifying as pleasure begins to sear through your veins. Simon’s nose twitches beneath his mask, his pupils dilating as your scent goes straight to his brain. You wonder what kind of iron grip he’s keeping on himself, how he’s managing to hold himself back. You’d jump his bones right now if he hadn’t set this boundary between you. Perhaps it’s that boundary keeping him still on the bed. There certainly wouldn’t be any complains from you if he crossed that boundary, ripped your hand from your panties and fucked you until you couldn’t move. 

“Fuck.” He growls, almost as if he could read your thoughts, as if there was some sort of telepathic link between the two of you giving him a glimpse into your mind. It would explain how in tune he is with you, how he always seems to know, how easily he can read you. 

Your movements falter as he slides his hand down his stomach, tugging at the button on his jeans. You watch, enraptured as he slips his own hand into his pants, palming at his bulge. Your mouth waters at the thought of finally seeing him, of getting a glimpse of what lies beneath. He’s big, you know he has to be. Alphas generally are, thick and long to match their build.

Your pussy clenches at the thought of the stretch, how he’ll have to open you up with his fingers first so it doesn’t hurt. He’ll take good care of you, making sure you’re nice and slick and ready for him before he sinks into you, still stretching you with his cock. 

A needy moan falls from your lips as slick gushes around your fingers, increasing the wet squelch of them with every thrust. Simon’s hand slips under his briefs, wrapping around his cock. You keep your gaze on the movement of his hand beneath the fabric as he pumps his length in time with the movements of your hand. 

Your free hand grips the sheets under you as you adjust the position of your fingers, pressing your palm against your throbbing clit. The coil in your stomach is tightening, your thighs beginning to shake as you get closer and closer to the edge. 

“Gonna cum?” He rasps, his hand pumping his cock faster as he chases his own high. “Gonna cum for me?” 

“Yes!” You gasp out, curling your fingers against that spongy spot inside you. “Yes!” 

He curses, the word a drawn out rumble in his chest as your thighs close, squeezing around your hand as you cum around your fingers. Your back arches as you nearly spasm from the pleasure, working yourself through the orgasm as he grunts in pleasure from his own approaching orgasm. 

Your body settles, still shaking slightly as you withdraw your fingers from your underwear. They’re shiny with slick and your cum and you lift them to your mouth, letting your tongue dart out to lick at your own juices. 

The sound Simon lets out is nearly animalistic, the pace of his hand frantic as his head tilts back, his hips jerking. You watch him cum, the muscles in his arms flexing as he spills into his underwear. It’s beautiful, the sight of him lost in pleasure. You wish you could see his face, see the way he looks in this moment, but you can’t. Instead you focus on the way his eyes flutter, those long blonde lashes golden in the light from your lamp. 

His breaths are heavy, chest heaving as he comes down from his own high. Your own breathing has settled as you lay there lax at the end of your bed. It’s quiet between you for a moment, his gaze locked on yours. How far things have come just from a couple weeks of distance from each other. It’s impossible not to wonder if something happened, if there was a close call that caused him to think of all the things he’d regret not doing. Or perhaps it was just the distance, the realization that holding himself back was foolish and pointless. You’d welcome him with open arms, just as you had when he walked down the ramp and onto the tarmac. 

He had been the one to make that first move, kissing you when you least expected it. What had gone through his head to cause such a reaction? Had he panicked just as much as you would have, overthinking it until he convinced himself you wouldn't want it? Did the emotions of the moment take over and he couldn’t stop himself from giving in to those desires? Or had he simply faced those fears head on and did it because he wanted to? 

He knows how you feel. The kiss in the car had confirmed that, and you inviting him into your space was the gavel strike that sealed your fates. You don’t want to turn back, you wouldn’t turn back, not after everything. 

Simon moves first, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of your bed. You desperately want to know what he’s thinking, what’s going on in his head. He doesn’t regret this decision, does he? You’ve leaped over the boundaries he’d once set, sharing such an intimate, vulnerable moment with each other. You’d let him go if he wanted to leave, no matter how desperately you’d want to cling to him and beg him to stay. 

He pushes himself up to stand, jeans still unbuttoned as he turns to face you. “Be right back.” He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your head through the mask before he heads into your bathroom, closing the door. 

You let out a quiet breath, sitting there for a moment before you get up, tugging your sundress off. It’s late, the others likely in bed already, or heading that way. You wonder if he’ll be permitted a day off tomorrow, or if he’ll even want to take one. You know how strictly he likes to keep to his schedule, even when he has to be utterly exhausted. 

You’re tempted to pull his shirt off the bear and wear it as you stand there in nothing but your panties, but you’re not sure if that will be pushing too much at once. You decide against it, instead digging out a baggy shirt from your dresser, pulling it over your head. 

You rearrange your nest as water runs in the bathroom, pushing most of the pillows and stuffed animals to the end of the bed before you turn down the blankets, climbing in. Simon’s scent wafts up around you as you lay down, unable to stop yourself as you press your face into your pillow and inhale deeply. Your tongue darts out, pressing against the fabric before you can stop it. It’s musky and slightly tangy, making your mouth water. You want to lick it from the source, wrap your teeth around Simon’s scent gland and devour him. 

Your mind is hazy as you push yourself away from the pillow, blinking away the animalistic thoughts seeping to the front of your brain as the bathroom door opens. Simon steps out, taking a couple slow steps to the middle of your room. He stands there like he’s unsure of what to do next. Should he offer to leave, or ask to join you in bed? You can see the hesitation, the conflict as he tries to decide which is okay, which one might be the best decision. 

“You could join me, if you want.” You say, giving him an offer, a chance at a decision. You wouldn’t be upset if he left, well, not entirely. He’s shown a lot of vulnerability tonight, and you wouldn’t blame him if he wanted space to think over things. You don’t want him to leave, but you’d understand if he did. 

“Is that what you want?” He asks, shifting on his feet. 

“I did offer.” You shrug. “It’s up to you. I can always cuddle the bear.” 

His gaze drops to the bear seated on the floor next to the bed, still wearing his black t-shirt. His hands curl into fists before he looks back up at you. “Move over.” 

You try to hide your grin as you press yourself back against the wall, watching as he unbuttons his jeans again. He pulls them off, folding them in half before draping them over your footboard. This is the most exposed he’s been in front of you, the most skin you’ve seen at one time. You can’t help but stare at his legs, thick thighs dusted with dark blonde hair and covered in scars. They’re not surprising to you, not after seeing the others, though he has the most by far. Small lines, pink and white speckling the skin. There’s a puckered scar on one calf, a bullet wound you now know. There’s a long, thick scar on the other thigh cutting from the side of his knee, up his thigh until it disappears under his briefs. 

You quickly avert your gaze as you realize he’s standing there, watching you. He quickly crawls under the blankets, a nervous sweat starting to form across your back. You don’t mean to make him uncomfortable, but it’s hard not to stare. You want to know, you want every story that explains every scar. You can’t even begin to imagine the horror of the big one on his leg. So far John has been the only one to tell you about all of his scars, as much as he could at least. Johnny had relayed a couple dramatic stories about his, and Kyle has told you about a couple when you’ve asked. You’re not even sure you could ask Simon, much less how you would go about it. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you’re suddenly yanked down against Simon’s chest, his arm wrapped around your back. 

“You’re thinking too much.” He says, shifting just slightly to get comfortable on the small bed. It’s a tight squeeze with the two of you, forcing you to nearly lay half on top of him. You’ve never wanted that dream of a bigger bed to be more true than in this moment. 

“Sorry.” You say, wincing at your instinct to apologize again. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“Not uncomfortable.” He says, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Just not used to it yet.” 

“Is that why you keep yourself covered as much as possible? The scars?” You ask, biting your lip as soon as the question comes out. You hadn’t meant to ask it out loud, but you can’t stop your curiosity. 

“Partly.” He says, his thumb stroking your back. “People like to stare, they like to talk.” 

“I don’t care about the scars.” You say quietly. “You all have them. Just...makes me worried thinking about the things that caused them.” 

He hums quietly, the sound vibrating in your ear. “Some scars are symbols of survival. Things that almost killed us, that should have. Some are old wounds the body won’t let go of.” 

“That’s very poetic.” You murmur. 

His hand squeezes your side. “Don’t tell Johnny. He’ll never let me live it down.” 

A sleepy smile tugs at your lips, the exhaustion of the day and the bliss from the events of the last hour begin to drag your mind into the realm of sleep. Simon reaches for your lamp, shutting it off, bathing the room in near darkness.The dark doesn’t scare you anymore, not with Simon here. His violence and brutality should scare you, but instead, it only makes you feel safe. He’d make anyone who dared to try and hurt you pay. 

“Sweet dreams, Simon.” You murmur, a quiet purr rumbling in your chest, content as you drift off to sleep. 

It’s light out, the first rays of sunlight streaming through your window. You rub your eyes from the offending light, reaching for your sheets to tug them over your head but they’re caught around something. Your elbow knocks against something solid as you try and pull them up, a quiet grunt sounding beside you. 

Arms wrap around you, pinning you against a solid warmth. “Stop movin’.” Simon grumbles, tossing a leg over you to keep you still. 

You’ve traded places with him in the night, his back against the wall as you lay stretched out on your back. A quiet purr starts rumbling in your chest as the memories from last night begin to seep through your half-awake brain. He stayed the whole night with you. You had half expected him to get up, to leave, to wake up early, stick to his normal routine. Instead he’d stayed, even far later than he usually would. 

You turn your attention to the arm wrapped around you, your eyes trailing his tattoos. You’ve never seen them this close, able to make out the details of them now. Your fingers begin to trace his tattoos, working your way up his arm until you reach his sleeve, pushing it up as you continue to follow the tattoos all the way up to his shoulder. It’s when you get there you see something familiar. You hold his sleeve out of the way as you trace over the three images. 

“You got a tattoo for each member of the pack.” You say quietly. 

“Almost.” He says, tightening his hold around you. “Missing one.” 

You turn as best you can to look up at him, the meaning of his words not lost on you. His eyes are still closed, and had you not known better, you might have guessed he was still sleeping. His breaths are slow and even, his body still and relaxed. 

“What are you going to get?” You ask. 

“Haven’t decided yet.” He says simply. 

You turn in his grasp, managing to free one of your legs so you can toss it over his hip as you snuggle in close to him. “You could get a kitten, since that’s what Johnny calls me.” 

He snorts. “Absolutely not.” 

“Why not?” You say. “A fluffy little kitten would be cute!” 

“It would throw off the aesthetic.” He says, squishing you up against his chest. 

“Can I go with you when you get it?” You ask. 

“We’ll see.” He sighs, adjusting his leg between yours. 

You bite your lip as it presses against your mound. How easy it would be to press your hips down, grind against him. There’s still a warm electric current thrumming through you from the events of last night. Things have moved fast between you. You’ve gone from thinking he hates you to masturbating in front of each other in a matter of weeks. The leaps you’ve made between the two weeks he was gone almost seem surreal. Does he regret last night? Will he change his mind, retreat back into himself once the reality sets in? You had thought there was no going back once he stepped into your room, but in reality, he could decide to pull back, he could decide this isn’t what he wants after all. 

You’d let him. You’d watch him revert back into himself, face the pain of rejection and acknowledge that what you wanted turned out to be nothing but a dream. His comfort matters more than your needs. You’d fight to cling to the fraying bonds for nothing else besides the sanity and stability of your pack. His rejection would slice clean through those supposedly indestructible bonds, disrupting the dynamic of the pack. It would fracture, crumbling like a building with a structural failure. The bonds that they built with each other, the bonds they’ve built with you will snap leaving decaying waste with you and Johnny caught right in the middle of it all. 

You’ll do everything in your power to cling to those decaying edges, frantically gluing them back together like omegas are supposed to. Fight to hold the pack together while the betas desperately try to resolve the tension and keep everyone sane. It will be the end of the pack, the initiative will be a failure. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have pushed so much. It’s all going to go down in flames because of you. 

“You’re thinking too much again.” 

The quiet rumble of Simon’s voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. It drags you back to reality, back into your body from the quickly deepening hole of worry and fear in your mind. Your eyelids flutter as you take a deep breath, the musky scent of alpha clearing away the haze that had come over your mind. You’re still laying in Simon’s arms, pressed up against his chest, his thigh pressed between your legs. 

“How do you always know?” You murmur, snaking your arm around his side. 

“You have tells. You freeze, staying so still even the best snipers in the world would be impressed. You get this glazed over look in your eyes, and your scent changes depending on what you’re thinking about.” He says, tightening his hold around you. 

“You notice all of that?” You ask in amazement and embarrassment that he can read you so easily. You’re still not used to it, his uncanny ability to just know things when it comes to you. 

“‘S part of my job,” He says, shifting slightly closer to you. “What makes me so good at it.” His face presses against the top of your head as his thigh shifts between your legs, putting even more pressure against your clothed pussy. “You’re overthinking this, aren't you.” 

“I just...” You let out a shuddering breath, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs. “I need to know if you regret last night.” 

A low grumble vibrates through his chest before you find yourself suddenly on your back under him. It happened so fast your brain can’t even register it completely, his hand is gripping your thigh, the one you had thrown over his waist, keeping it hooked over his hip. He’s pressed between your legs, body slotted against yours like he was made to fit there perfectly. Hard edges pressed against your soft curves. 

“Does this feel like regret to you?” He says, voice rumbling deep in his chest as he presses his hips into yours. 

You can feel him...all of him through his briefs as he presses against you, nothing but thin fabric separating you. He’s just as big as you imagined, long and thick and throbbing. He drags his hips along your covered slit, closer than he’s ever been to you. The electrifying moment during training is almost nothing compared to the feeling of him pressed against you. 

“No.” You squeak out, wrapping your arms around his back as he continues to grid against you. You can feel every inch of him against your quickly dampening underwear, the fabric sticking to you and providing delicious friction with every roll of his hips. 

Your hands slip under his shirt, your palms pressing against the warm skin of his lower back. A shudder runs through him, dragging a low growl from his lips. He releases you just long enough to tug his mask up over his mouth before he descends on your neck, your head tilting to the side to give him room. 

The front of his briefs are quickly getting wet from the slick coating your thighs and his precum. Your nails sink into his skin as his teeth scrape across your throat, his tongue following to ease the sensitive, stinging skin. 

“Simon,” You whimper, pressing your hips up against him, desperately seeking relief from the ache building in your core. 

He lifts his face from your throat, your lips clashing against his in a mix of teeth and tongue. His hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. He uses his hold on you for leverage as the drag of his hips becomes almost violent. You can imagine it, the feeling of his cock thrusting into you, reaching so deep you can feel him in your stomach, the way you’ll ache for days after he’s done with you. 

“Simon, fuck...” You whine against his lips, your legs shaking as you get closer and closer to the edge. “Please!” 

His grunts and moans have turned into growls, low and deep in his chest. It sends a shiver up your spine, your omega rolling in your mind, scratching to be free. You sink your teeth into his lower lip until you taste blood, the air between you quickly becoming primal. His hand tugs on your hair, pulling your head back until your throat is bared to him. He sinks his teeth into the skin, biting until you yelp. He eases back, dragging his tongue over the sore spot. 

Your moans get louder as you get closer and closer to the edge, every sharp bite of his teeth into your neck sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to where his cock drags against your clit. You feel alive, your vision getting sharper as you get closer and closer to your orgasm. 

“Simon....Simon please.” You whine, clutching him to you so tightly it almost hurts. “I need you. Need you to rearrange my guts, fuck me until I can’t stand. Make me hurt, remind me that I’m yours.” 

A low growl reverberates in his chest, vibrating through your entire body. Your thighs squeeze around his hips, hanging onto him for dear life as he ruts against you like an animal. “Say it again.” He growls, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your ear. 

“I’m yours.” You gasp, your back arching. “Have been since the first day.”

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, grinding his hips against yours with so much force the headboard bangs against the wall. 

You cum almost instantly, soaking your underwear and his briefs. He shoves his face into your throat, inhaling deeply against your scent gland. His hand grips the pillow next to your head, his body tensing as his hips jerk against yours. Warmth coats his briefs as he spills into them for a second time in the last day, a deep growl rumbling in his chest as he nearly goes limp on top of you. 

Both of you lay there, shaking and twitching in the aftershocks of your orgasms. It’s hot and stuffy in the room, the heat from Simon’s body not helping any. For a moment you wonder if he’s fallen asleep again from how still and relaxed he is, but the twitch of his body as you soothe your hands over the marks you’ve left on his back says otherwise. 

“Simon?” You speak his name quietly in the sudden stillness of the room. 

“Soon.” He says, slowly beginning to untangle himself from you. “I’ll give you what you need soon.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, shockingly soft compared to what had just transpired. 

He slips a hand around your back, flipping the two of you again as he flops on his back on your bed. You fall against his chest, resting your head over his heart. Despite the exertion, it’s thumping steadily and evenly. Your pussy clenches at the thought of his stamina, how long he’ll be able to go. You’ll tire before him, nothing but a boneless, babbling omega as he fucks you blind and unconscious. 

The moment is ruined by the knock at the door, both of you tensing for a moment. 

“If you don’t hurry, you’ll miss breakfast.” John’s voice sounds from the other side. 

Your cheeks warm at the idea of him hearing what had just transpired. How long has he been standing out there, waiting for you to finish? Does he think Simon was just fucking you, or does he somehow know you had just been rutting away like two eager pups? You can picture the tent in his pants, the way he adjusts the painful bulge at the thought of you being taken by his second alpha. He’s been waiting for this, for the walls to finally come down, for you and Simon to finally release that pent up energy and remove the weight that has been hovering over everyone’s heads. 

“Come on,” Simon says, sitting up with you in his arms. “Need to get some food in you.” He stands, still holding you like it’s nothing to him. It probably isn’t, but the thought has your face nearly bursting into flames. 

He sets you back on your feet, his hands lingering on your sides. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in the beautiful brown irises. He holds your gaze for a moment before delivering a sharp swat to your ass. 

“Get yourself cleaned up, then we’ll go.” He pulls away from you, grabbing his jeans off the end of your bed. 

You stare at his ass as he bends over to pull them on, an idea popping in your head. “Wait,” You say before he can leave, pulling off your panties. You tuck them into his back pocket, giving it a firm pat. “Keep them.” You stand up on your toes, kissing his cheek before scurrying off to the bathroom before you get distracted again. 

You’re still shaking as you tug your shirt over your head. You look like you’ve been mauled by an animal as you stare at yourself in the mirror. There’s marks across your neck from Simon’s teeth, and your hair is a tangled mess from his hands. Your thighs are trembling a bit as you stand there, your slick drying uncomfortably on your thighs. Your lips feel bruised as you quickly brush your teeth before stepping into the shower. 

The excited tremble of your hands makes holding the body wash a struggle. You still feel electric, your mind rushing from not one but two very intimate moments between you and Simon. If this is how you feel now, you can only imagine how you’ll feel after actually having sex.

You feel a bit sore as you get dressed, doing your best to hide the scattering of marks across your skin. You don’t really have to hide them. Everyone knows you fuck the members of the 141. The images that must flash through their minds when you walk around with them. Do they think you take all of them at once? On your knees as they stand around you, being a good omega for them like in some cheesy porn video? Or bent over, presented for them as they make a mess of your pussy, fucking each other’s cum into you until you can’t hold anymore and it seeps out, leaving you laying in a puddle of it?

Your pussy clenches at the thought, warmth starting to pool in your stomach again. 

“Down girl.” You say, talking to yourself as you slip on your shoes. “We’re not there,” You straighten back up, smoothing your hands over your shirt. “Yet.” 

You take a deep breath, trying to steady the excited thrumming between your legs as you step out into the hallway. Simon is waiting for you, having changed clothes, or at least you think so. He’s in a black t-shirt and jeans still, his most common uniform when he’s not in training. 

“Come on, let’s go.” He says, motioning towards the door with his head. 

He didn’t change his shirt. 

The overwhelming scent of alpha and sex and you is wafting off of him. He might as well be wearing a bright neon sign declaring what you were up to this morning. Your omega purrs at the idea of him being coated in your scent, staking your claim over him. Maybe you shouldn’t have showered after all, wanting to wear a matching scent projecting his own claim over you. 

The mess is sparsely occupied this late in the morning, something you’re silently grateful for. Had you walked in during the peak breakfast time, you might have died on the spot. Most don’t pass a glance your way, only those you pass by directly giving you both a second look. 

Simon yanks your tray from your hands as you grab one, setting it down on the counter next to his. He begins spooning food onto it, adding the things you like. You stare at your tray wide-eyed as he fills it, your omega practically preening. 

He doesn’t even let you carry it to the table, setting it down next to his. You beam up at him as he stares down at you, unable to hide your smile. 

“What?” He asks, his eyes scanning your face. 

Your smile widens. “Thanks for making my tray.” 

He glances down at your full tray before looking back at you. “Sit down and start eating.” 

You can’t stop smiling as you sit on the bench, Simon going to get you something to drink. The activities this morning have left you hungry, hungry enough that the mess food looks appetizing. Simon returns quickly, setting a cup of tea down in front of you. 

“Tea?” You ask, staring at it.

“Yeah. ‘S good for you.” He says, starting in on his own breakfast. “Better than that sugary milk you call coffee.” 

“But you put sugar and milk in your tea.” You say, looking up at him. 

He turns to you, giving you an exasperated look. “Anyone ever tell you you’re annoying?” 

“Yeah. All the time.” You say, taking a bite out of the sausage on your fork. 

“Little shit.” He murmurs under his breath, turning back to his own tray. 

You both eat in comfortable silence, no awkward or tentative energy between you like you had worried there would be after the events that transpired over the last few hours. There’s no dancing around each other anymore, the forced distance dispersed between you. It makes you happy, your omega satisfied as your pack now feels complete. 

You almost feel like skipping as Simon leads you back to the barracks. You slip your hand into his, swinging your arms back and forth. He doesn’t pull away or even complain at your actions, letting you have your moment. Who knew he was such a big softie underneath all that armor? 

Well, you sort of knew the whole time. He could have been mean. He could have been nasty towards you, forcing you into a corner made up of only you, John, and Kyle. He could have kept Johnny from you, drawing that line in the pack and keeping you on one side. He could have let you face the consequences of punching that alpha on your own. So many times he could have left you on your own, been rough with you, let things escalate until he was violent, let his anger win and use it against you as many alphas do. 

But he didn’t. 

Even in his early avoidance of you, he was never a bad alpha towards you. He might not have liked you at first, or approved of your presence, but he never took it out on you. He put up with you because he had to, until his hesitant tolerance grew into more. You had wiggled your way in without even knowing it, long before you started trying, long before you became determined to win his approval for your sake, as well as the rest of the pack’s. 

Look at you now, holding his hand after he made you orgasm an hour ago. You would have never thought you’d get to this place with him back then. You’ve surpassed the point you wanted to get to, but you’re certainly not going to complain. You’ve gotten what you wanted, and from the sounds of it, so has he. 

It’s been two days since Simon’s return, and he has yet to fuck you. The marks on your neck have begun to fade, and you wonder if he’s waiting until they’re gone so he can make new ones. He certainly hasn’t been ignoring you, no he’s been quite clingy. He sits close to you, holds your hand every chance he can. He’s been filling your trays at meals when he takes you to the mess, something John is content to let him do. 

Your omega is satisfied, still preening at the idea of him courting you. You certainly won’t complain, nor will you try to stop him. He could claim you too, if he wanted. He could have claimed you from the start and you would have let him. Back then it would have been because it was your duty to do what your pack wanted. Now it would be because you want him to. You want to be his, just as much as you’re John’s. 

You won’t tell him that, though. Not yet. You don’t want to push him, to seem like you’re trying to move too quickly. You don’t want to scare him off now after making so much progress. That can be a conversation for later, once the two of you have adjusted to this new development in your relationship. 

An excited shiver trails down your spine as you stand outside the door. It’s early, but the world outside is grey with the coming dawn. Your heart jumps as the door in front of you opens, Simon pausing as he exits his room. He blinks down at you as you grin up at him, obviously not expecting you to be up and ready before him. 

“Ready to go?” You say, bouncing excitedly on your toes. 

He rolls his eyes at you, pulling his door closed behind him. “You’re in far too good a mood for 4:30 in the morning.” 

“I’m excited.” You say, taking his arm as you walk down the hallway. 

“And far too happy.” He says as you step out into the cool morning air. 

“I am happy.” You say, leaning your head against his arm. “You make me happy.” 

He lets out a sigh, and you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at you. “Don’t make me regret this.” 

You pause outside the door to the gym, looking up at him. “You don’t, do you?” 

He stares down at you for a long moment, your heart beating in your ears. You don’t want to scare him off with your happiness, the glee you can’t control at the relief of finally being accepted by him, of finally feeling like your pack is complete. 

“No.” He says, opening the door for you. “Now get your ass inside.” 

Relief floods through you, a smile tugging at your lips as you step into the gym. It’s quiet inside, quieter than normal even for 4 AM. 

“Most of them are out running drills today.” Simon says as he leads you down the hallway to the training room. “Base will be quiet.” 

“Won’t catch me complaining.” You say as you step into the training room. 

Simon locks the door behind you, setting his things on the bench and kicking off his shoes. You stare at him shamelessly as you follow him onto the mat, unsure whether you should thank or curse the grey sweatpants hugging his ass. 

He turns to face you and you decide to curse them, warmth flooding through you. Your mind flashes back to the morning after his return, the feeling of his cock grinding against you, his teeth sinking into your skin, leaving marks all over you. 

Fuck this is going to be a long training session. 

You’re half distracted as he runs you through combinations, most of your punches missing, your kicks almost half-hearted as most of your energy is pulsing between your legs. You keep messing up, punching at the wrong time, the order getting messed up in your mind. Agreeing to train today was probably a bad idea, given the uncontrollable lust that’s been plaguing you. Being so close to Simon and his scent isn’t helping either. 

You mess up another combo, half distracted, half dazed as you throw a punch, missing the mitt entirely. Simon lets out a frustrated growl, moving before you can even think to block yourself as he drives his shoulder into the center of your chest. You fall flat on your back, the air leaving your lungs with a sharp gasp. 

You lay there, coughing and gasping as he comes to stand over you, staring down at you disappointedly. “You’re distracted.” 

“Yeah,” You cough out, trying to catch your breath. “You keep fucking with my head.” 

“Half of fighting an alpha is a mind game. They’re going to fuck with you, because it will work.” He says, lowering himself to his knees over you. 

“Yeah, but this is different.” You say, your breathing finally returning back to normal. 

Or it was. Your inhale catches in your throat as he leans over you, his hands settling on either side of your head. “How?” He asks, his voice rougher than it had been. 

You take a deep breath as you stare up at him, feeling very small in this position, but you know he’s doing it on purpose. “I don’t want you to fuck with my head,” You say, trying to gain the upper hand. “I want you to fuck me.” 

Your words stun him for a moment, and you take the opportunity to try and reverse your positions. You swing your fist towards his side, aiming for the spot below his ribs. He recovers faster than you thought he might, catching your hand before you can make contact. He pins it to the mat beside your head, pinning your other hand on the other side. You try to use your knees to hit him, but he settles his weight over you, effectively pinning you to the mat. 

The position is reminiscent of the morning after he returned, his body pressed into yours, clinging to you as you both chased your orgasms. It sends a shiver down your spine, your body shuddering under him. His grip around your wrists shifts, pulling your hands over your head. He holds them with one of his own hands, keeping them pinned to the mat. A thrill shoots through you as you stare up at him, his body shifting to the side. 

“You want me to fuck you?” He growls, lifting his mask up to his nose. “Want me to take you right here where anyone walking by could hear you screaming my name? Where they could stand at the door jerking themselves off like needy pups, hoping to get just a whiff of your scent?” 

You would let him. He could take you right now on this mat and you wouldn’t care. Heat is pulsing between your legs, slick soaking your underwear and quickly beginning to seep through to your leggings. 

“Yes!” You whine, clenching your thighs together, seeking out any kind of friction you can get. “Please!” 

His free hand grips your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks to force your mouth open. He leans over you, holding your gaze as he spits into your mouth. Your whine is cut off as two of his fingers follow, pressing against your tongue. They taste salty from the sweat on his hands, yet you don’t care, licking the sweat from his skin. The pulsing of your pussy is starting to get to be too much, your thighs rubbing together in a desperate attempt to ease the ache. 

You moan around his fingers, laving your tongue over them as he shifts his gaze to your legs, watching you squirm and writhe. You can hardly stand it, his scent getting thicker and thicker in the air as he begins to get aroused as well. You nip at his fingers, trying to get him to pull them from your mouth. 

“Please!” You gasp as soon as your mouth is free. “Fucking touch me, Simon!” 

It’s like he had been waiting for your permission as his hand slips between your clenched thighs, cupping you over your leggings. You press your hips into his hand, grinding against him in desperate need for release. 

“What, you want this?” He says, rubbing his hand along your clothed slit. 

“Yes!” You almost sob, squeezing your thighs around his hand. “Please, Simon! Please!”

You lift your head as he slides his hand up your pelvis until it’s resting right at the waistband of your leggings. His eyes are on your face as he slowly pushes his fingers under the fabric, trailing lower and lower until he reaches the top of your mound. Your breath hitches in anticipation, lips parted as your chest heaves with every breath. So close. You’re so close to finally being touched by him. So close to getting relief. 

Your head falls back against the mat, a loud moan slipping from your lips as he finally slides his fingers lower, the rough pads brushing over your clit. “Fuck...” You whine, letting your legs fall open as he begins to circle the sensitive bud. 

It’s more than you could have imagined, better than you would have ever thought, and all he’s done is rub a few circles over your clit. His touch is electric, lighting a fire in you again, sending shocks straight through your nervous system and into your brain. You push against the hand holding your wrists but he doesn’t relent, not letting you touch him like you so desperately want to. 

His fingers leave your clit, sliding lower until they’re pressed against your hole. You shift your hips against his hand, trying to get even some relief from the ache that’s been throbbing between your legs for two days. You’ve avoided even touching yourself, wanting to make sure you were still sensitive and ready for when Simon decided he was ready. You’re glad for that now as Simon presses two of his fingers into you, your walls clamping down around them tightly. 

