#Too exhausted from dealing with this shit show of a year | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nakahras · 2 months

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᯽ mr. loverman • chuuya nakahara

synopsis • you have a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day and to top it off you can’t even go to the one person you’d want to since he’s out of town. or, at least, you thought so.

warnings • intentional lower case, reader has a nightmare of a roommate, cursing, the use of the pet names doll/baby, chuuya being the gossip he is, fem!reader, nsfw, oral (m -> f), nipple/breast play, some nasty shit is said, masturbation (m), fingering, teasing, slight overstim, idk this is some depraved shit honestly

wc • 4k

a/n • i started this when i was having the worst day ever and just wanted boyfriend chuuya :( i cannot be blamed for the smut idk who wrote that but it wasn’t me

you want to scream — to be more accurate you want to off someone, yourself or someone else, either would suffice. unfortunately you stick to screaming, it would cause you less issues. you lift one of the many pillows on your bed and promptly screech your throat raw into the expensive pillow. your head feels as though it’s going to explode just thinking about how your day has gone.

you thought february 29th was supposed to be a lucky day? an extra day in a leap year meant luck, didn’t it? well in your case it didn’t feel very lucky. not at all, actually. in fact you were sure today was a curse. you woke up late, so, your day was off to a bad start from the beginning. your roommate forgot to pay the electricity bill, again, so you had to take a cold shower and couldn’t even make coffee. you stopped at your favorite coffee shop and not only did they get your order wrong but someone bumped into you on your rush to the train station. there was coffee everywhere. every. where.

thanks to the coffee spill you missed your morning train. which normally wouldn’t be a huge deal, except for the fact that you had an early staff meeting. you try to text your coworker that you were running behind but because your roommate forgot to put the payment in for electricity, your phone didn’t charge and died. you don’t even get your message out. you wanted to cry. luckily the train was early and you made it to work just in time.

you thought maybe you had seen the worst of it. your karma surely couldn’t be that bad, right?

wrong.

you work as a nurse in cardiology. you had not one, not two, but three people code on you. it always came in threes. three emergency services calls. three rounds of performing cpr. three separate incident reports to type out. you were exhausted by the end of the day.

you almost cried again when your favorite coworker offers you a ride home. he was a saint in disguise and you told him so. a literal gift from heaven. you promise him a homemade lunch in return and he waves you off as you climb out of the car. when you get to your apartment you’re pleasantly surprised to see your roommate cleaning. a rare occasion.

the electricity is back on too so you take the opportunity to enjoy a relaxing bath and some wine. you thought, once again, maybe the worst was over.

wrong. again.

when you got out of the bathroom you thought you vaguely heard chatter but chalked it up to a show your roommate was probably watching. you change into a t-shirt, skipping a bra because it’s just you and your roommate at home, and a pair of sleeping shorts that barely cover anything. when you walk out with your headphones on you’re stunned to see 3 strangers in your home.

your roommate looks at you like you’re the crazy one. like she isn’t the one that didn’t warn you about the company. you double check then triple check your phone. nope, not a single text for warning. you awkwardly wave and consider digging a hole and living in it when she introduces one of the strangers as her new boyfriend. in that moment you want to perish, cease from existing altogether.

you don’t even get a chance to grab your food before you’re making a half assed excuse to step away and run back to your room.

you’re now laying on your bed, letting tears of frustration stream down your face. you can’t even call the one person who would make it all better. your boyfriend was away for a business trip. you didn’t want to accidentally interrupt something important. you knew he would drop everything

your boyfriend also has this freaky 6th sense, like he can always tell when you’re thinking of him. so, you’re not surprised when your phone begins to ring and you’re met with his contact photo. you let out a sigh and pick up.

“chuuya…” you breathe out. you sound terrible, you know you do, but you can’t bring yourself to even care to mask it.

you can hear vague rustling in the background before chuuya is speaking. “you don’t sound okay. what’s wrong?”

you start crying again. how does he do that? he always seems to know when you need him most. right now was definitely one of those times. you wish he could actually be there. you missed his warm and safe embrace.

“i’m not. i had a really shitty day and i feel so ridiculous about how much it’s getting to me…” you let out a humorless laugh at how pathetic you feel saying that out loud. you’re throwing a fit over a bad day. who does that?

and all you wanted was for chuuya to be here. but you couldn’t tell him that, if you did he would dismiss everything and come running. then you would feel bad about coming between him and his work. you let out a frustrated sigh.

you can practically hear the frown on chuuya’s face when he speaks. “you wanna tell me ‘bout it? i’ll listen. or is there something else i can do to make you feel better?”

you don’t deserve him. you think to yourself.

moments like this make you really think about how chuuya deserves way more than what you can give him. you go days at a time without talking to him because of school and work. you lock yourself in your room and ignore the world outside just to keep up with your school work. you know it’s unfair to chuuya even if you always do give him a warning. he is always incredibly understanding over it that you almost cry out of guilt. he even brings you meals and hydration packs to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.

things like this remind you just how selfish you can be when it comes to him. all you want is him. but are you allowed to even feel like that when he’s away for work — a good reason by the way, much better than your own. he never complains when you need space so why would you? to you the answer is simple, you won’t complain.

of course, chuuya sees it differently. he knows that if you didn’t have to cut everyone off to focus on your work you wouldn’t. but your mind doesn’t work like that and he gets it. does he miss you when you have to take a break from reality? absolutely, but he doesn’t complain because he already knows how bad you feel about it.

so instead of saying ‘yes, i need you’ like you want to you let out another sigh. “how much work do you have left today?”

”funny you ask me that, doll. i finished everything early today.” chuuya chuckles when he can practically see the way you perk up.

you still hesitate when you ask, “does that mean you're coming back to yokohama early?”

the port mafia executive smiles widely at just how adorable he finds you. the way you still get so shy to ask him things that should be a given. chuuya adores you and couldn’t imagine spending his now free time with anyone other than you. so, of course he took the opportunity to get back as soon as possible. apparently his timing was impeccable because from the sound of it, you could use a break.

chuuya was already on his way to your apartment. it was supposed to be a surprise, but he figures since he’s already almost there…

“why don’t you pack a bag and come down to find out for yourself, hm?” he lets out another chuckle when your excited squeal finds it’s way onto his side of the phone.

you quickly grab your small duffle and stuff some essentials into it. you have a drawer at chuuyas jam packed with clothing already and a whole second set of your favorite hygiene products so you only need to grab a few things. you pack your laptop and a couple articles of your comfier clothing. you change quickly, stuffing your legs into some jeans and actually putting on a bra underneath your t-shirt.

you grab your phone where chuuya is still on the line. “okay, all packed. should i come down now?”

“yeah, your surprise should be there any minute.” chuuya pulls up to the front of your building as he says those words and can’t help the pleased smile on his face.

you chuckle and shake your head. “my surprise, huh wonder what it could-“ you’re cut off when your roommate calls out your name questioningly in your rush to get out of the door. your eye twitches when you’re reminded of the randoms in your apartment but put on a smile anyways. “it was so nice meeting you guys, sorry i can’t stay but my boyfriend came back into town early so i’m gonna go see him. bye.”

you don’t miss the way your roommate perks up at the mention of chuuya. “oh? chuuya is here? you should invite him up. i would love to see him.

“i’m sure you would. he’s tired though. maybe some other time.” you grit your teeth and smile sweetly. you don’t wait for a response as you practically run out the door and lock it behind you.

you huff and then remember chuuya is on the other side of the phone still, you grimace realizing he heard the whole thing. “sorry…”

“didn’t know i was so tired.” chuuya laughs as you let out a groan.

you catch the elevator before the doors close from someone just getting out and stab at the button to the ground floor. “i’m tired of their shit, therefore, you’re tired too. plus did you really wanna sit through another awkward meal where my roommate dotes on you. god and her new boyfriend was there. can you imagine how uncomfortable that would be? gross. i don’t wanna think about it anymore.”

“someone’s actually insane enough to agree to date her? condolences to whoever that guy is.” chuuya’s voice drips with genuine surprise.

you let out a giggle at how scandalized your boyfriend sounds. “you’re telling me she doesn’t pique your interest, sunshine?”

he chuckles and you can practically hear the eye roll from his end of the line. “nah, my girl is the only one for me.”

you’re walking out of the elevator when you stop in your tracks for a moment. it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been with him, when chuuya calls you his girl it makes you melt. your brain malfunctions a little and it makes you really think about how you truly are all his.

without hesitation you breathe out an “i love you.” before moving forward to the entrance of your building.

“i love you.” it’s instantaneous, his answer.

chuuya never has to think twice about telling you how much he adores you. he is immutably in love with you. there was no doubt in his mind and, even though it took some time for you to believe so, there was no longer a single doubt in your mind either. chuuya had made certain that you would never question it.

you make it to the entrance. the moment you open the door you’re welcomed with the sight of chuuya leaning against his car. his phone is still up to his ear as his grin widens upon seeing you.

you drop your hand and phone from your ear and hang up before rushing over to the ginger. you drop your duffle bag near the car before jumping into the executive's arms. he was anticipating the impact and caught you with ease.

the bicolor eyed man holds you tightly and you bury your face in his neck. his soft hair tickles your face but you couldn’t care less. you take in a deep breath and his scent envelopes you and all the tension your body had been previously holding completely dissipates.

your voice is muffled when you say, “i missed you, so much.”

“i missed you too.”

you both stand there in each other’s arms for a few more seconds before chuuya sets you down. he grabs your bag from the ground and opens the passenger door for you. you thank him and climb in. your boyfriend wastes no time placing your bag on the backseat and slipping into the drivers side.

the ginger takes you to your favorite take out restaurant and you order all of your favorites. when you get back to his penthouse you set up his couch into a lounge bed and get ready to watch one of your favorite movies. while you’re doing that, chuuya is pouring you both a glass of wine.

you’re happily munching on your food and sipping on your wine when chuuya hits you with. “you should move in.”

your head snaps back to look up at him, your brow is furrowed and you give him a confused look. “we haven’t talked about it before. are you being serious right now?”

“completely.” he doesn’t even look at you, his tone so nonchalant and you’re just gaping at him.

you set your drink and food aside and shift off of chuuya. he’s about to complain until you sit yourself on his lap straddling his waist and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. you pluck the remote from his hand and turn over your shoulder to pause the movie. you wanted to make sure you had his undivided attention (you always did).

you study him for a moment before responding. “are you sure?”

“yes. i have 2 extra rooms that aren’t being used. we don’t have to share a bedroom yet and you would still have a separate office space. c’mon, doll, let me get you out of that nightmare of an apartment.” chuuya reaches up and tucks a stray hair behind your ear.

he did that on purpose. you know he did. the way he caresses your face with his always surprisingly soft fingers is unfair. he knows how distracting it is to you.

you try to process what he says but it takes you quite a bit longer than it should have but it doesn’t take you long to make your decision. “…okay.” it comes out whispered.

“okay?” chuuya asks you incredulously like he was actually expecting you to reject his offer.

you nod your head with a blush creeping up your face. “yes, okay. i’ll move in with you.

chuuya can’t help himself and presses his hands across your back to bring you into him. his lips crash into yours and you share a moment of pure bliss. his lips meld perfectly with yours. he tastes of peppermint and grapes. the taste increases as his tongue slips past your lips and tangles with your own. you let out a short gasp at the sudden intrusion but melt into him anyways.

you both stay like that for a few minutes. your hips begin to stutter on their own. your breaths and gasps and quiet moans fill the atmosphere. chuuya’s hands have found their way under your shirt and he’s already playing with the band of your bra. his fingers expertly undo the clasps and hands glide across your now naked back.

your lungs scream at you. you want more of him but you have to oblige your body’s need for air. you part from his lips and rest your forehead on his own, breath mixing together as you both pant for air.

chuuya only gives you a moment, hips still moving into his when he grabs at your hair and gently pulls your head back so he can trail kisses down your neck. it takes all of his self control to not bite your soft skin. per your request, he’s always careful not to leave marks on areas that would be visible in your scrubs. this is the one instance where his need to please you outweighs his need to be possessive.

if chuuya had it his way, he would make everyone aware of just how much you are his. for your sake, though, he reigns in that side of himself. he supposes he’ll just have to show the world you’re his in different ways. like in the form of a key, and in the form of a ring he has stashed away in the far corners of his closet, and maybe even some day in the form of his child.

chuuya’s brought back to reality by the sound of your voice. he hadn’t even realized that your positions had switched. you were panting underneath him, face flushed, and — fuck — you look so gorgeous like this. you were always beautiful. but having you like this, something only he got to see always made something primal in him stir.

you huff and grab ahold of the ginger’s face. his mind was obviously elsewhere. “chuuya. listen to me. what are you doing?”

chuuya’s eyes, which had glazed over, somewhat clear from the fog. he smiles at you as he lowers himself further down your body and lifts your shirt to press kisses to your stomach. you let out a whine, ready to complain about him still not listening.

“relax, baby, i’m helping you relieve some stress.” chuuya draws soothing circles into your skin then, without waiting for your response his hands travel to your pajama pants to untie them.

your hand shoots out to stop him, still panting and slightly dazed. “what about you?”

“don’t worry about me. i can take care of myself while i take care of you.” he says it so unabashedly you can’t bring yourself to question him.

then your head starts spinning. the thought of him touching himself while taking care of you is so incredibly hot it ignites your entire body on fire. there’s no longer a single thought in your head that doesn’t involve chuuya’s mouth, his lips, his tongue, his hands, his fingers. you need it all.

you reach out and card your fingers through the gravity manipulator’s silky hair. he hums at the action and takes it as his sign to continue. his fingers work quickly, undoing the ribbon and hooking around both the elastic of the pants and your panties. his movements are so fluid and fast you can hardly keep up. your bottom half is completely bare but he’s not satisfied there.

his hand slides up underneath your shirt and through the valley of your breasts. he watches intently as your shirt slowly rides up to expose your breasts. his fingers ghost over each mound briefly before they’re sliding down your body again and gripping at your thighs, holding them open.

“so damn pretty.” chuuya hums and his eyes flit up to gaze up at your flushed face. “do me a favor, baby? play with those perfect tits of yours for me, won’t you?”

his voice is sickly sweet and smooth like honey. you’re so enamored by the sound that you almost don’t hear him. his expectant look is what starts up the wheels in your head to turn. his words process and your hands move on their own accord. you start kneading at your chest while maintaining eye contact with his bicolored eyes.

chuuya groans. “god, doll. look at you. playin’ with yourself like that. ‘s sexy as hell- you’re sexy as hell.”

“chuuya…” you let out a whine. your patience thinning by the second as you wiggle your ass for any chance at friction.

your boyfriend lets out a chuckle. “okay, okay. think i’ve made you wait long enough, hm? deserve a reward for all the hell you were put through today.”

chuuya, once again, doesn’t give you a chance to answer before he’s dipping his head down to get face to face with your already slick cunt. his tongue is quick as he runs it up and down your folds. you feel him sigh in relief against you, like this is the first meal he’s had in days. it might as well be with how much he craved you when he was away.

although, he was focused on you — focused on making this all about you — chuuya knows if he doesn’t make good on his word of relieving himself you’ll never let him hear the end of it. who is he to deny himself the added pleasure when you’re demanding it of him. so, chuuya lets go of one of your thighs to fumble with his belt and free his strained cock from its confines.

you vaguely watch his arm move. your attention wavering as his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks. your back arches and hands squeeze at your breasts in surprise as you moan out his name.

chuuya smirks, absolutely pleased by the reactions he elicits from you. his hand that freed his cock moves to collect some of the wetness that’s steadily dripping out of you. once he’s satisfied with the amount he lowers his hand and uses your slick as lube to touch himself.

you try to comment on it but your mouth isn’t working right. the only thing that comes out is, “chuuya~ so good. ‘s so- fuck- so good…”

chuuya groans, clearly enjoying this as much as you are. his hips start to stutter as he lets go of your other thigh to gather more of your juices in that hand. his mouth it still making expert work of your clit while his fingers are closing in on your entrance. he teases you a little, circling the hole a few times before slowly pushing in two of his lithe fingers.

your head is thrown back as a slew of cursed moans falls from your lips. this time chuuya lets out a moan of his own when he feels your walls fluttering around his fingers already. his hand being used on himself starts pumping faster, his cheeks hollowing more frequently and fingers start sliding in and out of you at an alarming rate.

he’s close, you realize. he’s close and wants you to cum before him. you aid him in his endeavor by rolling your nipples between your fingers then squeezing slightly to pinch them. the added sensation makes your whole body twitch.

“f-fuck, fuck, fuck. chuuya, gonna cum~ ‘s too much. gonna-“ a euphoric wave crashes over you and you let out an embarrassing squeal like moan as your vision spots and ears rings.

chuuya’s slurps while lapping up at your orgasm are insanely lewd and the noise alone is enough to send him crashing as well. what really does him in is the sight before him. your eyes rolling back into your head and mouth hanging open. he moans deeply, from his chest, and spills into his hand. he pumps himself a few more times until he’s twitching from the overstimulation.

chuuya laps up every last drop your cunt has to offer while you come down from that amazing high and catch your breath. when he’s happy with his clean up he rests his cheek on your thigh. you prop yourself up to look at him. he looks so angelic, hair slightly tousled from your fingers running through it earlier, face glistening from your juices and face flushed. chuuya smiles at you then turns his head to leave sweet kisses on your inner thigh.

you let your head hang back before groaning. he was going to be the death of you. you knew he wasn’t finished with you by a long shot.

“we have plenty of time to do this when i move in.” you whine.

chuuya lets out an elated laugh. “so, when are we moving you in? tomorrow?”

you let out a genuinely amused laugh, shaking your head at his eagerness.

#chuuya x reader #chuuya smut #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya x you #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x you #chuuya x fem!reader #bsd x fem!reader #bungo stray dogs x fem!reader #bsd chuuya #᯽. banners/dividers made by @/cafekitsune #᯽. éli originals

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itsss4t4n · 2 months

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Safe with You - Regulus Black x potter! reader

a/n: THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT I ABSOLUTELY ADORE IT. (6558 words)

warnings: mention of abuse, smoking, hurt/comfort, kissing, background wolfstar and (barely mentioned) rosekiller

You didnt remember a time where Regulus Black didnt hate you.

Being James Potters younger sibling, most of his friends were also yours, so when sirius started talking about how much he hates his family , including Regulus you didnt question it much, but you never really had anything against him personally.

But it didnt help that, from the beginning of yours and Regulus first year he was pretty much a dickhead. He made it a point to be better than everyone and to tell them so.

That started a rivalry between the both of you. Battleing for top of the class.

All of this only got worse when, in the middle of the winter holidays in your 5th year, Sirius appeared at your doorstep, bleeding and asking for help.

After that point Regulus made sure to show you how much he hated you even more.

You just assumed that he hated you because of your family. Blood-traitors.

In the beginning of your 6th year you had started to sneak away onto the astronomy tower a lot of nights.

It was nice up here. Quiet. You found solitude from the stressful schoolday and your Brother and his friends. You loved them, of course. But it was a lot of pressure. Most people just saw you as James sibling. And they expected you to be like him. It was honestly really exhausting.

Your parents didnt help a lot either. As much as they said they loved you equally, you always felt like James and now Sirius were more important to them. You were just the perfect little sibling. You were quiet and you had good grades so they didnt need to worry much about you. You felt neglected. But you also understood them. James didnt try as much in school, concentraiting more on pranks than homework and Sirius obviously had a lot to deal with because of his past.

So you snuck away when everyone was sleeping. In your pyjamas and a jacket you quiely left the common room and went to he astronomy tower.

When you arrived you didnt pay much attention to your surroundings and so you didnt notice the other person that was sitting against the outside wall of the tower. You had already pulled out the pack of cigarettes that you had nicked from Sirius a week prior and were beginning to light it when you stepped against the railing.

Taking a drag and pulling the cigarette away from your mouth you finally heard shuffling behind you. You quickly turn your head, scared that you're gonna find a prefect, or worse, Filch behind you. But instead you see a boy sitting a few meters away from you, his back to the wall of the tower, his dark hair covering his face.

"Sorry i didnt realize someone was here."

He finally looks up at you and you finally see his face.

"Black? The fuck are you doing here?" Your voice is a mix of confusion and annoyance at he fact that your solitide was disturbed by him of all people.

"I could ask you he same thing Potter." His voice was quiet and annoyed. Like he didnt want to deal with this right now. He sounded exhausted.

And at a second glance he looked it too. He had dark bags under his eyes and if you looked closely you could see a bruise at the side of his face. You didnt remember seeing it earlier during potions class but maybe he had covered it with magic.

You had the urge to comment on it but remembered all the things thatt sirius would tell you about his parents and you had a feeling it had something to do with that. And that was a topic that you were sure wouldnt end well.

So you settled on "You look like shit."

He didnt answer and only looked at you even more annoyed.

Shrugging, you simply looked away from him and lifted your cigarette back to your lips.

Regulus didnt move from his spot, so you assumed that he didnt care much that you were there.

You didnt feel like standing any longer, so you sat against the same wall regulus was sat against, now only a meter between the two of you. afer a few seconds you held out the pack of cigarettes to him .

"want one?"

He took one without a word and you handed him your lighter when he put it beween his lips.

After that the two of you sat in silence looking at the nightsky. After almost 30 minutes of sitting in silence, you slowly moved to stand up.

"Well... I better go to bed. goodnight Black."

You had only taken a step or two when Regulus spoke up for the first time since you got there.

"If you tell anyone i was here, you're dead potter."

You turn to him with a small smile.

"I wont. If i did i would have to tell them that i was here."

With that you left, leaving regulus confused on why you wouldnt want anyone knowing you were there. He left shortly after you did.

That night started a routine of you going up to the tower to find regulus either already there or arriving a few minutes later. You would sit in silence together, smoking a cigarette or two, before leaving again. Neither of you ever talked much.

During the day both of you acted like you always did. Like you werent sitting next to each other in almost friendly silence a few hours prior.

You never told your brother or any of your friends about it.

At some point you had started to talk to him instead of just sitting in silence. Not much. And certainly not anything of sustance. Mostly just complaining about professors and homework. But he never complained about it. He never said anything to be honest. He just sat and listened in silence. This continued almost every night unil the winter holidays.

You were standing on platform 9 3/4 with your family and Sirius, saying goodbye to your parents when you noticed Sirius glaring at something past your head. Turning around you see Regulus and his parents. Regulus looked even more exhausted than usual and even from the distance you could see him tensing up as his father put his hand on Regulus shoulder.

Something had happened over the holydays, you could tell.

James voice ripped you out of your thoughts. "Hey what are you two staring at?"

"Nothing."

You answer immediately, turning back around and hugging your parents one last time.

"Come on or we'll miss the train."

That night during dinner you kept catching yourself looking at Regulus. Each time you seemed to notice a new reason to worry.

First how tense he seemed, then his eyebags, worse than you've ever seen them, how he fully ignored all his friends, how he made sure that his hair was alwas covering his left cheekbone and temple, how he seemed to constantly have a hand holding his ribs.

At one point you cought his eyes, giving him the slightest smile, hoping no one else caught it.

You mouthed 'astronomy tower' hoping that he saw it, before turning back to your friends to answer the question that Marlene had just asked.

That night when you arrived at the tower Regulus was already there, sitting with his back against the wall and his head down, just like he first time you met him there.

But this time when you sat next to him and he looked up at you, you could see the tears in his eyes threatening to fall. Without a word you pulled him into a hug, his head laying against your shoulder, and just held him as his tears finally spilled.

He didnt make a sound, he just silently let his tears fall. And you held him through it.

It took him about 20 minutes before he pulled away from you. He didn dare look into your face, just sitting right next to you staring at the stars.

After a minute or so of you observing his face you finally asked softly.

"What happened?"

He didnt say anything for a few seconds. He didnt react at all. You thought maybe he didnt hear you but right as you opened you mouth to ask again, he finally answered.

"How much has Sirius told you about our family?" His voice was quiet and broken.

"A lot. He's told us pretty much anything they would do to him."

He took a deep breath before he talked again, still refusing to look at you.

"When he was still there, they never really did anything to me. But when he left..." He swallowed "they needed someone else to blame all their problems on. They started to find faults in me. I pretty much became Sirius replacement. When they were angry they let it out on me. The night he left was the worst. I had begged him too stay. But he didnt. He just left me there. And they let all their anger about the situation out on me."

His voice was shaky and quiet. He sounded unsure if he should be telling you this.

You honestly were surprised that he told you this. Even if you had been "hanging out" for almost half a year now. You didnt think he trusted you like this. And he proboaly didnt.

"Regulus.." His name left your mouth in a whisper. You had never called him by his first name before.

Hearing his name out of your mouth finally made him look at you.

You slowly grabbed his hand, squeezing it. "I'm so sorry.."

His gaze drifted from you face to your now joined hands. You expected him to pull his hand away but he just looked away at the stars again.

Neither of you said anything else.

That night was a turning point for both of you.

You stopped being hateful to each other in public. You werent friendly either. It was a silent truce. Your rivalry for top of the class was still there but it was less hateful.

Your nightly meetings slowly turned into talking about feelings. He told you about his friends, the few that were actually decent. Evan Rosier, Barty Crouch jr and Pandora Lestrange. Those were the three that actually semed pretty nice. According to Regulus they didnt really care that much about blood status, Regulus didnt either. He had learned a lot from Sirius perspective, he was just way more scared of their parents, so he hid his opinions.

You told him about your family problems, even though they were miniscule in comparison. About how you always felt like you stood in james shadow.

Over time you and Regulus had come to a point were you honestly considered each other friends.

You still didnt tell any of your friends or you brother about it. You knew they wouldnt take it well.

But all of them noticed a change in you. How you seemed happier.

"Are you dating someone?"

You nearly choked on your food, when Marlene asked that all of the sudden during dinner.

"What?!" All conversation between your friends had halted as they all looked at you expectantly. "No! Why would you think that?"

James looked stupidly relieved at that. He never liked the thought of you dating someone.

It was Sirius that answered your question.

"Oh, c'mon. Even a blind person can see that you act different." You just looked at him confused. so he clarified. "You are so much happier, you constantly smile at nothing, you zone out. You're either dating someone or you have a big fat crush on someone. So go on. Spill."

Your eyes widen in shock. Had you really been that obvious? Yes ,during the past few months you may have developed a little cush on the younger Black. But c'mon that obvious?

But obviously you couldnt tell your friends that. Especially not Sirius and James. They would die of a heart attack on the spot.

"Do you really think if i had a crush on someone i wouldnt tell any of you? Not even Marlene or Lilly?" That was a good safe. Because yes, you usually told the girl pretty much every detail of your life. Even when you had a crush on Remus back in 4th year before you knew that he was gay. And very much in love with Sirius.

Sirius deflated on that. "Yea.. i guess that is true."

They finally picked up their previous conversations and you stole a quick glance at the slytherin table. But instead of Regulus eyes you met those of Evan Rosier.

He had his eyes already on you and winked at you with a sly grin when our eyes met. Next to him Regulus had noticed that exchange and hit Evan in the side with his elbow. You looked at them confused as Regulus angrily whispered something to Evan who just laughed in reply.

Had Regulus told them? You made a mental note to ask him that night.

When your eyes finally went back to your friends you met Remus eyes who just lifted one eyebrow and smiled knowingly at you.

You ignored him and went back to eating.

Later that evening you were sat in the common room doing potions homework when Remus excused himself from the boys to walk over to you. You looked up at him for a second as he sat down next to you before going back to writing.

"You know, at some point they're gonna find out."

"I have no idea what you're talking about Rem." He couldnt know. Right?

"Yea you do. You know, you're lucky that i'm the one that keeps the map most nights."

At that you froze. Your quill a few centimeters over your parchment.

The map.

Shit.

How did you forget about that.

Remus noticed your stressed facial expression.

"They dont know. I havent told them dont worry. " You relaxed a little at that. "But you know its only a matter of time before one of them finds out."

You let out a breath that you didnt realize you were holding before putting down your quill, frowning at the spot of ink on you parchment, that had dripped from the quil.

"How long have you known?"

"Right before The holidays."

"Rem that is so long! Why didnt you tell me that you know?!" You whisper yelled to make sure none of the other boys heard you.

"I wanted you to tell me when you were ready."

Your face softens. Of course. You dont answer.

"Sooooooo... you want to talk about it? He sure has you happy so he clearly cant be that bad." He says with a smile.

"You have no idea." You grin.

That conversation led to an almost 1 hour long talk of you talking about Regulus. How nice he is. How attractive, because god did you find him attractive. You told him about Regulus friends. How you think that at least Evan knows. Why Regulus is actually mad at Sirius. Everything. Because you knew that Remus wouldnt tell anyone. He has always been good at keeping secrets.

"You are so whipped for him, oh my god.." He told you at the end of your rant with a small chuckle.

You felt your face get hot. "Oh fuck off. Like you arent evenly as whipped for Sirius."

"Oh low blow." You just stuck out your toungue at him in response.

Remus then got a little more serious again. "Are you gonna tell him that you like him?"

You bit the inside of your lip. "I dont know Rem. I dont think he likes me like that and i dont wanna destroy something good yk."

"Yea i know what you mean." He looks over at Sirius.

You change the topic slightly. "So, uhh.. take the map tonight?"

He looks back at you with a grin. "Yea i got it. I'm gonna go back to the others. You finish that homework before you leave tonight."

"Yea, yea, whatever."

That night your walk to the astronomy tower is interrupted.

"Oi Potter!" You stop and turn around in surprise to see a ginning Evan Rosier.

"Rosier? What do you want?"

"Oh nothing really" He is a bad liar. "Where're you headed to after curfew?"

You narrow your eyes at him. "I dont see why that is any of your business."

He knows. And you know that.

"Alright fine. I know you're meeting with Reg." You sigh and turn back around to continue your walk to the tower. Evan quickly follows you.

"Listen, Reg kinda let it slip that you guys have been meeting up."

"Okay? That still doesnt answer why youre talking to me right now."

"Well our Reggie seems pretty over the moon with you so i wanted to see for myself. He likes you you know. Like a lot." He is grinning from ear too ear now.

But its what he said that makes you pause in your steps for a second.

"What?"

"Oh yea, boy is smitten." He grins but immediately notices his mistake and his smile drops. "No wait. Forget i said that. You didnt hear anything okay?"

Your face is flushed now. Did Evan just tell you that Regulus likes you? Like... Like liked you?

"Uhm- Right."

"But just hypothetically... if you did hear something.... Would that something be reciprocated or not? Because if it was i wouldnt feel so bad for you hypothetically hearing something."

You dont even know what to say to that. You really didnt want to tell Evan about your crush on Regulus. Sure he trusts Evan but you really didnt know the guy.

"None of your business Rosier." You start walking again, while Evan just stays were he is.

"Im taking that as a yes. Dont tell Reg that i hypothetically told you that. Im not ready to die yet."

"Whatever Rosier!"

Your thoughts are racing. Regulus likes you. Except Evan is just trying to mess with you. But that doesnt seem like something he would do. Atleast not from what Regulus told you.

You are so in thought that you almost dont notice Regulus waiting when you reach the top of the tower.

You only snap out of it when you hear him call your name.

"You good?"

"Hm? Oh yea. Sorry, just thinking." You sit down next to him, like always and pull out your pack of cigarettes. You kept stealing them from Sirius and he kept wondering how they keep dissappearing.

"About?"

"Rosier just talked to me." You werent gonna tell him about the hypothetical thing Evan told you. But you were definetely gonna talk to him about the fact that Evan knew.

"Evan? Why?" He reached over, pulling a cigarette out of your pack without asking.

"He knows?" Was all you answered as you pull your lighter out of your jacket.

Regulus laughed nervously. "Uh- yea, i mightve slipped up on that. Sorry. I swear he wont tell anyone."

"Its fine, you can tell your friends as long as they keep it to themselfs." You lift your lighter to light your own cigarette, when Regulus suddenly leans into your space to light his cigarette at the same time as yours. His face only centimeters away from yours.

You flush. Fuck that was hot. He leans back with a slight grin. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.

"Any of your friends know?" He asks as if he didnt just do that. Fucker.

"Well.. Remus knows. I didnt tell him. He figured it out on his own." You stammer out.

Goddamn it.

"Lupin? Makes sense. Hes smart. He knows everything."

"Yea except for the fact that Sirius is painfully obvious in love with him. Thats the one thing he doesnt seem to notice."

"Wait what?" He seems confused. Shit. Did you just out Sirius to his brother? You thought he knew.

"Did- Did you not know Sirius is gay?"

"No, that much is obvious." Oh thank god. "I meant, Those two arent a couple?"

That makes you laugh.

"No! They've been in love with each other for years but are the only ones that havent realized it yet."

Regulus is both surprised and amused by that information.

"They had me fooled. I thought they've been together for forever." He's barely holding back his laughter.

"Nope just incedibly dense. Both of them."

Neither of you can stop the laughter at that point.

You think that this might be the most genuine laughter and smile you've ever seen from Regulus.

Your laughter dies down a little as you look at him. His head thrown back, eyes closed and mouth open in a bright grin as he laughs. He looks beautiful.

You just stare for a few seconds, with a soft smile on your face.

He stops laughing and notices your staring.

"What?" He asks, smile still on his face.

"You're Beautiful." You answer without thinking about it.

When you see his pale face flush a light pink shade in surprise you realize what you just said and look away in embarrassment.

"I- Uh- I mean.." Fuckfuckfuck. Why did you just say that. Its true yea, but still. Oh my god. You are such an idiot.

"So are you." Those three words are all it takes for your rambling thoughts to dissapper fully.

Brain empty.

You look back at him. His face is still a little pink but he has a little smile adorning his lips.

You dont know what to answer so you just stare in silence. Evans words from earlier come back to your mind.

Well our Reggie seems pretty over the moon with you ,so i wanted to see for myself. He likes you you know. Like a lot.

FUCK. You are a goner at this point.

Luckily for you Regulus seems to notice your inner turmoil and changes the conversation to something easier without a second thought.

"So, did you finish that potions homework yet?"

You are honestly thankful thatt he is just able to do that. Make you think about something else.

But for the rest of the night, hell for the rest of the week all you can think about is that moment.

The next day all your friends can tell that you are even more in thought than usual but they know better than to press on it.

Except for Remus. Between classes he pulls you aside to ask what happened. You tell him everything.

From Evans slip up to Regulus calling you beautiful.

"Thats great! To me thats a clear sign that he likes you too."

"But Rem what if i'm misinterpreting?!"

"You literally have confirmation from his best friend."