“C’mon,” He groans in your ear, his tongue darting out to lick at the sweat dampening your face. “Relax for me.” 

You breathe deeply, trying to get yourself to relax as he pushes his fingers further into you. His fingers are so long and thick, his knuckles catching at your entrance. 

“This tight around my fingers, how are you gonna take my cock?” He groans, thrusting his fingers gently to try and open you up for him. 

“I can take it.” You pant, bucking your hips against his hand to take his fingers deeper into you. 

“Been a while since someone fucked you, huh?” He says, beginning to thrust his fingers in and out of you. 

“Weeks.” You whine, your pussy fluttering around his fingers in relief. “Not since before you left.” 

“Oh?” His brows raise in surprise. 

“Missed you too much.” You gasp as he speeds up the movements of his fingers. “Didn’t want to.” 

“You were hoping I’d fuck you when I got back, huh.” He says, curling his fingers inside you. “Give this poor neglected cunt some attention.” 

You let out a moan that’s almost a sob as he finds that spongy spot inside you, directing the movements of his fingers directly against it. Your hands close into fists, pushing against his but he doesn’t let you go, starting to nearly pound his fingers against that spot. 

It’s too much and not enough all at once, your body starting to shake almost violently as pressure builds in your stomach. You’re being loud but you don’t care, unable to hold anything back as pleasure ripples through you, nearly blacking out your vision. You writhe on the mat, legs shaking as your feet plant on the floor, lifting your hips up against his hand. 

“That’s it.” He groans, the wet squelch of his fingers obscene in the quiet training room. 

Your body writhes from the intensity of your pleasure, tears leaking from your eyes uncontrollably. You can’t tell if you’re moaning or sobbing or both as pleasure cuts like a knife through you, toes curling and uncurling in your shoes. It’s like you’ve lost all control, your body given over to the pleasure as his fingers are pushed out of you from the force of your orgasm, fluid soaking your underwear.

You’re shuddering and shaking under him as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing it harshly. It’s almost too much, your pussy contracting almost painfully. A second orgasm is forced out of you, your thighs clamping together, your leggings soaked with fluid between your thighs. 

Simon finally relents, pulling his fingers from your pants. They’re soaked, shiny and slick with your release. You’re gasping for air, body still shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Good girl.” Simon praises you, wiping his hand on his sweatpants as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It’s strange, the tenderness after what he had just done to your body. 

And that was only with his fingers. 

He eases you up to sit, your legs trembling uncontrollably. You’re not sure how you’re even supposed to stand on them, much less walk. There’s an uncomfortable wetness between your legs, your panties and leggings sticking to your skin. 

“Easy.” He says, supporting your body as you try to rise to your feet. 

There’s a small puddle where you were laying, the outline of your body in sweat on the mat and then more fluid beneath where your ass had been. Simon lifts you into his arms, carrying you over to the bench before sitting you down. He wipes down the mat, cleaning up the mess you left before he approaches you again. 

“What was that?” You ask, shifting uncomfortably in your wet underwear. 

Simon smirks, slipping his phone and keys as well as your phone into his pockets. “Made you squirt, love.” 

Your mouth falls open, your thighs subconsciously clenching together. “You-what?” You blink in surprise. “Didn’t know I could do that.” 

He chuckles, lifting you into his arms again. “Gotta know what you’re doing to make it happen.” 

Warmth floods your cheeks as the double meaning of his words aren’t lost on you. You’re glad for the cool air outside as he carries you back towards the barracks, your legs still trembling a bit from the intense orgasm he had just given you. You’re glad the base is mostly empty, the thought of others knowing what he had just done to you is almost too much. 

“What happened?” Johnny asks as soon as Simon enters the door of the barracks, his eyes flickering back and forth between you. “Didnae hurt her, did ye?” He asks, getting defensive. 

“Quite the opposite.” Simon says, walking past him towards your door. “Taught her a little party trick.” 

Johnny’s nostrils flare as your scent finally hits him, his eyes going wide. “Fucking christ, Simon.” 

He starts towards your door as Simon sets you on your feet, but the alpha pushes him back, keeping him from entering your room. “Easy, mutt. She’s had enough this morning. Let’s get some food and liquids into her first.” 

Your pussy clenches in anticipation at his words and you quickly close the door before you, or they, change their minds. 

You’re not quite sure what to do as you stand in front of the open door, peering into a space you’ve never been in before. It almost feels wrong to take the step, to enter into sacred ground you’ve been kept out of until now. The space is plain and laid out not entirely unlike your own. There’s books lining the back of the desk, a box with what looks like records sitting on the floor next to it, and what looks like a painting hanging on the wall. The wardrobe is exactly where yours is, and you can assume there’s a dresser behind the door. 

“You going to come in or do I have to drag you?” 

You startle at the voice, lifting your gaze to Simon’s. He’s standing in the middle of the room, staring at you as you hesitate in the doorway. You swallow the lump in your throat, taking a step into the room, and then another. 

All feelings of plainness go out the window as you step further in. His bed is the same as yours, sheets blue instead of black like you might have assumed. There’s a nightstand next to the bed with a lamp and his phone, but that’s not what’s surprising to you. 

Across the wall behind his bed is a black and white mural of skulls stretching wall to wall, ceiling to floor. You stare at it in awe, taking in all the details, the shading, the realism. 

“Johnny did it for me.” Simon says, stepping up next to you. “Not long after I claimed him.” 

“It’s incredible.” You say. “Very fitting.” 

“Might need to commission him for another piece, one of the ones he’s done of you.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, very aware of Johnny’s stash of drawings of you from pictures he’s snapped while you weren’t looking, and some while you were. You’d flipped through his sketchbook, just happening upon a rather detailed drawing of your tits when he’d grabbed it and quickly shoved it on top of his wardrobe. 

It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what filled the rest of the pages in that book. 

“I’m sure he’d be happy to do one for you.” You say, turning to face him. “Maybe if you ask nicely, I could be convinced to do a custom reference for him.” 

His eyes darken as he stares at you, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare up at him, refusing to look away despite the strong musky scent rolling off of him. You stand your ground, pushing back against his attempts to make you yield, to make you submit. 

A shiver runs down your spine as he takes a step closer, and then another. You can feel the warmth of his body as he looms over you, his hand lifting to settle on your waist. His thumb brushes your side through your shirt, the heat of his palm radiating through the fabric. 

“You want me to fuck you?” He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. 

“Yes, sir.” You respond. 

His hand tightens around your waist, his scent intensifying at your words. “Fuck,” He hisses, the front of his pants suddenly getting tighter. “Brazen little shit.” 

A smile tugs at your lips. “You love it.” 

“Mmm, you seem so sure of that.” He says, tugging the bottom of his mask up. 

“Because I am.” You say, lifting yourself up onto your toes. 

He bends down, meeting you halfway. Your lips clash in a fiery kiss, your hands lifting to grip his shoulders. His own slide down your sides to grip your thighs, lifting you into his arms. He walks backwards, kicking his door closed before pressing you up against it. 

You moan as your back hits the door, Simon’s tongue sliding into your mouth as soon as your lips part. The kiss is messy and rough, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pins you against his door. It’s finally happening, what you’ve been waiting for. Two long days you’ve been waiting and wishing for this moment. Simon’s bruising grip on your thighs, and the low rumbling growl echoing in his chest speak volumes of his own desire. 

His grip tightens on you, almost becoming painful as his teeth sink into your lip. You let out a surprised yelp as he breaks the skin, the coppery tang of blood filling your mouth. 

You nearly hit the floor as Simon wrenches himself away from you, stumbling back a couple of steps. He wipes the blood from his lip and you quickly purse your own lips to try and hide the blood. He turns his back to you, his shoulders tensed and slightly hunched. 

“Simon?” You take half a step forward, but he lifts his hand, making you pause. 

You stay where you are, staring at his back. You don’t want this to ruin things, to push him away from you. A little blood hasn’t stopped you so far, nor has a little pain. You can tell he’s nervous, though, on edge, and you know exactly why. 

“Simon?” You say quietly, approaching him slowly. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, repeating the words he’s said over and over the last few weeks. It’s almost like a mantra now, and you can imagine it echoing over and over in his head. He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder as you reach him. 

“You won’t.” You say, putting your hands on his back, turning him slowly. “You haven’t so far. His eyes flicker between the healing marks on your neck, and your bleeding lip. “I trust you, Simon.” 

“You shouldn’t.” He says, his hands closing into fists. 

“Don’t be stupid.” You say, rolling your eyes. “We both want this. Denying it isn’t going to make anything better. I trust your ability to control yourself, and you have to trust that I’ll tell you if you go too far.” 

“What if I can’t stop?” 

“Johnny’s next door, and John is across the hall.” You say simply. “If nothing else, I’ll scream. They’ll know the difference.” You take his face in your hands, pulling him down slightly so you can look him in the eyes easier. “Let me be in control if you’re so worried.” 

A rumble vibrates deep in his chest at your words, his eyes flashing. Your thumbs stroke his cheeks, ghosting over his five-o’clock shadow. 

“The mask can stay on, hell all of your clothes can stay on.” You shrug. “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” 

He stares down into your eyes for a moment before leaning forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. It’s softer this time, less heated and animalistic than before. 

Simon releases you, taking a step back. He unbuttons his pants, letting them drop to the floor, leaving him in just his briefs. He picks them up, folding them like he did two nights ago, draping them over the back of his desk chair. He hesitates for a moment so you take the lead, pulling your shirt up over your head. You drop your shorts as well, leaving you in just your bra and underwear. 

Simon’s eyes scan your body and you fight the urge to cover yourself under his intense gaze. He steps forward, his fingers reaching for you. They’re surprisingly soft as they trail up your arm, goosebumps forming on your skin. His eyes follow the path of his fingers before they reach the strap of your bra. He slips his fingers underneath, pulling it up before he releases it, letting it snap against your skin. 

“Take it off.” He says, a subtle growl underneath his voice. 

It sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps forming all over your skin. “Thought I was in charge, Mr. Big Alpha Man.” 

“Little shit.” He breathes, letting out a long sigh. 

You reach behind you anyway, undoing your bra and letting it fall to the floor. 

“Christ.” He breathes, his eyes glued right on your tits. 

“Understanding all the hype now?” You smirk. “You can touch them if you’d like.” 

He curses under his breath but lifts his hands anyway, cupping your breasts. You bite your lip as he squeezes them gently, his eyes glued to your chest. 

“Didn’t take you for a tits guy.” You say, biting back a moan as his thumb brushes over your nipple. 

“I'm just full of surprises.” He says, earning a surprised yelp as he tugs harshly on your nipple. 

He leans down, dragging his tongue over the sensitive skin to soothe it. You let out a soft moan at the sensation, your hands lifting to grip his biceps. 

“Fuck,” He groans against your skin, straightening back up. “On the bed.” He says, motioning with his head. 

“Thought I was in charge.” You sass. 

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you.” He retorts. 

You open your mouth to argue but you can't. You know he's right, so instead you make your way to the bed, crawling onto the mattress, making sure he can see the damp spot on your underwear as you do. 

You pause when you hear crinkling, running your hand over the sheet. “A heat liner?” 

“Gotta protect the mattress.” He shrugs, approaching the bed. 

Your eyes widen as your face warms, the implications not lost on you. You think back to earlier in the gym, your face only warming even more. “Oh.”

He grips the back of your knees, tugging you to the edge of the bed, pushing your knees up. You're spread open in front of him, the damp spot on your panties only getting bigger as he stares down at the only barrier left between you. 

“You could take a picture.” You say as he stands there, frozen. “Something to remember me by.”

“Little shit.” He says under his breath, his hands sliding up your inner thighs until they reach your hips. 

His fingers curl under the waistband of the lacy black fabric, slowly dragging them down over your ass and then down your legs. He tosses the fabric behind him before parting your legs again. He's shamelessly staring at your glistening pussy, bare and spread open for him. 

A moment passes as he stands there frozen, and for a second you wonder if he's ever seen a pussy before, much less a naked woman. Obviously he has, based on what happened earlier. He’s experienced, and you try not to let the thought bother you, jealousy rising at the thought of his hands on another woman. Did she get to see his face? How vulnerable was he with her. 

You bring your attention back to Simon as he stands there frozen. “You okay?” You ask, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. 

He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy. 

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stare up at his mask-covered face. “Why don't you show me what you did in the gym earlier.” You suggest, finally getting him to react.

His eyes flash up to your face, his grip on your legs loosening. He stares at you for a second before letting them go completely. “Wait here.” He disappears into the bathroom for a moment before he comes out carrying a towel. 

He lays it on the floor beside the bed, looking between you and the towel for a moment before nodding in approval. You watch him as he grabs a pillow, slipping it behind you to prop you up before sinking onto the mattress next to you. He pulls one of your legs over his lap, and you hook an arm around the other one, getting the idea. 

Your eyes are glued to his hand as he drags it across your stomach, letting his blunt nails scrape across your skin. You shiver in response, goosebumps covering your skin again. His hand slips through your folds, gathering some of your slick on his fingers before he returns to your clit, circling it like he had earlier. You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the pillow as he teases the sensitive bud. 

Simon leans closer to you, pressing gentle kisses to your jaw. “Fucking beautiful omega.” He praises you, his teeth scraping your skin gently. “Been working me up for weeks, laying in here listening to you fuck the others, those sweet little sounds coming from you.” He groans into your skin, his fingers applying more pressure to your clit. “Had me in here wanking like some needy teenager, imagining it was me making you scream like that, like it was your hand on my cock.” 

His words make you shiver. You know he’s heard you, it was impossible not to, but you had always pictured him with ear plugs in or headphones on, trying to drown out the noise. Or maybe he always chose those moments to shower, trying to drown you out with the water. 

You hadn't considered that he'd be in here masturbating to the sound of you being fucked by the others. You certainly wouldn’t have guessed it was you he was jerking off to. You would have assumed his focus was on the others and the sounds of their pleasure. Your pussy clenches at the mental image of him in bed, fisting his cock, trying not to cum until you do. He knows what you sound like when you cum, he'd have figured that out quickly. He'd use that knowledge, edging himself until you came so he could cum with you. 

“Fuck...” You moan, slick dribbling out of you at the thoughts flashing through your mind. 

“Nearly blacked out when you let Johnny fuck you from behind the first time.” He groans, circling your clit faster. “Imagining you bent over his bed, split open around his cock,” He shakes his head. “Wanted to be in there, bend him over you and fuck him into you, get both of you desperate and needy, begging me for release.”

Your head tilts back, your legs shaking as his words nearly send you over the edge. The mental images are almost too much, the possibilities now that you've opened this door. 

You whine as his hand leaves your clit, his fingers closing around your jaw and pulling your head back up. “Keep your head up.” He says. “Want you to watch.”

You whimper as he returns to your pussy, dragging his fingers down your slit before pressing two into your slick hole. They slide in easier than they did this morning, your body opening to him in anticipation. He thrusts his fingers slowly, teasing you as he continues to work you up. 

“Wanna fuck you so full of cum you're almost bursting then let Kyle eat it out of you. Might let him fuck you after just to see the two prettiest members of the pack together.” He continues. 

You squeeze around his fingers, a loud moan leaving your lips. You could cum from his words alone and the mental images flashing through your mind. All the possibilities, all the opportunities that are now in front of you. 

He curls his fingers, finding that spongy spot again. You know what's coming, the anticipation building in your stomach as he begins to thrust his fingers against that spot. 

“Want Price to bend you over my desk, watch as he fucks you until you're a crying mess, and then it will be my turn.” He growls, pounding his fingers against that spot. “Make you forget your name, forget how to do anything but whine in pleasure.

You desperately keep your eyes on his hand as that overwhelming pressure begins in your stomach again, your moans getting sharper and sharper the more it builds. Your hips jerk uncontrollably as you nearly black out again, fluid squirting from you and into the air. Simon's fingers are forced out of you from the intensity of the orgasm, but he's not done as he begins frantically rubbing at your clit. Another orgasm is forced out of you from the hypersensitivity as you squirt again, soaking your pussy and the side of the bed. 

You let your head fall back as you gasp for air, your body shuddering uncontrollably in the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm. Simon leans down, kissing you like he wants to devour you as he slips his fingers back inside your spasming pussy. It’s almost painful, the sensations too much as he stretches you open again. 

“One more.” He groans against your lips as he starts bullying that spot inside you with his fingers again. “Give me one more.”

“Simon,” you grip the front of his shirt, the feeling almost too much as it builds faster this time. “Simon!” You let out a high pitched shriek, squirting again all over his hand and the floor. 

“That's it.” He groans, finally relenting as his wet hand comes to rest on your clenching stomach. 

Tears blur your vision as you lay there shaking, nearly having an out of body experience from the pleasure. It's painful, but not in a bad way. 

His hand slides up your body until he's gripping your jaw, turning your face to his. He kisses you roughly, forcing his tongue past your lips as he holds you there, your release dripping from your pussy onto the sheets. His kiss is all tongue and teeth, bordering on the animalistic violence that had almost taken over you both two days ago. It had thrilled and terrified you, how easily both of you got lost in the moment. 

You hadn't even been naked then. 

You don't ponder on it long as he pulls away from you delivering a slap to your pussy before he stands, watching the way you jerk from the sharp sting on the sensitive skin. You nearly cum from it, pussy clenching from how sensitive you are. 

He reaches into the top drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a bottle. He moves to stand between your legs again, letting them fall to the sides for a moment. You're limp as you stare up at him, not sure you could move your body at all if you had to. You're beginning to understand why he was so worried.

He palms at the very prominent bulge in his briefs, an excited thrill running through you as he slips his hands under the waistband, slowly sliding it lower and lower. You lick your lips as more skin is revealed to you, a trail of light hair leading to the thick shaft of his cock. It keeps going and going as he lowers his briefs, thick and long and an angry red color as the fabric finally drops out of sight. 

“Fuck...” You breathe as you stare at it, looking big even in his large hand. 

He moves closer, lifting your legs from where they're hanging over the side of the bed, pushing them up as close to your chest as they can get, essentially folding you in half. His cock drags through your folds, the head catching on your clit. It makes you twitch with every pass of his hips, your lips parting in anticipation. You could cum like this, your pussy still oversensitive from your three orgasms already. Four, if you count the one in the gym earlier. 

“You said you could take it.” He teases, his hands keeping your legs pressed back. 

You nod. “Uh huh.”

“Having second thoughts?” He smirks. 

You're not sure if it's your ego or your pride or just sheer determination that has you shaking your head. “Nope.” 

His smirk widens as he reaches for the bottle, popping the cap before squirting some lube on his cock and onto your hole. He tosses the bottle back onto the bed before rubbing the lube on his cock, dragging the head through your slick folds, spreading the cold lube against the heated skin. “Good girl.”

You shiver from the praise, your breath catching in your throat as he begins to press into you. The burning stretch is almost too much for your oversensitive walls despite the preparation he had given you. His fingers were nothing compared to his cock, and for a moment you regret not fucking one of the others in the two weeks he was gone. 

Your breaths are coming in high pitched gasps, broken by moans as he sinks into you, your legs shaking and he hasn't even fucked you yet. You could cum just like this, just from the stretch. You can feel all of him, every inch of his length, every inch of his circumference as your pussy gapes around him. 

“Wait,” You grip his wrists, his movements pausing. “Fuck, gimme a second.” 

His eyes are on you as you lay there, trying to relax around him, fighting desperately not to cum like this. He might as well be in your guts, and you're beginning to think you had been right in asking him to rearrange them for you. You lift your head, staring down between your legs. A low groan of astonishment leaves your lips. He's only halfway in. 

You let out a keening moan before you nod. “Okay, okay. Keep going.” 

If his cock is this big, you can't even imagine taking his knot. 

He sinks even deeper, moving slowly as he watches your face. Your eyes are on the ceiling, the stretch seeming almost endless as it keeps going and going. 

Finally he's seated inside you, practically snuggled up against your cervix, or at least that's what it feels like. You could cum just like this, laying here with your knees by your ears, stuffed full of Simon's cock. He wouldn’t even have to move, just stand there as you flutter around him, soaking his cock with your release. 

“Fucking hell.” He groans as you squeeze around him, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in. 

“Can't help it,” You moan, squeezing around him again. “So big.” 

He lets out a low groan, his hips twitching. “Tell me I can move. Let me fuck you.”

You're half tempted to stay silent, to lay here and see how long he lasts, how long he'll let you hold control before he takes over. A battle of wills, just as everything seems to become between you. Alpha versus omega, instinct versus instinct, willpower versus willpower. Just like every battle, though, you find yourself bowing, giving in, unable to fight the power he holds over you. It’s for a different reason this time, though, your desperation and neediness is just as strong as his. You’ve both been waiting for this, neglecting yourselves for far too long. 

“Fuck me, Simon.” You breathe, fingers gripping the sheets for dear life. “Fuck me till I can't remember anything but your name.” 

He lets out a low growl as he pulls back, drawing his cock out halfway before snapping his hips forward until they slap against yours. You yelp as your body rocks from the force of his thrust, not expecting it. He pulls his hips back slowly again before he repeats the motion, practically slamming into you. It hurts, stealing your breath away, but it leaves you feeling almost electric, pleasure bubbling under your skin.  

Slowly his thrusts get shorter, but they lose none of their force as he fucks into you roughly. You're creating quite the cacophony of sounds from skin slapping skin and the obscene squelch of your pussy to your high pitched keening moans and his deep growls. His eyes are glued to your face, watching the pleasure glaze over your eyes as you stare at the bulge in your stomach from his cock. 

He moves the pillow out from behind you, pushing you flat on your back as he folds his body over yours. He releases your legs, letting them drape over his shoulders as he continues to pound into you. There's a wild look in his eyes, your omega beginning to stir as your brain registers the shifting scents, the heavy musk in the room. 

Sweat has slicked your skin and Simon's, mixing where your skin is pressed together. He turns his head, licking the skin of your thigh, tasting the salty sweat. Your mouth feels dry as you stare up at him, wanting to sink your teeth into him and chew on him. You want to make him bleed, have him howling in pain as he stuffs you so full you'll be leaking for a week. 

You grip his forearms, your nails digging into his skin, making him hiss out a curse. A wild look flashes behind his eyes as he sinks his teeth into your thigh, clamping down as you continue to dig your nails into his arms, neither of you relenting. He shifts his hips just slightly, hitting a different angle that has you releasing his arms as pleasure wracks through you. He releases your thigh with a satisfied grin, fucking into at the new angle like a wild animal. 

Your body shudders, your moans muffling as he presses two of his fingers into your mouth again, pushing on your tongue. You choke around them, fighting every urge to sink your teeth into his skin until he releases you or you taste blood. 

“That’s it.” He grunts as you whimper desperately around his fingers. “You can take it.” 

Drool seeps out from around his fingers as he fucks you until you’re almost cross-eyed, your pussy spasming around him as every thrust brings you closer and closer to the edge. 

You can’t stop it as you sink your teeth into his fingers, your legs squeezing together as your body seizes, your release gushing around his cock as you cum. Your eyes roll back, blood on your tongue as he wrenches his fingers from your mouth. Your head tilts back, back arching as he doesn’t stop, undeterred by your orgasm. 

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, the clenching of your pussy almost painful as he continues to fuck you. “Fucking tight around me.” 

“Please, please, Simon!” You whine, the only two words you can pull from your brain, and even they begin to mesh together into mindless babble as you grip his sheets, nearly pulling them off the edges of the mattress. 

Tears leak from your eyes as he fucks into you so hard the frame shakes, knocking into the wall. He leans his head down, his teeth sinking into the skin over your collarbone until you bleed. Droplets of blood mix with the sweat dripping down your chest, Simon’s eyes following them as they disappear between your breasts. 

“Gonna cum for me again?” He growls, blood staining his lips red. He looks like a ghoul, wild eyed and bloody mouthed, feasting on your flesh. An incubus sucking the life out of you as he brings you endless pleasure. 

“Simon!” You squeal, eyes squeezing closed as you’re thrown into another orgasm, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you clench around him, almost as if your body is trying to suck his cock in deeper. 

He continues to fuck you, every curse word known to man spilling from his lips as you tighten around him, dragging his own orgasm from him. He slams his hips into yours, letting out a feral growl as he spills into you. Warmth fills your belly as he spurts his hot cum into you, filling you up. Your legs are shaking where they’re tossed over his shoulders, clenching around his neck. His skin is flushed red from the bottom of his mask to the collar of his shirt. 

You can’t move as you lay there, shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm. You want to take a break, tap out, ask for five minutes and a glass of water, but from the look in Simon’s eyes you know it’s not over yet. There’s no taking a break, not that he’s gotten a taste of your pussy. 

He releases your legs, letting them drop off the side of the bed. He pulls away long enough to flip you over, bending you over the side of the bed. You whine as he presses his cock back into you, ignoring the squeeze of your sensitive walls as he splits you open around him again. He bends over you, pressing his chest to your back as his hips press flush to your ass. 

“Simon.” You whine, your hands gripping the sheets as his hand snakes around you, wrapping around your throat.

He growls low and dangerous, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back. You squeeze around him, a chill running through you, your instincts telling you to run or roll over in submission to him. Your omega claws at your mind, desperate to meet him toe to toe, one for one. You begin to push your hips back into him, fucking yourself on his cock as his teeth sink into the skin on the back of your shoulder. The tables have turned, the control has shifted. 

He’s not Simon anymore. 

Your lips part in a gasp as he thrusts into you, meeting your own movements on his cock, reminding you who’s in charge, who holds the reigns in this position. The word comes tumbling from your lips, brainlessly and unconsciously, no thoughts there to stop it, your hands too busy clinging to the sheets for dear life to even prevent it from slipping out. 

“Alpha!” 

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @protokosmonaut

@fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites

@kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos

@konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13

@anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry

@red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving

@slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01

@heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006

@sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164

@mirzamsaiph @xlxnq @chickennn-soupp

[alwaysmicado]

hi i was just wondering if you could write a pregnant joel miller fanfic (where joel is pregnant) thank youuuuuu

two hearts, one bond

3.2k ♡ Joel Miller x f!reader

post-outbreak, established relationship, pregnancy Summary: Joel experiences sympathetic pregnancy. A/N: Sweet fluff with angst sprinkled on top. Thanks so much for your request, Anon! I hope this is to your liking even if Joel’s not physically carrying the baby. Enjoy and let me know what you think! Dividers by the wonderful @cafekitsune.

keep you warm ♡ Joel masterlist

Joel stands in front of the bathroom mirror, his reflection staring back at him. The towel around his hips barely conceals his nakedness as he scrutinizes his own body. He frowns, his fingers grazing over the small swell of his belly.

It’s nothing compared to yours, but to him, it feels like an unwelcome intrusion.

“Hey, sweetheart?” he calls out, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

You glance up from the book you’re reading in the living room, eyebrows raised attentively. “Yeah?”

Joel’s gaze remains fixed on his reflection as he hesitates before finally speaking. “Do I...do I look fat?”

Your brow furrows in surprise. Joel has never been one to fret over his appearance, especially not like this. “Fat? Joel, you’re not fat. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

He pokes his head out of the bathroom, his expression pleading for reassurance. “Are you sure? I feel like I’ve gained some weight lately.”

You set your book aside and waddle your way to the bathroom, your steps careful yet eager. Wrapping your arms around Joel from behind as far as your eight-month bump will allow, you nestle against him with a deep exhale.

You feel the warmth of his skin, the comforting rise and fall of his chest, and the soft hair that trails from his chest to his belly button.

The overwhelming intimacy of the moment floods you with gratitude. You are thankful for the love of your life, for the miracle of growing a child, and for the simple, profound gift of being alive to share this journey.

“Joel, you’re not gaining weight,” you murmur. “And even if you were, that would just mean you’re eating well, which is a good thing. Little one and I need you to be strong and healthy. Besides, I love every part of you, including this little belly of yours.”

He lets out a shaky sigh, leaning back into your embrace. “Thanks, darlin’. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately. I just...I feel off. Can’t sleep at night and my stomach’s been givin’ me trouble.”

You press a kiss to his shoulder, trying to ignore the ache in your own body as you hold him close. If you could, you’d absorb all the things that pain him in a heartbeat.

Since starting your journey together, you’ve tried your best to help Joel carry the heavy things that weigh him down, to shield him from the things that dull his shine, to mend his broken heart by loving him unconditionally and wholly.

To show him that there is light in darkness.

You’re convinced he’s your purpose in life. And now that you’re close to meeting the child you two have created, you’re more protective of him than ever before.

You love him. And you need him.

“Hmm, maybe you’re stressed because the baby’s coming soon?” you muse, running a hand through Joel’s hair, softly scratching his scalp. “I am too, believe me. Just existing is exhausting at this point. But hey, we’ve faced clickers, and infected, and raiders together. We’ve clawed our way out of so many hopeless situations that should have killed us, and now look at us. We made it. We’re safe. We can do baby. We can do anything if we stick together, hm?”

You’re saying this to him as much as you’re saying it to yourself. You’re very aware of the little changes in Joel’s behavior, you know he hasn’t been feeling well. And it’s stressing you out.

Joel’s tense shoulders relax under your touch, and he looks at your reflection in the mirror with a mixture of gratitude and adoration.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, darlin’,” he says softly. “And you’re so right. We’ve been through hell and back together. What’s one more challenge, huh?”

You smile, feeling a surge of affection for the man who’s shown you more love than you ever knew existed.

“Exactly. And just think, soon we’ll have a little bundle of joy to add to our adventures.”

Joel turns around and cups your face with his warm palms, pressing a lingering kiss to your soft lips. The sensation sends a delightful shiver down your spine, and feeling his smile warms your heart as it always does.

Yet, in his eyes, you catch a flicker of sadness as he pulls back to get dressed in the bedroom.

Sitting on the couch again, you watch him with growing concern as he grabs his rifle and backpack, puts on his thick winter coat, and promises you and your little one that he’ll be back before sunset.

He heads out, leaving you to your freshly brewed coffee and to your book, but you can’t shake the unease settling in your chest.

“It’s okay, little one,” you groan as your baby’s kicking you, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs. “Your dad’s got a lot of responsibilities and that can be tiring and stressful, you know? But you don’t need to worry. Mommy’s looking after him. Just like she’ll always look after you.” 