You dont have more time to talk about it because both of you have to get to your next classes.

But you keep thinking about the whole thing.

You could tell that something had changed between Regulus and you. Not in a bad way, you dont think.

You caught him looking at you more often. During meals, during class, during your meetings. You noticed because you were also looking at him more often.

Eye contact for a few seconds to long and smiling before one of you would look away.

This went on for about two weeks. How often had you thought about kissing him during those two weeks? You had lost count.

Then one night, Regulus had just made a joke that you had both laughed at for far to long, and when you finally stopped you realized how close you faces had gotten.

Regulus had noticed too.

You were staring at each other, you eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips and back up. Your tongue darting out to wet your lips in a nervous tick as you caught his eyes looking at your lips too.

You subconciously moved even closer, noses now centimeters away from brushing against each other.

Regulus is the one that asks in almost a whisper "Can I kiss you?"

You cant get any words out so you simply nod your head ever so slightly.

Regulus leans towards you, closing the gap between you in a soft kiss.

Its not heated, not rushed, its slow, soft and full with emotions.

Its perfect.

When you part, neither of want to fully pull back. Your noses still almost touching.

After a few second you gain your voice back and admit in a whisper.

"I really like you Regulus"

"Merlin I would hope so." He answers with chuckle. "I like you too."

You lean in to kiss him again.

And again.

The rest of that night included a lot more kisses. As well as a talk about what you you were to each other. You were glad about that. Not knowing would have killed you probably.

You both came to the conclusion that you wouldnt be telling people (Except the ones that you trusted) but that you are in fact dating.

You wished that you could stay like that all night but unfortunately both of you needed sleep.

"Goodnight Reg"

You kissed him one more time before starting to walk away, his hand in yours as long as you could.

"Goodnight mon cherie." You smiled to yourself all the way back to your dorm.

The next morning Remus knew. He just knew it from one look at you. You were honestly so glad that he knew and you were able to tell him everything.

The last few months until summer went well. Hang outs, kisses and talking. Regulus also at some point properly introduced you to Evan. Honestly the two of you hit it of really well.

The closer summer got, the more nervous both you and Regulus got.

He would have to go back to his parents and you wouldnt be able to write each other without his parents asking questions.

You spent the last night before summer in eachothers arms, telling him to be careful. You didnt want to part from each other but reluctantly did so right before sunrise with a long, loving kiss.

That morning both of you kept stealing glances at each other, Remus doing his best to ease your worries.

On the platform you barely had enough time to see Regulus dissappear with his parents.

"You coming?" You turned around at James question.

"Yeah."

The first half of the summer was pretty uneventful, even though you still worried about Regulus.

For the second half, Remus had joined your family.

A week later you were helping your mother prepare dinner when you heard a soft knock on your front door.

Confused you turned toward Euphemia.

"Are we expecting someone mum?"

"Not that i know of. Would you mind checking who it is darling?"

"Sure." You quickly put down the plate you were previously holding and went to answer the door.

On the other side was the last person you expected to see.

"Reggie?" Your voice filled with worry and almost a whisper.

Regulus looked bad. Almost worse than Sirius when he appeared at your doorsttep a year and a half prior. He was bleeding and bruised, and looked like he was minutes away from keeling over.

His eyes met yours, filled with tears that were steadily flowing down his cheeks.

"I didnt know were else to go..." His voice was hoarse like he had been screaming and shaky from crying.

Before he had even finished his sentence he had stepped towards you, nearly falling into your arms. You hugged him back while pulling him back into the house with you with a small "cmon..".

Inside you let go of him, carefully guiding him into the living room and onto your couch only stopping near the kitchen to yell to your mother.

"Mum! We need the healing kit!"

Your mother immediately stuck her head out the kitchen door to see what was going on.

"Oh dear." She quickly left to get the kit.

Meanwhile you had carefully sat Regulus onto your couch,sitting next to him and holding his hand, scared that hugging would hurt him. You didnt need to ask what had happened. That much was pretty obvious.

"Regulus." You urged him to look at you with a small squeeze of your hand. "Hey.. Its gonna be okay. Your safe now. I promise."

He didnt answer but layed his forehead onto your shoulder and squezed you hand back. He was still crying although not as hysterically anymore.

Euphemia entered the room, healing kit in hand and carefully sat infront of Regulus on the floor. You had done this before so she knew to be careful as not to scare him.

"Regulus right?" Her voice was soft and quiet as if she was talking to a scared animal. He didnt react so you nodded at your mother to confirm that she had the right name.

"Regulus, I'm gonna heal you now. But i have to touch you for that. Is that alright with you?"

Regulus nodded ever so slightly with his head still against your shoulder. Euphemia caught the slight movement and immediately started to examine the extent of his injuries before starting to heal them one by one. It would take a while and she wouldnt be able to heal all of them fully right that moment. It had been the same with Sirius.

You quietly soothed him through all of it. Continuing to hold his hand, your thumb stroking over the back of his hands while you whispered comforting words into his ear.

Unfortunately in the middle of all this our brother and Sirius had decided to make their entrance.

"Hey mum, is dinner almost ready?" James asked while he and Sirius came down the stairs.

But before Euhemia could answer you heard both boys exclaim at the same time.

"What the fuck??!"

"Regulus?!"

Both of you looked up at them at the same time. Regulus face still stained with tears and blood.

Sirius made his way over in a instant, sitting beside your mother and grasping Regulus other hand in his bigger ones. His eyes were filled with worry. Of course they were. Even if him and Regulus werent on good terms, he was still his brother. And seeing him like that made him fall back into that role within seconds.

"Shit, what happened?? Did they..??" He didnt finish his sentence. He didnt have to. Because he also knew.

Regulus started tearing up again and turned his head towards you to try and hide it.

You instantly hugged him against you in comfort, your second hand reaching up to the back of his head to cradle it against the junction of your neck and shoulder.

"Sssh, its okay Reg." Your face pressed against the side of his head a told him that.

Your eyes met James over Regulus head. He just stood there perplexed. Not only was Regulus fucking Black bleeding in his living room, but he also cuddled up close to his sister like they were close.

You knew that you had a lot of explaining to do later, but right now you had different priorities.

So you ignored James and continued talking to Reglulus in a quite voice to help him calm down, occasionally pressing little kisses to his temple and hair.

When your mother was done, she slowly got up. "I'll leave you guys alone for a bit. If you need something just call."

She left the room at the same time as Remus entered, having come down to see what was taking the boys so long.

Remus quickly hid his surprise at the fact that Regulus was here and simply asked "Is he okay?".

You simply looked at him and said "He will be."

After that you all sat in silence for a few minutes, only disruted by Regulus quiet sniffeles.

When he had finally calmed down again he still refused to let go of you.

Remus was the first to speak up.

"I think he should take a shower, get all that blood of him. Prongs, Padfoot, wait in the kitchen well join you in a minute."

Both boys started to protest but Remus wasnt having it and herded them to the kitchen looking back at you for a second.

" I got it Rem."

You helped Regulus up, guiding him to the bathroom.

Once you were there you closed the door behind you and turned towards Regulus.

He grabbed you by your hips and pulled you towards him. Being close to you always comforted him.

You reached up to carefully hold his face in your hands.

"Are you okay?" Worry was evident in your eyes and voice.

"Now that im with you i will be." He answered quietly, leaning down to lay his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.

Your quiet moment was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Hey." Remus. "Can i come in? I got you some clothes."

You pulled away from Regulus and opened the door, stepping aside slightly so Remus could hand Regulus the stack of dark clothing.

"They're Sirius, so the should fit you." He then looked at you. "They have a lot of questions. You should come downsairs and talk to them."

You sigh. This was what you were scared of. "Okay, I'll be down is a few."

Remus nodded and sent one last smile at the two of you before leaving.

You turned towards Regulus again. "Do you need help with anything or are you good?"

"I think im good" And then quieter. " Thank you. You dont understand how much all of this means to me."

You smile at him and step closer to press a small kiss to his lips. "Of course. Im here for you. Always." Before leaving him to shower, closing the door behind you.

You take a deep breath before beginning your way to the kitchen. Halfway there you could already hear your brother.

"Why are you so calm about this Moony?! Did you know?!"

"Prongs will you calm down?"

"No-"

All conversation halted when you entered the kitchen, all eyes turning to you.

James looked both confused and near furious and Sirius just looked confused. Like he wasnt sure what to make of the whole situation yet.

"Explain." Is all James said as he said down at the table and pointed at the chair across from him.

You said down and so did Sirius next to James, and Remus, next to you.

"After summer last year, I've started to go to the astronomy tower at night. Just for some peace and quiet, away from everything you know.

One night he was there too. A few days after school start. He didnt really say anything. We just sat together. He didnt look good. Like, really tired and he had this giant bruise on his face. He had it hidden during the day, but that night i saw it. I didnt say anything about it, but i knew it was from his parents.

After that night we just kept meeting there. We didnt talk, we really just sat in silence with each other. At some point i started to tell him about my day. He never said anything but he also kept coming."

You looked from James betrayed eyes down to your hands that layed intertwined with each other on the table.

"Then after christmas break, he looked so much worse than before. And that night he broke down. And he told me everything. About his parents. And how much worse the got after Sirius left."

Your eyes flicked to Sirius face. Guilt written all over it.

"After that we just started talking to each other. About anything. He even introduced me to a few of his friends. They're honestlyy really nice. They dont support their parents ideas really. And a few months ago..."

You looked at Remus. His expression encouraging you to continue.

Fuck it. Just rip of the bandaid.

"A few months ago we kissed and we've kinda been dating since then." Your eyes were glued to a little scratch in the surfice of the table. Refusing to meet James or Sirius glances.

"WHAT?!"

"Prongs. Calm down. I think they're good for each other. Its their life. Not yours." Thank merlin that Remus exists. You didnt know what you would do without him.

"How long have you known about is Moony?!"

Remus looked down for a second before meeting James eyes again. "Right before christmas."

James was about to answer something probably dumb, when Sirius suddenly turned towards you.

"I cant believe you wouldnt tell me you were in a relationship."

You chuckled nervously. "Thats the part that bothers you about this?"

"YES! And also I'm trying to focus on something that isnt the fact that your DATING MY LITLE BROTHER... so i dont freak out." You could tell that he was really trying.

"Im sorry i didnt tell you. I was just worried how you would react." You said apologetically.

"For good reason." Remus mumbled making you smile slightly.

James face softened. "Well.. as much as i dont agree with this. And i dont. For the record. Remus is right. Its your life. But if he tries to pull something you tell me alright? And ill take care of it."

"Oi thats my little brother your talking about!" That made you smile. At least they're trying. "But seriously, if he tries something you tell us."

"He wont. But thank you." You smile at them. Remus laying his hand on your shoulder making you look over at him.

Then Sirius half joking, half serious voice makes you look at him again.

"But seriously my brother? Why? Out of everyone."

"Wow Sirius. I feel kind of attacked." At the sound of Regulus voice you quickly turn around.

He stood a meter behind your chair , black hair wet and tousled, his tall slim frame clad in a pair of black sweatpants and a black sabbath shirt.

"Reg. How're you feeling?" Your voice was still filled with worry even though Regulus already looked a lot better. You held your hand out towards him, beconing him closer.

He took your hand, walking over to sit in the open chair to your left. Remus being on your right.

"Better." He said a soft smile on his face, as he just looked at you for a moment.

You smiled back at him before saying "I think we should get mum back and finish making dinner. You hungry?"

"Starving." It sounded like a joke but honestly with his parents you could never know.

"Remus, make sure they're being civil okay?" You spoke as you got up, squeezing Regulus shoulder in passing. "I'll be right back."

Just as you left the room you could hear Sirius whine. "Moony we're always civil! I dont know what they mean."

"Yea yea Padfoot whatever you say." You could pracicaly hear the adoring smile in Remus voice.

Surprisingly when you came back with your mother, no one was dead.

Your mother had pulled both you and James with her to help with the food, giving him the perfect oppertunity to keep asking you annoying questions about you and Regulus.

Remus offered to set the table, giving Sirius and Regulus a chance to talk. Something they hadnt properly done in years. You didnt hear what they said but it ended in a hug so at least it was good.

Dinner was kind of awkward. Your Dad having to quickly be filled in on what happened when he arrived in the kitchen.

Regulus was given the guest room to sleep in, Remus had been sleeping in James and Sirius room anyways. So when you were sure he three boys were in bed you snuck into the guest room, cuddling up with Regulus under the blanket.

"I saw you speaking with Sirius earlier." He hummed in reply, his face hidden in your hair, his left arm around your waist, holding you close to him.

"Did you talk everything out?" You turn slightly in his hold so you could look a him. Your faces now right infront of each oher.

"Not everything. Thats gonna take a while. But he apologized. Its a start." His voice was low and tired.

" Thats good. I know how much you both missed each other." Again he simply hummed in response.

"I think we should sleep." You say with a grin. "You're barely awake anyway." Another hum.

You lean forward for a soft kiss. He kissed back. "Goodnight mon cherie."

You smile. "Sleep well Reggie."

He cuddled back into you, his face against your neck, arms holding you close, legs tangled with yours.

You smile at his almost asleep form.

He was okay.

He was safe.

And he was yours.

And maybe. Just maybe. You would be okay.

669 notes · View notes

13uswntimagines · 4 months

Text

I'll Take Care of You (Alessia Russo x MMA!fighter R)

Request: Could we maybe see some slightly more stern dom alessia dealing with r (doesn’t have to be smut) in front of the team because reader starts acting bratty with them?

Part of the same universe as the come down.

Warning: Slight touching but not actual smut. Also D/S fic

Author's note: Hey Y'all, i really hope you enjoy this. I want to point out that D/S dynamics are based on trust and communication, so that's what I chose to focus on. Alessia is a soft dom, and chooses a punishment that she knows will be effective. If you want to chat or have any ideas or comments, feel free to hit me up.

Gearing up for a fight was the equivalent of stretching out a rubber band to its limit. It was 8 weeks of nonstop training, 4 weeks of conditioning your body to shed water so you could make weight, 2 weeks of cameras following you around for UFC embedded, and 1 week of media bombardment where you had to listen to grown men act like 5-year-olds talking about who was going to beat who.

It was utterly exhausting.

The only upside was that at the end of it, you got to step into the octagon and do what you did best.

You got to put the plan your coaches drilled over and over into your brain into place. You got to release all of the built-up anxiety and frustration from camp.

You got to fight.

It was like coming up for oxygen after being trapped underwater. Sometimes the cage felt like the only place you could really breathe on your own.

It had been your safe haven for almost as long as you could remember, which was kinda strange considering your health was put at immediate risk every time you stepped inside. It had been your escape from your family, and your only coping mechanism for as long as you could remember.

To go through training camp, and fight week and the weight cut, only to have your fight pulled at the last minute was fucking devastating.

It was like when Alessia brought you all the way to the precipice of an orgasm and then pulled away just before you could tumble over it, except far far far worse.

It made your blood boil. It made the monster in your chest roar that your opponent couldn’t do his end of the job to make the fight go on after all of the shit he was talking. And there was nothing anyone could say or do to make it better.

Dana promised that the fight would be rescheduled. He even threw in that if you won, you would be next in line for a title shot.

But it didn’t help.

The fight was set to be at the O2 arena, meaning your girlfriend and all of her teammates had been set to see you, and now they couldn’t. You couldn’t get your 10 training weeks back and you would have to do the weight cut all over again.

It was a shit sandwich, and it made you feel completely out of control. It made you crave for someone else to put you right again. For Alessia to remind you that she had control always.

Maybe that’s why you chose your satin button-down shirt to go to dinner with your girlfriend and her teammates and paired it with tight black skinny jeans.

It wasn’t often that you liked to push Alessia’s control. That you toed the boundaries that she set, but tonight it felt like the prize comparable to stepping into the cage.

With the little black dress she had worn, you really couldn’t blame yourself either. You could never resist when she showed off her legs. You were obsessed and she knew it. It was probably why she had chosen the outfit, to begin with.

It was probably designed as a reward of sorts for after your fight, except you weren’t having a fight. So you supposed it was kind of like a consolation prize.

Except you felt wound too tightly to really enjoy it.

“So that’s it, they just call the whole thing off?” Ella asked leaning forward to rest her chin in her hand.

“Yep,” You popped the p, your finger running a gentle circle on Alessia’s exposed knee. “I can’t even sign a paper that says I’m fine fighting him despite the failed drug test, and it’s too late to find a replacement even if we allow a catchweight,”

She let the movement continue, the hand wrapped around your shoulder gently squeezing the arm furthest away from her.

While she was relieved that the rules prevented you from fighting a man on steroids, she knew how gutted you were about the cancellation.

“Probably for the best mate,” Leah said, sipping her wine.

You shrugged, letting your finger trail a little higher on Alessia’s leg.

It was slightly too… forward for the steakhouse her teammates had chosen, but with the dimmed lights you figured no one could see your hand under the white tablecloth anyway. Not with how close you were sitting to your girlfriend.

“I already made weight, so it’s kind of a waste,” You muttered, dragging your nails up the inside of her thigh to just below the hem of her dress. “I’ll have to start camp all over again unless I take something short notice,”

“Can you do that?” Mary asked, from your other side.

You shrugged again. “I told Dana I was game if he needed someone to fill in, so we’ll have to see,”

Alessia’s eyebrows pulled tighter together “You didn’t tell me that, love,”

“Didn’t I?” You asked, feigning dumb, as your fingers finally made it past the hem of her dress. “Must have forgotten. I’m excited to see you all play on Tuesday though,”

You ran your nail across the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh, dangerously close to her center. But before you could make it any further, her free hand caught your wrist, and repositioned you so your hand was resting very innocently near her knee again.

“Ireland is always fun to face,” Ella smiled at you. “Should be a bit chippy,”

“I’ll definitely be rocking my MacCabe jersey,” You matched her expression, your thumb again beginning to rub circles into Alessia’s skin.

Leah frowned, dropping her menu. “You will?”

“Absolutely,” You smirked, wiggling your eyebrows and slyly trailing your thumb back up Alessia’s thigh. “Gotta support my favorite foul-mouthed Gooner,”

Leah’s eyes went wide, and Alessia squeezed your shoulder.

“And what about me?” Your girlfriend asked, a pout pulling at her lips.

You wiggled your eyebrows, a witty remark at the tip of your tongue, knowing it would piss her off, but the tension in your chest made you unable to stop yourself.

You wanted to push her. To force a reaction, even when you knew all you had to do was ask for what you wanted.

“Are you ladies ready to order?” A waiter asked, appearing behind Leah before you could let it fly.

You let your smirk widen, closing your menu with a thud and making eye contact with the waiter.

“Since she’s not on the menu,” You started, leaning closer to your girlfriend for just a second, edging your hand even further up her thigh until it was again past the hem of her dress. “I think I’ll have the tomahawk, medium rare with a Yorkie and the roasted carrots please,”

You winked at the waiter for good measure as the table giggled and Alessia’s cheeks turned bright red.

The waiter cleared his throat, turning his attention to your girlfriend. “And for you ma’am?”

Alessia opened her mouth, probably to order, but you cut her off instead.

“She’ll take the sirloin, medium with the Orzo and kale salad,” You said, reciting her normal order with perfect precision. “And she’ll be having me for dessert later,”

More giggles erupted from your friends, and you dragged your hand impossibly higher, extending your pinky so it brushed against her underwear.

She inhaled sharply next to you, sending you a warning side eye as the rest of the table continued to order, but she didn’t immediately remove your hand.

You ignored her warning, letting your pinky slide over the satiny fabric of her underwear.

It wasn’t what she normally wore, and you couldn’t help the wolfish grin that took over your features.

She had worn lingerie for you.

Maybe that should have stopped you. Made you consider that you wouldn’t get anything if you kept pushing, but again you couldn’t seem to help yourself.

“Will you be in the Ireland friends and family section then?” Leah asked, wiggling her eyebrows at your girlfriend. “Cause I don’t think my family or Less’ will enjoy you wearing the opposing team’s jersey,”

You made a noise like you were considering it as you finally slid your hand up and cupped your girlfriend’s heat. “I don’t think I’d feel at home though. Surely your family can deal with it right Less?”

Alessia nodded once, very stiffly. “My family loves you no matter what you’re wearing,”

You smiled impishly at her, adding just a little more pressure to her core.

She shifted in her seat, leaning very close to your ear, as Ella started talking about some movie she and Joe had watched, taking the attention of the rest of Alessia’s teammates.

“They’d even love you if you had to wear your collar at the game,” She chuckled darkly in your ear, her voice soft enough to get lost in the noise of the restaurant as her free hand yet again caught your wrist and pulled your hand back to a much more innocent position. “Now behave, or I promise you’ll regret it,”

You pulled away, your devilish smirk only getting broader. “No,”

Her eyebrows furrowed her expression something between anger and concern and warning, like she was trying to figure out why you were pushing the boundaries when you never did before.

You wiggled yours in return, offering her nothing else before joining the conversation of her teammates.

You weren’t ready to talk yet.

You were too content digging yourself deeper and deeper.

*****

You continue to push Alessia all throughout dinner, taking every opportunity to make her blush or to creep your hand further up her thigh. At one point you had even wiggled a finger beneath her underwear before she could stop you.

And your behavior hadn’t stopped once you left the restaurant.

You definitely placed your hand far too low on her waist as you and your friends walked back to the hotel the UFC had rented for you, and winked cheekily at the fans as you entered the building, spending far too long signing things and flirting just to annoy your girlfriend.

You knew from the “come on darling,” and the way she wrapped her arm around you, her fingers closing gently around the back of your neck that you were in serious trouble as she led you into the hotel and to the elevator.

“Good luck mate,” Leah nodded towards you as she stepped into her hotel room after Mary and Ella. “Think you’re gonna need it after that show,”

She tilted her head toward your girlfriend glaring a hole in Leah’s doorframe.

“Good night Leah,” Your girlfriend bit out, pressing her thumb into the space at the very center of the back of your neck.

Leah rolled her eyes at the movement, well aware of the dynamic between you and your girlfriend. More aware than most of her teammates for both club and country because of how long you had known her. “Right you two, do have too much fun,”

You stared at the door for a long moment after it closed, the tension in your chest bleeding down to your stomach.

You knew your time was up. That you would have to pay the piper so to speak, and it had guilt swirling along with the unpleasantness.

You knew that all you had to do was utter a word and it would all be over.

You knew that Alessia would stick to your limits, no matter how hard you pushed her, but you couldn’t help the… lingering anxiety that came from your past relationships.

The ones that took advantage of your submissiveness, and the unhealthy way you had always chosen to deal with stress. The ones that ignored your pain for their own pleasure.

“Come on then,” Alessia said, very gently running the nail of her thumb down the length of the back of your neck, and squeezing your shoulder.

You hummed, allowing her to lead you down the hallway to your own hotel room door, but she paused before she opened it. You looked up at her, realizing suddenly that you were trapped between her and the door.

She stepped closer so your noses were nearly touching. She dragged her hand from your neck to your chin, using her thumb to tilt your head to where she wanted it.

“I love you,” She said, her voice soft and sincere. “No matter what,”

She leaned in the last centimeter separating you, connecting your lips in a very sweet kiss.

You leaned into it, opening your mouth when her tongue poked out, welcoming it and meeting it with your own so they spun in a slow dance.

It was the reminder that you desperately needed.

The promise that she would take care of you, even when you acted like a brat.

She pulled away just enough to disconnect your lips, and your mouths separated with a low pop.

“Remind me of your colors,” Alessia said, her thumb running across your cheek.

“Green for good, yellow for slow down, and red for stop,” You recited, your voice breathless.

“Good girl,” She hummed. “Open the door, and take off your shirt and pants once we get inside,”

You swallowed hard at the change of tone.

“Yes Miss,” You said, already pulling the key card from the back pocket of your jeans. You didn’t look away from her as you fumbled until you heard the lock on the door beep, and clumsily pushed it open.

You stumbled backward, unwilling to break eye contact with your girlfriend because you knew you would probably get very little of it tonight.

She turned away from you as soon as the door slammed shut, busying herself with something you didn’t know.

“I believe I told you to do something,” She said, not even sparing a look over her shoulder at you, and you realized you had been staring for too long.

You cleared your throat, your fingers trembling as they unbuttoned your straining shirt.

You carefully pulled the satin materials from your shoulders, folding it neatly and laying it on the bed before you started on your pants.

It took you three tries to undo the button, the zipper getting caught in the stretchy material of your boxers. You peeled your tight jeans down your legs, folding them and placing them next to your shirt.

You felt Alessia’s presence behind you as you pulled off your shoes and socks.

As soon as they had been placed in their rightful place, her hand found its way to your bare back.

The touch was soothing and grounding and exactly what you needed to combat the slightly floaty feeling in your brain.

The hand slid up your back, all the way to your neck.

“Kneel,”

The soft squeeze on the back of your neck was like magic, as was the soft, but stern order.

You sank to your knees without question, your butt resting on your heels, your hands facing palm up on your thighs, your back straight and your head bowed, as the tension in your chest slowly ebbed away.

“I think we need to have a chat,” She continued, the hand on your neck sliding up to run through the hair at the base of your skull. Her nails scratched soothingly at your scalp. “Because your behavior in the restaurant is not the behavior of the good girl I trained,”

You grunted, glaring at a spot in the carpet.

You didn’t want to talk.

You already had to talk to Dana, to your coaches, and to the media. You had nothing left to say.

“Do you want to tell me what that was about at dinner?” She asked you, the fingers on your scalp wrapping through your curls. She gave it a sharp tug, forcing you to look up at her. “Because I’d really like to know what the fuck you were playing at,”

Her blue eyes burned into you, concerned and… something else lingering below the surface.

“I wasn’t playing at anything,” You grit out.

She raised a perfect eyebrow at you, as she searched your face.

“Is this because your fight was canceled?”

You didn’t answer her, unwilling to admit how… off balanced it made you feel.

But that was enough of an answer for her.

Her eyes softened minutely. “Baby,”

You shook your head.

You didn’t want her sympathy or her pity.

You wanted her to crush you.

“Alright,” She signed, tilting your head back so far it was painful. “I’m going to give you 2 options. We can call Clarke and Lexa and they can run you through a workout,”

You shivered at the mention of your respective striking and jujitsu coaches, knowing already that whatever the alternative was, you would be choosing it.

“Or you can take a punishment of my choosing,” She finished. “It won’t be an easy one,”

“I’ll take a punishment,” You muttered after a beat.

You didn't need easy right now.

She hummed, holding you close for a long second, and you relished in the attention.

That had been why you acted out at all anyway.

She dropped her hold on your hair suddenly, and you crashed back on your knees.

“On the wall,” She said, completely cutting contact with you, and walking towards the little kitchen area of the suite.

You let out a shaky breath, pushing yourself to your feet, and shuffled over to the wall next to the television across from the couch.

You turned to face the couch, wincing when Alessia pulled a wine glass out of the cabinet and a jug of water from the counter and returned to you.

She carefully filled the glass to the halfway mark, before her attention turned to you.

You knew immediately what punishment she had chosen.

The rules were simple, you would balance the glass in one of the designated calisthenic positions. If the water spilled, or the glass fell then you would move to the next position. The punishment would be over when you made it through all 15 positions to Alessia’s satisfaction, or if you safeworded.

It sounded easy, or like it wouldn’t be effective, but that was entirely wrong. It was the punishment that you hated the most.

Your stomach never failed to drop when Alessia approached you with the wine glass and water. Just the sight of her with it was enough to have your muscles quivering at the impending fatigue.

“Ready darling?”

You made a low sound, leaning back against the wall, bending your knees, and getting into the first position.

A wall sits with your knees pressed together to focus the pressure on your quads.

She used a hand on your shoulder to push you further down the wall until your thighs sat parallel to the floor, and then very carefully balanced the stem of the wine glass between your knees so the base just barely brushed your hamstring.

You frowned. She usually balanced it on top of your legs further up your thighs so all you had to do was stay level. But where it was now meant that you would have to stay level and squeeze with your adductors so it didn’t slip and spill the water.

“Tell me your color,” She said, her thumb sweeping under your chin, drawing your eyes away from the glass to meet her blue.

“Green,” you murmured, leaning into the gentle touch.

“Good,” She hummed, cupping your cheek for another long second before she pulled away. “I’ll be right there, reading my book,”

Your gaze trailed after her as she settled herself on the couch directly across from you, picking up the 7 Husbands of Evelyn Hugo. She easily found her page and began to read.

You glanced back to the balancing glass between your knees. It was already shaking slightly, the liquid vibrating around the bowl of the glass with the effort of your muscles to keep it in place.

It irritated you that you could already feel your quads and adductors quivering. It was pathetic that they were already fatigued after only 30 seconds.

You grit your teeth, letting your hips slip down further so you could squeeze with your glutes to take a little bit of the pressure off of your adductors. The glass shifted minutely, and the water inside sloshed dangerously before it settled.

Your eyes flickered back up to Alessia, wondering if she saw it too, but her eyes stayed planted in her book.

That irritated you too.

The only upside to your fight being canceled was that you got to spend more time with her. You wouldn’t have to split your attention between her and not getting your face caved in.

Now you didn’t even have that.

You thought of safewording and forcing an early end to your punishment. It would be a violation of the rules though.

But when she found out that you broke her trust (the most severe infraction you could ever commit) she might choose a more… harsh punishment. One of the ones that was listed in the soft limits the two of you had agreed upon. One that would separate you from reality, and leave you feeling floaty and thoroughly controlled. Thoroughly owned.

A part of you wanted her to forcibly put you in your place. To disregard how bad it would feel tomorrow and the bad memories it would bring up for you, and just demolish you. To crush your will and grind you into dust. To beat you into oblivion.

It was what your opponent would have done anyway.

You knew Alessia would never agree to it while you were this upset. She didn’t like to give in to your self-destructive tendencies.

The glass between your knees shook again, drawing your attention back to the warm fire setting deeply into your quads. They would ache tomorrow you were sure, but then again wasn’t that part of the point?

It would be a reminder that even when she wasn’t with you, you belonged to Alessia. It was an invisible mark that claimed you. That reminded you she would always take control when you felt dangerously unstable.

And then it clicked.

This punishment was Alessia’s favorite because it was based on your choice to obey her. Your choice to push your body to its limits to please her. Your choice to give her control over you.

She didn’t need to use a belt or a paddle to bend you to her will.

She just had to ask.

You just had to relax and trust that she would take care of you.

You let out a long breath, counting down from 3 in your head. You let it fall back into the wall with a low thump and your shoulders sagged, as the remaining tension in your chest drained out of you.

“Good girl,” Alessia said softly, and the page of her book turned. Your eyes darted back to her, hoping that they would be on you, but they weren’t.

She looked so composed, both legs tucked under her, reading her book. It was diametrically opposed to how you felt, completely out of control. A quivering mess fighting to stay in a simple wall sit.

It further reminded you of your place, and the weight of it was enough to have your eyes sliding closed.

You focused on your breathing, 3 seconds and 3 seconds out. Deep and slow.

You lasted for more breaths before the glass slid from between your legs, landing on the carpeted floor with a light thud.

Your eyes snapped open, and again you expected to meet Alessia’s eyes, but they remained trained on her book.

“Next please,” She said softly, flipping another page in her book.

You slid down the wall to the floor, sucking in another long breath as you nodded, wishing that she would just look at you, but you knew that was part of the punishment too.

You took another breath as you rolled over to your stomach and sat yourself up on your elbows, squeezing your core. It was a slightly modified plank designed to show off the muscles in your back and arms for the benefit of your girlfriend and to give your legs a break for a bit.

She waited until you were in a position to stand, slowly padding over to you and grabbing the wine glass off of the floor.

She paused next to you, and you felt the way her eyes dragged across the muscles on your back.

“Always so pretty for me,” She hummed and you heard the water as she refilled the glass. “Too bad you can’t have the reward I had planned,”

Her touch lingered as she carefully balanced it between your shoulder blades, and stepped away.

“Let’s see if you can beat your best time on this one,” She said, talking more at you than to you. “Your record is 22 minutes, which isn’t quite championship timing. I think you need to make it at least 25,”

You groaned.

Her competitive streak was legendary and often a part of your punishment when you had been particularly ornery. You switched positions at her pleasure, so you knew you would be planking all night if you couldn’t break 25 minutes.

It was like when she decided you needed to break your edging record.

There would be no mercy unless you safeworded.

You focused on your breathing as she sauntered back to the couch, fighting to keep your core and back muscles locked to prevent the glass from tipping.

Your abs clenched, and you so badly wanted to roll your shoulders to relieve the tension building in the space between them. The space holding the glass.

You focused on the sound of Alessia’s breathing. Each rhythmic inhale and exhale like the clicking of a metronome, broken only by the occasional fluttering of a page.

You wished she had put the timer in front of you so you could see how long you had left.

But then again that would probably be worse.

You always found it harder to go the distance in a fight when you could see the clock ticking down. It always made you feel more exhausted at the end of the round, and made standing up off of your stool at the start of the next round that much harder.

You sucked in another breath, refocusing on the sounds of Alessia’s inhales and exhales. You counted each one, letting them wash over you and lul the fog slowly seeping through the crevices in your brain.

It let you forget the trembling in your core muscles and the sting between your shoulders. They didn’t matter. All that mattered was each of Alessia’s breaths, and your ability to please her.

To be honest, you forgot about the water balancing on your back.

You shifted, lifting your head so you could watch Alessia, and that sent the glass tumbling to the floor with a low thud.

She looked up at the noise, pushing herself to her feet and grabbing the glass.

“Good job darling. You made time.” She rewarded you by meeting her eyes for a long second and flashing you a winning smile. “Position 3,”

You took another deep breath as she filled the glass.

You pushed yourself up into a pushup position, slowly lifting your right arm and left leg so they extended.

Your arms shook immediately, and it was then that you recognized just how exhausted you were already. Your core ached in a way that was edging on unpleasant, and your back felt like you had run 5 rounds with your jujitsu coach.

It was strange that you felt so drained and you had only made it through 2 positions.

Alessia waited until you were stable before she balanced the glass in the very same area between your shoulder blades.

The spot that felt so tight.

You knew you weren’t going to last long before she even stepped away. But you tried to breathe through it. You tried to ignore the little beads of sweat collecting at the small of your back, and the cramp setting in just below the glass, radiating up to your neck.

You deserved the pain. You had done your damndest to make sure Alessia gave it to you.

“Tell me your color,” Alessia said, her voice dripping dominance, sending a shiver down your spine and causing the glass to tumble off your back.

You collapsed to the floor.

You hadn’t even made it a minute.