You try to catch your breath, softly stroking your belly in the hopes it’ll calm the baby down. It works, sort of, and after a couple of minutes you feel strong enough to get up and get dressed.  

Anxious, you try to fill your day with chores and a few hours in the library, all the while reminding yourself that Joel wouldn’t keep secrets from you, that he’s healthy, that everything’s going to be okay. You repeat these reassurances like a mantra, but as the days pass, Joel’s unease only seems to grow. 

He becomes increasingly sensitive to smells, gagging at the slightest whiff of certain foods cooking in the kitchen. Some mornings, he’ll only drink his black coffee, refusing to eat a single bite of the breakfast you’ve lovingly prepared. He assures you it’s not about your cooking, but he can’t fully explain why he’s so turned off by foods he enjoyed just days ago.

You notice his restless nights too.

He isn’t sleeping, and you often find yourself awake, hearing him get up in the middle of the night to take a walk outside. He always tries to be quiet, believing he hasn’t woken you, but you lie there, listening to his footsteps fade into the darkness.

He usually returns after half an hour, slipping back into bed behind you, and attempting to find some semblance of peaceful sleep.

The most striking change, though, is in his mood. His calm, reassuring demeanor has been replaced by irritability and anxiety. Every little sound seems to set him off, and he jumps at the slightest touch.

You try your best to be patient, knowing that he’s going through a tough time, but it’s hard when your own patience is wearing thin.

“Can you please pass me the salt?” you ask one morning, reaching across the table during breakfast.

Joel flinches as if your voice startled him, nearly knocking over his coffee mug in the process. “Sorry,” he mutters, handing you the salt with shaky hands.

You sigh inwardly, trying to keep your frustration in check. “It’s okay. Just...try to relax, alright?”

He nods, but you can tell he’s still on edge. As the morning wears on, his sensitivity only seems to increase. He jumps at the sound of a door closing, flinches when you accidentally brush against him, and seems on the verge of tears at the slightest provocation.

Finally, you reach your breaking point.

“Joel, could you please stop being so jumpy? You’re acting like a nervous wreck, and it’s driving me fucking crazy!”

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, and you immediately regret them when you see the hurt look on Joel’s face. His eyes well up with tears, and he sniffles, his lower lip trembling.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he chokes out, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m sorry, I’m so–”

You rush to his side, wrapping your arms around him tightly. 

“Oh, Joel, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that,” you look into his wet eyes and pull him even closer to you. “I’m just so worried about you. It scares me and I feel helpless when you don’t feel well.”

He buries his face in your shoulder, his tears soaking into your shirt. “I don’t understand what’s goin’ on with me. It’s like...I can’t control it, you know?”

You stroke his back soothingly, trying to offer whatever comfort you can.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here,” you coo, holding him close. “It’s probably just the stress of everything going on. You’ve been so busy these past few months, helping out with patrols and construction so much. Plus, I’m close to giving birth and, as wonderful as that is, it’s scary as hell. I get it. But Joel? We’ll get through this together, alright?”

He nods against your shoulder, his grip on you tightening. “I know, darlin’. Thank you.”

Later that night, lying in bed together, Joel’s hand drapes protectively over you, feeling the baby’s gentle movements.

For the first time in over two weeks, he falls asleep and stays asleep through the night. The steady rhythm of his breathing eases your frayed nerves, giving you hope that he just needed to release all that pent-up emotion and that crying it all out helped him.

But, despite his mood improving a little over the next three days, his physical state seems to worsen. You try your best to support him through it all, but it’s clear that something is genuinely wrong.

One evening, as you curl up together on the couch, watching the flickering flames of the fireplace, Joel’s stomach churns audibly. He pales and clutches his abdomen, then suddenly bolts upright, rushing to the bathroom. You follow close behind, worry etching deeper lines into your face as you hear him retching, barely making it in time before throwing up his dinner for the third night in a row.

“That’s it,” you declare, determination and concern in your voice, as you rub his back and hand him a damp cloth to wipe his face. “You’re going to the doctor tomorrow.”

Joel protests weakly, his voice strained. “I’ll be fine, darlin’. I don’t wanna be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden, Joel,” you reply firmly, your eyes searching his for understanding. “You’ve been feeling off for weeks now and I can’t stand to see you suffer like this anymore. We need to find out what’s going on. Not only for your sake but also for mine and the baby’s.”

Joel looks at you, his eyes softening at the mention of your child. He nods resignedly, his shoulders slumping.

“Alright. I’ll go.”

As Joel heads out to his doctor’s appointment alone—you couldn’t join him since you’re experiencing horrible back pain—you’re left lying in bed, your mind consumed with worry. Every worst-case scenario plays out in your head, and you can’t shake the feeling of dread gnawing at your insides.

What if something is seriously wrong with Joel? What if he’s sick? What if, no matter what you do, no matter how much you love him, that just isn’t enough? What if…what if you can’t protect him this time?

It’s the same intrusive thoughts you’ve been having since falling in love with him all this time ago, but now that he’s shown actual symptoms of some sort of illness, you’re scared to death.

Your own discomfort from the pregnancy seems magnified as you lie there, feeling helpless and alone. Tears stream down your cheeks as you reach a hand to gently caress your swollen belly, whispering words of reassurance to the tiny life growing inside you.

“It’s okay, little one. Daddy will be back soon. We just have to be strong,” you murmur, though the anxiety in your voice betrays your attempt at calm.

You know your baby can feel your stress, and that knowledge only heightens your anxiety. Your heart races, and you struggle to breathe evenly. The minutes stretch on endlessly, each one an eternity as you wait for Joel to return. 

Finally, you hear the front door open, and your heart leaps into your throat as you strain to listen for any sign of his footsteps. You try to judge by his gait and the pace with which he takes off his coat and boots how bad the news is going to be, but you can barely hear anything over the loud thumping of your heartbeat and the rushing of blood in your ears.

Joel finds you sitting up in bed, his expression one you can’t read.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says softly, crossing the room to sit beside you. His face falls when he sees your tears and how scared you look, and immediately lifts his hands to caress your cheeks. 

“Oh, darlin’, I–”

“Please just tell me,” you blurt out, feeling like your heart is going to explode if you have to wait even one second longer. “I can take it, I promise. What did the doctor say?”

“Well,” Joel starts, taking your trembling hands in his, his voice slightly sheepish as he looks into your swollen eyes. “The doctor said that I, uh–he said I have Couvade syndrome.”

Oh no. No, no, no. That doesn’t sound good. Couvade syndrome? You’ve never heard of it.

“What’s that? Is it dangerous? What can we do to—can it be cured?” Panic seeps into your voice as you clutch Joel’s arm.

“Darlin’, calm down,” he says, leading your hands back into the safety of his own. “There is a cure.”

“Okay, what is it? You need to take medication? Have surgery? What is it?”

“There’s no need for medication or surgery,” Joel assures you, softly squeezing your hands. “And, uh,” he clears his throat, “I’ll apparently be perfectly healthy again in about a month, more or less, dependin’ on when our little one decides to meet us.” 

A small smile creeps onto Joel’s lips as he speaks, but you furrow your brow in confusion. His hands move to your bump, caressing it gently.

Your mind races, connecting the dots of Joel’s recent symptoms—throwing up, food aversion, sensitivity, complaints about his belly, and sleep troubles.

Then it hits you.

“Are you kidding me?” you whisper in disbelief.

“No, darlin’, I’m not,” Joel chuckles, watching the fear in your eyes morph into a mix of outrage and bewilderment.

“It’s called sympathetic pregnancy. It means my body’s been mimickin’ your pregnancy symptoms. The nausea, the fatigue, even the weight gain. The doc said it’s rare but harmless. I’m not sick, darlin’. I’m just goin’ through this with you.”

You’re still staring at him, mouth agape, slowly shaking your head. “Sympathetic pregnancy? You mean...you’ve been feeling sick because I’m pregnant?”

Joel nods. “Pretty much, yeah.”

Relief washes over you, but the absurdity of the situation also hits you, and you can’t help but laugh through a new set of tears.

“What the hell, Joel? I thought I was going to lose you, and now you’re telling me this was all psychosomatic? I can’t believe it. You were so sick, and I–huh?”

Joel chuckles and pulls you into a tight hug, drawing soothing circles on your aching back. You relax in his arms, and for the first time in weeks, feel like you can breathe freely again.

“When I said I’d be with you forever and stand by you through it all, my body must’ve heard that and decided to make me feel what you’re experiencin’ with this pregnancy.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck. “All this moping around was that?”

“Hey, that mornin’ sickness is no joke, I actually felt like I was dyin’.”

Eyebrows raised, you pull back to look at him with an expression that says, “Seriously? You’re telling me about morning sickness?”

Joel can read your thoughts and he grins, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“This isn’t a competition, darlin’. Who’s to say who’s pregnancy has been harder or who’s been feelin’ worse–”

He doesn’t get any further before you’re pulling him into a hug again, effectively shutting him up.

“I was so scared, Joel,” you whisper, digging your fingers into his back. “I was so scared I’d lose you.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” He softly strokes the back of your head. “But you’re not gettin' rid of me that easily. I made a vow to you and our child, and I intend to keep it.”

“I love you, Joel,” you murmur. “My big baby.”

The morning sun filters through the curtains as you shuffle into the kitchen, feeling like you’ve barely slept a wink. Joel is already there, slouched over the table, a look of utter exhaustion on his face.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” you tease, crossing the kitchen to sit on his lap. 

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he mumbles with a tired smile, happily wrapping his arms around you, and capturing your lips in a kiss that leaves you even more breathless than you already were.

“Someone’s feeling better,” you murmur, gently nudging his nose with yours.

“Much better,” he nods, his eyes crinkling with affection. “I still didn’t sleep too much last night, but just havin’ a diagnosis helps a lot. Now we just have to wait for our little one to arrive, and I’ll be good as new.” He kisses the tip of your nose, his gaze filled with adoration.

“How about we cook some bacon and eggs, hm?” you suggest, and Joel’s eyes light up. He’s incredibly hungry.

As you work together in the kitchen, Joel occasionally has to take breaks to sit down, claiming his ‘pregnancy fatigue’ is kicking in and that his ‘feet hurt’. You roll your eyes fondly, knowing he’s milking his this for all it’s worth.

After a filling breakfast, you both settle on the couch, cuddled up together in your favorite little love blanket. 

“I’m so happy you’ve been eating better,” you murmur, tracing circles on his arm. “I need you, you know?”

As the baby kicks inside you, you place Joel’s hand on your belly, feeling the life you’ve created together.

“I still can’t believe we’re going to have a child,” he whispers, his voice filled with emotion.

You lean your head against his shoulder, overwhelmed with love for him. “I know, it’s pretty incredible. And hey, if you survive these pregnancy symptoms, I know you’ll be the best dad.”

He chuckles softly, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “I sure hope so. But seriously, darlin’, you’re incredible. I don’t know how you’re handlin’ all of this with such grace.”

You give him a playful nudge. “Well, I have a great partner to help me through it. Even if he does complain about his swollen feet more than I do.”

Joel grins sheepishly, pulling you closer. “I’ll try to tone it down a bit. For you.”

Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts & if you have any ideas for future fics. I love hearing from you!

keep you warm ♡ Joel masterlist ♡ AO3

[seulrinnie-rinrin]

Rhythm of Desire

SUMMARY | You and Mingi get paired up for a special song collab that calls for sexy dancing and smooth seductive vocals and rapping. You can’t help but want each other. PAIRING | Mingi/Reader GENRE | smut with no (maybe a little) plot, uprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), fingering, vaginal sex, praising, dirty talk RATING | Mature LENGTH | 6643 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | Why does this have so much dialogue? LOL

“So…” You stood in front of the mirrors in the dance studio, watching Mingi through the reflection. “Is this it? Are we just going to stare at each other like idiots for the rest of the night?”

He looked up from his phone, frowning at you. “I’m just trying to figure out this part of the dance. We’re supposed to be in sync with our bodies, but I can feel when you try to do something different. It throws me off.”

“Why? It’s not like it matters if we don’t look exactly alike, right?”

He shrugged. “We’re singing about sexual innuendo, so it needs to feel real.”

“Mingi,” you sighed, running a hand through your loose hair. “We’ve worked together on other projects before. You know my moves and I know your moves. Why is it suddenly such a big deal now?”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He pulled himself closer, standing behind you. His breath was warm against your neck as he spoke into your ear. “I just think maybe… maybe it’ll be easier if we could move together more smoothly.”

“That sounds good,” you said slowly, not wanting to say anything that might cause another argument between you two. After all, one thing you knew for sure was that working with Mingi wasn’t easy.

You knew he took his craft seriously. Every movement had meaning, every word was calculated to fit the rhythm perfectly, and every bit of his body language was designed to bring out his natural charisma. While it wasn’t your style to work that way, you still appreciated what he did for a living, and you respected him for it. If you didn’t care about how he worked, then why should he care how you did things?

He pressed his hips against yours and smirked when you leaned back against him. Your skin tingled from the contact and you swallowed thickly, your heart racing as his hands slid down your arms to grasp your wrists.

“Let’s see if this helps us synchronize better,” he whispered.

The music started playing again, and you watched him take a deep breath, concentrating on your movements. Slowly, you mimicked his posture, feeling the beat sync with your breathing. The sway of your hips grew deeper as your breasts brushed his chest, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. He kept the same pace with you, only pressing in closer when the music called for it.

Every time he moved close to you, it felt like a taunt. As if he wanted to kiss you and show you what he really meant by the lines he sang. But you held yourself together as best you could, taking deep breaths to calm your nerves.

This wasn’t like the times before where you and him worked on projects side by side. No, these moments were… intimate, almost. For some reason, being this close to him made you forget everything else around you, focusing solely on the person you were touching.

A sigh escaped your lips as you dropped your gaze, looking down at your feet as they moved forward and back in time with Mingi’s. What would it be like if you actually kissed him? What would it be like if he actually touched you? The thoughts alone made you blush furiously, and you tried hard to push them away. This was your job after all, and your place was here, dancing with Mingi, not fantasizing about him.

When the song ended, Mingi let go of your wrists and stepped slightly back. “It feels more natural now,” he admitted quietly, nodding at himself in the mirror.

“Good,” you replied, knowing that no matter what, you couldn’t allow your mind to wander towards anything romantic. “Hopefully the singing part will be easier once we’ve done this.”

He smiled softly. “We have twenty minutes left. Let’s practice singing while moving our bodies in sync. I want you to mimic my movements exactly, and I’ll match yours. Got it?”

You nodded. “Got it.”

And so the next twenty minutes went by in silence. Each movement matched perfectly, and you lost yourself completely to the art of synchronized dance. By the end of it, your legs were shaking with fatigue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move away from him. His presence surrounded you, and you couldn’t find it within yourself to stop this new form of intimacy.

Finally, the song ended and he stepped away, stretching his arms over his head and yawning widely. “Oh man, I am exhausted. And hungry too. Wonder if the rest of the group ate.”

You nodded, rising to your feet. “Let’s go check.”

Minutes later, you found everyone sitting on the floor in one of the other practice rooms, plates full of food sitting in front of them. Everyone was talking amongst themselves and eating their meals without even glancing at you and Mingi. When you approached, Jiae, the leader and rapper of the girl group you were in, waved to you, getting up from the floor to meet you halfway.

“How’d it go?” she asked excitedly, leading you towards the rest of the other girls in your group. “Did you guys manage to make any progress?”

“I think so,” you answered, smiling faintly.

As soon as you sat down, Ari, one of the group’s vocalists, leaned towards you, eyes sparkling. “Something going on between you and Mingi? I caught a glimpse of your practice and it looked like y’all were flirting!”

You glanced at Mingi who merely shrugged, eating his food casually. “Nothing serious,” you said lightly.

“Nothing serious?” Hongjoong’s voice echoed from somewhere in the room. “I did not write that song thinking y’all would dance like that! Do I need to rewrite the lyrics to match?”

Everyone turned to look at him, laughter in their voices. Yunho’s eyes darted between yours and Mingi’s. “You should. There’s some pretty steamy stuff there.”

You flushed, leaning forward to hide your face with your plate. “It’s nothing. We’re just doing our job.”

San shook his head. “Not anymore,” he murmured, grinning smugly. “Look at you.”

You turned back to look at him, blinking as he pointed at you and Mingi. “What?”

“I’m not blind. You’re both looking at each other like you wanna jump each other’s bones.”

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, making you turn back to your meal.

Mingi coughed lightly. “There is nothing between us, okay?”

“Uh huh. Sure,” Seonghwa said, sounding skeptical. “We wouldn’t want to ruin this precious friendship of ours.”

“Mingi is my friend,” you protested, even though you knew you were fighting a losing battle.

“Well… I am glad that you are friends with someone like Mingi.” Hongjoong smirked. “I’m still changing those lyrics.”

You sighed, picking at your food. All around you, people were talking about the performance, wondering whether or not you guys would pull it off successfully. Eventually, Jiae cleared her throat loudly, bringing everyone’s attention back to her. “Should we take the day off tomorrow? We’ve all been working hard, and we should give ourselves a break.”

Everyone voiced their approval and began talking about their plans for tomorrow. You glanced over at Mingi, noticing that he seemed tired too. It made sense considering that you had practiced for hours and hours since the morning. Maybe it was time to call it quits and call it a day.

You stood, stretching your limbs carefully. The soreness in your thighs caused you to wince and you rubbed at them absently. “My body is aching.”

“After what you two were doing?” Wooyoung called out, the others snickering. “I think it’s a miracle you can stand straight.”

“Get a room,” Sera, the other dancer in your group, added playfully, nudging Aimee, the main vocalist. Both girls burst into giggles.

“Eonnie, you have to admit that your dancing was different than usual.” Aimee grinned slyly. “Very different. Admit it. You always wanted to do a sexy song, huh?”

You pouted at her. “Nope. Not admitting anything.”

Her grin widened. “Ah, Eonnie. Can I ask you something?”

“If you must,” you grumbled.

She gave you an innocent look before leaning in and whispering to you and the other girls. “Do you like Mingi?”

The other girls turned to look at you with wide eyes, most of them asking the same question. You fiddled with your hands nervously, frowning at Aimee. She had a strange gleam in her eye and you wondered if she was joking or not. “Like him as a friend? Yeah, of course. Why?”

Aimee huffed. “Not what I meant and you know that.”

“And if something happens, you’ll be the first to know.” You said, the girl beaming happily. “Okay?”

“Deal.”

You paused for a moment, watching as everyone got up to leave the studio, leaving you and Mingi behind. “So… we finished practicing today? Are you heading home now?”

“Not yet. There’s this part I want to try before I go home. Do you want to come?”

The offer came as a surprise, but you accepted nonetheless. Mingi wanted to continue practicing? So be it. He must have been feeling ambitious.

You told the girls that you and Mingi were going to continue training, receiving several questions from everyone, including how you felt about him, if you were attracted to him and if you would sleep with him. Finally, you convinced everyone to leave you two alone.

Mingi’s bandmates asked him the same questions when he told them about continuing to practice. But despite their initial shock, they didn’t protest much. In fact, Hongjoong laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. “Make sure you use protection if you end up fucking each other. I’m still changing those lyrics for y’all.”

Mingi only laughed, smiling gently as the others filed out of the room. The empty studio fell silent, except for the sound of your breathing and the humming coming from the speakers in the background. As much as you loved the music, you could feel Mingi staring at you, studying every inch of your body. Slowly, he reached out, placing a gentle hand on your hip. His touch sends shivers through your body, and you let out a soft gasp, nearly dropping your bag in shock.

“Don’t freak out,” he said softly, his fingers tightening slightly around your hip. “I won’t hurt you.”

You nodded slowly, but found it difficult to speak. What was happening? Why did his touch affect you so much? This never happened when you worked with him before. But here, right now, everything about him felt familiar. Like you had known him forever. Your heart started racing and your palms grew sweaty. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Okay,” you whispered.

His touch remained firm, pulling you tight against his body. His chest pressed against your back, he held out his phone as you watched the demo choreography. “Okay for this part, it looks like this. But I think we should be closer. To give it that intimate feeling.”

You frowned, watching the dancers on the screen as they continued moving closer together. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that it might work. Granted the dancers didn't move that close to each other during the performance, but maybe, just maybe, having Mingi hold you like this will add an extra layer of sensuality to the performance.

You watched as the dancers were supposed to grind against each other and you couldn't help but wrap an arm around his neck, allowing your hand to brush against his cheek. "Close enough?"

"Yeah,” he breathed, his chest vibrating as he laughed quietly. “Perfect."

Your gaze lowered to his lips and you swallowed thickly. "Good."

Mingi chuckled. "Let's see how well you can follow directions then."

You whimpered softly, shifting your hips, arching your back as you tried to mimic what the dancers on the screen were doing. Mingi trailed his fingers along your skin, causing goosebumps to rise across your arms. "More. Less. More. That's better. A little lower. Okay, good. Good. Keep going."

He trailed his fingers along your sides, following the curves and valleys of your body. Your hips rolled in response, seeking out his touch. A low groan escaped his lips and you moaned, grinding your hips against his groin. With another chuckle, he captured your chin with his fingers, turning your face upwards to meet his gaze. "Much better."

Too close. He was way too close. And it wasn't helping your libido any. "Mingi…"

"Not yet," he said huskily. "I've got plans for you later. But for now, let me show you how it's done. Come here."

Your heart leapt into your throat and you shook your head, stuttering. "Y-you can't."

He laughed, amusement glinting in his eyes. "Of course I can. Don't you want to learn how to do this right?"

"No."

"Yes," he said, pressing himself firmly against you, forcing you to remain exactly where you were. His erection was hard and hot against your ass and you pushed back, causing him to laugh again.

"Come on, you're doing great," he encouraged, nuzzling your earlobe with his nose. "Just like that. I'll teach you. No one has to know."

In truth, you weren't sure why you hesitated. The idea of being intimate with him sounded enticing and after spending countless hours working on the song with him, you kind of wanted to know what it was like to have sex with him. At least you hoped it would feel similar to the way you imagined it would feel. You squirmed, wanting desperately to reach back and undo his pants. To release his throbbing cock. The thought of him pounding into you made your insides clench. "Oh God."

"What are you thinking about?" he murmured against your ear, nibbling lightly at your lobe.

"You."

He chuckled. "What about me?"

You shook your head. "Not telling you. It's private."

His smile faltered. "You aren't attracted to me, are you?"

You blinked, startled by the sudden change in topic. "Huh? No! Of course not!"

He paused, running a finger down your spine. "But you were thinking about it. About us having sex."

"I was not." You huffed. "Stop reading my mind."

"It doesn't mean I can't read your thoughts." He placed a gentle kiss against your temple. "You want this as badly as I do."

"You..." You looked at him. "You want this too?"

Mingi laughed. "Baby, haven't you realized the effects you have on me when you press yourself against me?"

You flushed, your cheeks growing warmer as he nipped at your jawline.

"We can stop if you don't want to do this anymore." He offered you a tentative smile.

"That's not fair." You said quietly, looking up at him with soft eyes. "You can't expect us to stop after you've gotten me all hot and bothered."

"True." He chuckled, resting his forehead against yours. "Maybe we should take things slow tonight. Maybe you should let me fuck you, one day. If you ever want me to."

"What about after we successfully finish the project?" You breathed out, his lips awfully close to yours. "We can sneak off right after we finish performing and Yunho and his team goes on stage."

"Really?"

"Yeah..."

"Damn, you're tempting me, baby." He groaned, nipping playfully at your lower lip. "Can I kiss you until then? Please?"

It took you all of five seconds to nod, closing the distance between your lips. His mouth crushed against yours, hot and demanding. You parted your lips for him, letting him slide his tongue inside your mouth. Before you knew it, you were kissing him back eagerly, your entire body heating up with desire. He broke away for a second, cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking the side of your face gently. You sighed contently, letting him draw small circles on your cheekbone.

"Shouldn't we be practicing our dance moves instead?" You mumbled into his mouth.

"Later." He pulled back, breaking contact with your lips. "Kissing first, then dancing. Okay?"

You returned home to the dorms well after midnight when your members rushed towards the front door, yelling about you and Mingi. Well, there went any chance you had of getting some shut eye.

Aimee latched onto your arm and dragged you to the living room. "Eonnie, something happened right?"

"What did you and Mingi get up to after we all left?" Jiae asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Did you two kiss?" Ari leaned forward, curiously.

You bit your lip, looking away in response. The other members exchanged glances. Sera took in your appearance, noting your slightly disheveled hair.

"Oh, you lucky bitch. You and Mingi totally kissed." She grinned. "How was it? Was he good at it?"

You let out a small nod, your cheeks burning bright red. "He was amazing."

Jiae giggled. "Seriously?"

"Yes," you insisted. "He kissed really well."

The other members exchanged glances once again. "Was it...?" Aimee began, holding her hand up. "Were you guys… sexually active? Did he…?"

You shot her a glare. "Of course not!"

"Wow, Aimee." Jiae shook her head, folding her arms across her chest. "You always choose the most awkward ways to ask these questions."

"Even if I'm having sex, I'm not telling you guys." You stuck out your tongue at them. "I might not be leader but I am older than all of you and I have the eldest sister rights, remember?"

Sera let out a loud snort, rolling her eyes. "I knew someone was going to kiss someone this time around. We've been working with the guys throughout the years. I had a feeling it would be you and San though. But Mingi...wow."

Jiae nodded her agreement. "He is fucking gorgeous, isn't he? And so talented. I bet he's amazing in bed too."

"Hush." You waved your hand in front of her face. "Don't start."

"Aww, eonnie." Ari pouted, grabbing onto your hand. "I'm happy for you. Really. I am."

Jiae let out a sigh. "I guess I'll have to make peace with the fact that you guys are dating then."

"Hey, who said anything about dating?"

Jiae smirked. "Aren't you?"

"I'm actually not sure." You sighed. "We haven't exactly got to talking while we made out, you know."

Aimee nodded slowly. "Well, even if you aren't dating him, you still kissed him. That counts as you liking him."

"I'm going to head to bed." You muttered, standing from the couch.

"Oh no." Aimee grabbed onto your wrist. "Where are you going?"

"To sleep. Like everyone else."

"But we have the day off tomorrow!" Ari exclaimed.

"I know, I know." You nodded. "But I've been dancing all day and I'm exhausted. I'll treat you all to food, okay? Eldest sister rights and all that."

Jiae gave you a sly grin. "Okay. But don't blame us if we buy the most expensive food, tomorrow."

"I won't." You smiled brightly. "Sleep tight, guys."

You waved goodbye before leaving the living room. Once you reached your bedroom, you stripped off your clothes quickly and crawled under the covers, reaching for the phone you kept next to your bedside table. You checked your messages just to be safe, surprised to find one waiting for you.

Mingi - Sleeping? Call me.

You brought up his contact and decided to facetime him instead. He picked up in a matter of seconds. He was in his bed and you noticed that he was shirtless, lying flat on his back. "Finally."

"Sorry. My members were grilling me with questions. Not a minute passed without someone asking something."

"If it makes you feel better, the guys all asked me the same thing." He laughed as he sat up in bed. "Asking all sorts of questions."

"Ha ha, I bet they did." You smiled, leaning back on your pillows. "So what did they ask?"

"Mostly about us, our relationship and stuff." He shrugged. "And yes, the sleeping thing was probably the worst question."

"We'll get to that one later." You glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. 1am. "Did you eat dinner?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "Seonghwa-hyung left some food out for me. Did you eat?"

"I ate. Not much though. Couldn't really eat when the girls were being so nosy."

"Tell me about it." He agreed, running his fingers through his messy hair. "Since we're off tomorrow...would you be interested in doing something together? Just you and me?"

"Song Mingi. Are you asking me out? On a date?"

"Sort of." He replied. "We don't need to go on an actual date to spend time together. Just us hanging out would be fine."

"You know I'd spend time with you anywhere, anytime." You assured him. "I wouldn't turn down an opportunity to see you."

"Ahh...what is your pretty little brain thinking about? Do tell."

"Nothing." You laughed softly. "My brain is busy processing your request."

"So cute." He laughed. "Are you alone right now?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I have my own room. Oldest sister rights."

"Good." He sighed. "Tell me...what are you wearing to bed right now?"

"Mingi, seriously?"

"What?" He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at you. "Is it inappropriate? Come on, babe. Indulge me. Don't hold back."

You rolled your eyes. "Fine. I'm wearing a t-shirt and shorts."

He let out a long breath. "Wow."

"Okay, that wasn't what I expected." You teased.

"I thought you would wear some skimpy nightie or something." He said honestly. "Something lacy."

"Maybe when I move out from the dorms." You grinned. "Can't risk the girls barging in here if we were to have phone sex or whatever else we were planning to do."

"Look at you planning ahead. So mature."

"Shut up."

"Anyways…" He paused. "You're not wearing underwear under your sleeping clothes, right?"

"I swear Mingi. You're such a perv. What are YOU wearing to bed?"

"Pajamas pants." He said as he adjusted the sheets around his waist to show you the waistband of his pajama pants. "See?"

"Those are-" You cleared your throat. "They look great."

"Thanks." He said with a shy smile. "Anyway, you still have to answer my question."

"You still want to know if I'm wearing underwear or not?"

"Yep."

"Fine but I'll show you instead." You lifted your t-shirt up to show him. "I'm not wearing anything underneath."

He sucked in a breath, staring intently at your bare breasts through the camera. "Oh, fuck."

"Glad you like them." You rolled your eyes. "I'll put my top back down if you promise not to touch yourself."

He raised his eyebrows. "Not a guarantee that I won't. You got great tits."

"Mmm... Well if you do decide to touch yourself, send me a picture."

He groaned loudly. "Are you done teasing me yet?"

"No." You shook your head, grinning. "Why?"

"Because it's going to be hard to not fuck you until after our performance. I've already been thinking about it ever since we kissed earlier."

"You can think about it now. I'll show you how hot I am in person." You promised.

He let out a soft chuckle. "That will be fun. In the meantime, how about you put your top back down and talk to me?"

"Deal."