“‘M ok,” You murmured into the carpet, each breath rattling as it left your lips.

You hadn’t even lasted long enough for Alessia to make it back to her seat.

It was pathetic.

“That’s not what I asked you,” She said, crouching next to you, her hand resting on the throbbing space between your shoulders. “Tell me what your color is,”

Your brain ran into overdrive, taking stock of the burn in your thighs, and the way the muscles in your back were locked up tight, and before you could even think through all the reasons why you shouldn’t safe word, “red,” was falling from your lips.

You had been red before you even started position 3, you realized.

“Good girl,” She said, settling fully down beside you, her hand running soothingly up and down your sweat-soaked back. “You did so well for me, and I’m so proud of you for knowing your limits,”

You groaned into the carpet as warmth spread through your chest, chasing away the last of the tightness that had been there since Dana caught you after the weigh-ins.

“‘M sorry for pushing you,” You mumbled, your words nearly getting lost in the floor. “Didn’t know how to…”

You trailed off, losing your train of thought. You weren’t even sure what you didn’t know how to do, only that antagonizing your girlfriend. Your miss. Had been the only way that seemed to make sense to achieve it.

“I know darling,” She hummed, gripping under your arms and shifting so your head was resting in her lap and your upper body was between her legs. “Take some deep breaths for me, and then we’ll get you cleaned up and we can cuddle,”

You made a low sound of agreement. You felt content with her completely around you, her scent enveloping you, and her hands running gently through your tangled hair.

She was the stability to your rocky seas, and you trusted that she would take care of you, just like she had already tonight.

A cuddle sounded perfect because it was perfect.

It was everything you needed. She was everything you needed.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #the come down universe

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roosterforme · 5 months

Text

Adult Education Part 11 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica finally tells someone what happened with Brian, and maybe Jake would be just as understanding if she told him. With the fraternity fundraiser a few days away, her nerves start getting the best of her, but Jake continues to show how effortlessly he can make her happy.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing, frat boys 18+

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jessica felt so much better and yet emotionally drained at the same time. She spent almost thirty minutes telling her friend what happened with Brian, and she was pleasantly surprised to find that the other woman wasn't judgmental in the least. When Jessica was finally done talking, she sank back in her chair and fixed her glasses.

"So, yeah... that's why he's holding a grudge. That's why he won't give me tenure even though I deserve it."

She was met with a stony expression. "Just say the word, and Conley is going down. Have you... mentioned this to Jake?"

"No," Jessica replied immediately, her skin itching at the thought. "No."

"You should," she replied slowly. "I think he'd be surprisingly attentive, and I say that a bit begrudgingly."

Jessica cracked a smile as she grabbed her empty tupperware container and stood. "I'll think about it, Dr. Tits." She left the office to the sound of genuine laughter, but by the time she got back to her office, she felt exhausted. It wasn't fair that Brian had taken up so much space in her brain for so long. When Jake texted her and let her know he couldn't make it to her office hours, she felt almost relieved.

The fraternity fundraiser was this Saturday, and she'd planned everything out as much as she could. Everything was checked off her list, and she was going to meet with the Kappa Pi students at their house on Wednesday evening. The only thing she hadn't done was log into the university portal and see how many tickets had sold for the event.

Alumni weekend was a huge deal, and it was well attended and advertised, but she was still dreading checking. So she finished all of her classes for the afternoon and then ducked into the lounge to make herself a cup of coffee before her office hours started.

She looked up as someone else entered, and it was Brian's teaching assistant. The one he was almost definitely sleeping with. "Hi," she said cautiously.

Jessica just nodded at her. She wanted to warn this poor girl, but it was obvious that Brian had her in a similar position to which Jessica had been in last school year. Plus, she already knew he'd make sure both women paid the price if she did.

It was with tears in her eyes that Jessica returned to her office. That hopeful feeling from lunch was gone now, and she really wished Jake was able to stop by today after all. She plopped down at her desk and decided to just log in and see how poorly her ticket sales had gone.

"Holy shit," she muttered, nearly spilling her coffee. Over one hundred tickets had sold, and the event was still days away. "Oh my god." Tears welled up in her eyes as she did the math quickly in her head. Her event would make over five thousand dollars for the school. Hopefully the fraternity house would be able to hold that capacity.

When her phone vibrated on her desk, she was startled from her thoughts.

Jake Seresin: I miss you too much. I can't stay long, but I'll be there in ten.

She didn't even bother to respond, but she was waiting by the open door for him when he rushed down the hallway. "Jake," she said with a soft laugh as he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her. He was still wearing his flight suit, and he was a little out of breath.

"I missed you," he whispered against her lips, and that made her a little bit out of breath as well. One big hand slid down to her butt as he said, "We had late training days sprung on us for today and tomorrow, and I volunteered to pick up dinner. I talked them into the Thai restaurant down the block from here." Then he froze as Jessica ran her fingers along his patches. "Were you crying? It looks like you were crying."

She shrugged and smiled. "Yeah, but it's not bad." She smiled more as Jake kissed along her cheeks. "A ton of tickets sold for my event on Saturday."

"How many?" he asked, looking at her with pride.

"Over one hundred."

"Damn, you're good, Baby."

Jessica was looking up at his handsome features and his sexy smirk while he cupped her cheek and ran his thumb lazily along her bottom lip. She kissed his thumb before licking him, and when his eyes went wide, she laughed. "You can't stay?"

He shook his head. "I'll come back on Thursday. We can go to Chippy's after your office hours?"

"Yeah," she replied, tracing his HANGMAN patch. She could already hear Luca's skateboard on the tiled hallway floor, so she needed to be quick. "Do you want to sleep over on Friday night at my place? We could head to the event from there on Saturday? I could... show you the lingerie in my closet?"

Jake groaned softly, and goosebumps rippled down her neck as he asked, "Will you let me pick out something pretty for you to wear?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed as she pressed her lips to his neck. "Anything you want."

"Yes," he gasped, and then you heard Luca whistle.

"Get it, Dr. Reed," he said as he kicked his skateboard up into his hand. "Want me to come back later?"

"No," Jessica said as she disentangled herself from Jake's wandering hands while she blushed. "He was just leaving," she said. Then she looked up at Jake's green eyes and wide pupils. "You were just leaving."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but he kissed her lips softly and said, "Call me later tonight. I'll see you on Thursday."

She watched him rush back toward the elevator before she closed her door behind her. "How many times do I have to remind you not to skate in the hallways?"

"Sorry, Dr. Reed."

"Get out your notebook."

-----------------------

When Jessica heard a knock on her office door on Wednesday around dinnertime, she called out, "It's open." Really, she was on her way to the Kappa Pi house, and she hadn't left herself much time to deviate from her agenda. Hopefully whoever this was would make it quick, but then she smiled when she realized who it was. "Advanced Calculus. What's up?"

"Just wondering if you were looking for someone to tag along? I speak fluent 'frat boy', and Bradley is training late with Jake."

Jessica was shocked into silence for a beat. "Yeah. I would love that. I'm actually a little nervous about meeting them."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You've got boobs and a pretty face. They'll be eating out of your hand, literally doing whatever you want them to."

"I'm not so sure," she replied with apprehension. But when they walked across campus to the old Victorian fraternity house with KAPPA PI on the front of it and knocked, Jessica was pleasantly surprised.

A lanky guy with bad acne opened the door, and his eyes bugged out as he looked between the two women. "Dr. Reed?" he asked in awe.

"Yes, that's me," Jessica replied, reaching out to shake his head before introducing him to the other professor. When he made no move to do anything except stare at them, she asked, "Can we come in?"

"Y-Yes. I'm James by the way."

Jessica led the way inside, and she was pleasantly surprised again. The front foyer opened up to a rather cavernous living room and dining room. There were beautiful hardwood floors and rich paint colors and a fireplace. The house was clean, and she was sure the kegs and tables would fit inside without issue once the furniture was moved out onto the back lawn.

"Your house is so clean! Where are your fraternity brothers?" the other woman asked, and James blushed bright pink.

A few minutes later, there was a lineup of a dozen or so guys staring at the two women. Their expressions ranged from surprise to bewilderment, but there were two on the end who looked like they just won the lottery.

"Okay, hi. I'm Dr. Reed from the physics department, and I actually recognize a few of you. Calvin?" she asked, smiling at one of them. "From last semester?" He waved awkwardly back at her. "Right, well, I'm your advisor for the alumni event this weekend. I have a list of things you need to do before Saturday at six o'clock." She started passing out copies to each of them as she read off the list. "Move the furniture. Clean the kitchen. Fill the keg barrels with ice. And so on. Any questions?"

Five hands shot up, and Jessica stepped back in surprise. "Here it comes," Advanced Calculus muttered as Jessica pointed to the smirking guy at the end.

He nodded at Jessica and asked, "If I switch my major to physics, will you be teaching all the classes?"

"Um, no," she answered, shaking her head in confusion. Then she pointed at the one next to him who had his hand raised.

"Do either of you need a date for Saturday night?" he asked eagerly.

Jessica snorted and covered her mouth with her hand. She was about to answer when her friend said, "Both of our dates are in the military. And they're jacked. And they're mean."

A chorus of boos and groans filled the space, and Jessica had to try her best to answer the relevant questions without laughing. She showed the boys where to move the furniture, and she inspected the kitchen. Then she checked to see if there was enough room for the string quartet next to the stairs. She was determined to deliver on the elevated frat boy aesthetic since so many people seemed excited about it.

"I think we're done for the day," Jessica told the guys with a smile as they fought over who got to escort the two of them back to the front door. "My email address is at the bottom of the list if you need to contact me for anything." A bunch of hands shot up in the air, and she added, "Anything pertaining to the event. If you try to ask me out again, I'm just going to delete the emails."

The guys lowered their hands and mumbled goodbye as the women stepped back out onto the silent porch. "Jessica, all those boys are going to sign up for your lectures next semester. I guarantee it."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "No, they won't. If anything they'd sign up for yours!"

But she was laughing as she walked down the steps to the sidewalk, and Jessica followed behind her in her high heels. "Just wait until Jake sees the twenty one year old kids with acne trying to flirt with you. He'll get jealous and pouty, I can practically see it now."

Jessica scoffed. "No, he won't! And didn't you meet Bradley when he was twenty one years old and in a frat?"

She froze on the sidewalk as that familiar blue Bronco parked on the next block up. "I sure did. And prepare yourself. Bradley is going to be insufferable on Saturday night."

-----------------------

Jake could only really focus on Jessica. After that brief couple of minutes in her office before Luca arrived on Tuesday, he was sweating it out until he could get home and jerk off. He came all over his hands in the shower as he thought about coating up her glasses instead.

Now it was Thursday morning, and he leaned against the shower wall and thought about what kind of lingerie she might have in her closet. He hoped there was a little bit of everything. He could imagine her in something soft and white, almost ethereal. He could just as easily picture her in some leather with a riding crop. His groan filled the glass shower enclosure as he wrapped his hand around his cock again.

He realized by the time he finally started getting dressed that he was going to be late if he didn't seriously get a move on. He was just buttoning his uniform shirt when his phone lit up on his bed. Jessica had sent him an image. His fingers abandoned the buttons so quickly to grasp for his phone. And holy shit, his hot girlfriend sent him a picture of a dark purple lace bra and thong laid out on what must have been her light blue bedding.

"Fuck," he grunted as he glared down at his cock. He really didn't have time to get hard again right now. But... he was curious, so he wrote back.

You wearing that today, Jess?

She didn't respond until Jake had parked his new truck on base, but this time, she sent an up close photo of the tops of her breasts hugged by purple lace. He was practically drooling as he ran for the locker room with his bag.

Keep 'em coming, Baby.

He decided to keep his phone on him. It would be worth getting reprimanded. She sent him a handful of filthy looking photos as the day progressed, but it still wasn't enough. She must have taken a bunch of them in the morning before she left for campus, and Jake was so thankful.

He had to adjust his uniform pants several times that evening when he walked from his truck to her office. On his way into the building, he passed a delighted looking Bradshaw and his wife on their way out. She was practically hanging off of him as they walked, and Jake heard her softly ask, "Okay fuckboy, you want me to get your Beta Gamma paddle out when we get home?"

Bradley froze and met Jake's eyes as his cheeks started turning pink. "Hangman," he grunted, and his wife spun to face Jake with a coy smile.

"Hi, Jake," she sang as she reached for her husband's hand. "See you on Saturday night."

It was hard to still feel jealous of what they had when Jake knew what was waiting for him a few floors up. He took off toward the elevators, and then he walked as quickly as he physically could to Jessica's office. Two taps on her door, and she was pulling it open for him. He did the briefest glance around the room to make sure she was alone before he closed the door and backed her up against it.

"Are you trying to send me to an early grave?" he whispered, his voice sounding a little harsh as he smiled softly at her. But his smile vanished immediately when he felt her hand run slowly across his thigh before she cupped his length through his khakis.

"I just thought I'd keep you entertained while you were at work." She gave him a little squeeze, and Jake bucked against her hand. He glanced down to see that her soft sweater was the same purple color as her underwear, and she had on a little black skirt and black heels. He kissed her forehead and then her nose as he grabbed her ass with one hand and pushed her hair back behind her ear with the other.

"You kept me hard while I was at work. That's what you did, Professor Reed." Jake wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and kissed along her jaw softly. She gasped as he used his other hand to slowly bunch her skirt up until he could feel the round of her bare ass cheek in his hand.

"Jake," she whined, making it sound like three syllables instead of one as her hands slid up and around his neck. He kept his hand on her neck gentle and his kisses light as he grabbed her ass and slipped his fingers inside the back of her thong. "Jake!"

Her hands were grasping at his hair as he kissed her ear and rubbed his erection against her sweet body. "You're gorgeous. You drove me crazy all day. You know that? You did it on purpose?"

"Yes," she gasped as he sucked gently on her neck before soothing the spot with his tongue.

"Mmm," he hummed quietly as he panted. "You gonna let me see that pretty purple set?"

Her voice was an obscene whine that left him grinding against her harder as she moaned, "Yes!"

And he couldn't help himself as he pressed the softest kisses along her jaw and ear and asked, "You gonna let me fuck you hard on your desk?"

Jessica's eyes were wide, and her glasses had gone crooked on her face, but he kissed her lips after she said, "Yes." Her hand reached out to press the lock on her door, and then Jake carried her to her desk and set her on the edge. Her eyes already looked blissed out as she spread her thighs wide and hooked both of her feet around his calves, pulling him closer.

He tipped her chin up so she was looking at him, and then he took both of her soft thighs in his hands as she kept eye contact. "I'm crazy about you," he murmured as he pressed himself against her core. Then she pulled her sweater up and over her head before tossing it to the floor. Now her glasses were really crooked, and her hair was a mess as she reached for the fly of his pants. Jake was lost to the feel of her hand gripping his length as she pushed his pants down. Then she released him and leaned back on both of her palms with her lace covered tits thrust alluringly toward him.

"Fuck me," she commanded in her teaching voice. "Fuck me hard on my desk."

"Jesus Christ," he cursed, guiding his hands up her thighs, pushing the fabric up until that little skit was around her waist. When he tugged her damp thong to the side, he was treated to the sight of her wet pussy all ready to go. She ran her high heels up and down his thighs until he grabbed her behind the knees and thrust himself deep.

Jessica's jaw dropped open as Jake held her legs in his hands and fucked her hard, his thrusts relentless as she started to whine. He gritted his teeth, the obscene slapping sounds of his body meeting hers filling the room as he watched her pussy take him. Her tits were bouncing beautifully each time he filled her, and she just kept getting louder.

"Someone's gonna hear you," he warned, his voice a growl as he braced his feet a little wider apart on the floor. "Someone's gonna come knocking if you're not quieter, Jess."

She pressed her lips together and whimpered loudly in response as he continued to fuck her, rocking his hips into her body, his balls slapping her ass. Maybe he just didn't give a fuck if someone heard. Maybe Jake didn't care who knew that he was getting Jessica off on her desk right now. This was his girl, and she was a professional teaser. Even the way she was gripping him so tight with each stroke was too much. Her body was made for him, the way she responded to him like this.

"Jake," she keened, extending the syllables once more as he ran his hand down her calf and lifted her leg so he could kiss her ankle. The shift in position had her squeezing around him while she eased herself onto her back. Jake watched her lace covered tits bounce as her hands grappled for something to grab onto. She held the edge of her desk as she came undone for him. A few more sharp thrusts, and Jake pushed himself deep, filling her up with his cum. And once again, when he withdrew himself, he got to watch the mess he made drip down her ass only to collect on her thong before dripping to the desk.

When Jake looked up along her body, Jessica had herself propped up on her elbows with a serene smile and crooked glasses. He leaned down over her and kissed her. "I got a little carried away," he whispered as he ran his fingers through her hair and squeezed her thigh.

She looked impossibly sweet as he fixed her glasses, and she said, "I plan on getting carried away with you tomorrow night when you sleepover."

He devoured her mouth, but the kisses turned lazy and unhurried. Eventually Jake helped her sit up again on the edge of her desk, and he took in the sight of her rucked up skirt, purple bra and his cum between her thighs. "Let's get you cleaned up, and I'll take you to Chippy's."

"Sex on my desk and Chippy's? Today just keeps getting better," she said with a laugh as Jake grabbed some tissues from her shelf and wiped up her desk and picked up her sweater. Once she was in his arms, he pulled her shirt over her head and helped her wiggle her skirt back down.