It was finally time for the performance to begin and you stood backstage, waiting anxiously to take the stage. Sera, San, Wooyoung and Yeosang were currently on stage, performing their latest hit. They seemed confident, full of energy and having a blast on stage. Seeing that only helped to relieve some of your stress. You couldn't help but notice Jiae, Hongjoong and Seonghwa sitting together as they discussed strategy. Ari and Yunho sat next to each other, whispering quietly to each other as they waited for their cue. Aimee and Jongho watched the crowd closely, making sure everything was running smoothly.

Mingi was standing next to you, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. His voice was soft as he spoke. "You ready?"

"Yeah." You nodded, giving him a quick smile. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"Then I hope we don't disappoint." He chuckled lightly.

Your nerves suddenly disappeared as soon as you took the stage. Everyone in the audience cheered loudly and welcomed you with open arms. All eyes were on you as you walked onto the dance floor. The rest of the backup dancers took their positions behind you as the music started playing. You heard the soft, sensual beat fill the room as you moved gracefully to the rhythm.

Your body moved naturally to the music, your hips swaying with every step. Your vocals were flawless and sensual as they flowed into the lyrics. You closed your eyes, letting the music flow through you. And when Mingi finally joined you, touched you, sang and rapped to you, the butterflies in your stomach started fluttering again. You felt electrified by the passion that pulsed between the two of you, as your hands caressed each other, bodies pressed tightly against one another. The heat from his skin warmed yours and it only served to drive you wilder. You were overcome with desire and you needed more than just the physical release. You needed the intense connection, the heart stopping emotions and mind blowing ecstasy that you both had the ability to give each other.

You had barely finished singing the last note before you pulled away, almost breathless. Your cheeks flushed red as the crowd applauded wildly. As soon as the music stopped, you turned to look at Mingi. He was panting heavily as he stared at you, his lips parted slightly. He smiled, causing your heart to skip a beat. The moment was magical and completely perfect. It was like nothing you had experienced before and you hoped it never ended.

You both left the stage as the host called for an interim break before the rest of the group were to perform.

"Damn..." You heard Wooyoung mutter from behind you. "Y/N and Mingi look good together. Really fucking good."

The guys glanced over at the two of you. "They really are amazing." Yeosang admitted, giving you a small wink.

"You guys are dating, right?" Jongho asked. "Because with that performance, there's no way you guys aren't. Anyone can tell."

"Are we?" You looked at Mingi, expectantly.

"Are we?" He mimicked your words, his eyes twinkling playfully. "Well…do we have to say 'yes' to this kind of questioning?"

"Please do." San groaned. "This shit has gone on long enough."

"Whatever. Look at them." Seonghwa scoffed, pointing at the two of you. "Just admit that you're boyfriend and girlfriend already. We'll accept that."

"We are." Mingi said simply, looking directly at you.

Your face lit up as your heart melted at those simple words. There were no doubts anymore. The answer was clear. He wanted you, you wanted him and you knew there was no going back. Everything was perfectly right.

"I'm so happy for you eonnie!" Ari exclaimed. "You guys look amazing together! No wonder you guys make such a great couple."

"Thank you." You smiled, blushing brightly. "It's not like we didn't try to deny it for so long but sometimes things just work out."

"True." She nodded. "I'm glad everything worked out."

"Same here." Sera agreed. "But honestly, I always saw you two together."

"Yeah right." You laughed. "Few weeks ago, you thought me and San would look good together. And that's just the tip of the iceberg."

"Hey, you guys started this mess." Mingi argued. "We just finished it."

Sera rolled her eyes. "God, I wish I could pull you two apart."

You snickered as you turned to look at the others. "Someone needs to. Mingi looks like he's plotting something."

"Who knows what he's thinking?" Yunho mused. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think he wants to fuck Y/N up against a wall somewhere."

"You are disgusting." You laughed.

Mingi grabbed your hand. "I mean..."

Hongjoong looked at your entwined hands and let out a laugh. "Oh god. You two are hopelessly in love. Go on and get your freak on. You guys aren't needed no more."

Mingi whispered into your ear. "Yours or mine?"

"Wherever as long as I have you." You whispered back.

"Works for me." He replied, pulling you closer.

"Bye bye!" Aimee waved at the two of you as she passed you in the hallway.

"Later guys." You called out.

"Bye." Everyone else echoed.

Once the hallway was empty, you leaned in close to Mingi's ear. "So..." You began. "About tonight..."

"Let's get to my place first and then we can discuss the details, babe." He smirked.

"Details?"

"Like what position we're going to fuck in, how many times we're going to fuck and whether we're doing anal." He explained.

"God, you're such a perv." You rolled your eyes. "And we're definitely NOT doing anal."

"You say that now..." He trailed off.

"We'll see." You teased. "Now take me home, Song Mingi."

He laughed. "Always the bossy one, huh? But since you ask so nicely..."

He led you outside and to his car where he held the door open for you. Once inside, he slipped his hand inside the small of your back and gave you a gentle kiss on the lips. "Enjoy the ride."

"I will." You grinned.

His arm wrapped around your shoulders as he drove you to his apartment. The city lights illuminated the windows, bathing the interior in a soft light. Before you knew it, you arrived at the front door and he opened it for you.

"Wow." You breathed, stepping inside.

"What is it?"

"Everything." You sighed, taking it all in. "I'm surprised that you and the guys have such a clean apartment."

"Thank you." He hummed, sliding his hand under your tight dress and cupping your ass cheek. "As much as I love seeing you wearing this outfit, I very much want you out of it. How about I take care of that little problem right now?"

You squealed when he lifted you in his arms and carried you into his bedroom. "Mingi, what if Seonghwa and San come home?"

"No one will be home until tomorrow morning." He growled, setting you on your feet. "Besides, who could possibly walk in on us right now?"

"You sound so sure about that." You eyed him suspiciously.

"Trust me, baby." He assured you. "No one can stop us."

He stepped towards you, pressing your back against the wall. He slowly unzipped your dress, slipping it over your head as he lowered his mouth to yours. You moaned softly as his lips met yours. His tongue delved deep into your mouth, stroking and teasing as he explored your entire mouth.

He reached up and massaged your breasts through your lacy black bra. He squeezed and kneaded your flesh as his hands wandered downwards, squeezing your ass cheeks. "Mmm...so round and firm." He purred against your neck. "How do you feel in these panties?"

"Why do you ask?" You breathed out.

"Because I want to rip them off of you." He told you. "I want to taste you. Do you want that too?"

"Yes..." You whimpered, your body begging for more.

He released your nipples, leaving them tingling as he moved his hands back up to cup your face. His thumb grazed over your bottom lip as he stared down at you. "You know, I've been dreaming about having sex with you for months now."

"Really?" You gasped. "Since when?"

"Ever since the last time we collaborated on a project. Every single day, all night, I kept imagining myself fucking you against this wall." He paused, staring at you. "Or maybe even fucking you in this bed."

"Hmm...it seems like we both got what we wanted." You mused.

"That we did." He nodded. "Come here, babe. Let me show you how thankful I am for all the nights that I imagined fucking you."

Your breathing hitched as he stood before you, slowly taking off his clothes. You watched him with hooded eyes, taking in every inch of his hard muscled form. You ached to be underneath him and explore every inch of his toned body with your hands and your mouth. You wanted to run your fingers through his thick hair and hear his voice begging you to touch him. With his long, beautiful legs and his strong arms and his… Oh god, you couldn't think straight anymore. All you wanted was him and you wouldn't think twice about giving yourself completely to him. You were dying to taste him and to feel his dick deep inside you.

He was breathtaking and you wished that you could freeze frame the moment, making sure that it stayed frozen forever. He placed a hand behind your head, guiding you forward as he kissed you again. Your hands rested on his chest as he pressed himself harder against you.

He broke the kiss as he pushed your underwear to the side, freeing your pussy from its confines. He pushed a finger inside you, making you gasp. "Fuck..." He breathed. "So wet."

He thrust his finger deeper inside of you as he pressed your back against the wall. You bit your lip as you tried to fight the pleasure building within you. He groaned as he added another finger, stretching you out. You arched your back, trying to get more of him inside you.

He pulled his fingers out and trailed his finger over your swollen clit. "Suck it, babe." He commanded. You felt yourself lean forwards, eager to give him what he desired. When you felt his finger slip into your mouth, you sucked hungrily, tasting yourself on his digit.

"Fuck, you're so hot." He groaned when you released his finger from your mouth with a pop. You moved his fingers back to your pussy, pushing them inside you.

“Ah fuck.” Mingi grunted as he shoved his fingers deep inside of you. “You’re soaking wet, baby. Fuck.”

He started moving his fingers in and out of you, gently circling your clit with his thumb. "You're driving me crazy, Y/N." He groaned. "I need to feel your sweet cunt wrapped around my dick."

"Me too, MIngi." You sighed. "Let's hurry this up so I can finally have you."

"Oh god, baby." He moaned as he kissed your shoulder. "You're so damn hot."

He pushed a third finger inside of you and you whimpered, feeling stretched out by the invasion. "You're so fucking tight." He groaned. "Damn, baby."

He slid a fourth finger inside of you, his thumb circling your clit. His other hand gripped your hips tightly, forcing you to lift your ass up slightly. As he pushed his fingers further inside of you, you moaned loudly, loving the way he filled you up.

He fucked you with his fingers in a steady rhythm. He kissed your shoulder and trailed his lips along your collarbone. "Tell me how you feel." He demanded.

"God..." You breathed. "Mingi, I can't..."

"You can, babe." He reassured you. "Tell me."

"It feels amazing." You panted. "Please, don't stop."

"Okay." He nodded, continuing to finger-fuck you. "Tell me more, baby."

"Oh god...Mingi...please..." You begged. "I can't take much more of this."

"Are you close?" He asked, trailing kisses across your jawline.

"God, yes." You cried out. "Please, don't stop, Mingi! Please! Ah! Fuck!"

"Oh shit, babe." He groaned, thrusting his fingers faster and deeper inside of you. "Come all over my fingers. Come for me, baby."

With his free hand, he cupped your breast and pinched your nipple lightly. He heard you cry out in pleasure and bit your neck, eliciting a yelp from you. He increased the pressure on your clit, plunging his fingers in and out of you as fast as possible. You screamed out his name as your orgasm ripped through your body. It seemed like an eternity before the pleasure subsided. You sagged limply against him, panting heavily. Mingi pressed a kiss to your shoulder, kissing his way upwards to your ear.

"How was that, baby?" He whispered.

"Amazing." You smiled, reaching for his hand and leading him to his bed. "And now I need you to fuck me. Be inside me."

He chuckled as he laid you down on the bed. He moved between your legs, parting them and spreading them wide. He gazed down at you, his eyes roving over your body. "Beautiful." He murmured.

"Mingi..." You whispered.

"Get on all fours, baby." He instructed. "Hands and knees."

You obeyed, bending over slightly so that your ass stuck up in the air. He grasped your hips firmly, holding you still as he rubbed his cockhead up and down your slit. "Baby, I'm gonna fuck you good tonight." He groaned. "Real good."

"Yesss." You moaned, digging your nails into the mattress. "Please, fuck me."

"Is this what you want?" He teased, gliding his cock along your slick folds. "Do you want me to fuck you good?"

"Oh god..." You gasped, closing your eyes and opening your legs wider. "I want you so bad. I want to feel you inside me. Give it to me, Mingi."

He groaned, burying his dick in your dripping wet pussy. You cried out in pleasure, feeling the warm friction of his shaft rubbing against your walls. He began to pump his hips, slowly pulling out of you only to push his dick deep inside again. "Oh, you feel so good." He groaned. "Perfect."

"Mingi, you feel so good. So big and warm." You moaned as he moved his hips back and forth, fucking you steadily. He leaned forward to grab your breasts, his lips trailing soft kisses down your neck. "Oh, fuck...I love how you feel inside me."

"Fuck, babe." He groaned. "Look at you. That's it, just like that. You feel so good."

"Fuck, your cock feels so good in me." You moaned. "God, please, keep doing that. Keep hitting that spot. Fuck me with your cock."

"Oh, yeah, babe." He groaned. "You really like that, don't you? I can tell. So fucking hot. You like getting fucked hard, don't you, baby?"

"Fuck, I love it." You gasped. "Please Mingi."

"What do you want, baby?" He asked.

"More." You moaned. "Please fuck me harder."

He slammed his dick into you, increasing the pace and depth of his strokes. You whimpered as he continued to move, pounding his dick inside of you relentlessly. He growled as he stared down at you, watching as your body arched and bucked beneath him. Your tits jiggled wildly as he continued to fuck you with abandon.

"Oh god..." You moaned, gripping onto the sheets. "Oh god, Mingi...oh god...oh god...Mingi, fuck me, fuck me!"

"Shit." He grunted, slamming into you harder than ever before. "Fuck, that's right. Yeah. Oh shit, babe. You’re taking me in so well."

He reached around to stroke your clit as he continued to pound into you. You threw your head back and let out a loud moan, your whole body quivering as you came. The orgasm caused him to jerk forward, pushing his dick all the way inside of you and leaving you breathless. "Fuck." He groaned, pumping his cum inside of you.

"Mingi..." You gasped, catching your breath. "That was...wow."

He pulled out of you and rolled you over so that you were on your back now. He kissed your neck softly, running his tongue along your skin. "Did you like it?" He asked.

"Yes." You answered, closing your eyes and smiling happily.

"Good." He grinned. "I knew you would."

"Mingi..." You breathed, shifting under him.

"I know what you want, babe." He said softly.

"Yeah? What is it?" You asked.

"Round two." He slid into you again, slowly and easily. "And then maybe we'll go get some food. Or sleep. Whichever comes first."

[ninyard]

i am in my renee and andrew besties 4eva era rn (when am i not honestly..) and was wondering if u have any headcanons u’d like to share about them? <3 i love ur brain dude!!

Here’s something:

After thanksgiving, when Andrew has returned from Easthaven, he invites Renee for a sparring session. Renee agrees, and everyone tells her to be careful, that he’s different, that he’s unmedicated and scary and if she thinks she’s in danger she needs to yell for help. She thanks them for their concern with a tight smile and tries to hold back an unfortunately bitter eye roll when her back turns to them. Her and Andrew find their way to wherever it is they usually spar - an empty room? A parking lot?

But when they get there, Andrew doesn’t start. He usually does, with some annoying move that almost always trips her up, but this time he stands in front of her with this blank and bored look in her eyes.

Are you okay? She thinks, but she knows she can’t say it out loud.

The thing about Renee and Andrew, in my opinion, why they work, is they each can recognise themselves in each other. Renee can read Andrew better than he probably thinks that she can, and she gathered a lot about his past purely from insinuations and little comments made here and there. I don’t think she knew who Drake was, but when she heard what happened, and she heard foster father, and she heard Luther’s name mentioned, she knows exactly what the history is there. Andrew doesn’t open up to her like he does to Bee or Neil, but he does share with her the scrapings off the top of his story. When she shared her past with him, she saw the look in his eyes, the shadow that passed over his gaze, and knew what had happened to him. She knew what his questioning meant, the curiosity he held over the things she'd been through. The pieces fit together perfectly, in her opinion, the pieces that told her exactly why Andrew trusted her so much once she'd told him.

“Good or bad?” Renee asks him. She’s talking about Easthaven, his time there, but he doesn’t quite catch on. He rolls his wrist in a circular motion to gesture for her to continue. “The hospital.”

“Bad,” he says. “They weren’t very good at their jobs.”

Renee feels her heart in her throat at his monotonous and unemotional delivery. She also sees that look in his eyes again, this time unsheltered and unprotected by the cloud of medicated mania that usually covered it up.

“Power trip or opportunity?” She asks.

She knows all too well how it feels to be poorly treated by medical staff or authorities as someone who frequently ran into both in her youth. Andrew seems to understand her question, and runs his finger over the lightly raised outline of a knife beneath his arm bands.

"Both and neither." Andrew says. His eyes are tired, and for just a moment Renee finds herself almost... startled? For just a moment, it feels as if she is looking into the eyes of a stranger, stood in front of him, with no smile on his face and no wild look in his eyes. Renee realises that she's never seen Andrew like this before.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks, as she’s prepping herself or tying up her hair. She notices how he hesitates.

Andrew doesn’t say anything, but still he doesn’t pursue the start of a fight. He doesn’t step forward to start the session, so Renee doesn’t start either.

“I get it, if you wanted to,” Renee offers, and Andrew looks at her, and his face says I’m not sure that you do. “I know you’ll talk to Betsy. I’m just offering an ear if you need to get anything off your chest.”

“Are you against killing medical professionals?” He says as he shakes himself out to take position. Renee smiles as she matches him.

“I’m against killing anybody these days,” she laughs. “But no, not if they deserved it. Keep that one between us.”

They fight for a while, but Andrew runs out of energy slightly quicker than usual. Renee wishes she could see something in him, some answer, some feeling now that his feelings were finally his own again, but each time she catches his eyes she is only met with this vast emotionless void. Renee naively hopes that with each step he takes, each fist he throws, that maybe he will finally be angry. Looking at him, knowing what he'd been through, imagining what had happened in Easthaven, she wishes he would scream and curse the world for the way it had treated him. It was a thought born from the old Renee, that much was clear. A thought founded in spite and revenge, born from fiery resentment and anger. Renee thinks Andrew deserves to kill each and every person who has felt entitled to him and his body. She would tuck her cross necklace beneath her blouse and go to confession afterwards, but she also knows she'd be right there with him.

[estellan0vella]

Tiny Tim Returns Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU Pt1

You’re standing behind the counter of the parlour, enjoying the rare quiet moment. The shop is filled with the faint buzzing of tattoo machines and the distant laughter of Megumi and Yuji playing in the corner.

Sukuna, Gojo, Geto, and Toji are out on a supply run, leaving you to watch over the place. As you glance around, ensuring everything is in order, the bell above the door chimes, signalling a new arrival.

Your heart skips a beat as you recognize the man stepping inside. It’s the same guy who attempted to rob the place just a week ago. He scans the room with narrowed eyes, clearly expecting to find the heavy hitters who usually keep watch.

“Megumi, Yuji, go to the back office and lock the door,” you say calmly, your gaze never leaving the intruder.

“But, Y/N/N—” Yuji begins, concern etched on his young face.

“Now,” you repeat firmly, cutting off any further protest. Reluctantly, the boys comply, exchanging worried glances as they disappear into the back room.

As the door clicks shut, Ren, one of your regulars and a biker with a heart of gold, steps out from behind a booth. He’s been chatting with you while waiting for the guys to return and watches the unfolding scene with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

“What are you gonna do without your guard dogs?” the robber sneers, attempting to sound intimidating but failing miserably.

“I have Ren,” you reply nonchalantly, nodding towards the biker who raises an eyebrow in response.

Ren chuckles, leaning casually against the counter. “Yeah, I’ve got a soft spot for Y/N and the kids. Not that she needs any protecting.”

The robber tries to assert dominance by stepping closer, but you hold your ground, unphased. “You might want to check the sign,” you say, gesturing towards the window decal that reads, ‘No Guns Allowed. Seriously, We’ll Laugh In Your Face.’

“That sign’s in your honour,” you add with a smirk.

Ren lets out a hearty laugh. “I remember when they put that up. Good times.”

The robber’s face reddens with anger. “Is it medically diagnosed as microscopic?” you ask, feigning concern.

Ren snorts, adding, “Did the girls laugh at you in school?”

Undeterred by the robber’s growing frustration, you continue with playful banter. “You’re a Freudian case ready to be studied.”

“Does the gun make you feel like a big man when you point it at a woman?” Ren chimes in, thoroughly enjoying the exchange.

“Let me guess your name. It’s Tiny Tim, right?” you say, barely managing to stifle a laugh.

“Do you need a hug?” Ren asks, spreading his arms wide.

“I’m sure we could get you laid down on the couch and give you a teddy bear,” you suggest with mock sympathy.

Before the tension can escalate further, the door swings open and Sukuna, Gojo, Geto, and Toji stride back in. Relief floods through you, but you maintain your composed demeanour.

“Well, well, well,” Sukuna says, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he eyes the robber. “Look who’s back. Think you’re a big man because you waited until it was just my girl and two kids?”

“I had Ren here,” you point out, crossing your arms confidently.

Toji nods in greeting to Ren. “Nice to see you, Ren.”

“Hey, man,” Ren replies with a nod.

“Someone needs to learn their lesson,” Sukuna says, stepping forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Don’t hurt him, poor thing,” you interject with a theatrical sigh. “He’s just confused. Why don’t you make him pretty instead?”

The guys exchange amused glances before dragging the robber over to a chair. Gojo pulls out his piercing kit with a grin, his movements precise and almost artistic.

“I think he needs a few more holes,” Gojo remarks, piercing the robber’s face multiple times.

Sukuna, always the creative one, tattoos ‘I’m an idiot’ on the man’s forehead. “There, now everyone will know,” he says with a smirk.

Toji and Geto join in, tattooing crude drawings on the robber’s cheeks. You glance up from your magazine, a mischievous idea forming.

“How about ‘I cry in the shower’ written across his neck?” you suggest, a playful glint in your eyes.

“My girl’s a genius,” Sukuna praises, adding the new inscription with a flourish.

When they’re done, the robber is a sight to behold—a chaotic canvas of piercings and humiliating tattoos. Ren watches the spectacle with entertained fascination, leaning againt the counter. 

“You’ve got a free tattoo card to cash in whenever you want one,” Sukuna tells Ren.

Ren nods, a grateful smile on his face. “Thanks, Sukuna. I might take you up on that free tattoo one of these days. As long as Y/N’s designing.”

"Are you sure you don't want one of the guys?" You grin, gesturing to the robber. "They've done a magnificent job"

Sukuna, Gojo, Geto, and Toji all glance at each other, their mischievous grins widening as they take in the sight of the now thoroughly humiliated robber. The buzzing of the tattoo machines fills the air as they admire their handiwork.

“Well, babe, I’m glad your tits are okay,” Sukuna says, giving you a once-over with a smirk.

Gojo nods in agreement, his expression mock-serious. “Yeah, couldn’t let anything happen to those.”

“Priorities, right?” Geto adds, winking at you.

Toji just chuckles, adding his own line. “We'd be lost without them.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “My heroes,” you say, giving a sarcastic little bow. “What would I do without you?”

The door to the back office creaks open, and Yuji and Megumi peek out cautiously. When they see the situation is under control, they step out, their eyes widening as they take in the sight of the robber.

Yuji’s face lights up with delight. “He’s got willies on his face!” he exclaims, pointing at the crude drawings that Toji and Geto had tattooed.

Megumi bursts into laughter, holding his sides. “He looks so stupid!”

The adults can’t help but join in, the room filling with the sound of hearty laughter. The robber, now thoroughly humiliated and realizing the gravity of his mistake, squirms in his seat, trying to avoid eye contact.

Ren, still leaning casually against the counter, chuckles. “You boys sure know how to make a statement.”

“Only the best for our favourite customers,” Sukuna replies, giving Ren a friendly clap on the shoulder. “And for my girl.”

You smile at Sukuna, feeling a warm rush of affection. “Thanks, Kuna. You always know how to handle things.”

Sukuna grins back at you. “Anything for you, babe.”

Yuji, not missing a beat, runs up to Sukuna and hugs his leg. “Suku, that was awesome!”

Sukuna ruffles his little brother’s hair affectionately. “Glad you think so, kiddo. Now, how about we get some ice cream to celebrate?”

The boys cheer in agreement, their earlier fear completely forgotten. You shake your head with a smile, marvelling at how quickly they bounce back.

As the group begins to disperse, Ren gives you a nod. “I’ll catch you later, Y/N. Don’t forget about that free tattoo.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you reply with a wink. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”

Sukuna wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “You handled that like a pro, babe.”

You lean into him, feeling safe and content. “Well, I’ve got the best team backing me up.”

“Damn right you do,” Gojo says, grinning. “And don’t you forget it.”

Yuji tugs at Sukuna’s sleeve. “Can we go now, Suku? I want chocolate!”

Sukuna laughs, scooping Yuji up into his arms. “Alright, alright. Ice cream it is. Let’s get out of here.”

As you all head towards the door, you glance back at the robber one last time. He’s still sitting in the chair, looking thoroughly defeated and adorned with his new, embarrassing tattoos.

“You should probably find a new line of work,” you suggest with a smirk. “Something that doesn’t involve robbing tattoo parlours.”

The robber groans audibly, burying his face in his hands as Toji and Geto haul him to his feet, escorting him out with a mixture of firmness and amusement.

"Make sure to leave a positive review!" Gojo calls after the man as he runs away.

"I need a drink," You say, stretching your arms above your head as Sukuna locks up the parlour. "That 50s diner place does boozy milkshakes right?"

Sukuna chuckles, nodding in agreement as he locks up the tattoo parlour behind him. "Yeah, they do. And they've got those ridiculous burgers too."

Gojo perks up at the mention of boozy milkshakes. "Count me in. After today, I could definitely use one of those."

"Let's go!" Yuji and Megumi exclaim, their eyes wide at the though of milkshakes.

Together, you head towards the dinger, ready to face whatever comes next, knowing that with your found family by your side, everything will be just fine.

taglist: @sad-darksoul

[trueebeauty]

could you do dating hcs for Gun with sfw + nsfw too, pleaseee (●'◡'●)

SFW - soft, casual

Gun is not one to openly express his emotions. In a relationship, he's the silent observer, always keeping a close eye on your needs and feelings, even if he doesn’t always verbalize it.

He notices the little things about you—how you take your coffee, your favorite way to unwind, and what makes you smile.

Gun’s protective instincts are heightened in a relationship. He ensures your safety and comfort at all times, whether it’s walking you home or stepping in if someone bothers you.

Given his intimidating aura, his presence is often enough to deter any potential threats.

Instead of over-the-top romantic stunts, Gun shows his love through acts of service. He's the kinda guy who'll fix things around your place, handle difficult situations for you, or bring you food when you’re too busy or tired to cook.

He's a man of few words, but Gun cherishes the quieter moments you share, content to bask in comfortable silence without needing constant conversation to fill the air.

Once you have Gun’s trust and affection, his loyalty is unwavering. He’s someone who stands by his partner through thick and thin, offering a strong and dependable presence in your life.

Betrayal is one of the few things that could sever that bond, so honesty and loyalty are non-negotiable in his eyes.

Given his background and expertise, Gun often takes on a mentor-like role in the relationship, especially if you share any of his interests or pursuits. He’s willing to teach and train you, but don’t expect him to go easy on you.

Gun’s expressions of affection are subtle yet deeply meaningful. A gentle touch on your back as you walk together, a rare but sincere smile when you’re alone, or a steadying hand in a crowd.

He might not be outwardly affectionate in public, but in private, his actions speak volumes about his feelings for you.

Gun is physically imposing, and he uses this to his advantage in your relationship. He loves the way you fit against him, whether it's during a comforting hug or while you're both just lounging around.

NSFW - mdni

Gun thrives on being in control and doing things with precision - he loves dominating you and having you at his mercy.

He's an attentive lover who gets a thrill out of exploring what really makes you tick. Every little touch, kiss, or whispered dirty talk that makes you shiver? He lives for that.

While he might not be vocal during intimate moments, his body language speaks volumes. The way he watches you with a dark, intense gaze, the firm grip of his hands on your hips, and the subtle shift in his breathing all express his desires.

He lets his actions do the talking, making each caress and thrust better than the last. With Gun, it's pure passion in motion.

Gun has an incredible sense of stamina and endurance. He can keep up a relentless pace, pushing you both to your physical limits before allowing any release.

Pushing your limits gets him going, but he's always tuned into your responses. He'll take you right to the edge, but knows just how far he can go.

Claiming you as his own is a big turn-on for Gun. Whether it's biting, gripping, or leaving other marks, he can't get enough of those visible reminders that you're his.

It's not just about control though - there's a primal, possessive need driving Gun to mark you as his territory in the most intimate way.

He has no issue taking you against a wall, over a surface, or anywhere that allows him complete access and control over your body.

Once the heat has died down, you get a glimpse of Gun's shockingly gentle side. Underneath that rugged exterior, he's an attentive, caring lover who makes sure you're completely comfortable and satisfied when it's all over.

“Tell me what you want,” he commands softly, his voice low and deep. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Does this feel good?” he murmurs against your neck, “Or should I keep going until you can’t take it anymore?”

He lets out a soft, guttural sound of approval as you arch against him. “Just like that,” he mutters, his hands gripping your waist firmly, guiding your movements.

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 12

I've decided that since I have a fair amount of backlog on the three I've been doing WIP Wednesday for, that I'd post some of them to give me time to work on the rom-com AU more.

I recommend going back and re-reading part 11 at least before reading this one to be on the safe side.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

The Fallen boys need a break and Robin and Chrissy meet up with Nancy.

****

Things were going really well in the studio now that they had Bob Newby as their producer and their studio was closer to home so they could live their normal lives and still be in the studio recording.

It was the happiest the band had been in awhile. Which was why Steve should have seen it coming. The dark cloud on the horizon.

Shane was late.

That wasn’t to say that it was out of the ordinary or whatever, but it was now two hours late and Spence was pissed.

“When I get my hands on his scrawny neck,” he hissed. “I’m going to kill him.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “You’re just upset because it’s means you’ll be late for your date or whatever with Nadia. He’ll be here.”

“That’s not true and you know it, Asmodeus,” Spence bit out. “This is the third time this week and yeah, so what if I have a life outside of this, but that’s not why.”

Just then Shane stumbled in. He looked like absolute shit. His clothes were disheveled, his hair was a mess, and he wore dark sunglasses. Clutched to his chest was a large coffee.

“Fuck...” he mumbled as he shambled over to the sofa. He lowered himself gently onto the thing with a stream of curses. “Sorry I’m late, but my hookup last night turned off my alarm.”

He took a long sip of his coffee and rubbed his temple. He had finished most of the coffee when he realized that no one had said a word since he arrived.

The door opened and Bob and Robin entered the room looking more than a little cross.

Shane flashed them a smile. “Uh oh, it looks like I upset both mom and dad. So I was a little late. It happens.”

“But it shouldn’t be happening,” Spence said with a scowl. “This isn’t the first time. Hell, it’s not even the first time this week.”

Shane frowned, setting his coffee on the floor between his feet. He rubbed his temples as he struggled to think back. “That can’t be right, it’s only Monday, right?”

Everyone shared concerned glances.

“Astraeus,” Steve said slowly, “it’s Thursday.”

Bob crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You were late on Sunday, Monday and today, Astraeus.”

Shane stared up at them in open shock and disbelief. “There’s no way!” He pulled out his phone and looked at the date.

“Shit.”

“What’s been going on, man?” Simon asked, concerned for the first time. He hadn’t realized how often it had been and was giving Spence shit for wanting to be with his girlfriend.

Shane shook his head. “I have money for the first time in my life. I mean proper money. My parents always had enough to make sure we got into the things we wanted; sports, drama, music, you name it, but there wasn’t a lot of money to go around after, you know? I had to pay for my college education myself and I just wanted to live a little. Spread the money around, even if I couldn’t tell them what I did for a living, they don’t really care.”

“I can see that,” Robin said. “I think we all breathing easier, regardless of our backgrounds because the money we’re getting has pretty much set us up for life if it all went to shit tomorrow, which I really wouldn’t recommend, by the way.”

Shane let out a huff of breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “I really didn’t mean to go off like that, I’ll cut back to just the weekends. I promise.”

Robin and Bob shared a glance.

“That’s strike one, Astraeus,” Bob said, “I don’t take slackers lightly. You want me to continue to work for you guys, you’ve got to step it up.”

Shane nodded empathically. “Can we have a day off a week though? It doesn’t have to be on the weekend, but this seven days a week is really hard.”

Robin blinked at him a moment. “You guys have been coming every day?”

The band looked around at each and all gave a collective shrug.

She turned to Bob. “Is that your schedule?”

Bob’s jaw dropped and he shook his head. “I only do that if there’s a rush to get the album out, which I understood there wasn’t. I don’t how we got on working every day, but Astraeus is correct they need a day off.”

“What works best for everyone?”

The band worked out a better schedule that worked for everyone with it ending with Bob giving everyone the rest of the week off, giving them strict instructions to talk to him about those sort of things before it got to this point.

Robin clapped her hands once. “Right, now that we’ve got that settled, we’re still meeting up at Abbadon’s for dinner to discuss my meeting with Nancy. My meeting is at three and dinner is at six, so don’t be late.” She glared at Shane and he raised his hands in surrender.

“See you all then!”

****

Robin straightened her wig in her rearview mirror and added more lipstick. She wore special contacts that changed her bright blue eyes to a more common brown color. She was dressed in slim fitting white slacks with a bright pink silk blouse and a black leather aviator’s jacket. She hated wearing these clothes, they just weren’t her. At least she didn’t have to wear high heels to this thing. She would have broken an ankle for sure.

But she would sell her soul to the devil if it meant that Steve got to do what he loved. And it wasn’t as though she didn’t love her job either. But Eddie was right, she was on her last frayed nerve and that wouldn’t do her boys any good.

She slid out of her Maserati MC20 and walked up to the restaurant. The Corroded Coffin’s manager, Chrissy Cunningham was going to be there as a mediator.

Robin hadn’t told Steve this, but Chrissy knew who she was. Not the band, she didn’t know that, but she knew that Celeste Baptiste was Robin Buckley. It was just something Robin felt she needed to know before going in there with Nancy. That she personally had a stake in the game, even if it was just as Steve’s best friend.

Chrissy loved the idea of even their manager having an alter ego and it made Robin feel better about her choice to be someone else.

Robin and Chrissy kissed each other’s cheeks in greeting and Robin sat down.

“She’s not here yet?” she asked, looking at her matching watch.

Chrissy shook her head. “She’s running a little behind. One of her clients blew up the internet last night and she’s been having to play hard ball to keep it from destroying their career.”

Robin leaned in close. “Ooh, do you know who it was?”

“That’s for me to know,” Nancy said from above them, “and for you to never find out.”

Robin looked up at her and was struck on how good she looked. It was almost unfair how good she looked.

She was wearing a grey plaid blazer with the sleeves rolled up over a white button shirt and a black pencil skirt. She wore grey boots and matching sunglasses, glasses she took off with a shake of her dark curls.

Robin gulped. Nancy had been intimidating enough in high school, but now she could stare down a raging bull and come away unscathed.

“Hello, ladies,” Nancy said with a smile. “I’m sorry I was late, but I think I managed a god damn miracle and could eat an entire salad bar.”

Nancy sat down and put her phone in her purse.

“Oh are you vegan?” Chrissy asked as the waiter came up with a pitcher of water. Nancy waved him off and ordered a rosé.

“Just vegetarian,” she said with a shake of her head. “I love cheese too much. Plus, I knew a militant vegan and they scare me.”

Robin laughed. “Couldn’t be me, I went full vegan last year and haven’t looked back.”

Nancy and Chrissy both winced, but for different reasons, Nancy for her comment about militant vegans and Chrissy, well...

“I picked this place because it has the best rib eye steak on the planet,” she said with a grimace. “That’s not going to bother either of you if I order that, right?”

Nancy and Robin shared a glance and then shook their heads.

“My best friend loves steak,” Robin said, “It’s his choice to eat it, I just a have a problem with the ethical consumption of meat and other animal products.”

“Most of my clients eat meat,” Nancy agreed. “I’m not about to piss them off because I don’t like the taste.”

Chrissy relaxed and let out a long sigh. “Great!”

She picked up her menu to hide her embarrassment. A few minutes later, their waiter came back and they placed their orders.

Nancy had ordered a pasta with roasted sun dried tomatoes and mushrooms and Robin ordered a simple salad with a vinaigrette.

As they waited for their food, Nancy got down to business. “So as I understand it, the band The Fallen is looking for an agent to help with the legal and PR aspect of their brand, correct?”

Robin nodded, twisting her napkin nervously. Normally as Celeste, she was cooler under pressure but Nancy scared her. Not because of anything she could do to her specifically, but because what she could do to her boys.

Chrissy reached out and laid her hand over Robin’s fidgeting ones. Robin let out a shuddered breath.

“Normally bands like theirs have teams and teams of people doing all the work,” Robin said, “but with the secrecy surrounding their identities the more people that know the easier it is for a leak.”

Nancy nodded. “It’s certainly not the usual thing. But I’ve got a few clients that are strict about their identities and it wouldn’t be a problem, but as I told Chrissy, I would have know everything about them so that I can do my upmost to protect them.”

“Did you sign the NDA?” Robin asked, straightening her spine. This was something she was good at. Protecting her boys and she would do it with the fierceness of a mother bear and her cubs.

Nancy picked up her briefcase and opened it up. She took out a folder and handed it to Robin. Robin looked it over and then nodded.

She stuck it in her purse and pulled out a hard portfolio and slid it across to Nancy. Chrissy squeezed her hand as Nancy read through the documents. Their food arrived in the interim and she set it aside. She steepled her hands and planted her elbows on the table.

“How much of this do you know?” she asked Chrissy.

“Only what I needed to which is who Celeste is,” she replied, “and that both her and Abbadon have a history with you that could be trouble for a lot of people, not just the band.”

Nancy nodded and took a bite of her food before saying anything else. Chrissy and Robin exchanged glances but started eating as well. More for something to do in the intervening silence than because they were actually interested in food at that moment.

After a few moments Nancy blotted her lips with her napkin and set it next to her plate. “This is not what I was expecting when I heard that you had concerns about my professionalism and in all honesty, this is easier to understand then a manager thinking they don’t need the help of an agent when they really do.”

Chrissy and Robin shared a glance.

“Is that something that’s common?” Chrissy asked. Corroded Coffin had already had Nancy as their agent when she became their manager five years ago. They had outgrown their former manager Murray Bauman and was looking for someone younger to manage them so they hired her.

Nancy nodded. “It is.” She turned to Robin. “You’re his best friend, right? The quirky band chick who was always working with him?”

Robin was impressed with her way of asking the question without revealing anything significant about their identity. She brought her finger up to her contact and moved it aside to show the blue underneath before sliding it back into place.

“I’m assuming I’m the last resort?” Nancy asked after taking another bite of food.

Robin and Chrissy shared another glance.

“Not in the way you mean,” Chrissy explained. “I gave her a list of agents that might be able to have them on as clients and we’ve met with a couple of them but decided even before they got to what’s in the folder that they weren’t suitable for their needs.”

“The double lives aspect, I suspect.”

“Both of them wanted to push them into revealing themselves,” Robin said, nodding. “Which was completely off the table.”

Nancy licked her bottom lip and her eyes narrowed. “Is that off the table indefinitely or will we circle back to that sometime in the future?”

Robin rolled her eyes. “There’s no way to predict if they’re going to change their mind five-six years down the line.”

“I’m going to be frank,” she said, “I do not have a problem repping them. Not even Abbadon. But I understand there will be some awkwardness on both sides at first. I will even apologize in person. Because the fact of the matter is, I did hurt him. I strung him along until something better came along and then didn’t even have the decency to break up with him before moving on. I was young and stupid and even worse, I’m not even with that guy anymore. Like with me and Abbadon, we wanted different things.”

“Apologize first,” Chrissy said with a wicked gleam in her eye, “then we’ll see about hiring you for The Fallen.”

Nancy reached out to shake Robin’s hand. “Deal?”

Robin nodded curtly. “Deal.”

They moved onto the more tedious aspects of what they wanted out of Nancy as they finished their meals.

But as Robin was heading back to her car she had a small satisfied smile on her face. Yes, this really was the best option for the band.

****

Because of canon-Chrissy's unhealthy relationship with food, I wanted her to go hard into eating all things that her mom most likely forbade her from eating growing up. Hence the steak and the wine. Nancy I figured would be at least vegetarian with personality (just the vibes I get from her *shrug*) and Robin would absolutely be vegan. Just not a militant one.

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[waldau]

hiii i saw that requests for a short drabble from the prompt list is open! i was wondering if you could do prompt 46 or 10 with anyone of the svt members<33

“A hello/good-bye kiss that is given without thinking - where neither person thinks twice about it.” + vernon

i can't get over f2l roommate vernon whoops. i chose prompt 10 since 46 was a bit sad :)

“vernon, did you find your airpods?”

“yes!” he calls out from the kitchen, voice muffled strangely. no doubt he’s once again made himself a breakfast of bread and jam. if only he’d listen to you once and let you make him a normal breakfast.

“what about your hoodie? the one chan borrowed four days ago?”

“he said he’s going to give it back to me today, don’t worry,” vernon says, rushing out of the kitchen and heading straight to where his shoes are. it’s a bit funny to see him this flustered. he’s always the calm and collected one between the two of you.

“oh, shit,” he curses, and you laugh when you see he’s put the wrong shoe on the wrong foot.“

“are we still on for today evening? to catch that re-run of avatar?”

“of course we are. but can you tell me why i chose this particular class?”

“script writing? are you seriously asking me that?”

he stands up and takes off his beanie, running a hand through his hair and putting it back on. “it’s not fun when i have to wake up this early and go to my class and you have to do…nothing.”

“you have way more thoughts than i do,” you say with a shrug. “makes sense you’d take this course.”

“well. thanks. see you by noon?”

“i’ll be right here,” you say, raising your hand for a fistbump. the usual.

vernon steps closer. at first you think he’s about to tell you something, but you feel a quick kiss pressed to your lips, gone as fast as it came. “bye.”

“vernon? what?”

he freezes the exact way you’re also frozen. you’re sure he didn’t meant to do that, given the way there’s an actual blush on his cheeks. you’ve never seen him blush at anything, and here he is, having just kissed you.

you’re not exactly upset with the fact that your very hot roommate you’ve had a crush on for a better part of the year has just kissed you goodbye. but it’s just crazy that it came to him so…naturally. there’s so many questions in your mind, honestly. yet you can’t help feel bad for vernon given the way he’s eyeing you and the door. he’s already late for his class by a few minutes.

“go,” you say. “we need to talk about this later.”

“you’re not…upset?”

“only if it was a mistake.”

“it wasn’t. it just…felt right.”

he’s speaking deadpan and it’s still the most romantic thing you’ve heard. you reach out to grab his collar, and his eyes widen. “do it again?”

he’s definitely been thinking about it for a while now, because he obliges.

[spicywhenspeaking]

If I'm There Chapter: Twenty-Five

read from part one here!

summary: Noah and Natalie met in high school and developed a relationship through their love of music and art. Falling in love, innocent and young, they think nothing can keep them apart. However, sometimes in the pursuit of your dreams the things we love the most get left behind.

this is a complete work of fiction, some characters while based on real people are totally made up. :)

Taglist: @lma1986 @cookiesupplier @notingridslurkaccount @thisbicc @laurpartyprogram @to-be-written @concretenoah @thebadchic @madomens @samanthasgone @myownthoughts12 @missduffsblog @jilliemiw86 @malerieee @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @badomenslrh @robabankfuckmickeymouse @darknightstarryeyes @xxkittenkissesxx @mitchhbitch @sorrowsofsilence @blackveilomens

note: I'm sorry I've been gone for so long! I took a much needed writing break but am excited to get back into a schedule. I can't guarantee when I'll upload but I'm sure it won't be another 3 months between updates...lol sorry again.

“Oh shit!” Noah squeals as his roller-blades skitter back and forth trying to catch his balance as Erin circles the two of us as we stake alongside her. I’ve taken her skating several times and have figured out how to remain upright, although I’m no expert I can keep up with the other roller moms. Noah on the other hand is like an unsteady infant taking his first steps. Before he falls on his ass again he reaches out and grabs onto me in an attempt to remain standing. 

“Ah! No, don't! Noah!” I cry out as I lose my balance and my stakes fly out from under me and we both fall onto a heap on the floor. I end up on my back with Noah looming over me having caught himself with his hands before crushing me completely. He’s close enough that the short hair that falls in front of his face tickles my forehead. 

“Oh, sorry” he says and his breath caresses my cheek. My voice is caught in my throat. I know there is a blush creeping up my neck but I ignore it as we shuffle to get back onto our feet. Sliding and clinging onto the side of the rink to remain upright. 

Laughing loudly he looks at me with a smile that takes up half of his face, “guess I’m in need of practice.” I return a small laugh and nod in agreement. 

Erin continues to circle us with a quizzical look on her face, “y’all are funny. Let's go! A few more turns and then can we go get ice cream?!” Giggling she rushes off as we slowly follow with Noah refusing to let go of my hand.

“Sorry, I really don’t want to bust my ass again.” Squeezing his hand in encouragement we continue forward after our daughter. “No worries Noah, I’ll catch you if you fall again.” 

Noah’s POV

I almost stumble again at her words. She's using the same words I wrote for her all those years ago back at me. Does she even realize what she said? Probably not. Maybe? I shake it off for now as she pulls me forward. 

We go around the skating rink hand in hand and I selfishly hold as tight as I can, only letting go once we’ve exited the rink and sat down to take off our stakes. 

“So what's good for ice cream around here?” I ask while we turn in our stakes before we head out the door into the hot summer air. “I like Amy's! They have lots of yummy flavors!” Erin cheers. She’s walking between us, holding both of our hands. I was shocked at first when she grabbed my hand but it filled my heart with so much joy—more than I ever thought possible. 

“What do you like to get at Amy’s Erin?” I asked while seated in the passenger seat of the car. “Hmmm I like getting sweet cream with Oreos and rainbow sprinkles! It’s sooo good!”

Her excitement is contagious as Natalie’s smile is also spread wide across her face as she listens to Erin. “What about you Nat? What’s your favorite?” I turn my gaze to her and the summer heat has given her a glowy sheen of sweat on her cheeks causing her blush to shine.

She looks so beautiful. I want to kiss her. I wish I could.

“I like to get the Mexican vanilla with strawberries and chocolate chips, I think you’ll like their stuff. Lots of choices.” 

I turn up the radio and Erin squeals with joy! “This was in the movie Aunt Hales and I watched!” 

“Reaching for something in the distance..” 

Natalie sings along with her, “so close you can almost taste it release your inhibitions.”

The song is too good not to sing along, so as we drive to get ice cream, I find myself singing along as well.

“Feel the rain on your skin, no one else can feel it for you! Only you can let it in..”

Did I think six months ago I would be singing Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield in the car with my daughter and the girl I've always loved? Not at all, but this is something I wouldn’t trade for anything.  I won’t let her get away this time, I’m just going to have to play the long game and hopefully, she will trust me with her heart again. 

Hours later, after some amazing ice cream Natalie and Erin are dropping me off at my Airbnb. I chose something that wasn’t too far from their house and there’s a pool. Erin was excited about that. She was running from room to room looking at all of the spaces.

“I got this place because it has lots of room, so if Erin ever wanted to spend the night she would have her own space,” I say to Natalie. She smiles softly, “she’d love that Noah. Maybe when she gets back from art camp?” she responds.

“And of course you two can come over and use the pool whenever, even next week Erins at camp? You could come over and hang out? The other guys will be here Thursday” I ask nervously. God, why am I so nervous, I’ve known Nat for years. It’s not weird to ask her to hang out…right?

“I would love that, I’m free on Wednesday?” She says looking out at the yard as Erin runs in the grass next to the water. 

So she knows the guys won’t be here until Thursday but wants to come over on Wednesday.. that’s good? right? Stop reading into it man, just live.

“Wednesday is amazing, I’ll grab snacks.” god I sound pathetic. 

She giggles while we watch Erin take off doing cartwheels now, “she is an endless stream of energy.” she comments quietly. “She really is, I’d like some of that. I’m exhausted.” 

Natalie’s energy shifts slightly, “oh you’re right. You’ve been on the move all day. We should get out of your hair so you can relax.” 

“Oh- no that’s-” I try to catch her but she’s already at the backdoor quietly calling for Erin to head home.  Why did I say that?…idiot. 

“Noah! This house is awesome!! I can’t wait to come over this summer! After my camp next week I’m totally coming over to swim!” she says as she runs up to give her a goodbye hug. 

I return the hug, wrapping her tight in my arms. “Can’t wait for it kiddo, I’ll grab some floats this weekend. It’ll be a fun summer for sure.” I say looking up to see Natalie snapping what I’m sure she was hoping was an incognito photo. “Send that to me please?”

She nods and they move to exit, “Nat, wait.” I reach and softly grab her arm, pulling her quickly into a hug. “I’ll see you later, I had fun today.” 

“I had fun too Noah.” her hands squeeze my sides briefly before she releases and they head to their car. They pull out of the driveway and a thought hits me.

I rush to my guitar and sit down to get the idea out while it’s fresh in my head. 

I can wait for you at the bottom I can stay away if you want me to I can wait for years if I gotta Heaven knows I ain’t getting over you Can we try again? When we’re not so different Can we make amends? Why can’t we just pretend?

I jot down the slightly altered lyrics on a random scrap of paper I see in my guitar case and shut it. 

I finish unpacking and jump into the shower to rinse off. I hop out at the exact time I see my phone ringing, Erin is calling. 

“Hey, kiddo! What’s up?”

“Hey, Noah! I was wondering if you would come with us on Sunday to drop me off at camp. It’s a couple of hours away though so if you have plans I understand.” 

“I don’t have anything going on, I’d love to tag along.” 

“MOM! HE SAID YES! - sweetheart I thought we agreed we’d call tomorrow? Noah’s had a long day - I was too excited…I’m sorry Noah.” 

“Hey, it’s no worries kiddo! You can call me whenever you need too.”

“Mom?! Did you hear that? Noah said it’s okay!”

I hear Natty’s laugh on the other end of the phone and it kills me that we’re not just all together laughing. Lately that’s all I can think about. All I want. 

“Well I am supposed to look at what clothes I’m packing for camp right now but I’ll see you on Sunday!” 

“I’ll see you Sunday kiddo.” 

Natalie POV

“So is it like a date?” Haylie asks. Were sitting on her bed later that night after having packed Erin’s camp bag and her going to bed. 

“It’s not a date! It’s swimming. We’re just two old friends hanging out.” the moment the words are out of my mouth I know it’s bullshit. I don’t know if it will ever feel like just two old friends with Noah. 

“I’d argue with you but I know you don’t even believe what you just said so it’s pretty pointless.” I throw my head back onto the pillows and sigh in defeat.

“I wish I believed it. I wish I could just be normal around him. It’s like I’m a teenager all over again…do I remember everything bad that happened? Of course..but I also remember all of the good things..ugh! Why are feelings so complicated?! Like am I a horrible person with no backbone if I forgive him for everything and just let him back into my life like no time has passed? Or am I a bitch if I keep him at arm’s length for the rest of our lives despite my feelings for him because of mistakes we made as kids?” 

I feel the bed dip down as Haylie sits down next to me. “Unfortunately I don’t have the answer for you, but I know you are not a horrible person or a bitch. Life is complicated and confusing and all you can do is consider what is best for you and Erin. I’ll support you no matter what you choose to do…but what I will say is that since you two started talking again…you’ve been different. Happier than I’ve seen you in a long time.” 

She’s right. I’ve felt happier than I have in years since I reconnected with Noah. That has to mean something. 

Maybe it’s time to just let myself be open to what could happen.

Could we even have anything like that again? 

Under the same Texas moon, two lonely hearts thought in tandem if the other may be open to loving them again.

[naomikozura]

Playing with Fire: Chapter 2

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Fem!Reader (Criminal)

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Romance

Warnings: strong language, use of weapons, aggressive fighting, harassment, murder/killing people, bombs and explosives, mention of burn injuries (minor) , mentions of gang violence (minor), emotional turmoil (if you squint) (lmk if I missed any!)

WC: 6.7K

Summary: The last few weeks have been filled with busy jobs, this one is no different. Sneaking into a secure server base containing everything you need seems easy enough but what happens when a simple mission turns into a death trap? You fight for your life, but not without playing for the upper hand.

Chapter 1 || Chapter 3

Your legs hung off the edge of the desk, looking over at Carmine who was talking to one of the other girls. Sionis and Penguin talking over their next move. Sionis, per usual, was cursing about Red destroying another one of his operations, trying to find a way to get this man’s head in his trophy case. 

“He hijacked the entire shipment of kryptonite. Do you know how expensive kryptonite is?!”, you heard him stress out loud, though you knew that kryptonite was expensive, around $25,000 per gram. This entire shipment was probably well over $50 million due to the amount of cases he had on the boat. 

You knew a loss that big made Red be on Sionis’ rader even more. The one thing Sionis hated more than anything was losing money. This case, $50 million.

“We need to trick him,'' you heard Sionis say. Turning to look at you, then he smirked. “Why don’t we set a trap for him, a pretty one.”, he lifted your chin to look at him. Your eyes shifting to hatred in a split second. “You know how to seduce men, especially with this body of yours.”, you wanted to punch him in the face. The fact that this man was completely oblivious to who he was talking to. 

You really wanted to punch him, but you heard Penguin speak up, “Sionis. You make another comment as brainless as that again, I’ll make sure my men get off protection for your operation.”, you silently thanked him. Sionis stepping back. You kept your eyes on him, his tall stature disappearing through the door to ask for another drink. You turned to the Boss who looked at you and handed you your gun back. He had replaced the bullets in it, ensuring you kept it loaded no matter what. You took the pistol from him and placed it on the inside of your shorts. 

Penguin had moved into the office for a moment, having a call as you stayed in the main room with Black Mask. You watched as he stared at you, not hiding his obvious interest in you. 

“Y/n, what’s a man gotta do to get a little attention around here?”, he asked openly, drink in his hand as he took another sip. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’d have to be easy to look at first of all”, his eyes narrowed as a wide smile cracked on his face. 

“You’re a spitfire aren’t you?”, he leaned forward. “Is that why so many men want a piece of you? Because you leave them on their toes? You playin’ hard to get?”

“You really don’t know when to quit so you?”

“Give me a chance. You won’t know what it’s like to be with a real man until you’ve been with someone like me”, his voice made you cringe. How did this fucker gain so much confidence in himself when he was horrid to look at. 

“Not. A. Chance.”, you bit out.

“C’mon sweets, let’s have some fun” he tried getting closer to you, your body in fight mode as you pushed him off. 

“Let me go mother fucker!”, you pushed him, angry that he could accept no as an answer. 

“You don’t even realize what you're doing”, he cursed, his eyes narrowed at you as he planted a hand next to your head. Your body flush against the wall as he towered over you. “You could have it all, sweetheart.”

“I already have it all. I did it all on my own.”, you said through clenched teeth. “I don’t need anything from you.”

“Alright, Y/n. But you’ll come around sooner than later.”, he laughed before walking back to the couch, leaving the taste of disgust in your mouth. 

You couldn’t understand why Black Mask had taken a liking to you, or when it would stop but you needed to keep him at a distance. He may be one of the boss’s partners but you were skeptical of him and didn’t trust his motives. 

He helped keep money in your pockets and you knew he would be the one to help bring down the Red Hood but for some reason, even with all that you couldn’t bring yourself to let him off the hook.

Your intuition was never wrong, you could always sense out when people stood by their word and when they didn’t.

Sionis was one of those who didn’t.

You turned back over to Penguin as he stepped out of the office, holding a paper and handing it to you. It was a court document with the name and release date of an Arkham Asylum prisoner. Why would they need to come out?

“He gets released in three months. He will be our biggest playing card to take down the Red Hood. Maybe we can find a way to expedite his release.”, Penguin mentioned, your attention fully on the person on paper. It was true they were a heavy hitter, but three months was a long time and would result in more loss of revenue if the Boss waited that long. Then again, Penguin had ties on the inside that could help get the release date to get moved up. 

“What do we do until the process pulls through?”, you asked, setting the paper down as Sionis picked it up. 

“You can work on the Calvi case.”, he mentioned. 

“How are we busting him out? I want him to catch the Red Hood tomorrow!”, Black Mask muttered as he threw the paper back on the table. 

“Patience. For the meantime, we’ll keep business as usual and make sure Hood can’t get in on our jobs. So far it seems he’s only getting on certain operations. We’ve been keeping track and it seems he only goes for high grade weapons.”, Penguin took a sip of his drink before setting it down. “He might be trying to get someone’s attention.”

“Is it the Bats?”

“Who knows. But if it is, we will plan accordingly and make sure we can get both of them.”

“Two birds, one stone”, you said softly.

“Exactly.”

“There is a building that holds high range bombs, get intel on how they got into these fucker’s hands from our manufacturer.”

Black Mask’s words rang in your head, Carmine’s intel helping you locate the building holding the ammunition and bombs. There had been a spike in Black Mask’s trades being raided by Red Hood, causing there to be more of Sionis’s men betraying him in the process in order to not get killed. 

What a waste of a worker because Black Mask would kill them anyway after finding out about their double cross. 

One thing you learned about working for men like them was to never betray them. They enjoyed killing traitors almost as much as they enjoyed getting hundreds of thousands of dollars after every job. It was a risky game to play and you would never find yourself in that situation even if your life depended on it. Your loyalties lied with Penguin and his partners. No where else. 

You managed to drop into the building from the other skyscrapers surrounding it, breaking in through a window after disarming the security cameras in your section and finding a vent to climb into in order to spy on the workers. 

You crawled through the vent and tried to navigate into the tech room where the main information database was. It would be almost too easy to get in and get the intel you needed to ensure you could find which one of the workers traded explosives over to this mystery buyer and betrayed Black mask. 

You loosened the screws on the vent cover, placing it gently to the side and you dropped into the server room in smooth silence. You looked over at the master computer, all the information you needed all held within its drive. You needed to hack into the system, download the current intel, and leave. That was your mission but it wouldn’t be what you would do. You weren’t going to download just the past month of information. You were going to download it all then completely delete it from the cloud to ensure Two-Face’s partners couldn’t get into it. 

You quickly plugged your device into the tower, breaking through the first security wall in record time before you managed to bypass the second security wall. You skimmed through the files before you found what you were looking for, connecting the USB into the main server and back into your computer you had built into your suit. It was similar to what Batman used in the field to find information, a simple copy and built out even better than his was. Once you saw the flash of the information downloading, you managed to look into some of the files, noticing a few names that stuck out to you. 

Joker.

Black Mask.

Penguin.

Riddler. 

Scarecrow.

Bane. 

Why were all these names on the server?

You were downloading all the information so you were certain you’d be able to dig into the files later. You kept skimming until one especially caught your attention. 

Red Hood.

You stared at the name for a second before clicking into the file, starting to read into it before you heard a crash behind you, your head snapping back to the door before you heard the sound of men talking. You quickly finish out the downloads, having all the information onto your drive and your computer, pulling out the USB and flash drive and stuffing them into your utility belt.

The sound of the men approached faster as you quickly coded in the virus to delete all of the information in the server room, setting it to detonate the system in 10 minutes so you had time to leave, putting the computer in sleep mode as the room darkened. Just as the door handle turned and the men barged into the room, you jumped into the ceiling, quickly pushing yourself away from the vent so they couldn’t look up and see you. 

Your heart was pounding in your chest at the close call, slowly backing away as you moved down one of the other pathways in the vent. 

The narrow path ended up leading into a big meeting room, looking down you noticed a bunch of men gathered around talking about some business you couldn’t quite make out. You focused on their conversation, hearing Two Face’s name come up along with Black Mask’s and Penguin’s. 

Was this where the traitor was? You looked through the slits in the vent, moving your head around to get a better view of who all was present in the room. You held your breath, staying even as you moved forward an inch, observing the room before you felt a sense of panic set in. 

You pushed yourself back, the gunshots missing you by an inch before you tried to move through the vents, the loud sound of gunshots shooting off triggered a fight or flight response, leaving you trapped at your limited space before you heard a man yell. 

“Get whoever is in the vent! We cannot let them get out alive!”

Shit.Shit.Shit.

You crawled through the vent, reaching an empty hallway as you undid the screws to the vent, quickly placing it to the side as you jumped down to try and find an escape. 

Just as you fell down, you felt a body slam into you, causing you to fall to the ground and slam into the wall. You rubbed the side of your head, looking up in confusion as your face contorted in shock and annoyance. 

You cannot be fucking serious.

You cursed as you watched his head rise and meet your eye line. “Oh, this is rich.”, he muttered before pushing to his feet and running down the hall. Your head snapped to watch him, hearing as voices sounded from a few meters away before you also rose to your feet and followed behind the red hooded vigilante. 

You followed as he pushed through a door, jumping out of the window and using his grappling hook to smash into the window of the floor below. Why must he be so extra?!