When he zipped up his pants, he told her, "Why don't you grab a journal or two to take with us? We can read it together over some Sam Adams and peanuts."

Jessica's eyes lit up, and she actually clapped her hands. It was the cutest fucking thing he had ever seen in his life, and he watched as she clicked across her floor on her heels to the shelf. "I love that," she murmured. "Great idea, Jake."

He loved it, too. He loved everything about her. She was so smart and beautiful, but she was funny, too. She wasn't clingy, and she had a fascinating career. She didn't need him around, but she seemed to light up when he was, and that's what left Jake a little breathless as she turned and looked at him with two journals in her hand. "You ready?"

Jake kissed the slight bruise he left on her neck on the ride down the elevator. When the doors opened, Brian Conley was there arguing with a young woman, and he felt Jessica tense up in his arms. "It's okay," Jake murmured against her hair. Even though her posture remained a little rigid, she let him take her by the hand and walk out into the lobby, and Jake absorbed the glare that Brian shot their way so Jessica didn't have to.

He'd had just about enough of that asshole, and the next time he witnessed Brian being a dick or if he heard his girlfriend complain about him again, Jake was probably going to lose it. But as soon as they were inside the dive bar, Jake noticed that her shoulders seemed less tense, and she smiled as soon as Chippy waved to her.

"Hey, Reedy."

"Hi, Chippy."

He started pouring two pints as he shot Jake the look of warning that he'd become accustomed to; it was almost a part of the experience now. But the bar was absolutely packed tonight, and Jessica held his hand a little tighter as she stepped around peanut shells on the sticky floor. There was only one high top table free with only one stool at it.

Jake kissed Jessica's cheek and nudged her in that direction. "Grab the table while I get the beer and peanuts?" She took off in that direction, and Jake headed for the bar.

"So. You're here to stay then?" a disgruntled Chippy asked as he shoved a bowl of peanuts next to the pint glasses.

Jake tried to reel in his surprised laugh. "Yes, sir. I'm not going anywhere."

Chippy grunted as he took the twenty dollar bill from Jake and made change for him. He slid the bills across the bar but kept his hand on them. "If I so much as see you with another woman or see tears in that girl's eyes," he said, nodding toward Jessica, "you'll never see the inside of this bar again."

Jake waited for him to pick up his hand, and then he took all of the bills except for a few singles. "Understood." Then he could tell he'd been dismissed when Chippy started waiting on the group next to him, so he took everything back to the table where Jessica was perched on the stool.

"Literally all of the seats are being used," she told him, but Jake set everything down and then pulled her into his arms.

"Just means I get to hold you, then." He sat and then helped her onto his lap, and she settled on his thigh while he kissed her cheek and the side of her neck. "This is perfect."

Her cheeks were a little flushed, and Jake could smell himself on her as he wrapped his arm around her, letting his hand settle on her hip. This gorgeous woman was wearing panties soaked with his cum and calmly opening one of the physics journals to share an article with him. "Oh, you'll like this one," she told him, smiling over her shoulder before pointing out the title on the page. She thought he was smart, and she seemed to like having him around outside of bedroom activities, too.

"I'm sure I will," he replied, kissing her shoulder as he listened to her tell him about jet propulsion in a newly designed aircraft.

------------------------

Intelligent, self aware Jake is ruining me a little bit. Brian is a dank ass little bitch. Please send asks if you'd like to see a certain type of lingerie in her closet. Frat fundraiser is up next. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 12

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mia-ugly · 9 months

Text

In honour of Good Omens Season 2

HAVE A SLOW SHOW FICLET with thanks to @weatheredlaw for the amazing graphic ❤️❤️❤️ how we doing fam

It’s a kid on set that first tells him.

Not really a kid, but anyone less than thirty seems a kid to him these days (ugh, that’s a loathsome thought.) Jiyana’s a queer and pink-haired punk type, rainbow pin on their jacket, trans-pride flag tattooed on their inner wrist. The first time he met them, the whole wirey confident glittery thing made his gut clench with - what was it - joy and gratitude but also envy? Maybe? (because what must it be like to be that young and that certain of yourself? What must it be like to have the whole world open in front of you? Not that there still isn’t a lot of shit to deal with, and in Merry Old fucking England there is More Shit than Otherwise, but. Still. It’s something Crowley thinks about. Sometimes. When he hasn’t had enough sleep or when he’s had too much of it.)

The kid came up to him Day One to mumble about “being a big fan” and once they wore a Warlock t-shirt to an afterparty (“Vintage!” they said cheerily, and Crowley wanted to swallow his own face at the thought of something from the 2010s being considered vintage, good Christ.)

Anyway, Jiyana tells him first.

“Congrats on the new season!” They’re beside him in the makeup trailer. Crowley doesn’t realise they’re talking to him, assumes they’re wearing AirPods or something, until George gives him a nudge with the powder puff.

“Er, yeah, cheers.” It’s too early to talk to anyone this perky. Then his exhausted, coffee-less brain takes a moment to catch up with his exhausted, coffee-less mouth. “Er, wait, what?”

“Warlock. Heard it’s coming back. Did I tell you I wrote a paper on it in, like, Grade 10? So cool, the GSA at my highschool used to have watch parties, I can’t wait to see what they do with your -“

“Wait -“ Warlock? It’s been bloody years. “Where’d you hear this?”

The kid starts to list off some sites or social media whatsits that Crowley has never heard of, so he just nods and pretends to understand, the same way he does when Az’s niece tries to explain some show called “Jojo’s Big Adventure” or something. Validate, validate, empathise. Just like Pepper taught him.

It’s probably nothing right? A rumour.

But it’s a rumour Az has heard too.

When Crowley gets home that night (they’ve rented a house in Buckinghamshire, even though the studio’s not two hours from their cottage) Az is on him immediately. Heard about it from his sister apparently, who got the news from one of the kids.

“Isn’t that exciting?” His face is all lit up and his hair is wet, bathrobe snugly belted around his waist. The house has an indoor pool, and there are little indents on Avery’s nose where his extremely attractive and sexy swimming-goggles must have been resting.

Crowley presses his lips to each mark.

“Not that we’ve been going hungry or wanting for work –” Az continues.

“You work too bloody much,” Crowley murmurs into his cheekbone.

“But I do love those characters. The whole thing wrapped up so nicely though – what more is there to tell? I wonder what the arc could possibly be.”

“I wonder what you’ve got on under this robe –”

“Anthony!” Az laughs in fake protest, tilting his head back so that Crowley can get his mouth on his throat. Yeah, that’s the ticket. Az tastes like chlorine, and maybe Crowley should join him in the shower after this. After a day in the studio, he could probably use it.

“Would you really want to do a series again?” Crowley asks after he’s finally let his husband go, turned to hang up his coat and thrown his bag on the nearest chair. “Awful lot of commitment. And you’ve that whole run at the Globe coming up, don’t rehearsals start in the spring?”

“We’ll have to see if Helen can mind the goats again while we’re in London.” Az has wandered into the kitchen, turned on the kettle. Crowley looks at the back of his neck (Crowley always looks at the back of his neck. Sometimes he dreams about it.) “If she’s free. I called her this morning to check in, Elmyra’s eating, so her anxiety must be getting better.”

“Cool, yeah,” Crowley says, casual and nonchalant and no big deal. As if Elmyra isn’t his favourite of the bunch and he doesn’t have a song that he made up and no one knows that he sings just to her. As if he didn’t hand feed her all night once because she wasn’t sleeping or eating and neither was he because he was so afraid this tiny rescue goat was going to starve to death, anyway whatever, super cool, who cares. “Is it weird that no one’s reached out to us, though? Do you think?”

“About the goats? Helen has my number –”

“No love, the Warlock thing.”

Az blinks at him, flutters his pretty blond lashes in an attractive, aggrieved sort of way. “You mean you haven’t heard from Beez?”

“I haven’t heard from anyone.”

“Oh.” Az thinks it over. “Well. Neither have I, actually. Do you – is that odd?”

“Maybe they’ve recast us with younger models.”

“They wouldn’t dare.”

“Gotta up the sex appeal of the whole thing. Jawlines. Cheekbones. Sexy results.”

“I –” Az goes a bit pink. Glances at Crowley and then away. “Fail to see how they could improve upon perfection.”

Crowley looks at his husband’s bathrobe and the slight scattering of silver chest hair and his hand on his tea cup and fuck off, his neck. His neck, his neck, who gives a shit about Warlock actually?

“Come over here and say that to my mouth.”

Avery smiles, and sighs, and he does.

ONE YEAR LATER:

Crowley opens the email from Beez.

He fuckin' closes it.

#a slow dumb show for you #slow show #good omens fanfic #fic what i wrote #good omens

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multifandomimagines999 · 1 year

Note

May I get mark sloan x reader please? Like reader has been on call for like three days straight and is super exhausted. And while charting, reader falls asleep standing up and Mark props them up and takes them to an on call room and makes sure they get some rest ? Thank you so much !

Exhaustion, Mark Sloan x reader

Summary: An exhausted reader collapsed and her boyfriend comes to her rescue...then it all makes sense

Warnings: Fluff, Exhaustion, overworking, throwing up

Note: I tweaked it a bit @theichabbieclub but I hope you still like it! I'm just getting back into this.

"You look like crap," commented Alex as we walked down the hallway.

"Oh thanks. I feel like it too," you admitted, "I've been working a double because we're short staffed on the peds floor as you know. So I've been bouncing around non-stop. I'm exhausted."

"And crabby. Clearly you haven't been able to screw your secret boyfriend too."

"Shut it Karev!" you growled, slapping him in the arm, "I am never going to tell you who it is if you keep making comments like that."

"Fine," he grumbled, "I've gotta get to the Nic-U. What have they got you covering today?"

"I've got a marathon surgery with Robbins, Shepherd, and Sloan on a 6 year old girl with a facial tumor."

"Damn that's rad. Good luck."

"Thanks."

You went into the surgery with a clear head, ready to save this little girl's life. We began and about two hours into it, Mark showed up to help work on the facial reconstruction and repair. His portion of the surgery took about three to four hours.

"Alright...I'm done here. She's all yours to finish up with."

"Take my tool," you whispered to Avery, suddenly not feeling well.

"Why?"

"Just do it!"

He took it and then immediately everything went black.

3rd POV

"Dr. (Y/L/N)!" yelled Robbins as her resident's body hit the floor.

"That's why she handed me her tool," Jackson realized.

"Can someone please check on them please?" asked Arizona as she continued working.

"I got it!" Mark announced before rushing over to her side.

Their relationship was still a secret, so he tried his best to hide his romantic concern in the moment. He scooped her up as carried her out of the OR to an empty gurney. He took her to a private room and began examining her.

--------

You woke up to a flashlight shining in your eyes and a hand on your forehead. As the darkness disappeared, you saw that the flashlight belonged to Mark. You groaned as your head pulsed with pain.

"What happened?" you asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"You might want to tell me... You passed out in the OR. I hooked you up to an IV because from the looks of it you're severely dehydrated."

"Mark I-" you were interrupted by a horrible feeling in your gut.

You jerked up, reaching for the bucket before puking. When you were done emptying you stomach, you collapsed back on the bed. You suddenly felt sweaty with hair plastered against your forehead.

"Dr. Sloan, I may know what's wrong?" Karev jogged in, out of breath, "I heard the news about (Y/F/N). Three of the peds kids just came down with the flu. All three kids were your patients that you've been dealing with during this double shift. And with you being so overworked, your immune system was weaker, so combined with the dehydration, you got sick."

"Well shit."

"Looks like I have my diagnoses," Mark replied, and you just glared at him.

"I hate you right now."

"I know."

"Wait a minute?" Karev questioned, stepping in the room and shutting the door, "Sloan's your secret boyfriend?!"

"You tell anybody, I will kill you. You understand me Alex? I will make sure every girl in this hospital knows what a man whore you are and you will never get laid again. Got it?"

"Yeah yeah, calm your panties. I'll let Bailey know you're so sick with the flu that you can't drive and that I asked Dr. Sloan to take care of you since he's already been exposed. Okay?"

"Thank you Alex."

"Yeah whatever."

***

You laid on the couch with Mark, all cuddled up in sweats and his shirt. While you were hot to the touch, you yourself were feeling cold. Your body ached and your head was still throbbing. You rested your head in his lap while he played with your hair soothingly.

"How are you feeling babe?" he asked, looking down at you.

"Like shit," you admitted, making him chuckle.

"Well you still look cute if that makes you feel any better."

"A little."

"Mark please. You shouldn't see me like this. We've only been together for three months."

"(Y/F/N), we slept together before we started dating and on the first date we talked about our deep dark issues. I think it's okay if I see you with the flu. Now let me please be there for you."

"Fair point."

Anytime you felt you were going to be sick, he was there, holding your hair back and assuring you soothingly. Anything he could do to help you, he wanted to.

Mark held your hair back as another round came up. God this was hell. Physical and emotional hell. When he walked out to go grab something, you laid down on the cool tile. He came back in with a water bottle and some crackers along with a smile.

"What? The tile is nice and cold."

He helped pull you up so you were sitting up against the cabinets, "You know you need to drink to re-hydrate. And these crackers might help."

Your hair was a mess as he brushed it out and sat beside you. He rubbed your back lovingly until your eyes felt heavy and all you wanted to do was sleep.

"Alright. Lets get you to bed," he spoke, sweeping you into his arms.

He placed you into bed and disappeared before coming back with a fresh garbage can. After placing it beside the bed, he climbed in next to you.

"Mark, you don't have to stay with me. You could get sick and-"

"I'm not leaving unless you need me to get something."

"What about work?"

"I'll call in. You're more important."

A smile crossed your face as you rolled over, resting your head on his chest. His arm snaked around you, one around your waist and the other stroked your hair. Finally, you were feeling a little bit better.

"Try to sleep. I'll still be here."

"Thank you," you mumbled sleepily, "I love you."

"I love you too."

#greys anatomy x reader #mark sloan #mark sloan x reader #mark sloan fluff #greys anatomy imagines

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jjwantsme · 1 year

Text

It’s Christmas, Charlie Brown!

j.m

pairing: jj maybank x girlfriend!reader

summary: after years of neglection, christmas was never an excitement in JJ’s life- that is, until he met y/n

warning: kind of grumpy boyfriend x sunshine girlfriend trope, fluff, mentions of abusive family, cussing, references to smut, let me know if there’s anything missing!

authors note: i couldn’t sleep at 6am and came up with this. Time for a holiday special!!! Sorry im over a week late 😭😭

masterlist

JJ groaned a bit as he felt his shoulder being shaken, still half asleep as he listened to his girlfriend’s bubbly voice.

“JJ, wake up, wake up, it’s christmas!” Y/n cheered, excitement radiating off her flushed face.

“baby, baby,” JJ rasped, “it’s 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 christmas. Don’t cream your pants over it.”

“‘Just Christmas’?!” She gasped dramatically, pretending to be overly offended- which, wasn’t too far from the truth. “now, come on, get up so we can make breakfast!”

JJ couldn’t really relate to her excitement.

Unlike his loving girlfriend, he grew up in a broken home.

Growing up with an abusive father, and an absentee mother, JJ never really got to have Christmas. His father never held them by the fire or watched movies with him; he received a present once, but it was taken shortly after on account of bad behavior.

So, because of him never getting to experience all of the christmas magic, it was never a big deal to him. In his book, it was just any old day.

And, normally, that would be a deal breaker for y/n. However, seeing as JJ is perfect for her in every other aspect, she let it slide this time.

She’d just have to make-up for all of the christmas he’s missed.

“Breakfast?” JJ sat up and groaned, “I thought your parents would be doing that!”

“Well, yeah…but, I asked if we could do it,” y/n grinned, clearly not understanding his exhaustion, “It’s part of the fun!”

She began putting bottoms over her bare legs, still half-naked from when JJ undressed her the night before.

JJ couldn’t help but let out a small smile at her excitement, looking over all the hickeys on her stomach.

Boy, was he in for a long holiday.

“Oh, JJ! This is for you,” Mrs. y/l/n chirped as she handed JJ a gift, “from me and y/n’s father!”

Y/n had definitely received her positive attitude from her mother.

“Oh, shit, y-you guys really didn’t have to get me anything,” JJ chuckled and shook his head, rubbing his neck as he grabbed the present.

“Of course we did!”

JJ smiled wide as he opened the gift, feeling like a little kid again as y/n sat right next to him.

He wasn’t used to any parents loving him the way y/n’s did, it was definitely still something to get used to.

Her parents absolutely adored him, always inviting him over for meals and letting him spend the night

When they first met, JJ thought for sure they’d despise him, the same way most parents do. He thought they’d say he’s a bad influence on their daughter, and that he’s no good just like his dad.

But, they never said that. They took him in with open arms.

JJ opened the gift slowly, his smile growing when he opened the box to reveal a ring.

A ring with the letter “J” imprinted onto it.

“Do you like it?” Y/n smiled up at him with her innocent voice.

“I love it!” He was so happy, he almost laughed, “Thank you guys, so much!”

He gave her parents quick hugs.

“Now open mine, open mine!” Y/n couldn’t contain her excitement, and anticipation, as she handed him the gift she picked out.

He opened hers much more quickly, and he swore his cheeks were going to break from smiling too hard when he saw it. A necklace with her first initial on it.

“Do you like it? Look, I got us matching ones!” She pulled hers out of her hoodie pocket, (the same hoodie she stole from JJ), and showed it to him.