You didn’t have time to think before you also jumped out the window, following suit and using your grappling hook to twist into the already broken window and land into the room. As you jumped in and stood, you noticed Red holding a gun aimed at you, your eyes meeting his as you jumped out of the way as the gunshot rang out. 

Your body twisted out of the way, pushing yourself off the ground and lunging at him with your serrated knife. He moved out of the way as he tried to reach for you but you were quick, slipping past him as you ran out the door and down the hall. You were in a building that had a bunch of stairs, railings that separated a top floor from the floor below, just like a hospital. You could hear him behind you as he tried chasing you, but you jumped over the railing and landed on the ground right below the stairs. Hearing as he aimed at you and his gun went off, the bullet barely missed by a centimeter before you threw yourself on the ground, turning your body and shooting back at him with your own gun, watching as the bullet dug into his shoulder. 

You watched as he gripped where the bullet entered, quickly using his delay to run down one of the halls and into a room that was dark and empty. It looked like a storage room but you managed to shut the door and close it, taking a moment to catch your breath. 

Why was he here?

You pulled up the building's blueprints, seeing the entire layout of the 70 story building. 

The room that had the explosives and ammunition in it was five stories above and you were on floor 50. 

Shouldn’t be too hard to go up so long as Red didn’t see you or the men working here didn’t try to kill you. 

Both out to kill you. 

You quickly took a deep breath, trying to plan an escape route before you heard the onslaught of bullets raiding the room you just came from. They must’ve seen Red. 

You quickly used the distraction as a way to slip out, watching as the men had a full blown shootout with Red. You quickly found the door that led to the staircase, watching the men to ensure you weren’t being spotted. You slid through the chaos seamlessly, almost reaching the door before you felt a bullet graze your ear and hit the wall next to you. You looked up and saw Red pointing his gun at you, giving away your silent escape. It made the men working in the building put their full attention on you, rushing towards you as you quickly ran out to the staircase, the men shooting bullets at you as you saw the massive drop down the stairs. You contemplated for a moment, before hearing the men barge through the doors. 

Now or never. 

You got up on the railing and pushed yourself off, using the momentum to fall down faster before using your grappling hook to grab onto the railing and pull yourself over to the side. The bullets were still raining down as the men ran down the stairs. 

You looked at the number on the staircase.

Floor 40. 

Dammit!

You punched the floor in anger, trying to get your shit together before this entire mission went to shit. Red had to ruin everything. You wanted a bullet in his head and you wanted to watch him bleed out. 

You pushed yourself up, grabbing the door handle and trying to find an alternative route. 

You noticed the elevator. It was a stupid idea, but the stairway was blocked and you probably had a better chance at reaching level 55 through there than you did the stairs. 

The outside of the building also left you too exposed. The vents were not interconnected to go upwards so the only real option was the elevator. 

You quickly ran over, pressing the up button as it dinged open. 

You walked in and pressed level 55, the doors closing as you watched the number go up slowly.

43, 44, 45, 46, 47… 

The door dinged open, your eyes making contact with an older, gray haired man. You pulled out your gun only for him to push it upward, the bullet escaping the elevator as he shoved his way in. The door closed and he kept trying to aim punches at you, your body twisted around and dodging but he still managed to land a few hits. He wrapped an arm around your throat, having you in a headlock as he tried to suffocate you. You struggled against him before using the wall of the elevator to push off and hit him on the other side of the small space. 

“You little bitch.”, he muttered as he threw another hit at you, hitting you in the stomach as you managed to dig your knife out of the sheath and dig it into his leg, shoving it full force and pulling it out before you dug it into the curve of his neck, his eyes wide in shock as you held his gaze. 

You wanted this motherfucker’s last thing to see to be you. You wanted him to know not to mess with Penguin or Black Mask. You needed them to know not to fuck with you. 

“I’ve been called worse.” you bit out as you pulled the knife out, watching as he choked on his own blood, the anger in your eyes as he reached an arm out, his strangled noises sounding out as he struggled to make noise. His blood staining your boots and the bottom of your suit. 

Your narrowed eyes stayed focused on him until you visibly saw life vanish from his eyes.

The elevator doors opening and the ding sounding out right as his eyes faded into a gray nothingness.  

Little bitch. 

You walked out, looking around to see if any of the men were nearby, carefully treading through the floor as you pulled up the blueprints, the ammunition room just a few hallways down. You quickly moved through the halls before a wave of annoyance flooded through your veins. 

Two more men rounded the corner, the guns aimed at you as an endless round of bullets sounded out, your body quickly moving around and jumping up, kicking one of them in the head with your solid boot as you twisted around and threw your knife into the shoulder of the other man. 

You quickly jumped on his shoulders, pushing the knife in and your hands gripping his head, your eyes meeting his wide ones before you smirked and cracked his neck to the side, snapping it as his lifeless body fell to the ground. You pulled the knife out of his shoulder, ripping his flesh as the blood stained the ground before lifting the other's head off the ground. 

“200 rounds a second and you’re still too slow.”, you bit out. “Now let’s use the last of your life span for good. Who sold the ammunition and explosives to your buyer?”

“As if I would tell you, you bitch.”, he bit out. “But what does it matter, our job is being carried out tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes, digging your knife into the man’s shoulder. 

“I won’t fucking ask again. Next time, it’s through your thick skull.”, you threatened, your face getting closer to his before you repeated yourself. “Who sold you deadbeats the ammunition?”

The venom in your voice made the impact of your words hit harder, but the man laughed maniacally before he tried reaching for his gun. You had about enough of these brainless henchmen. 

You ripped the knife out of his shoulder, slamming it into the middle of his skull and twisting it, watching as he faded into a shell of a body. 

You pulled the knife out, cleaning the blood on the henchman’s body before putting it back into the sheath. 

The blueprints showed the ammunition was in the room around the corner, following its directions and pushing the door open. 

Your body stopped in your tracks. 

Oh fuck.

Your body moved forward, taking in the sight in front of you. 

There were crates of live ammunition filling the entirety of the wall, a live bomb in the middle of the room. It was at least 500 pounds. What were they fucking doing with this? What were they planning?

You moved around the ammunition, trying to ensure you didn’t set anything off. You examined the boxes, scanning the small codes on the crates trying to get the information from the distributor. The information was basic, it only had the type of ammunition, the weapon it could be used for and the address of the building. No real intel into who was in charge of the trade. 

A part of you guessed it might’ve been Red who orchestrated this whole thing, but he wasn’t in good with most of the dealers in Gotham, only those who had no power. Who could it have been?

You walked through the room, walking up to the bomb and examining it, the anxiety seeping into your bones. 

“You sure know how to leave a blood trail don’t you sweetheart?”

You turned, quickly aiming your gun at the voice. Red. 

“Really? You’re going to risk shooting me and setting that”, he motioned at the bomb. “Off?”

You looked at the bomb, then met his gaze again before letting the gun fall. 

“No.”, you muttered. “I’m not here for this. Take it for all I care.”

You walked towards the door, trying to get past him and leave the death trap behind you but you felt his hand wrap around your wrist and slam you into the ground. You let out a grunt in pain before twisting your body around, trying to fight his grasp. You wriggled under him as his body weighed on yours. 

“Careful sweetheart, you can’t afford a third strike.”

“Fuck off.”, you met his gaze, his bright helmet in your face as your eyes hardened.

“As much as I enjoy our little run-ins, I can’t have you leaving with that flash drive.”

You noticed his hand brushing against your sides, his touch leaving your skin full of heat and irritation. You pushed your hips upward, slamming into him with force to throw him off of you. You bit into his hand, using the only opening you had to get him to loosen his grip. 

Your body twisted out of his grasp, pushing yourself to your feet before you stopped in your tracks. That smell….

“Oh, I love feisty women.”, Red said with a smirk in his tone. You almost physically gagged at his comment. You had about enough of men with huge egos. 

“Red.”, you said seriously. 

“C’mon sweetheart, show me what Penguin’s training has done for you.”

You ran at him, jumping and swinging your foot around and hitting him on the side of his head, hearing the subtle crack of his helmet. He lifted his arms up, throwing hits at you as you moved to avoid the direct hits. He swung around, his hand gripping around your throat as you tried grabbing for your knife, your oxygen being cut off. His grip tightened, throwing you to the ground before placing a boot on your chest, your hands wrapping around his ankle. 

“Get off of me!”, you struggled against his weight, hitting him with forceful punches to try and get him off. 

“I like seeing you under me like this, it makes this entire job worth it.”

He could not be fucking serious right now!

“Red!”, you yelled at him. You could feel your senses going into overdrive, the smell filling the room faster by the second. You were surprised he hadn’t felt it yet. 

An alarm rang out and he finally stepped away from you, the crackling sound faint but growing by the second. He looked towards the door, seeing the bright red burn in the hallway. “Well, it was fun sweetheart, see you on our next date.”. 

He turned to leave, jumping out the window and climbing up the side of the building. You could feel the smell getting stronger, the building getting hotter and the smell of smoke growing. You were not going to die here. You walked over to the window, pulling yourself out and going up the side of the building. 

Red had already made it to the top, looking over the ledge to ensure you weren’t following. His eyes narrowed and laughed at himself. 

Good luck, Sweetheart. 

He turned, starting to run to jump off of the building, stopping in his tracks at the sight of you pointing a gun at him. “Where do you think you’re going?”, you kept your gun pointed at him, aiming for the center of his helmet, his eyes narrowing. 

“You’re doing this now?”, he bit, his hands balled into fists in annoyance.

“Is the big bad wolf of Gotham scared of a little fire?”

“The fucking building is covered in gasoline, there’s a 500 pound bomb in the building that could go off at any second and you’re trying to fucking taunt me?”

“Is that a yes?” you cocked your head.

“You’re insane”, he threw at you, his body ready to get out of this death trap. 

“”I’ve been called worse.”, you grinned, it was a game of chicken, first to break would be giving up the upper hand. The crackling of the fire expanded, the sound of the floors collapsing ringing out as Red stared at you, his body language showing that he was stuck in between staying or running. You knew it was stupid, you knew it could get you killed but a part of you didn’t care. You wanted to show him you weren’t scared, that he wasn’t as big and bad as he made himself out to be. The Red Hood was just as human as anyone else. You were forcing him into a corner and you were loving it. 

The fire surrounded the both of you, the faint ringing of the bomb about to go off, the five second alarm, you smirked. 

“Goddammit!”, he yelled, pushing his guns back into his holsters and watching the building start to collapse behind you, only having milliseconds before the entire building caved. 

You both turned at the same time, trying to keep up with the semi stable ground as the floor caved under your feet, almost cashing you to trip. You kept running to the ledge and launching yourself over the edge, falling down towards the street, you turned to see the building combust into a cloud of smoke and ember. You went to grab your grappling hook, your aim towards the building across, only to see the trigger fail. You kept trying it before you realized it was broken. The building slowly collapsing, the impact almost throwing you off as you felt a burning sensation in your arm. 

Dammit!

Your head blanked, your anger about to consume you before you felt an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you in. You felt your body flush against Red as he swung the two of you into the nearby building and broke the window as you tumbled to the ground, your lungs burning for fresh air. You heard the glass shatter around you, your heart pounding in your chest. The force of the explosion had broken the windows around you, the glass chattering on the floor. 

Holy Shit. 

You really just forced Red Hood into a corner. And won. 

Red’s body covered yours, your frame right under his as the glass surrounded you and the burning heat radiated from the building next door. You turned to look at him, his body next to yours as you felt a heat radiating off of his body. His arms still wrapped around you before you pushed yourself away from him and rose to your feet. 

“You have a death wish”, he bit out for the second time. You rolled your eyes before walking back over to the ledge, looking out the window and watching the building as it burned from the explosives. 

“Where are you going?”, he pushed himself off the ground, watching as your eyes stayed focused on the fire. 

“I’m going home.”, you bit out, his figure moving closer to yours as he looked at the burning building. 

“You have a burn on your arm.”, he pointed out as you raised your arm up to see the burn, still not registering in your head due to the adrenaline. 

“I think I’ll survive.”, you turned to leave, his hand wrapping around your wrist, your body reacting naturally and pulling away. “What the hell?!”

“That burn looks like it’s a first, possibly second degree, you need to get it checked out and wrapped.”

“I said, I’m fine.”, you turned and he stepped in front of you, narrowing his eyes as he grabbed your arm, pulling out a small bandage and a container containing burn cream. He placed some on your arm before wrapping the bandage around, securing it before you even had time to disagree. 

You watched him with intent eyes, your pride not allowing you to thank the hooded vigilante. Hell, you shouldn’t even allow him to help you. You should just put a bullet through his head right now. If Penguin or Black Mask saw you right now… 

He finished wrapping your arm, his gaze focused on you and the silence building an unbreakable tension, your eyes locked on each other, his hand still on your arm. Neither of you moved, his body close to yours as you felt your eyes soften a fraction before snapping out of your trance. 

You pulled away from him, turning towards the opposite side of the building, the silence growing. You had nothing to say to him. He was the enemy. You had one mission and that was to kill him. You kept repeating that to yourself, letting him off the hook this once just for helping you. 

“Make sure to change the wrapping in two days or it’ll get worse.”, your ears perked at his voice, turning to look at him but he was already gone by the time you looked back.

This will be your only free pass. 

You thought to yourself before turning towards the door, and getting out of the abandoned building, heading home to get some rest from the stress of the night.

Your intel could be shared tomorrow. 

The past few days went by quickly, your burn had gotten better and you felt a lot stronger after you let your body rest. You had a hard time breathing after the fire and Penguin gave you a connection to the doctor he had on his payroll. He only stated you had a bit of smoke inhalation and it was nothing serious. You just needed a few days off to rest and recuperate your energy. So you spent the days after the fire cleaning your apartment, taking a few walks around the city, and enjoying your short lived time off before you returned to work that weekend. 

Later that night, you wandered to the roof of your apartment building, wearing only pajama shorts and a crop top and left your entire midsection exposed to the wind. You looked down at the road beneath you, remembering the lifetime you once lived in when you’d sit on the roof of that old building with Robin. You couldn’t bring yourself to forget him even after six years, it felt strange especially when you still held a piece of him with you. Just when you thought you would get to know the real him, he vanished. You never got to know him, you only knew he belonged to the life you’d hoped to never be a part of and that he belonged to Batman. He knew the hate you had for the city, the cruelty it had brought onto you. He understood and he comforted you. He was probably the only person in Gotham who understood you back then, and yet, he disappeared. 

You felt anger as you gently touched the necklace that he gifted you for your birthday so long ago. It was your good luck charm. It had kept you alive for months, keeping you out of danger. The only time you didn’t have it on, you almost got killed in a street mugging only to be saved by Penguin at such a young age. He trained you, prepared you for this life and his payout made you stay. You couldn’t refuse his offer to work under him. You had become part of the very life you swore you’d never go into. Now, it was too late to turn back. 

You replayed the words Red had told you, saying you weren’t special but you knew that your specialties were coveted all around the underground circles of Gotham. You were smarter, more calculated and strategic than the majority of the men in Gotham. You had earned your place and you were not going to let some power hungry lowlife tell you otherwise. 

You stayed focused on the moving vehicles down below, taking in the lights illuminating the street as you let out a breath, your shoulders dropping as you stayed still. You didn’t move, you couldn’t feel anything. You just felt…. Tired. Exhausted. Burned out. You couldn’t even bring yourself to move when you felt the cold press as the barrel of the gun was pointed to the back of your head. 

“Hey, Sweetheart.”, the distorted voice sounded from behind you, his form an arm length away as his arm stayed up, cocking his gun as it stayed glued to your head. 

You turned your head slightly, enough for your eye to look back at him, the tiredness evident from the bags under your eyes and the stress marked in the lines of your face. Red didn’t care, you knew he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was him getting rid of you and keeping you out of his way. 

“Are you going to shoot me?”, you asked flatly, unsure as to why you would question him when he had the upper hand in this situation. You couldn’t bring yourself to care how the hell he even found you here, your tiredness overwhelming your senses. You were ready to crash. 

After the eventful week you had, you couldn’t give a damn if he truly chose to pull the trigger, a part of you cocky enough to believe he wouldn’t actually do it. He would have already if he was serious. 

“It’ll send my message to your pig of a boss.”, his annoyed tone still managed to stay evident through his distorter, causing you to scoff silently to yourself. 

“Do it then”, challenging him was the worst thing you could do right now, but a part of you wanted to test his limits. How ruthless was Gotham’s infamous new cold-blooded killer? “You’ve been trying to kill me for the past month now, what’s stopping you now that you have a clear shot?”

Your eye contact didn’t break, the gun pointed at the center of your head as you turned around. He stayed locked on your gaze, his eyes narrowing as you watched him uncock the gun and put it back into the holster that was wrapped around his muscular thighs. “Go before I change my mind.”, his voice was clipped, almost in annoyance.

“You followed me. I don’t have to go anywhere, asshole.”, you scoffed. 

“Go. Home.”, he stepped towards you, his body towering over yours, still not breaking eye contact with you. “Don’t make me take back my act of kindness”

“You’re anything but kind.”, you spat at him, the poison in your words falling flat from the tiredness. His body leaned over yours, focused on you as you held his gaze.

You could tell he was hot with anger with the way his body tensed. You felt another wave of words come up your throat, the sentence quickly dying as he put his hand around your throat. Not tight enough to hurt you, but enough to keep you quiet. 

“I won’t repeat myself again, (Y/n).”, he moved you closer to him. “Go. Home.” You glared at him before delivering a hit to the side of his neck, forcing him to let you go. 

You stepped back, ready to retaliate if he touched you again. He rubbed the sore spot before running at you, letting you jump over him, twisting your body in order to deliver a kick to the back of his head. You noticed a small crack on the back of his helmet, the kick delivering the damage. 

You landed on your feet and he punched the ground, his arms flexing as he pushed himself up, his eyes narrowed on you. You ran toward him, trying to land another hit but he grabbed your arm and flung you over his shoulder, the concrete making your bones crack. 

You tried charging at him again, jumping over him only to feel his hands grab your ankle and slam you down, your head connecting with the ground hard enough to leave you with a possible concussion. 

You tried to stand, only to feel that familiar combat boot on your chest. You wrapped your hands around his ankle, trying to get the weight off but stopped when you heard the cocking of his pistol. He stood over you, arm outstretched as he aimed the gun at your head for the second time tonight. 

You grunted, punching his leg only to be met with the hardness of kevlar plates. The oxygen was slowly fading, you knew he was trying to immobilize you and apparently making you suffocate was his favorite way of doing so. 

“Get off of me!”, you struggled against his weight.

“I told you to go before I changed my mind, sweetheart.”, his gun still locked on you. 

You punched his leg, trying to wriggle out from under his boot but failed. He didn’t falter, he just pushed his boot further down. 

“Let me go god dammit!”

“You really think I'll let you go after you just pulled this shit?”

“Just let me go!”, you struggled, finally stopping as you met his eyeline. Your eyes were filled with tiredness, anger, resentment, but you lost all your energy to try and fight him. You kept squirming until you felt the massive combat boot pull off your chest. You quickly stood to your feet taking a few steps backward. This bastard had it coming. 

“Go.” he pushed the guns into their holsters, turning away as you stood there panting. You didn’t say a word, unsure of what to say or do. You needed to go home. You relaxed, moving around him to head back to the ladder that led to your apartment window. As you reached the ledge, that distorted voice rang out. 

“This is a one time deal.” his voice called “Next time, I won't hesitate to shoot.”

You turned to look at him, but by the time you did he was already gone. You started down the ladder, reaching the window and forcing it open, climbing in and locking it.

You started undressing, ripping the clothes off as the sweat stuck to your body. You felt gross, exhausted, sore. The shower couldn’t wait anymore. you turned the handle and let the water warm, not before examining yourself in the mirror. 

Bruises, gashes, burns, and cuts littered your body, from your shoulders to your stomach and thighs, you were covered in them. You examined each one, taking in and remembering exactly how you got them. Each one from a job, an operation gone wrong, or most recently, encounters with Red. You didn’t know how much longer your body could take dealing with the physical trauma from the jobs you were given, but you needed to tough it out if you were ever going to get out of Gotham.

You walked under the water, the warmth flooding over your body. Rubbing all the dirt and sweat off before you turned it off and stepped out, changing into an oversized shirt and drying your hair. You looked out the window, the light shining in before you turned over and fell asleep, the day finally catching up to you as you drifted out of consciousness. 

A/N:

This chapter might be one of the shorter ones I’ll end up writing, just to get things moving along. I already have Chapter 3 in drafts and it’s roughly 10K like chapter 1. Can’t say every chapter will be that long but we have a lot to cover to king chapters it is!

I truly hope you’re enjoying this series as much as I am writing it and please share, like, comment! Give me your thoughts I would love to hear them!

See you next week! xx.

[stardustloki]

Being Useful

When Wrecker is injured, the entire Batch agree that he needs time to rest and heal. This is why, when Shep asks the Batch for help with a task that will be sure to make his injuries worse, Omega is baffled when her brothers agree immediately.

The Batch know that they're safe on Pabu. However, they haven't quite understood that their safety doesn't rely on them always making themselves useful.

Tags: Gen, Omega and Wrecker POVs, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Found Family, Past Trauma (Kamino was NOT a good place), Non-Graphic Description of Minor Injuries

Read on Ao3 here.

Or under the cut...

“That should do it,” Echo said at last, securing the long bandage he’d wrapped around Wrecker’s torso. “It’ll heal up fine, but-” he fixed him with a stern look- “only if you rest and give the bacta time to do its job.”

Omega watched as Wrecker visibly deflated.

“You mean I’ve got to sit around doing nothing!”

“If you don’t put any strain on your muscles for the next rotation, the bacta will do its job and the tears in your trapezius will heal.” Echo folded his arms. “If you don’t rest them, if you go around lifting heavy things, they won’t heal, and you’ll be bored for much longer.”

Wrecker stared up at the ceiling, letting out a frustrated sigh. “ Fine. ”

“Lyana was going to teach me how to make sushi today,” Omega spoke up. “You could come with me, if you want. It should be interesting, and we’ll be eating a lot.”

As she waited, hoping her brother would say yes, she caught the grateful look Hunter was sending her out of the corner of her eye. Getting any of her brothers to take it slow after an injury in the field had always been a difficult task, and Wrecker, with his boundless energy and need to move, had always been the worst of them. If he said yes to this, at least she knew he wouldn’t put any strain on his back for the next hour or so.

Her brother looked thoughtful for a second, before smiling at her. “Yeah, okay. I guess that could be fun.”

“Awesome!” she replied, feeling the excitement swell within her, jumping up slightly on the balls of her feet.

She waited, hoping she seemed far more patient on the outside than she felt on the inside, as Hunter helped Wrecker get his shirt back on and Echo packed away the medical supplies. Crosshair was sitting on the bench near the door, chewing a toothpick and tinkering with the settings for his prosthetic hand.

Without warning, Hunter seemed to freeze, glancing at the wall of their home, moving his head slowly towards the door, as if tracking someone. A few seconds later, there was a knock. Omega shrugged and went to open it.

Shep was outside, grinning widely at her through the doorway. She couldn’t help but grin back at the man she was slowly coming to consider her uncle.

“Omega! How are you?” he asked.

“Great, thanks. Looking forward to hanging out with Lyana! What about you?”

“Eh, I’m alright. But there’s been a couple problems I’m hoping your brothers will be able to help out with. Can I come in?”

“Sure!”

She stepped aside to let him in, but as she turned back towards her brothers she found herself frowning, brain stuttering in alarm. 

Hunter, Crosshair and Echo were all standing in between Shep and Wrecker. With the way they’d staggered themselves, the pattern appearing almost natural, perhaps to an outsider like Shep it wouldn’t look as if they’d placed themselves in a defensive formation, clearly attempting to shield Wrecker, but to Omega it couldn’t have been more obvious.

What wasn’t obvious, however, was why they were doing it. This was Shep. One of the nicest people they’d ever met. There was absolutely no need to protect Wrecker from him.

“Good morning, how are you boys today?” Shep’s voice was as welcoming as ever, but Hunter was far more guarded when he spoke.

“We’re all fine, thank you.” Omega frowned at Hunter’s words, she wouldn’t class Wrecker as ‘fine’. “How can we help?”

“There’s a house down near the coast, it got damaged real bad in the storm last night. I was hoping you’d help rebuild it. Wrecker would be a real help bringing up some of the building materials from one of the ships in the dock.”

“Sounds good,” Hunter replied. “Just tell us where the house is and we’ll be there.”

Wait, what?

She waited for Echo to speak up, to repeat what he’d told Wrecker just a few minutes before. Neither Echo nor Crosshair opened their mouths to speak. Instead, they watched Shep with neutral expressions, clearly waiting for him to carry on the conversation.

“Awesome, I’ll send you the address on my comm and-”

“Wait, stop,” Omega interrupted, because if everyone was gonna act like they’d lost their minds, at least she could be the voice of reason. “Wrecker can’t help you, he’s-”

“He’s fine, sir,” Hunter cut across her.

She could literally feel herself gaping at him, but he didn’t spare her a glance, keeping his steady gaze firmly on Shep, who surely must be realising this was weird, right? Hunter had just called him ‘sir’, for kriff’s sake. Hunter had never called him ‘sir’.

Thankfully for her sanity, Shep did seem to find this weird, because he was frowning at Hunter, his head tilted slightly.

“If Wrecker’s injured in some way…” he began.

“It’s nothing,” Wrecker said.

“Nothing serious,” Hunter added, the ‘s’ on serious a little too stuttered for Omega to believe that he hadn’t been about to call Shep ‘sir’ again before cutting himself off.

She stared at him incredulously. Not serious? Okay, it wasn’t serious like a blaster wound was serious, or like a chip in your brain was serious. But, even though he’d tried to hide it, she’d known that Wrecker had been in agony before Echo had applied the bacta, and he’d only stop the injury from healing, or even make it worse, if he started lifting things now.

Besides, Shep considered a small cut serious. She knew because of how he’d fussed over Lyana the last time they’d cooked together and Lyana had nicked herself when her knife had slipped. He’d also been way too concerned when Omega had fallen down the stairs during a game of tag with her friend - she’d only had a couple of bumps and grazes after all, they were basically routine on missions! There was absolutely no way he’d consider letting Wrecker hurt himself more by helping - so why weren’t the others telling him?

“If you’re sure,” he replied, an edge of uncertainty in his voice.

“No, he’s-” 

Hunter made a clearly frantic but barely noticeable gesture in battlesign, with one of the hands he was keeping firmly by his side, telling her that she needed to stop, now. She cut herself off, scowling at him.

If Hunter was using battlesign that meant this was important, that his orders needed to be followed. She knew it also meant he must have an explanation for this, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be frustrated, even as she obeyed. It wasn’t her fault his orders made no sense. 

“Omega’s upset because she invited Wrecker to make sushi with her and Lyana,” Echo said, eyes flickering down towards the floor as he struggled with the lie.

Shep fixed her with a kind smile. Omega did her best to look like it didn’t irritate the hell out of her at that moment. “I’m sure he’ll be able to help next time. So,” he addressed the others, “I’ll see you boys in half an hour or so. If anything changes, or you’re not able to help for any reason, just let me know.”

After he’d left, Omega let her brothers feel the full force of her glare.

“What the hell was that?”

She was surprised to hear Crosshair speaking those words, considering they were exactly what she’d been about to ask the four of them.

“I could ask you the same,” she snapped, folding her arms. “Have you forgotten that there are small tears in Wrecker’s back muscles. Do you want him to get hurt worse.”

Crosshair took a step towards her. Omega only narrowed her eyes further.

“Have you forgotten that they allow us to live here, that they protect us from the Empire even after it invaded their home, because we’re useful to them?” He replied. Omega felt her mouth drop open for the second time that day. “Have you thought about what happens when we stop being useful to them?”

“They invited us to live here because they like us, because they care about us!” Omega protested.

Crosshair scoffed, and, as she glanced at the others, hoping that they’d back her up on this, she could see they looked a mix of wary and uncomfortable.

“I’m sure they do, at least a bit,” Hunter told her, voice gentle, as if he was telling her something difficult to hear. Omega supposed it was difficult, if only because they were being so ridiculous. “But they’ll probably like us a whole lot less if we don’t help them.”

“He wouldn’t want Wrecker to be in pain.”

“I’m fine, Omega,” Wrecker said, walking over to wrap her in a hug, which she gracelessly accepted. “I’ve had to deal with worse, way worse. I’ll be back here recovering before you know it.”

“He probably wouldn’t want Wrecker to be in pain,” Echo agreed, “But-”

“There isn’t any ‘but’ to this!” Omega snapped. “He cares about us, he cares about Wrecker. That isn’t going to change because Wrecker can’t help out one time.”

“Sorry, kid,” Wrecker told her, gently ruffling her hair. “You aren’t going to win this one.”

She sighed, allowing her head to rest against his chest. “Fine,” she groaned. “Guess I’ll go make sushi with Lyana myself then.”

The frustration and anger remained within her throughout her walk along the sunny streets of Pabu. It hadn’t abated by the time she reached Lyana’s, not when she was aware that Wrecker should have been there beside her, not walking in the other direction, about to start doing an activity that was only going to hurt him and make his injuries worse.

Whatever Omega might think about Echo’s lying skills, hers weren’t much better, and Lyana could tell something was up almost as soon as she’d arrived. Well, Omega wanted to know the truth, and she didn’t much feel about hiding what had upset her anyway, so once they were both sitting in the comfortable wooden bench on Lyana’s patio, sipping on the smoothies her friend had prepared, she asked Lyana if her dad had ever stopped liking her because she hadn’t helped him.

Lyana was horrified. “No! Why would you even ask that, Omega?”

She shrugged, but felt her heart lighten at the answer. “Has he ever stopped liking someone else?”

“No! Omega-”

“Wrecker’s injured, he’s hurt his back really badly,” she explained, relieved that she’d been correct. “But my brothers think that if they don’t help your dad, then he’s gonna stop being kind to us or something.”

Lyana gaped at her. “But he’d never do that! He loves you guys, we both do!” She thought for a moment, eyes flickering from side to side. “I’ll comm him, let him know what’s going on. He’ll know what to do.”

For the first time in the last twenty minutes, Omega felt like the world was slowly starting to make sense again. And, as Lyana’s call connected to her dad, she let herself smile at that.

Wrecker walked down to the house near the coast, flanked by his brothers on both sides. He felt sad for Omega, for how upset she’d got on his behalf, but really, he’d be okay. Sure, this was going to be difficult, and it was going to hurt, but he pushed through pain on missions all the time. Besides, he knew with absolute certainty that it was going to be nothing compared to the tests the scientists and trainers had put him through back on Kamino. Sooner or later, his injuries would heal and he’d be fine again. It didn’t really matter that making sushi with Omega had sounded nice.

As they approached, Shep waved to them, and they waved back, before making their way down the steps towards him.

“Where do you want us?” Hunter asked.

Shep explained their tasks, one by one, until he got to Wrecker. He passed him the fishing rod he was carrying. “I’d like you to sit on the jetty and catch us some fish for lunch.”

Wrecker could tell by his brother’s reactions that he wasn’t the only one confused by that. “I thought you wanted me to carry building supplies?”

He shook his head. “Change of plans. I got some other guys who’re doing that.”

And, okay, maybe that made sense. But wouldn’t Wrecker’s strength be more useful helping with the rebuilding work instead of sitting around catching fish? He opened his mouth to ask why and was rewarded with a sharp elbow in his left side. Right, Crosshair had a point there, it would be stupid to get himself hurt worse when he was being given a way out.

About half an hour later, Wrecker sat by the sea, holding his fishing rod steady. As the minutes passed, he could feel the pain in his back lessen as his feeling of relaxation grew.

He looked across as Shep moved the bucket of fish backwards, before taking its place beside him.

“Looks like you’ve been doing good work,” he commented.

“I guess.”

“We’re repairing Nixret’s house,” Shep continued, as they both stared across the ocean. “Nix is old, he can’t see, he can barely walk anymore, he relies on the kindness of his neighbours to help him out everyday. But he’s one of the most interesting people I know. Do you think I don’t care about him because he can’t get around by himself?”

“No,” Wrecker replied, brow crinkling. It was obvious that Shep cared, he wouldn’t be organising all this if he didn’t. Then his brow creased further. “Omega told you what we talked about, didn’t she?”

Shep nodded, and Wrecker found himself tensing in a way that sent shocks of pain across his shoulder blades.

“She did, and I’m glad she did. And you should be glad you’ve got such a good sister.” Out of the corner of his eye, Wrecker could see that Shep was smiling at him, eyes full of concern. “You are a part of this community now Wrecker. And that won’t change if you can’t lift heavy objects. I like you because you’re you, not because of what you can do for me. And I’ve been told to tell you Lyana likes you because she thinks you’re her funniest uncle.”

“Oh,” Wrecker said, staring down at the water. He didn’t know what to say. It would probably have been easier to come up with something to say if he’d even known what to think.

“I don’t know what you boys have been through exactly,” Shep continued. “But I know whatever it was, it can’t have been easy. Even so, I’d appreciate it if you told me in the future when helping me out would hurt you.”

Wrecker nodded, still feeling blank.

“Alright then. Shall we get these fish back to the others?”

This right here was easily much firmer ground. “Sounds good,” he replied, managing a smile.

As they walked together, back towards the house his brothers were working on, Wrecker found himself thinking about what Omega had said earlier, and what Shep had said just then. It didn’t feel true, not exactly, and he knew that he’d have to discuss it with Hunter and the others later. But even if it didn’t feel true, that didn’t mean that it wasn’t true.

Maybe, they could be safe here, even when they weren’t useful?

[skinnybritishdudes]

So, holy shit. I, a person who has not written fic in a good fifteen years, suddenly decided to take a crack at this prompt from my own post the other day. It's got a bit of flirty/confident Edwin, some catwin, jealous Charles, and smooching.

I don't have AO3 yet so I'm just going to (trepidatiously) post it here and hope for the best haha don't be alarmed by my extreme vulnerability

3500 words, teen rating, no warnings.

The Case of the Tempting Mirror

“Of course it isn’t dangerous,” says Edwin. He’s standing just in front of the mirror in the corner of the office, wearing the green sweater Charles associates with the day he saved him from Hell. He’s looking back at Charles with an infuriatingly relaxed smile, head tilted slightly to one side. “He wouldn’t hurt me.” 

“He’s not the only threat out there, is he?” Charles huffs. “We ran into loads of dodgy stuff in Port Townsend.”

“He’ll protect me,” Edwin says. “Honestly, you don’t have to worry. It’s only that I asked him to gather some plant samples for me and told him I’d be by to check on his progress. It’s for research, Charles, and won’t take a tick. Nothing to get so worked up about.” He takes a step backward toward the mirror.

“He’ll protect you,” repeats Charles, nodding sourly, his mouth a downturned line. “Alright. Go on, then.” 

“We’ve been over this before,” says Edwin, more softly. “I can handle myself, and–”

“Right, got it,” says Charles. “I said go, didn’t I?” He flops down on the couch, looking straight ahead into the room instead of at Edwin as he leaves.

Edwin nods with a small sigh. “I will not be long,” he says, and takes another backward step before turning in one swift pivot to walk forward through the mirror and out of the office. 

The moment he’s gone, Charles growls loudly, his hands becoming fists on his knees. 

The fucking Cat King. Again. Couldn’t they ever be rid of that wanker? The first time Edwin said he was thinking about popping back over to see him, Charles thought he must be joking. 

“He was kind to me about Niko’s death,” Edwin had said, looking down. “And I think he’s sad, you know. I find myself wondering if he’s alright.”

“If he needs a friend he’ll have to find someone other than you, mate,” Charles had said. “He’s trapped you before, and you said yourself he’s a trickster. You can’t trust him.”

Edwin had been completely sure he’d be safe, though, and he wouldn’t entertain the possibility of Charles coming with him. He’d been so stupidly stubborn about it, and they’d bickered until the argument was exhausted unless Charles was willing to escalate it into a fight. Though he was panicked and angry at the situation, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. It felt desperate enough that he would be right to beg or threaten or shout if that’s what it took to keep Edwin safe, but he knew he couldn’t be Edwin’s best mate and also be the guy who tries to control what he does by threatening and shouting at him. If Edwin wouldn’t see reason, what could Charles do? He makes his own choices, in the end.

This was the fourth time. Each time with Edwin so irritatingly determined to go, so unmoved by Charles’ obvious visceral concern. Each time with the same tense mini-argument before Edwin swivels away from him so easily. 

Charles stands up, his hands still in fists hanging at his sides. He rolls his head around as if trying to ease tension in muscles that aren’t there, then begins pacing in long strides back and forth across the office. 

And Edwin says stuff like “just a tick,” and then comes back three hours later. Every minute of waiting is agony, with Charles never sure if he’ll be back in a moment or if this is just the beginning of a much longer nightmare. He never knows how long until it’s reasonable for him to be as afraid as he has been the entire time, at which agonizing moment his barely-contained panic might become appropriate. 

The most nauseating thing of all - if Charles could truly be nauseated - is the sort of lightness about Edwin when he gets back from his visits with the Cat King. He returns in a good mood, the subtle smile at the corner of his lips lingering for hours. It makes Charles want to hit something, and then he worries about himself over that urge. Not rational, is it? 

When Charles asks him what took so long, Edwin will say they got caught up talking. It isn’t that he was whisked away to some kind of time-warp space like the first time, he’s just hanging out with his friend the Cat King, on the other side of the world, and lost track of time because he wasn’t thinking about Charles at all. But he never gives much of an account of what they talked about that lasted hours, and Charles never feels like he actually understands what Edwin is doing over there. 

It’s like he can’t even bring himself to suspect the thing he suspects. It couldn’t be, could it? 

No. It couldn’t.

He growls in his chest again. Could it? 

Charles stops his pacing in the middle of the room, sighs again, and turns to look at the mirror. It could be hours more of this. Likely would, in fact. Part of him wishes Crystal were here to distract him and wonders if he should go find her, but a larger part feels like it’s appropriate for him to be here and agitated. He doesn’t want to be distracted from his worries about Edwin, he wants to address them. 

He takes two long steps toward the mirror, then sits on the edge of the desk facing it. As always, for a moment he wishes he could see his reflection, but even his memory of that image is foggy now. He hasn’t seen his own face in thirty-five years and can’t quite conjure the details. These days when he tries to imagine his own face, he sees Edwin’s, the only one with which he’s so intimately familiar. 

The mirror ripples, just subtly, sending waves through the reflection of the bookshelf behind him. He isn’t even touching it - not yet doing the thing he knows he shouldn’t do but is thinking about anyway - but the mirror can already feel him searching for Edwin and is responding to his anguish. 

Charles holds his hand up two inches from the glass surface, just suspended there for a moment like he’s stopping traffic. He can feel the energy of the mirror reaching out to him, and though he knows he really, really shouldn’t do this in the end he barely hesitates before letting his palm touch the turbulent surface. It clears almost immediately, showing Charles a dimly-lit bedroom he’s never seen before. The space is lit by lanterns and a tacky neon sign, shabby but with a large, round, satin-sheeted bed in the middle. Edwin is sitting at the head of the bed, cross-legged, his posture as sharp as ever but looking relaxed and at ease. The Cat King lays curled around him on the mattress, his head at Edwin’s left hand, his knees tucked up on the other side where Edwin’s right hand rests on his ankle. 

Charles watches as Edwin gazes down at the Cat King, his left hand moving to bury itself in the cat’s loose curls. They both smile, the Cat King slowly closes his eyes, and Charles feels like he’s choking. 

~*~*~

“You did very well,” Edwin murmurs, running his hand through the King’s hair slowly a few times before settling in to gently rub and scratch behind his ears. The cat’s purring vibrates the bed, the sound filling the room as he moves his head into Edwin’s touch, his body squirming against his legs. 

“Thank you,” sighs the Cat King. “Right now I can barely remember all the traipsing through the filthy woods I had to do to complete your little scavenger hunt so I guess it must have been worth it.” He rolls over just a little, enough to expose a wide strip of belly through the undone front of his velvet robe. 

“Your help is much appreciated,” says Edwin, his right hand moving up to rub the back of his knuckles lightly, gently across the Cat King’s presented belly. “And I’m happy to be able to give you something in return.” He turns his hand over to pet more firmly with his palm, adding some gentle scratches.

The Cat King sighs contentedly, arching his back a little against Edwin’s touch, then frowns. “You could just come and see me, you know,” he says. “Without making me do your little errands.” He flips over onto his side in one swift motion, propping his head up on his hand while Edwins’ fall away. The ghost quickly brings his hands back, clasping them in his lap. 

“I thought you liked making me happy,” Edwin says, teasing and earnest at the same time. “That is what you told me, is it not?”

It was rather lovely, actually, the first time Edwin had come back to see the Cat King. First, he was oddly touched to find the King had had mirrors installed all throughout his warehouse in hopes Edwin would come through one of them. But the way he smiled when he saw Edwin had radiated such genuine affection, it caught him off guard. There had always been games between them before, tension and fear and deceit. But when he stepped through the mirror this time, not even fully able to account for why he was doing it but feeling compelled, the strange cat-man smiled at him with the unguarded elation of a long lost friend. Edwin couldn't help but feel an unexpected tenderness toward him.

And then the cat had been so eager to please him. They had spent most of that first visit with Edwin perched on the pallet throne while the Cat King sat below him, rubbing against his leg while they talked. The purring was actually remarkably soothing and satisfying, and Edwin found he enjoyed it very much. Something else he found satisfying was the feeling of the Cat King being at his command; of having him bound the way he had once bound Edwin to this town. So he took advantage of it, to both their satisfaction. 

“Yes,” says the Cat King with another sigh. “I did say that. And I meant it, dumbass that I am.” He pouts. 

“The knowledge you gather for me is useful,” Edwin says. “And don’t I always give you the reward I promise?”

The Cat King makes a hmphing noise in his throat. “I do like the petting,” he says. “But it also sort of makes it seem like you wouldn’t come and see me if I weren’t useful.” He pushes himself up and in one graceful motion is sitting knees-to-knees with Edwin on the bed. 

“You could refuse the tasks, you know,” says Edwin. “I’m not forcing your will in any way, unlike what you did to me.” His words have an edge, but there’s still a smile at one corner of his mouth. 

“You’re manipulating me with your adorableness and it’s humiliating,” says the Cat King. “It is like a fucking magic trick.” His frown softens. “I mean, look at your eyes. How am I supposed to live?” He leans forward, gazing into them sadly.

Edwin quirks his head to one side. “My eyes?” he says. 

“They’re, like, unfairly gorgeous. You didn’t know that?” 

“Actually, I–” Edwin fumbles. “As a ghost, I can’t see my reflection or be photographed so I haven’t seen myself in a very long time. I barely remember my own features.” When he tries, he sees Charles’ instead. That rich, warm, inviting brown, so full of kindness and compassion.

“That’s tragic,” says the Cat King in a breath, laying one hand on either side of Edwin’s face. “They are deep, deep, magical green. And so soft and beautiful. You deserve to know.”

Edwin looks down, embarrassed. He feels fluttery, too, though. Light and jittery. He flicks his eyes back up to look at the Cat King. 

“Are you ever going to let me kiss you?” the cat asks softly, hovering close enough to Edwin’s face to deliver if given the go-ahead. 

Edwin grimaces, and the Cat King groans, pulling back. “Are you kidding? You are the worst!” He throws his hands up. “Aaand I love you. What a disgusting nightmare.” The Cat King grumbles, his hand moving to slash across Edwin’s lips before the ghost has a chance to react. A glittery gold mark appears on his mouth and Edwin recognizes this feeling, knows he will be forced to tell the truth to whatever the Cat King asks now. It felt like a violation before and does again, but it’s also a dizzyingly liberated feeling.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” asks the Cat King, too frustrated to formulate a more thoughtful question. 

“I love Charles,” says Edwin simply, as if that’s the entire story. He supposes it is. 

“I mean, duh,” says the Cat King. “Everybody knows that. But does he love you back?” 

“No,” says Edwin. He doesn’t feel compelled to explain further; the truth isn’t complicated. 

“Then what’s the difference if you let yourself loosen up with me?” 

“I don’t know,” Edwin says. “I want to, in a way. That is, I–I believe I could because Charles truly doesn’t love me that way and I am increasingly intrigued, you know, by all these new feelings. And you are certainly not Charles but I cannot deny that you appeal to me, and I find myself wondering what would happen if I did try to let myself go with you.”

“You should let go,” says the Cat King, moving close to Edwin again. “Eternity is a long time to fucking yearn, and I can help you with that.”

Edwin moves his head without thinking, just a little and just in the right direction to indicate receptivity, and the Cat King eagerly moves an inch closer, so ready but wanting to be sure. Then Edwin exhales in a way that sounds like surrender and lets his eyes close, and the King closes the gap between them. Edwin is surprised when pushes back and lets his mouth move, firm and curious. They kiss only for a moment, and Edwin feels it: a tingle, a warmth, something more visceral than the sweet, chaste kiss he shared with Monty. The Cat King purring into Edwin’s mouth causes his whole being to feel like it’s vibrating in a way that isn’t unpleasant in the slightest, and he finds that even without a body he can still shiver. 

Edwin’s eyes are half closed and dazed as they pull apart, the Cat King exultant but meaning to check that he’s still OK before going any further. As it turns out, he doesn’t have time to ask the question.

“That’s enough of that, then,” says Charles in a rough voice, twirling his cricket bat as he emerges from the mirror at the far end of the room. He advances in battle stance, feeling very sure something is going to get smashed to bits tonight and the Cat King will be lucky if it’s not his face. 

“Charles–” Edwin begins, shocked, with no idea what to say next. He would blush if he could, embarrassed to have been caught like this but also surprised by the surge of emotion he’s feeling at seeing Charles this way. 

Charles would not have been able to describe what he was feeling looking at Edwin in this moment, either–the sharp ache and the rage that had sent him hurtling through the mirror, the need that is swirling in his chest like fury. 

“Excuse me,” says the Cat King, turning to face Charles. “You are not invited to this rendez-vous and I will absolutely fuck you up.” 

“We’ll see who gets fucked up, mate,” says Charles. “Get away from him or I’ll–”

“Oh, are you under the impression he’s not enjoying my attention, Charles?” the Cat King purrs, eyes wide with mischief masquerading as innocence. “Look, he’s still got my mark on him, so he can’t lie. Edwin, didn’t you want me to kiss you?”

“Yes,” Edwin says, his voice emphatic but his face miserable. He sounds like he’s choking, and it reminds Charles painfully of that day on the stairs in Hell. “But only because I know that Charles won’t.” He gulps. “You were right, eternity is a long time and I’ve been longing more and more to experience–oh, do take this cursed thing off my mouth, please!”

The Cat King touches Edwin’s lips perfunctorily and the gold mark disappears. He then scoots away from him and stands, crossing his arms and turning away, stung. 

Edwin turns to look up at Charles, standing next to the bed beside him, and opens his mouth to speak.

“Edwin, do you want me to kiss you?” asks Charles, before he can decide what to say.

“Yes,” breathes Edwin without a beat’s hesitation. “But not if you–”

While Edwin is answering, Charles is climbing onto the bed, his long limbs surrounding him in an instant. He drops the cricket bat on the mattress beside them and takes Edwin’s face in both of his hands. 

“I think the fuck NOT,” says the Cat King, kicking the mattress hard with one foot and sending Charles and Edwin sprawling, almost falling off the other side of the bed. “You two will not be having your big romantic moment in my fucking bed, thank you very goddamn much. Are you fucking kidding me?” He points at Edwin. “Don’t you dare come back here, do you understand me? You take your scrawny ghosty boyfriend and your nasty teasing lying manipulating–”

Charles and Edwin scramble off the bed and move quickly toward the mirror, holding hands. 

“I truly did not mean–” begins Edwin as he passes the Cat King. 

“Fuck you,” the King interrupts. Edwin grimaces, his eyebrows knitting together in remorse. He gives the Cat King one last look, then follows Charles through the mirror.

“But let me know if you need anything,” says the Cat King pathetically, flopping back onto the mattress. “I love you,” he whines, and it turns into a meow as a plume of pink smoke envelopes him. He becomes a sleek black cat with green eyes, slinking slowly to the head of the bed to curl up in the warm spot where Edwin had been sitting. 

~*~*~

The moment they’re back in the office, Charles turns and advances on Edwin, arms outstretched to embrace him. 

Edwin takes a step back and then to the side, moving away. “Wait,” he says, one hand on his chest. “Let’s take a breath. What is happening here, Charles?”

“You said you wanted me to kiss you, didn’t you?” Charles feels a desperate kind of urgency but forces himself to slow down, and he gives Edwin a smile. 

“I did, yes,” says Edwin, straightening his posture and casting his eyes to the side, trying to compose himself, too. “But I know that your feelings are not the same as mine. You don’t have to pretend for me, you know, frankly the idea of that is–” he makes a sour face.

“That’s not it,” says Charles. He takes a step closer. “I’m sorry for spying on you. That wasn’t right, I know. But I wondered–I kept wondering what you were getting up to with the Cat King for all that time.”

“Oh? And that gave you license to invade my privacy, did it?” Edwin quirks an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. 

“It didn’t,” says Charles, his smirk becoming a bashful smile. “But I’m not perfect, and it’s what I did.”

“And you didn’t like what you found me getting up to, is that it?”

“Sort of,” says Charles. “But more like, I felt like I wanted to tear the Cat King limb from limb for touching you like that.” 

“A bit extreme, perhaps,” says Edwin, his face fighting desperately to crack into a grin. His exhilaration in this moment is palpable and thrumming, even without a heart to race.  

“Just a feeling, innit,” says Charles. “I wouldn’t actually have done it, of course. But it made me realize some important things.” He takes another step forward and reaches out to take one of Edwin’s hands in his, pulling him closer still. “Like how much I wanted to touch you like that. And that I didn’t want anybody else to, either. And once I knew it, of course I had to tell you, didn’t I? Especially since the alternative was watching you snog that creepy prick.”

Edwin doesn’t wait any longer, moving his free hand to the back of Charles’ neck and pushing himself up to kiss him with his joyfully irrepressible smile. Charles drops Edwin’s hand and winds his arms around his waist, pulling him in tight while Edwin wraps both arms around his neck. There is no room to regret that they don’t have skin to feel with as the explosion of love and delight reverberates all throughout their beings, crackling like electricity and unfurling like endless blooming vines. Like reality itself was exhaling in relief, the world becoming the way it was always meant to be. 

[jillyfoo]

Changling Encore

What if they couldn’t wash off the changeling spores right away?

 (We will also say the 2nd fight with the gargoyles ended without them figuring out how the changeling mushrooms worked.) POV: Tallchuck

Izutsumi as a kobold dives into her dumplings and makes them disappear. She is becoming less picky now that she’s part dog. The now tallest member of the party couldn’t taste each individual flavor of the meat as distinctly as when he was a halfling but the savory taste is great regardless. To think the strange mushrooms can change creatures down to the muscles and cells. Chilchuck finishes his meal and feels unsatisfied. Makes sense because a tallman would need to eat a lot more calories than a halfling. At six and a half feet tall he guessed he’s probably three times the weight he was as a halfling. There’s no point worrying about gaining weight and springing traps cause he’s obviously way too heavy already as a tallman. He asks for seconds. The party stops briefly noticing his act making him feel self conscious. Senshi as an elf looks overjoyed and fills his plate with more dumplings. 

“You have grown so much. Please make sure to eat your fill.” He said in a sweet feminine, yet to Chilchuck, also unnerving voice.

“Hey. I want some too.” Laios protests. Laios as a plump dwarf would probably eat the same amount as his normal tallman form, Chilchuck figured.

“You can have mine. I’m already full.” Marcille, now a tiny halfling, gives her leftovers to Laios. Chilchuck continues to eat, agitated that he is being stared at by everyone in the party. He’s not used to standing out. He sighs. “So as I am now it looks like I can’t do my job properly anymore. Marcille, I am going to have to guide you though disabling step traps as we encounter them.”

Laios buds in. “You’re right Chilchuck. I was thinking that we will have to reassign our roles in the party until we get our normal bodies back. I’m going to teach you some close combat.”

“I can also teach you magic!” Marcille piped in. Damn it, Chilchuck thought. He had hoped they would forget about their last battle debacle.

“Hey, that’s too much at once!” He pointed at Senshi. “You should teach the elf magic!” Senshi drops the pot he was cleaning. The elf’s arms curled into his delicate chest. He stammers.

“You know how I feel about magic. I.. I don’t feel comfortable with it at all. I’m not… you all may have changed, but I’m still the same on the inside.” He pleads to them with tearful, innocent doe eyes. Everyone could not help but leer at him in disbelief. Laios the ever present optimist breaks the silence.

“We are going to have to adapt as best as we can. Let’s for now clean up the dishware and then look over our inventory to see what weapons will work best in our new bodies.”

Not too long after cleaning up, Chilchuck looked over all the weapons in his possession. Throwing knives. That could work, but will run out if they can’t be recovered. Blade knife and bowie knife. He knew Laios would say that because of the aggro his large form will receive in combat, longer blades such as swords would work better. Knives are meant for surprise stabs like Kabru’s attack on chimera dragon Falin. Lastly, the bow. He won’t be able to use it. His hand practically enveloped it. It looks like a child’s- Oh hell no! All his adult life he’s been working to not be seen as a kid from the other races! How dare that creep into his head now that he’s been tallman for just a few hours!

“Lights out.” Senshi calls to him from behind. The beastly dwarf turned into a paper thin shadow of himself struggles to drag his ax to him. “Borrow this and protect us.” Senshi gazes up at him like a princess at her champion. A breeze seemed to be coming from somewhere blowing his long black curly locks. Willing to do anything to get out of this awkward moment Chilchuck reluctantly accepts the gift. There’s no way I can fight with this shoddy thing.

Seeing that there was little else to do, Chilchuck undoned Laios’ borrowed armor and settled into his blankets to sleep. Thankfully Izutsumi seems to be bothering someone else tonight. Everything sounds so calm and quiet as he drifts off.

“Chilchuck!”

“Wha!” The tallman startles awake. “Laios… lights out.” Chilchuck growls.

“Oh that’s no problem for me. I can see in the dark now that I’m a dwarf.” Laios laughs obnoxiously.

“Go to bed, Laios!” Marcille calls out from the darkness, obviously annoyed. Laios tones down into a whisper. 

“So I was thinking about what can be used to aid you fight and I remembered that when I started out fighting monsters I used a shield. That should distract the monsters while the rest of us take it down. I recovered my old shield from the floor we first fought the dragon in and I’ll let you have it. I don’t know if we will have much time to practice-”

“I can still hear you, Laios! Shut up and go to sleep already!”

“I’m sorry! Marcille!” Laios sets down his shield next to him. “I will leave this here for you. Everything is going to be fine. We will make it work.”, he reassures Chilchuck in a cheery tone.

A worry seed plants firmly in Chilchuck’s mind. He had very little direct combat experience. Heck Kabru and his party had way more experience than him and how many times did his party find them dead these past few days? It’s gonna be the mimics all over again except Marcille can’t revive anymore cause she’s a halfling. Nothing good will come of this.

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Training- Legolas x Hobbit!Reader

Summary: Legolas comes to help reader with sword training and some heated confessions are made.

Word count: 1, 662

A/N: I requested this story to @intoxicated-chan a while ago because I wasn’t sure if I’d ever write it but now I have, so if you like my version then definitely read theirs here

The forest clearing was still as you snuck away from the group to practise. While Boromir was training Merry and Pippin, he had joked that you don’t need training, as you were vicious enough with your knife.

You wanted to be brave and tough, to do your part in the fellowship, but living in the Shire you had not had much experience with fighting. A little dagger you had once bought and sometimes kept on you being the only weapon at your disposal felt a little pathetic.

Aragorn had seen your disdain at the comment and had handed you one of his smaller swords and told you of this clearing.

“Take this, there’s a little clearing just past those woods. Remember your stance and fluid movement. Be back before the sun is low and come back if there’s trouble.” He had quietly encouraged you with a fatherly smile and a nod of his head.

Now you stood in the field, trying to remember what you had briefly seen Boromir teach your friends, as you heard someone approach from behind. Swinging your borrowed sword viciously, but gracelessly, you saw it was only Legolas.

“I’m so sorry for disturbing your training, shield maiden of the Shire. I only worry that one so lovely and vicious might just be taken from me.” Legolas jokingly smirked down at you.

Since the beginning of this journey, Legolas had often liked to joke and compliment you. If he had been a fellow hobbit you might believe he was flirting, but he was an elf prince and you couldn’t believe such things, even if you did want them to be true.

Though he was not handsome in the way male hobbits are, he had a different kind of beauty. Where male hobbits beauty comes from their actions and the way they can make you laugh, Legolas’ simple came from who he was. Legolas is beautiful like how a flower is, it needn’t do anything but sway and bloom and the beauty is there.

You couldn’t stare at him for long, and you tried not to show how his words affected you. Being a hobbit on this journey you already had to prove yourself enough, but being a woman made it even more difficult. Your brother, Samwise, could get by because he was kind and had a confidence in his own right, but you felt you had to try hard to be taken seriously.

“I’m only trying to earn my place among you all, there is no need to make fun.” You stood up for yourself, trying to sound more brave and strong, and less like a whining child.

It seems your attempts at strength worked as Legolas was taken aback.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to offend you. I had only come to see if I could aid you with your training. I do not jest when I say that you have a warrior spirit, it could just do with some refining is all.” Legolas gently explained with a sweet and kind smile.

“What would an elf know of swordsmanship? I thought your kind were archers.” You asked him, still on the defence.

Legolas smirked down at you as he began to step closer, now barely an arms length from you.

“My people have many skills, little warrior,” he began to explain as he was now crouching before you, ���don’t forget I am not as young as I seem and as a prince I have had more training then just archery.” He teases back as he flicks your nose cutely.

“Well what kind of refining do I need, Mr. Fancy Elvish Prince.” You tease back, taking a bit of his braid from behind his ear and flicking it, as he had flicked your nose.

His lovely face shone as he sweetly laughed at your returned gesture.

“Well how about we start with stance, little warrior.” He smiled warmly at you as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingers ever so slightly on your cheek.

Feeling his finger lightly brush your cheek had your eyes fluttering, but luckily you were quick to recover as you turned to show your stance.

Remembering what you had heard from Boromirs training, and seen in the fights you had encountered thus far, you held your stance as best you could.

“Not bad, but just remember,” suddenly you felt Legolas’ delicate but strong fingers on your waist, “your hips need to be facing towards your enemy.” You hotly whisper in your ear, making you shudder with need.

Though he had adjusted your stance, his hands did not leave your body, in fact he adjusted his position to hold you closer. He was now knelt on one knee as his other leg was bent beside you, and his front was pushed more into your back as his hands slid down to your hip.

Your sword was becoming heavy, but even as you dropped it, he didn’t seem to mind, in fact it just made his touches more eager and bold.

Now holding your hips, he pushed you back into himself and you could feel how excited this was making him, as his hardness pushed against your back.

“You are so beautiful, y/n, I just can’t help but need to touch you. Please tell me if this makes you uncomfortable.” He gently whispered in your ear.

Even as you could feel his need pulsing through him, he was still so gentle and sweet.

Turning your body in his grip slightly to face him, your small hands run against his cheek and into his soft hair.

“Don’t stop, Legolas.” You softly spoke as you hold onto his hair, pushing him closer to you.

At hearing your approval, he can’t help but let out a growl as he pushes you into the soft grass below with a passionate kiss. Your grip on his hair tightens as he lowers your body and his hovers above your.

With one hand beside your head to keep his body from pressing too hard against yours, his other gently runs up and down your form. His sweet touch beginning at your neck, down your breast, your waist, your hip, your legs and back again.

His touch on your body was delicate and sweet but his kiss was another but. His kisses were dominant and desperate as his mouth devoured yours. As he deepened the kiss and his tongue slipped into your mouth, you tugged on his hair even tighter, a muffled moan being heard from both of you.