It had a J on it, and he blushed so hard that he saw stars. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were hearts in his eyes.

“Oh my god, baby,” JJ kissed her head, and then her cheek, and then her lips. “I absolutely adore it.”

Y/n couldn’t help the giddy tears that welled up in her eyes as she watched him put it on with so much pride.

“I’ll never take it off!”

“Who’s idea was it to invite them over? Like, seriously, who let John B in?” Kiara jokingly asked as she watched him and pope nearly break y/n’s family vase.

“Ha-ha, very funny, kie.” Pope sarcastically replied, taking his seat at the dinning table.

After everyone’s parents approval, y/n had invited all of the pogues over for christmas dinner at her place. Her mother made a five-course-meal for them, and let them have sparkling water to drink.

Y/n was pretty close with the pogues, especially sarah, as she grew up a kook. Well, nobody really called her a kook. She had a foot in both worlds; her parents were filthy rich, but she never acted snobby or better than anyone. She didn’t fit in with the other kooks, which is why she was more of a lone-wolf- that is, until she met the pogues.

“Oh, it’s fine!” Y/n’s mom insisted as she took her seat, “We can afford a new one, no worries!”

“Thank you, Mrs. y/l/n, this all looks amazing,” Pope nervously changed the conversation topic as he examined the meal, already having his heart set on the glazed ham.

“Hey, princess,” JJ spoke quietly to y/n as everyone else engaged in their own conversation, “can i talk to you in the other room for a moment?”

Y/n bit her lip, which was an anxiety-motivated habit, before nodding.

“We’ll be right back!” JJ smiled at everyone, taking his girl’s hand and leading her to the living room.

“What is it?” Y/n asked once they were alone, watching as JJ took a present from under the tree.

“Just wanted to give you your present…” he trailed off, handing a wrapped, book-shaped item to her.

“Awh, baby,” she pouted as she took it from him, “you know you didn’t have to get me anything!”

“What, you really thought i wouldn’t get you a present? On your favorite holiday?” He raised his eyebrows, “Jeez, i’m not that poor.”

Y/n unwrapped the gift, letting out a small gasp when she saw what it was.

A scrapbook of their relationship thus far, with polaroids of them from the very beginning.

JJ grew nervous when he saw how silent she was, her usually being his little chatterbox.

Most people probably found it annoying how talkative she was, but he thought it was just the most precious thing.

“Do you not like it? I’m sorry if it’s not…i don’t know, fancy enough? I was on a budget, i thought it was cute, but i completely understand if you don’t like it, it is kind of cor-“

Y/n cut him off by kissing him, passionately, as she rested a hand on his shoulder.

She pulled away after almost a minute, looking him in the eyes.

“Is that your way of telling me you would’ve liked a more sexual gift? Cause, y’know i have no problem getting you a-“

“JJ!” She spoke sharply as she cut him off, trying not to laugh, “I love it, you dumbass!”

“Really?” JJ’s face went from a smirk to a soft smile as she spoke.

“Of course, I do! I’ve never gotten anything this thoughtful. Thank you so much. I’ll read every single page.” She grinned and hugged him tight, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He smiled wide and hugged her back, just as tight.

He was so nervous about the gift, only having a few dollars to spend.

But, her reaction made him proud of himself, and happier than words can explain.

“So…about that sex toy-“

“JJ!”

“I really can’t believe you’ve never seen this before,” Y/n and JJ cuddled on her bed, watching a charlie brown christmas special. “It’s a classic!”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” He shrugged in reply.

Y/n giggled at his remark, making him smile.

“Y/n, I actually, uh, I wanted to…talk to you about something.” JJ rubbed the back of his neck, making her pause the movie.

“What is it, baby?”

“I just…” he sighed, “I wanted to say thank you.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, “Thank you? For what?”

“I don’t know, I guess just…being with me. Y’know, letting me be yours. I know we’ve only been dating 10 months, but…you really are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I really can’t thank you, or your family, enough for everything you’ve done.” JJ shook his head and sniffled, “I don’t deserve it.”

“Awh, my love,” y/n pouted and sat up to cup his cheeks, “of course you deserve it. You deserve more, actually. I love you so much, and I just know there’s many more christmas’ like this to come.”

He rested his forehead against hers and whispered, “I love you more, beautiful.”

Y/n finished their conversation with a kiss, a kiss that didn’t end until JJ moved his hands up her shirt and began kissing her neck.

“Gonna show you how much I love you,” He mumbled against her neck as he nibbled on it.

Let’s just say; what they did that night, definitely would’ve gotten them on the naughty list.

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dvzaiosamu · 2 months

Text

Neko Lyney.

neko lyney x fem.reader. Topic: you basically rub Lyney's ears and play with his tail, whatever... You just treat him like a kitty.

hope you guys enjoy! I made this 'cause I saw some fanarts on pinterest about him as a catboy, and I couldn't help to make a short oneshot about him!

Magic, applause, curtain closing, a show at the top! The perfect combination that every magician wants to have in their shows. Lyney, young and playful magician with some feline characteristics. Cat ears, a feline tail, and personality traits, like: he liked to sleep more in the mornings than at nights.

It was not surprising that in Teyvat there were people with different feline characteristics, like his sister: Lynette.

After an arduous day full of quests and problems, your energy was depleted to the point that you couldn't last long without feeling exhausted. You walked home, to your warm home in Fontaine, where you suddenly remembered a very important detail,

"I forgot I left the spare keys of my house in a easy spot to find, shit... I hope no one finds them and breaks in," you though, with some uncertainty.

Suddenly you speed up your pace towards your house and go up a long ramp until you reach your door. You reach into your pocket for your keys and insert them into the sockets, twisting it to open it. You push the door and enter, slowly. You close the door behind you and feel a presence, but you weren't sure who it might belong to.

You decide to gently leave your adventurer's equipment on the furniture in the entryway. You went up the stairs with a silent and cunning step like that of a feline. As soon as you got up, you walked into your room with a yawn, and that was when you closed the door behind you and a familiar voice echoed,

"Hello again, spectator!" He joyfully utters what you turn around, startled and confused. “It's a joy to see you arrive! I thought the sun outside was enough to illuminate the room, but I see that now that another star has set foot here, I find myself captivated by how radiant you look today."

"Why did you sneak into my room out of nowhere, Lyney?" you ask him and his tail just wags to the sides in a relaxed and gentle manner, smiling.

"A good magician never reveals his tricks!" he pauses dramatically to take a step towards you. "I guess I can make an exception for you... Since it's not a big deal."

You remain silent, looking at him, waiting for his answer even if it was very obvious, but for some reason you wanted to hear it said, confessed and explained in depth. You cross your arms and generate a feeling of authority in yourself.

Lyney's ear flicks. "You see... Today I had gone to your house to visit you, but when I saw that you were gone, I remembered that you normally leave a spare key outside your house, and it seemed to be the case that you left them in a very bad place... To prevent intruders from entering, I kindly offered to take the keys and go inside to look for you, but not seeing you, I was too lazy to go out and stayed inside."

"You are definitely not an intruder..." you tell him sarcastically, rolling your eyes with a playful smile.

"But don't be mean, you won't throw me out of your house, right?"

"Be aware that you are breaking a law, more specifically, article 202: Whoever, without living there, enters another's house or remains there against the will of its resident, will be punished with a prison sentence of 6 months to 2 years," you tell him, your tone firm, but maintaining a playful tone.

"Well, well... You have decided to become interested in human rights, right?" A sly grin appears on his lips. "I don't think you're stone-hearted enough to shove away a poor abandoned kitten..."

"Now that you're here, no... I won't kick you out, nor report you. You're lucky to be close to me."

"Well... Thank goodness you're not as bad a person as they say." As if it were his home, he avoids you and walks, sitting on your bed crossing his legs. Seeing your annoyed expression, he raises his hands in defeat. "Just kidding."

"You better be," you snort.

Walking towards him, you take a place on your bed, and lie down on one side, your head resting on the pillow and the rays of sunlight coming from the sun pass through your window gracefully and prostrate themselves on your figure. Today was a hard morning, but it's the only thing you could do. Your priority now was to rest.

An unusual silence forms in the environment with the singing of birds muffled by the closed windows. You try to close your eyes, to have a proper rest even though Lyney is still doing his thing. In a flash, the young boy does not hesitate to play a joke and approaches you, hesitating for a few seconds whether to do what he intended to do. He sits next to you, his body in contact with yours. A light breath coming from him, but his heart racing slightly. His tail lands on your face, just to bother you and take away the feeling that you were going to rest.

"Lyney... What are you doing? Let me rest," you say as you sit on the spot, you lightly rub your eyes and look at him, he just responds with a smile.

"You already know that cats have healing effects. That's why I'm committed to helping you relax," Lyney explains to you, one of his ears flicking before, without even giving you time, he places his head on your chest, his weight making you lay down again. "You know what to do, right?"

"Are you saying you want me to pet you?" you ask, and Lyney nods, even though he knows he'll probably fall asleep before you.

One of your hands goes to his head and you gently begin to caress him. A small, silent but adorable feline sound is heard as a sign of having received the sensation. While you caress him, Lyney tries not to make the moment uncomfortable with the occasional pleasant sound, and only limits himself to purring and warming you with his body.

You had forgotten for a moment that cats usually have sensitive areas, and that is why you decide to change the area and start massaging behind the ears. His ears slowly lowering, giving you more access to pet him without having to move your hand much.

You hear how the purrs intensify and your body feels cushioned, you can't help but smile and let out a light giggle, but you don't realize that your partner had already fallen asleep.

Your eyelids feel heavy and you close them, your hand resting on his head. You weren't expecting to fall asleep so quickly, but when you added his purrs and the fact that he was already exhausted, it made more sense.

A smile curls on Lyney's lips.

This one was quite rushed... Even so, I hope it was not too cringe to read ≽^•⩊•^≼

#lyney #genshin impact #genshin x reader #lyney x reader

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mermaidgirl30 · 4 months

Text

Part 1 is out! Hope you lovelies enjoy! A03

Masterlist

- Pairing: Joel x fem! Reader, Joel x You

- Rating: Explicit (18+)

- Words: 4.9k

- Tags: No outbreak, protective Joel, angst, fingering, oral, cream pie, abusive dance partner, tension, longing, porn with plot, smut, dom! Joel (reader mid 20’s, Joel in his early 40’s)

- Summary: You’re starring in the ballet Swan Lake, taking on the lead role in New York. You practice day and night and are always staying after hours. You keep seeing Joel around the theater, the hot maintenance worker you can’t keep your eyes off of. You aren’t the only one though because you think he’s watching you too.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

It was the middle of October in New York. Breezy and chilly as the days started getting colder. You spent most of your days tirelessly training at the David H. Koch Theater, slaving away to your art which was ballet.

You had just landed the biggest role of your career. You were picked to play the lead in Swan Lake and would dance as the swan queen. You still couldn’t believe it. After all those hard, grueling years of practice, you had finally done something right.

You had just graduated from Julliard, working extremely hard for this day. You swear you’d never get it. You always were too hard on yourself, needing to be absolutely perfect. Needing to keep every turn, every leap, every movement sharp. Make it look like it was effortless. That’s how you’d get someone to pay attention to you. See how hard you were working to get a lead role in a huge dance production.

Of course the position came with its downsides. You always had someone hounding you about watching what you ate. Telling you that you had to stay extra hours to get that one dance move perfect. Having to put up with bullshit from strict instructors. Having girls always talk bad about you behind your back because they were jealous they weren’t in the number one spot. Having to deal with grimy men that wanted to get in your pants just to say they scored big with the top girl.

It was brutal some days, but you put up with it because that’s the price you had to pay to do what you loved. And that was dance.

You spent the whole first week of training touring the grand theater and learning your dance pieces on the massive hardwood theater stage. Learning all your place markers, where you’d enter and exit, where you’d change your wardrobe, and so the list went on. It was a lot to take in as you had never done anything this big before, nonetheless perform in an immense theater as this. It was all overwhelming to say the least.

You always showed up on time, always made sure you looked the part. Never leaving the apartment without your makeup or hair done, making sure your pointe shoes stayed spotless and shiny. You were a professional now so you had to act like one.

As much as you loved ballet and being in the spotlight, you didn’t realize what all really went down behind the scenes. You had to deal with a lot of shit on the daily. Get yelled at constantly, have a smile on your face even when you didn’t have the heart to, deal with vicious dancers, see just how far some of those girls would go with higher ups just to have a chance at getting a lead role. It was all exhausting. You hated the drama, so you always did your best to tune it out and just focus on your dancing.

There was one good thing that came with this territory though. The first week something had caught your eye. Not something, someone.

You had been rehearsing a dance routine for the white swan, and one of the stage lights had gone out while you were in the middle of your performance. Your strict instructor had yelled for someone to come help fix the damn light. She had been angry, upset that her time was getting wasted on mundane things. It didn’t take long for someone to come along and enter the auditorium. And that’s when you saw him for the first time.

He was all muscle, wearing a tight green flannel shirt that clung to his bulging biceps. His shoulders were broad and he was tall, standing a little over 6 feet. He wore light blue jeans and brown worker boots. His hair was slightly messy as he pushed it back. Dark brown hair that was sprinkled with grey and a trimmed beard that showed silver patches.

He looked to be in his 40’s which was intriguing. And he was handsome, a brooding sense about him that could entice you to linger your gaze just a little too long. He had intense dark eyes. Eyes you would be okay with staring into. A walking dreamboat.

And his arms.

God, his arms.

His sleeves were pulled up to his elbows, exposing thick veiny arms. And his hands. His hands were big and strong, veins spiraling over long, thick fingers. It was hot. And then your mind wondered to dark places.

He could probably do a lot with those hands. Those rough, sturdy hands…

You caught yourself staring as he was walking up the wooden stage steps, eyes finding yours as they locked on you for a few seconds. Your heart was in your throat as you stared at the gorgeous man, wanting to feel just how soft his hair was, wanting to know what it’d be like to run your fingers through those thick tousled curls…

He was walking past you now, just trying to do his job and head to the light fixture that needed fixing. He gently brushed past your shoulder as he walked by. You felt the spark of electricity instantly as his touch lingered for a few seconds, the scent of mahogany and spice encasing the air.

You turned around to get one more glance at the handsome stranger, but then you caught him looking back at you too. His brown eyes flicked over you curiously, his eyebrow slightly raised, then he was turning back around, heading for his task at hand. Your instructor yelled at you to focus, and your mind went back to what you were supposed to be doing.

And that was the first day you saw the maintenance man. The day that you developed a hyperfixation for men that wore plaid shirts and had untamed hair. The day that would ruin you for good.

The weekend went by fast as Monday rolled back around. That meant a full week of training. More overtime to be spent in the theater. You didn’t want to know what sort of drama awaited you, but you pulled yourself together and got ready for the day anyways.

When you finished putting your hair up and finished your makeup, you headed out the door and said goodbye to your comfy bed. You just knew you’d be back late. You always were.

The theater was quiet today, aside from the stage manager Timothy and your instructor Carlotta bickering back and forth. Carlotta was an old, big shot ballet dancer that had toured the entire world. She was the most dramatic and strict instructor you had ever had. Every single thing you did she nitpicked. You just took it because she was only trying to make you a better dancer.

Carlotta was tall, too slim, barely ever eating anything that wasn’t green. She’d always yell at you if she caught you eating anything that was greasy or unhealthy. It was a real pain, but you learned not to eat around her anymore.

She’d always wear her auburn hair in tight buns and dress in fancy clothes that were name brand and custom made. She was a diva, a real piece of work. She had a thick Russian accent and always rolled her r’s.

She always had dark red lipstick caked on her thin lips and long eyelashes that could surely poke an eye out. Her heels were always at least four inches tall, and she acted like she was the most important thing in every room she walked in. Her confidence was set high, and she never doubted herself.

You remember the first day she saw you in the audition for Swan Lake. She called you a beauty and said your long legs were a godsend. She pulled you aside and called you a diamond in the rough and was positive that you’d get the lead. She was right. You had to thank her for her confidence in you. All she said was, “We have work to do,” when you got the part.

“Timothy, I do not have time for this today. You tell them to have my props ready by tomorrow or someone is getting fired!” she screamed as she raised her arms and pointed for Timothy to exit the room.

He shook his head and agreed to get them done by the next day, then took his leave as he slammed the side exit door, leaving an echo across the vast stage.

She glared at you and pointed to your feet that weren’t yet in pointe shoes. “Shoes, now! You’re late,” she spit as she had a deep frown on her red lipstick face.

“But I’m not…” you said defenseless, but she cut you off.

“Hush, shoes!” She pointed to her expensive Coach watch and clicked the glass with her long, pointed finger.

You were in no place to argue, so you just sighed and found a spot on the polished floor, quickly putting on and lacing up your shoes. You were actually ten minutes early. You weren’t late like she accused.

But whatever.

As soon as you got your shoes on, she demanded that you start from the beginning of Act One. She wanted you to cover all the solo dances for today, and then tomorrow you’d have to dance with your awful partner, Pierre.

God, you couldn’t stand him, but you had to do what you had to do.

Carlotta yelled your name and snapped her fingers, demanding that you hurry up and get in position for the first dance.

“Just a second!” you yelled as you hurriedly rushed to your first starting point, trying to find exactly where you were supposed to stand.

“No, now!” she yelled louder, getting annoyed with you.