His lips broke from yours and his grip tightened against your thigh as his head pulled back with a moan. Looking down on you, his gaze was animalistic and you could see how the kiss was affecting him from the tent in his trousers.

Growling once again, he bent down as he pressed open mouthed kisses across your neck and chest, making sweet moans and whimpers pass through your parted lips.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted you, little one. I try to be good and respectful of one so sweet but you make my body become obsessed.” He confesses as he kisses along your chest.

Raising his head, there is a serious look in his eye as he gazes at you.

“I can not stand to have another near you. When Boromir carried you the other day, I felt a jealousy I had never felt before. I want you to be mine and me be yours.” He continued his confession, his touch now much more gentle as he sweetly caressed your face.

Hearing this makes you realise that all his comments and jokes truly were flirting, and that you weren’t just imagining it. While you want to live in and embrace this moment, you can’t help but feel a self consciousness creep through your mind.

Your hand once in his hair now comes down to play with the ties of your shirt as you begin to worry.

“Legolas, you’re an elvish prince and I’m just a hobbit from the Shire. I would love nothing more than to be with you, but it’s not right.” You explain as you begin to feel tears fill your eyes.

Your tears do not have a chance to drop however, as Legolas wipes them away and lifts your head. Looking up into his eyes, you see nothing but love and compassion.

“I am not bound by anything that means I can not care for you. I am my own being and if my heart has chosen you and if you will have me, then it is you I want,” gently he lifts you to sit in his lap as he continues to explain, “you have captured my heart in a way I can not explain and I want you in every way there is to want another. Please do not push me away because of our differences.” He sweetly reassures you, his lips coming to gently press against yours.

When he pulls back from the gentle kiss, his head is still pressed against yours.

“If you promise to kiss and touch me like that again, I am yours.” You cheekily assure him.

A light chuckle leaves his lips as his smile grows.

“Oh believe me, little warrior, I intend to do much more than just kiss and touch you like that.” He assures as he stares hungrily at you.

“And though I wish to take you right on this forest floor without a care in the world, I think we unfortunately need to head back.”

Looking away from his gorgeous eyes, you realise how low the sun was truly getting. Before you could think to stand, Legolas is lifting you in his arms, causing a small gasp to leave your lips.

“I’ll put you back down as we get closer to camp, but I just need to hold you a bit longer.” Legolas tells you, with a sweet kiss to your temple.

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hello,

could you write a Hannibal fanfic, where the reader is Will‘s student ( very protective of her) and Hannibal takes a interest in her, after psych. evaluation? He starts wooing her over and Will (platonic) doesn‘t like it at all. In the end there is smut between the reader and Hannibal after a dinner party ?(Maybe Will later here‘s from Crawford about it, because Crawford went to Hannibal‘s house to get him for a case)

Hannibal x Reader: Off limits

Warnings: smut, kissing, patient x therapist, fingering, pet names, cowgirl, ridding, penetration ( p in v), no use of y/n, female reader

Words count: 4,6K (dear lord 🙃)

“I don’t know if this is a good idea Will.”

“Why not?”

“Talking to your psychiatrist about my shit? Don’t you think that crossing some kind of boundary?”

“First he's not my physiatrist, not officially anyway. And secondly I would say drinking at my house crosses more boundaries than this. That didn’t stop you though right?”

“Yeah I guess you’re right.”

“Plus you need this. Talking to someone about stuff helps.”

“Fine. You’re sure he’s okay with it right?”

A week ago Will had mentioned you to Hannibal for the first time since he’d started having his sessions. The conversation had begun because Hannibal had asked him if he had anyone in his corner that he could trust. Will had immediately thought of you. Despite being his student you had helped him through a lot of stuff and pretty soon he considered you more of a friend then a student. He worried people would accuse him of favoritism but you were one smart cookie so he didn’t really have to worry about that. You knew your shit. No one could deny that. Of course Will also worried about people spreading rumors that you were sleeping with him but when he’d shared his concerns with you you’d just shrugged. 

“People are gonna say shit about us anyway Will. I’m not gonna cut our friendship because of what some idiots say about us.”

He’d known he could count on you for anything but he could tell you were dealing with a lot more shit then you’d let on.  It was one of the reasons why he’d told Hannibal about you. Will wondered if maybe talking with someone you knew he trusted would put your mind at ease. So here the two of you were standing in front of Hannibal's office door. You fiddle with your fingers trying your best to call your racing mind. Will notices your fidgeting causing him to grab onto your hand. You look up at him with a small smile which he returns. You hear the door open making your head snap to look at it.

Hannibal takes in the sight before him, his eyes catching on the way Wills hand is latched onto yours. He forces his gaze to move back up to your face. His eyes soften a bit at the sight of you. You have a sort of deer in headlights look in your eyes and Hannibal can’t help but feel a bit of pity. From what Will had told him you weren’t super into the whole therapy thing but you’d accepted to talk to him because Will thought it would help. Still from the look in your eyes Hannibal could tell you were hesitant. He would have to convince you that you could trust him. 

Dr. Lecter gave you a welcoming smile before stepping to the side and gesturing for you to enter. You looked at Will for a moment, a twinge of fear present on your features. Will simply gave your hand a squeeze before letting it go.

“It'll be alright. Dr. Lecter will take care of you. I’ll be here waiting for you.”

“You aren’t going to come in?”

“I’ve found that the session works best if it's just the two of us.”

You glanced at Hannibal as he spoke, trying to make up your mind about him. He placed his palm out to you, inviting you to take his hand. After a moment of hesitation you accepted his invitation, taking his hand in yours and allowing him to guide you inside. He released your palm once you were inside, turning to close the door behind you.

You watched as Will's face slowly became out of view, his boyish smile no longer able to be seen. You turned around, taking in your surroundings. You’d never done this before so you didn’t really know how it worked. Should you sit down? Or were you supposed to lay down like they showed in the movies? 

Luckily for you Hannibal seemed to sense your confusion. He made his way to his chair, taking a seat before gesturing to the empty seat before him. 

“Please make yourself comfortable.”

You did as he asked, making your way over to the chair. You moved a bit trying to find a comfortable position. Hannibal watched you squirm a bit, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You were quite a sight. Will seemed to have forgotten to mention that. Not that that bothered Hannibal. In fact he welcomed the surprise.

Once you were satisfied with your position you stopped fidgeting and raised your gaze to look at Hannibal. For the first time you saw him. Really saw him. He was oddly attractive with a sort of Victorian beauty. You weren’t used to guys like that. In the FBI most of the guys were covered in scars and built like monster trucks. They needed to look tough, even if they weren’t. That was just part of the job. 

But the man before you was nothing like that. With his tailored suit and perfectly combed hair he looked like a man of great importance. The sort of guy you’d call when you needed tickets into some sort of high society party. And yet he had this sort of energy to him that made you feel he wasn’t as innocent as he seemed. If anything his looks hid behind them a sort of unfiltered violence. But somehow you didn’t fear him. In fact you found yourself suddenly intrigued by a man you’d only exchanged less than a few words with. 

That was about to change however. Because the moment Hannibal started talking to you it seemed like everything you’d been holding in for years just started to spill out. You told him about how you were treated in the FBI, about how no one thought you had it in you to deal with this kind of stuff. You told him about your home life and your relationship with your family. Your deepest thoughts spilled onto the floor of Hannibal's office and he didn’t seem to mind. He listened to you with so much attention and understanding that it shocked you a bit. By the end of the session you felt like someone had taken the weight of your shoulders. 

Will watched you come out of the room, the sound of your laugh filling his ears as you and Hannibal finished talking. A sudden wave of anger filled Will's chest. What had Hannibal said to make you laugh in such an unfiltered manner? The thing about Will was that he was very protective of you. He saw you like a little sister so he couldn’t help but become on edge when in the span of one hour Hannibal had managed to strip away any hesitancy you had entered the session with. He was glad you seemed lighter but he also knew Hannibal and he couldn’t help but worry about his intentions with you. 

“I’ll see you next week Dr. Lecter.”

“Just Hannibal is fine dear. There’s no need for these pleasantries.”

“Okay then Hannibal. Same time next week?”

“See you then dear. It was nice seeing you Will.”

Will rose from his seat giving Hannibal one final glance before making his way to you. He placed his hand on your back guiding you towards the door. Hannibal didn't miss the way Will looked at him, but the thought disappeared when he saw the smile you gave him before you left. There was no denying it now. Hannibal found himself very interested in you. If there was something about Hannibal it was that he got what he wanted. And right now what he wanted was you.

You continued to have your sessions with Hannibal. Sometimes you’d talk about the FBI and your studies. Other times you’d talk of your dreams of the future. And then there were days where you felt like you had nothing to say so you’d convince Hannibal to tell you about himself. You’d begun to enjoy your sessions. The closer the day came the more anxious you became. You found yourself contemplating what to wear to therapy. Even though you knew your feelings weren’t exactly “professional” you couldn’t get yourself to care. You’d often catch Hannibal looking at you in ways that didn’t scream professionalism. The more you talked to him the more you felt like you were becoming friends and then one day Hannibal decided to make up his mind.

You were walking around the room, a habit you’d developed during your sessions. Hannibal watched you move around the room, his eyes following the sway of your hips. You had been talking about Will and Hannibal couldn’t  seem to hold his tongue any longer.

“Are you interested in Will Graham?  Romantically I mean.”

“What? No way! I mean Will is great and all but I see him more like an older brother then anything. He’s been there for me you know?”

You turned to look at Hannibal, your eyes finding him. He stared up at you with a blank look.

“Why do you ask?”

“Oh you just talk alot about him is all.”

“Oh come on Hannibal. Talking about someone a lot doesn’t mean you like them. You of all people should know that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you talk about Dr Bloom a lot but you’re not….interested in her.”

Hannibal watched your brows furrow for a moment, your gaze suddenly glued to the ground. 

“Unless you are and I've just read it completely wrong.”

You tried to keep your voice steady and impassive but Hannibal could see the slight disappointment in your tone. He called out your name forcing you to return your gaze to him. You glanced down at him in curiosity. 

“You are right. Talking about someone doesn't mean you like them.”

You held your breath for a moment awaiting for the verbal confirmation of what you already imagined. 

“I am not romantically interested in Dr. Bloom. I merely respect her as a professional.”

You let out a small sigh, trying your hardest to not show the joy you felt. Hannibal rose from his seat making his way to his desk. You watched him open one of the drawers grabbing a piece of paper. He made his way back to you standing mere inches from you. You looked at the piece of paper in his hand before grabbing it. Your eyes ran over the words scrawled out in his handwriting.

“What’s this?”

“An invitation. I’m having a dinner party on Saturday and I'd love for you to come.”

Will had told you about Hannibal's dinner parties and his custom of inviting people over for dinner but you never imagined you’d be one of these lucky few. A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. You looked up at Hannibal catching the way his eyes narrowed in on your lips. 

“Thank you. I’ll be there.”

“Wonderful. It seems our time is up. I’ll see you at the party then.”

He walked you over to the door opening it for you. You nodded your head in thanks, making your way out. Just as Hannibal was about to close the door you spun around.

“Oh um… I've never been to a dinner party. What should I wear?”

It seemed like a silly question but you wanted to fit in with Hannibal's friends. You wanted to show him you could keep up with him. Hannibal looked at you for a moment before speaking.

“Wear whatever you feel like dear. I’m sure you’ll look beautiful in anything you choose. Your presence is the only thing that matters to me.”

Your heart almost stopped at Hannibal's words. It's had been a while since someone had given you such an unfiltered and direct compliment. You were a bit taken aback. In a good way of course.

Hannibal had just revealed to you, in a short amount of words, that he found you beautiful in any way and that he enjoyed being around you. Your mouth was dry as you tried to force yourself to speak. You managed to make your brain work enough to squeak out a small ‘Thank you until Saturday’ before racing to your car. 

When Saturday finally came you were practically buzzing with anxiety. You’d tried on three different outfits and settled on one you thought fit in with a dinner party, something stylish but not too flashy. The whole drive over to Hannibal's house you couldn’t seem to calm the hammering of your heart. You tried blasting music to calm yourself but it didn’t work. Fortunately your brain seemed to go into automatic mode because before you knew it you were parking in front of Hannibal's home. You stared at the house from the car window, noticing the lights peeking through the curtains. You took a deep breath in trying to dull the anxiousness you felt.

“He invited you. He wants you here. There is nothing to worry about.”

You stepped out of the car making your way to the door. You thought of knocking for a moment but you doubted he’d be able to hear it over the classical music that seeps through the door. Your finger moved to ring the doorbell, heels tapping the ground as you waited. You turned around talking in the rest of the houses on the street. 

Hannibal made his way to the door tugging it open. He didn’t know who to expect, he’d invited quite a lot of people and many of them still hadn’t arrived. All thoughts seemed to leave his mind when his eyes caught onto your frame. You had your back turned to him, the backless dress you’d decided to wear allowing him to see your bare skin. He stared at you for a moment opting to bask in your beauty before calling your attention. 

You spun on your heels as the music suddenly grew louder, eyes falling on hannibal. He was wearing a suit like he always was but you could tell this one was special. You were suddenly relieved by your choice of clothing. 

“Good evening dear.”

“Hi.”

“You look exquisite. But then again I knew you would. Please come on in.”

You took a cautious step forward entering his home. Hannibal closed the door behind you. 

“Come there are some people I want you to meet.”

He placed his palm on your back guiding you around the room. You were used to Will doing that when he was around you but it felt different with Hannibal. There was something arousing about the feeling of his bare skin on yours. You welcomed the feeling, moving across the room full of people with ease. Hannibal didn’t leave your side the entire party. Whenever he needed to do something he’d ofer his forearm to you, a silent request for you to join him. You laughed along with his friends and filled yourself up with the vast variety of food Hannibal had prepared. 

As the night went on people began to leave. They’d thank Hannibal for the invitation and go on their way. Oftentimes they’d thank you for hosting as well and you simply didn’t have it in you to correct them. You understood that the way you behaved with Hannibal made it seem like you were an item and even though you knew it was wrong you felt a thrill at the thought.

You finished saying goodbye to the last few people left at the party, closing the door behind you. Once you made sure it was locked you made your way over to the kitchen. Hannibal stood before the counter, his hands working on drying a glass of wine. His head snapped up at the sound of your heels against the floor. You smiled at him, making your way to where he was. 

“Need help?”

“No that's alright. There are only a few left.”

“Okay”

You turned to look at the clock seeing the time.

“It’s already that late? I should probably get going.”

You didn’t want to leave but you knew better than to overstep. Hannibal hadn't invited you to stay over. He'd invited you to the dinner party and that had already ended. Hannibal placed the glass in the cupboard before turning to look at you.

“Don’t go yet. There is something I want to show you.”

“Oh okay.”

“Go wait in the living room, I'll be there in a bit.”

You made your way over to the living room. Your feet were starting to hurt so you decided to take off your heels, leaving them by the couch. You walked around the room, making your way over to an odd looking instrument. You sat down on the bench in front of it, eyes moving over the instrument as you tried to understand what it was. 

“It’s a theremin.”

Your head snapped over to where Hannibal stood. He had removed his vest and suit jacket leaving him in only his dress shirt. 

“How do you play it?”

Hannibal made his way to you. You looked up at him when he stopped next to were you sat.

“May i?”

“Yeah of course.”

Hannibal moved to sit behind you. You sucked in a breath at the feeling of his chest against your back.

“It’s a difficult instrument. You must find the right pitch.”

You watched Hannibal move his hand over the empty air, a small gasp leaving your lips as sound began to come out of the instrument. Hannibal turned to look at you. His heart warmed at the smile that had spread over your face. 

“Would you like to try?”

“Oh sure.”

“Give me your hand.”

You lifted your arm allowing Hannibal to grasp your hand in his own.

“Relax your fingers. And try to keep your hand steady.”

You were finding it rather difficult to stop shaking due to the closeness you had to Hannibal. Every time he spoke you could feel his hot breath on your neck and your mind couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have his lips on your skin. Hannibal guided you hand with his. Sound filled the room once more but it wasn’t as nice sounding as when Hannibal had played himself.

“This is hard.”

“It is. The theremin requires a lot of practice. You have to be good with your hands.”

You wondered if he’d meant the innuendo or if he was simply talking and your diary mind had understood something else but you weren't about to waste your opportunity.

“You must have quite skilled hands then Hannibal.”

“I haven’t had any complaints yet.”

A small whine escaped your mouth, immediately followed by a pathetic sigh of Hannibal's name. HIs hand had found its way to your thigh, fingers drawing small shapes on the skin. Instinctively your body relaxed into his frame, your back pressing up against his chest. Hannibal's hand continued to travel down your thigh moving closer and closer to where you wanted him most. His lips found their way to your neck placing kisses to the skin. Your head moved to the side, offering up more of your neck up to him. He sucked a hickey onto you, marking you as his. 

“The body is a lot like a theremin.”

Your body jolted forward as his fingers found their way to your pussy. He reached into your underwear, slender fingers moving against your folds. You reached for his thigh hands wrapping around it in desperation. 

“You just have to find the right pitch to make someone-” 

A moan ripped through your body as he entered his fingers into you. 

“Sing.”

Your legs widened, allowing Hannibal to move with more freedom. His fingers moved into you at a slow pace. If it weren't for the pleasure he was bringing you you would almost think he was trying to torture you. Your free hand found its way to his cheek forcing him to turn to look at you. You place your forehead against his, panting as his thumb found your clit.

Hannibal watched your brows furrow as your eyes rolled back in your head for a second, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. He adored you like this. Completely wrapped around his finger.  Your nose bumped against his as you moved to kiss him. His lips welcomed you with ease, mouth opening to let your tongue in. Your muscle moved against his as he continued to pleasure you with his hands. You disconnected your lips from Hannibal, a small string of spit continuing to connect him to you. You were starting to get closer to your orgasm and Hannibal could tell. Your hand latched onto his shoulder, nails digging into the skin beneath his shirt. He kept his face close to yours as he continued to work on making you cum. Your breath fanned over his nose as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Your hips bucked up into Hannibal's hand searching for the last bit of friction you needed. With a skilled move of his thumb over your clit Hannibal had you cumming on his fingers. Your body spasmed against him, head falling onto his shoulder as white flashed over your vision.  

Hannibal watches your chest rise and fall rapidly as you float back to consciousness. He removes his fingers from your pussy guiding them to your lips. You open your mouth to him, sucking on his digits eagerly. Your eyes snapped open as he removed his fingers from your mouth, placing them inside his own for a moment before releasing them with a pop. You look at him dumbly, your mind completely fogged from your orgasm. Hannibal guides his hand to wrap around your face. You allow him to crash his lips onto yours, your body molding into him once again. It's then that you feel the hardness of him against you.

The feeling of his arousal sends a shock wave into your body making you come back to reality completely. You break the kiss, maneuvering your body so that you're facing Hannibal. You lift your body placing your thighs against his, forcing him to close his legs. You gaze down at him as you move to straddle him, your hand moving to his zipper. Hannibal continues to look up at you as you relive his dick of its confines. A pleased sound makes its way out of your throat at the sight of him. Your free hand moves to your pussy, tugging your soaked underwear to the side. You inch yourself down onto Hannibal's dick, watching his face scrunch up at the feeling of you.  His hands find your hips, his impatience causing him to tug you down onto his dick in one go. You gasp at the stretch hands moving to grasp onto his shoulders. 

“Fuck hannibal.”

“Feel so good dear. So perfect around me.”

You lift your hips slowly before bringing them back down. You try to start off slow but pretty soon your desperation gets a hold of you. Your hands move to Hannibal's neck, arms wrapping around him. Hannibal presses his face against your chest, his own arms moving to wrap around you. His hips move up, fucking into you. You try to help him as best you can but your thighs are already starting to hurt from being in this position too long. It doesn't seem like Hannibal minds though. In fact once he notices you’re giving your body up to him he seems to find some super strength because before you know it he’s ramming into you.

Your body bounces against his as he guides you up and down on his dick. You release his neck moving your hands to rest on his thighs. The new angle allows him to move against you with more ease causing him to speed up. Before you can even tell him you’re close you’re already gushing around him. Hannibal grunts as his cum paints your walls, his hand moving to rest against your chest. Your fingers move over his hair as he regains his breath, face still pressed against you. 

Hannibal lifts his head allowing him to look at you. You have lipstick smeared all over your face and your hair is all tangled but your face holds a look of pure unfiltered joy. Hannibal grins up at you, his hands moving to cup your cheek before pulling you into a tender kiss. You let out a satisfied hum against his lips. He breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours.

“Sleep here tonight.”

“Okay.”

You wake the next morning to the sound of the door bell. You groan, lifting your head from Hannibal's neck to look at the time.

“Who the hell is at your house this early on a sunday?”

“Shh go back to bed. They’ll leave soon.”

You snuggle back into Hannibal  allowing him to tug you closer. Sleep starts to take over your mind just as the doorbell rings again causing you to let out another groan. 

“I should see who it is.”

“Yeah and tell them to fuck of while you’re at it.”

Hannibal chuckles at your words, kissing your cheek before moving to get out of bed. You lift yourself up wrapping the sheets around your bare body as you watch Hannibal tug a sweater over his head. 

“Stay there dear. I’ll be right back.”

You nod at him watching him leave the room. He left the bedroom door open allowing you to hear him open the door.

“Jack, what are you doing here?”

Oh shit. 

You scramble out of bed tugging on one of Hannibal's sweaters before searching the ground for your underwear. You almost fall over as you try to put it on but you manage to do so without causing an accident. You pad through the house barefoot making your way to the front door. 

“Good morning. Sorry to wake you up so early but we have a case that we need help with. Will said you-”

Jack's eyes caught sight of you standing in the corner. Hannibal seemed to notice the shift in Jack's attention causing him to look in the direction he was staring at. Hannibal's eyes fell on your frame observing the way his sweater looked on you. You looked at him, your hands fiddling with each other. 

“Is everything okay?”

Hannibal stuck his hand out to you inviting you to come over. You made your way to them allowing Hannibal to pull to him. He placed a kiss on your temple.

“Hi Jack.”

“Hello rookie. I didn’t know you knew Hannibal.”

“Will introduced us.”

“He knows you’re here?”

“No. Why?”

“He called me yesterday. Said you weren’t home. And that you didn’t pick up your phone.”

“Is that why you came?”

“Oh no. We have a murder we need Hannibal to help with.”

“Okay. I’ll come too.”

Jack gave you a look of surprise. 

“You aren’t ready for the field, rookie.”

“And Will is?”

Jack opened his mouth to counter you but he knew better. He knew you were close with Will so he knew that Will had told him of all the shit he'd been through because of the FBI. Plus he knew you were famous for your stubbornness and he really didn’t feel like dealing with it right now.

“Fine. Go get ready. Both of you.”

With that Jack exited the house moving to grab his phone out of his pocket. He dialed Will's number. The phone rang twice before he picked up.

“I got Hannibal. We are going to the crime scene now.”

“Okay i’ll be there in a few.”

“Oh and I found your friend. You’ll never guess where.”

Will didn’t even need Jack to finish his phrase to know where you were. Anger bubbled into his body again. He’d have to have a talk with Hannibal about professional boundaries.

[bisexualfemalemess]

BRIDGERTON SEASON 3 PART TWO SPOILERS

Episode 7: I’m only 20 seconds in and i already can not handle the drama 😭😭😭 He followed her because he was worried because the last time she left she was having a panic attack and fainted and now he finds out she’s his worst enemy :(( somebody take that pen away from shonda, there is no need for this much angst :(((

I’m actually gonna scream like i fully can’t handle this, it’s the equivalent to hearing your parents fighting when you’re little and covering your ears :(

As angsty as this scene is i have to commend Luke Netwon’s acting because that tear rolling down his face, colin’s just a sensitive baby boy and it shows. Also kudos to Nicola coughlan’s acting because i can just feel how distraught penelope is over the whole situation.

Not baby boy saying he will never forgive her and then just sulking in bed :( I‘m not sure i‘ll survive this episode.

The fake whistledown is so ooc i‘m glad Penelope shut that shit down fast.

PENELOISE!!!!! It is so important to me that Eloise said she feels stuck between the two of them because that still shows she still genuinely loved penelope and doesn’t just hold some lingering affection from how close they used to be. We’re so back.

THE REASSURANCE AND HEART TO HEART, PENELOPE HOLDING HER HAND. GUYS WE SURVIVED THE GREAT WAR IMMA JUMP OUT A WINDOW, POLIN NEXT!

Damn colin! What happened to hello? How are you? He’s just over her demanding answers from eloise, lmaoooo. Eloise, babe, i love you but were you not the one suggesting that pen just keeps her husband in the dark and drops the lw persona? Don’t back track now. Not them having a bitch-off about who was hurt the most by penelope like guys maybe you should focus your energy on trying to understand her instead of going at each other’s throats. But also Eloise defending pen to colin, they’re truly so back. SHE SAID SHE WANTS TO FORGIVE HER SHE LOVES HER SO BAD MY BESTIES ARE ACTUALLY COMING BACK 😭😭😭😭😭 i actually feel so bad for el, colin and penelope. Like they’re all valid with their feelings and i need them to officially make-up so bad.

That entrapment comment? Like i get that he’s lashing out because he’s upset after finding out that his best friend and love of his life is also his worst enemy but let’s not forget that he was the one chasing the carriage, begging on his knees for a chance, finger-banged her into near-orgasm, and made the first move in the mirror scene because the poor girl was a virgin who didn’t know shit about sex. ARGUMENT NULL AND VOID BABY BOY.

Poor pen :(((((( She loves him y’all. WHAT DO YOU MEAN “let us get through this wedding then we will decide what this marriage will be.”??? Like i hope he comes to terms with whistledown because it’s such an essential part of penelope, they can’t just sweep it under the rug. I love how the mom’s are so concerned about them but they don’t stop to think about maybe, i don’t know, asking them what’s going on? Like they won’t get an answer but at least they would’ve tried. Right now they’re either too wrapped up in the planning or lady danbury’s brother to even try and figure out what’s going on, like, of course you’re not gonna know the reason then. Colin stress-drinking being canon is like the worst thing that could ever happen to me. It’s literally the night before their wedding and shit’s not resolved yet, i’m gonna scream into a pillow.

Aww i hate that penelope’s so understanding about colin’s anger but like i also love that about her because she will admit her mistakes and admit that she’s wrong and that’s so hard to find in a character sometimes. I also love her friendship with Genevieve like she’s the only one that truly understands her.

Lmaoo not penelope stepping onto that platform thingy or step or whatever it was to be taller like baby you’re still just three apples tall. DAMN, Penelope really said, “i am not standing for this slander anymore” and threw his words back at him. Does this fight count as talking things out? Personally i would say yes but 🤷‍♀️

“you should’ve told me to my face.” Like??? Did she not…try? Did she not utter the words marina’s in love with another and you just brushed her off??? Like sir don’t throw that at her when you damn well know she tried to do everything she could’ve before resorting to her gossip column.

The acting is so insanely good oh my god like i get both of them here but i’m a little bit biased and slightly more on pen’s side, whistledown is a good thing, it protects the bridgertons and helps them.(sometimes without them even realizing it.)

I love how penelope just has to drop the l-word and colin pushes her up against a wall, making out with her in the middle of a street. Like are We sure LW is gonna be a problem, colin? At least he made sure she got into the carriage this time.

Not Violet calling in the big guns with Kanthony like they’re so sickeningly in love with each other what marital advice can they give colin??? Kate’s so pretty and her bump is so cute. “You think our marriage is perfect?” “Is it not?” Anthony’s not helping at all lmaooo. Poor woman is truly working overtime trying to get everyone out of their slump while pregnant first el, then gregory, now colin. Just let her rest??? And anthony’s little comments lmaoo he was not having any of it.

Kanthony reminiscing about their wedding??? And you expect me to say they’re not sickening??? SHUT UP NOT YELLOW BEING PLAYED FOR POLINS WEDDING IM ACTUALLY GONNA JUMP OF A BRIDGE THIS IS SO PERFECT. Can we take a moment to appreciate penelope’s wedding gown??? She looks so fucking ethereal oh my god. Like one thing about bridgerton, the women always look ethereal.

I know we haven’t resolved the LW issue yet but colin looks so genuinely in love and happy during the wedding scene. It’s sad to know that will probably not last :( Eloise And prudence both crying of happiness, so true. Aww penelope’s sister being nice to her, she’s so not used to it.

PEN AND ELOISE EYE CONTACT EYE CONTACT EYE CONTACT LIKE YOU GIRLS ARE ALREADY SO BACK.

Not Benedict fucking off from his own brother’s wedding for what??? The threesome or what??

Awww Anthony wants a birth in india 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 he’s such a looser for her. I love kanthony so much 🥺🥺🥺

Portia is actually so??? i don’t know, nurturing??? Like she truly shows she cares for pen.

Also POLIN DANCING TO YOU BELONG WITH ME I REPEAT POLIN DANCING TO YOU BELONG WITH ME. They’re the cutest oh my god. The way the entire room just disappeared and colin was this 🤏 close to throwing all sense out the window and folding, like he would’ve full on made out with her if the queen hadn’t entered. LMAOO NOT PENELOPE LEAVING WHEN THE QUEEN SAID BRIDGERTONS ONLY AND COLIN LITERALLY HAD TO PULL HER BACK???

I’m 100% certain penelope would’ve full on confessed she was whistledown if Francesca hadn’t stepped up with her kilmartin thing. She’s so cute. The queen clocked their tea and anthony seriously was like no you’re wrong.

THAT FUCK ASS WIG I HATE THAT FUCK ASS WIG FOR THE RESHOOTS, I THOUGHT I’D NEVER HAVE TO SEE IT AGAIN 🙄🙄🙄 On another note i love that pen is delivering with her speech here, like yes queen pop off my little feminist. The queen just had to ruin the wedding, did she?

AWW WAR IS SO TRULY OVER WE GOT A SCENE OF ELOISE COMFORTING AND HUGGING PENELOPE AS SHES CRYING INTO HER SHOULDER! PENELOISE BACK SO TRUE SO REAL

WOAH HAPPY PRIDE MONTH TO BENEDICT BRIDGERTON I GUESS. A WIN FOR THE GAYS, BI’S, WHATEVER YOU IDENTIFY AS. ELOISE NEXT!