You smoothed down your pink skirt and ran a hand over your too tight black leotard, feeling like it was suffocating you.

Carlotta huffed and pointed to your starting point which was a foot from where you were.

Oops.

You heard a few snickers coming from behind the rose red stage curtain. Three bleach blonde ballet dancers whispered to each other back and forth as they looked you up and down, clearly talking about you.

Your hands went to tight fists, and you held back tears that were burning at the backs of your eyes. Why hadn’t anyone been nice to you? This entire time you thought people would be more friendly, more welcoming. Turns out when you’re the star of the show that’s not the case. When you’re the lead everyone is cruel, unfriendly, harsh.

You just wanted one person. One goddamn person to be nice to you. Make you feel like you weren’t an outsider, but that didn’t happen. You just had to suck it up and do what you came here to do. Dance. That’s what you knew and that’s what you’d do. Even though you were dying on the inside from the weight of it all.

The spotlight shined down on you as you blinked and squinted your eyes, trying to get used to what you’d see every night in performances. You took in your surroundings of the theater as you looked around.

The walls were covered with red velvet material, the ceilings done in pastel-colored majestic art. The box seats up high were decked in gold with angel statues surrounding them. The theater was stories high as rows were stacked on top of each other. Crimson, lavish seats sat against the theater floor, along with marble staircases that led to the balcony and upper seats. A colossal, crystallized chandelier hung in the center of the room, giving it that Phantom of the Opera vibe. It really was quite a sight, something you thought you’d never get to yourself.

“Position, now!” Carlotta screamed at you as you jumped from her booming voice. You rolled your shoulders and stood up a little taller, getting in position. The dreamy music sprung to life as you started your routine, focusing on perfect movements, not wanting to be yelled at by every little thing you did.

So far she wasn’t barking at you. She was just observing, watching you, going over every little detail on you. You kept your head up and took to the air as you leaped and turned, pirouetting around the stage, getting dizzy from all the motions.

Before you could finish the routine, she halted the music as silence took over. You stopped mid turn to face her, your jaw clenching as you were afraid of what she’d say.

“Not too bad, but could be more perfected. Go again. From the top,” she commanded as she pointed with her long red fingernails to the starting position.

You internally groaned as you dragged your feet back to the mark she had showed you earlier. You heard more snickering behind the curtain and rolled your eyes, not wanting to deal with them today.

“No rolling your eyes! You’re a professional, professionals never do that in public. Big smile and chin up. Now go again,” she demanded as she crossed her arms and sat down in a crimson theater chair in the front row.

You put on a big fake smile and got in position, waiting for the music to begin again. Once it came to life, so did your body. You pushed yourself to be as perfect as you could, lifting your legs as high as they’d go, making your spins as tight as they could possibly be, raising your arms as gracefully as you could get them.

Carlotta still had things to pick out when you finished, still wanted you to go again. “Better, but let’s go again. This time I want you to jump higher. Point your toes a little harder on your soubresaut.”

You stood there staring at her, trying to catch your breath from the previous routine.

“Well, go on. We don’t have all day.” She flicked her wrists your way as you sighed and went back to the start.

Before you could get back into position, you looked up into one of the dimly lit opera boxes and froze.

It was him. The maintenance man.

Your heart sped up entirely too fast as you focused on keeping your composure calm.

His broad shoulders filled the denim button-up shirt as he held a screwdriver in one hand, the other pressed down on the edge of the opera box, fixing something with the dark wood. His eyes were trained on what he was doing, but he looked up a few seconds later as his dark eyes honed in on you.

You looked down shyly but peered back up at him moments later. Running your thumb against every single finger slowly, trying to calm your nerves as you stood in the presence of the older, attractive man.

You gulped as you looked at his big hands, trying hard not to think about how they’d feel against your skin. Watching the way his rough hands slid across the wood, digging his thick fingers into the screwdriver.

His eyes focused only on you as his hands continued to work. Slidding, turning, digging, flexing his fingers…Making you bite your lower lip in response, almost able to feel that burn against your skin.

Carlotta screamed out your name as you jumped, coming out of your trance. “The routine? Hello?” She was raising her arms in a shrug and pointing at your position on the stage.

“Oh, sorry…guess I got distracted,” you said with an apology, getting into position once again.

Before the music started, you lifted your eyelashes and peeked back up into the left corner discreetly so Carlotta wouldn’t pick up on what was going on. Your eyes gazed back over to the mysterious man in the opera box, wanting one more look before you got back to work.

He looked back down at you as his eyes found yours, carefully watching you as his eyes trailed over your body and back up into your face slowly. You shuttered as you pulled your legs closer together, trying not to get too excited from the eye contact.

Holy shit. You had a crush and you didn’t even know the man. You could see this was going to be a big distraction here. You dropped your gaze once the music sounded again, repeating the routine once more.

Just breathe. Focus.

But you couldn’t. Not when he was watching.

You stayed late again that night, going over the first act over and over again until Carlotta said you could stop. She gave you only one short fifteen minute break today and didn’t even let you eat. You had a turkey sandwich stashed in the break room fridge, but one of the ballet dancers had thrown it away.

One of the snarky blondes to be exact. “Oops, sorry. Was that yours? My bad,” she had said. You fumed with anger and yelled at her, wanting to slice into her. You had told Carlotta about what she did, but she just brushed it off saying you didn’t need to eat.

Today had been one of the most frustrating days at the theater. You were starving, you were lonely, and you were buzzing with emotions that left you wanting to curl into a ball and cry, letting all your frustrations of the day go.

This wasn’t anything like you imagined being a professional dancer would be. If someone had warned you, maybe you wouldn’t have taken the part. Maybe you would’ve stayed back in Florida. Maybe….oh, nevermind.

You were sitting on the edge of the stage, hanging your legs off the side as you slumped over and put your hands on your forehead, needing just a moment to breathe. To clear your mind.

As you continued to sulk, you heard faint footsteps against the dark brown wood that made up the floors. When you looked up your eyes widened, almost thinking you were imagining who you saw. There he was in all his glory, walking up to you slowly.

It was him. The man with the dark eyes that haunted your thoughts.

“Tough day?” he asked as a deep southern drawl left his mouth. A sound that could stop you in your tracks. A lull that could hum you to sleep.

He raised his eyebrows as he waited for you to respond, taking another step forward, stopping just a few short steps away from you.

“Yeah, you could say that,” you sighed as you sat up taller, trying to keep your restless legs still.

“They’re pretty tough on you, aren’t they?” he asked with concern in his simmering eyes.

“Unfortunately,” you grumbled.

“You new to this?” he asked as he took another step forward, making you nervous with how close he was getting to you.

“It’s my first big show,” you said with a shrug, not showing much enthusiasm.

“You don’t seem too excited,” he stated plainly, pointing out the obvious.

“All my life I’ve worked to get this far. I never expected to get the lead in this ballet, but I did. And no, it’s not what I expected, but I’m just trying to remind myself this is what I’ve wanted my entire life,” you replied adamantly, raising your voice just the tiniest bit.

“Jus’ be careful. Don’t hurt yourself. I see how hard you practice. You must be exhausted.” His dark eyes turned to a warm coffee color, eyes you wanted to swim in. They were absolutely breathtaking. They changed just the slightest more dark when he was talking about something serious. Something you were embarrassed that you picked up on quickly.

“I am exhausted. I don’t really have a choice though. They don’t give many breaks around here,” you shrugged defeatedly, putting your hands on the edge of the stage.

“Jus’ try not to let anyone push you around too much. Okay?” he asked with a calm demeanor.

“Okay,” you nodded, not wanting to tell him you’d still be pushed around, even if you didn’t like it.

“Wait. So you’ve been watching me?” you asked as you glanced up from your long eyelashes, looking directly at him.

“Oh, uhh no. I’m just around a lot and see you up there practicing. That’s all,” he said with rushed words, turning red in the cheeks.

So he was watching you. You knew it. You could feel his eyes on you throughout the day. That dark gaze that made you dizzy.

A slow tingle ran down the back of your spine at the thought of his eyes on you. Watching your moves, watching your form, keeping his eyes on you.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked coolly.

Sweetheart?! He just called you sweetheart.

Christ. You were already freaking out, and you didn’t even know his name yet. You had to calm the fuck down. He was just a man. A really attractive, manly man. The first person to even be nice to you in this city.

You gave him your name and then he repeated it back with a melodic tone in his voice, captivating you with his smooth, gentle voice.

Fuck. You had it bad.

“That’s a pretty name,” he said with a smile creeping up to the corners of his mouth. Sending butterflies through your stomach.

“I’m Joel,” he said kindly as he held out his hand for you to shake.

You looked at it for a couple seconds, blinking your wide eyes, and then reached your arm out and took his hand. Heat burned through you the moment his hand connected with yours. It was big and strong. Rough calluses lining the backs of his fingers as they scraped against yours.

You gasped when he closed his firm hand over yours and shook it gently, enthralling you in a trance like state as you stared into his honey eyes, wanting to sink into them slowly.

After a few seconds he pried his fingers from yours and placed his hand down against the stage.

Right next to your thigh.

The side of his arm grazed the outside of your leg, sending electricity zapping through your nerves. He was standing so close, leaning too close. It was almost too much.

You squeezed your legs together as your breathing picked up, warmth building against the insides of your thighs. You were sure you were flushed. You had to be. With a gorgeous man like him standing this close to you? Fingers practically on your thigh.

Oh, God.

You were going to have a hell of a time keeping away from this one. You just knew it.

“You from around here?” he asked almost softly.

You shook your head. “No, I’m from Florida.”

“Ahh, the sunshine state. I can see that.” He flicked his eyes over you and faintly smiled as his hand shifted just the slightest, his wrist now leaning into the outside of your leg.

Your breath caught at the feel of him through your tights, the weight of his gleaming eyes on you making you burn with heat. It was a lot. He was a lot.

“You have any family here?” he asked as he leaned against the stage, his bicep flexing on the spot.

You took your eyes off the thick veins in his arm and looked back up into his honey eyes. “No,” you said sadly, dropping your eyes again. “They’re all back in Florida, unfortunately.”

“That’s a shame. What about friends? You have any friends here? Surely a girl like you has some kind of support system.”

You looked down at the ground and sighed, shaking your head as your face dropped. “No. I mean I used to have friends. At least I thought. Once I got the lead role in the ballet, they all turned on me. Turns out they wanted my spot, and apparently I stole it from them.” You put the word stole in air quotes as you spoke. “So, no. Can’t say that I have anyone here.”

A wave of sadness washed over you as you looked back up at Joel, keeping back tears as you glanced at him with a melancholy look on your face.

He furrowed his eyebrows as a concerned stare met your eyes. Like he was apprehensive and worried. “Sounds like they’re jus’ jealous that you’re a better dancer than them. Girls can be little vipers. Gotta watch your back.”

“Yeah…I try. And my instructor is kind of a nightmare. She nitpicks every single thing I do, and it makes me feel like maybe I don’t belong here or maybe I’m not good enough...”

He cut you off as he cupped your chin and turned you to where you were eye level with his. You gulped as his dark brown eyes were searing into yours, his face intense as his hand stayed under your chin. A tingle running down your jawline.

“You do belong here. I’ve seen the way you dance. The way you lose yourself in the music, in your dance moves. You’re good. Best I’ve seen up on that stage actually.”

So he had been watching you dance all this time. You knew it. Holy shit.

“You wanna dance, right?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“And you want to be the star of this ballet?”

“That’s right,” you said quietly, your mouth dry from the contact of his fingers on your face.

“Then dance. Forget about them. Forget about all of them. Just go out there and do what you do best. Think you can do that?”

You nodded your head as you worked hard to keep your breathing normal. “Mhm,” you replied.

“Atta girl.”

Your eyes widened at the reference, a wave of slick pooling in between your legs as you pushed them closer together.

God, his voice was so smooth with that southern accent. It was making you come undone.

“Try not to let ‘em get in your head. A pretty thing like you should be treated better. Jus’ be careful. Don’t work yourself too hard.”

Pretty? He thought you were pretty. Holy…

He let go of your chin and took his hand off the stage, gently grazing the side of your leg as he backed up, leaving heat running along the places he had just touched.

“If ya ever need someone to talk to, I’m around. You know where to find me. See ya later, sunshine.”

He turned and walked the opposite way, heading for the exit door at the back of the room. Leaving you completely breathless as you watched him get further.

You just sat there gawking at him with an open mouth. Did he just give you a nickname? He called you sunshine. And damn, if it wasn’t the sweetest sound you ever heard.

Before he pushed the door open, he stopped and looked back at you, eyes flickering over you once more.

You closed your jaw and tried to look more sophisticated. Make it look like you weren’t freaking out on the inside.

He nodded his head toward you and then headed out the door as it closed with a loud bang against the echo of the auditorium.

You were left there sitting against the stage as your fingers dug into the sides with your legs pressed together. Leaving you with wanting thoughts and a pool of desire in between your legs.

You sat there thinking of his handsome features, his tousled curls, his honey eyes, his broad shoulders, his thick hands. You sat like that until the lights started dimming, signaling you it was time to leave. To go back to the empty apartment. When all you wanted was for him to fill the silence of those bare walls. A longing desire that needed to be put to sleep.

That night you tossed and turned in your sheets. You couldn’t get him out of your head. Those smoldering eyes haunted your dreams. He was so charming, so nice. The way he had called you sunshine. Enticing you with that low southern drawl of his. It did things to you. Immoral things.

You couldn’t sleep so you did the next best thing you could to get him out of your mind. You touched yourself. As you slid your hand beneath the sheets, you found your aching core to be wet and sticky. Slick was pooling at your middle, covering the inside of your thighs. Making them wetter the more you thought about him.

You groaned as you slid one of your fingers inside yourself, feeling your dripping wet walls as you pushed in and out, letting all your sexual frustration out.

You took your other hand and placed two fingers against your throbbing clit, pressing them down on the most sensitive spot that you could find. You moaned out as the slow circles turned into fast breaths and silent cries. Needing more, needing something else.

Dark eyes encapsulated your vision as you closed your eyes, concentrating on those bulging veins. Reflecting on that low drawl of his voice, pretending he was in the room with you now. Working you with those thick fingers of his.

Atta girl. That’s a good girl. That’s it, sunshine.

Your fingers were circling faster, pumping in and out harder, curling up into the spongy spot that made you see stars.

That’s my good girl.

And then you were coming as you released all your built up pressure, clenching around nothing and coming undone. Saturating the bottom of your sheets as you moaned out Joel’s name across the room, spilling yourself once more onto the bed.

Christ. You had to get a hold of yourself. You needed to focus on your dancing, not the brooding man that made you absolutely crazy.

But he wasn’t just a man.

No.

He was more than that. So much more.

Part 2

#joel miller #joel x you #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel x female reader #joel miller smut #joel tlou #protective joel

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justagalwhowrites · 11 months

Text

Lavender - Ch. 20

Life in the QZ gets worse and you're called outside the walls again. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-19 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (broken up), Tommy Miller x Reader

Warnings: Mild smut, talk of extreme police action, description of injuries. No use of Y/N. Minors, DNI 18+ only

Length: 6.5k

Saturday, June 11, 2011 - One Year Later

“I can only keep them off your back so long,” Elias was all but stalking you into an operating room as you made sure your hair was tucked below your scrub cap. “At some point…”

“I’m not asking for you to keep them off my back,” you said, pausing at the door to go scrub in. “Don’t need to lie, don’t need make up an excuse. Tell them I think they’re fascists and that I’m not going to prop up their dystopian police state.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, looking exhausted.

“They’re going to do it with or without you there,” he said. “This isn’t the hill you want to die on…”

“I think it’s exactly the hill to fucking die on, actually,” you snapped.

“And if they decide to execute you, too?” He demanded. “What then?”

“Sounds like you’ll need to find someone to fill in for me on Saturdays,” you shrugged. He glared at you. “Can I go do this hernia repair now or are you going to keep trying to get me to be a tool in the continued downfall of humanity?”

“Sometimes we can’t solve everything ourselves,” he said. “Sometimes we have to go along with awful things because we can do more good if we survive it.”

You sighed.

“They don’t know shit about medicine, right?” You said. He nodded once. “Great. Tell them you really just can’t spare me because I’m the only one who can do some stupid common surgical procedure so you need me here when I’m on duty. Because it’s just raining appendicitis here in the QZ. I imagine that will satisfy them and they can figure out how to check the pulse of someone they’ve hanged themselves without dragging me into it…”

“Might work,” he sighed.

“None of us should be a part of this,” you said. “Not just me. None of us should. It goes against our oath and even if it didn’t, it’s cruel and wrong.”

“I agree,” he said. “But imagine how many people would die if they executed the entire clinic for insubordination. Oaths are complicated things. Sometimes, we have to look beyond just ourselves and consider what’s best for the whole.”

“What’s best for the whole is FEDRA not executing people who have broken curfew one too many times because suddenly they’re dissidents,” you replied and then you sighed. “I do need to actually operate, I’ve got another hernia repair after this one… I’m sorry you’re stuck dealing with this shit. If you can keep me out of it while letting me keep my head, I’d appreciate it.”

“Just… try not to call any of the guards fascist to their face, alright?” He said. “I’d rather you not end up shot in the street.”

“I’ll do my best.”

You went in to scrub and ground your teeth. Things had been steadily going down hill with FEDRA for the last six months.

Patrols had increased drastically. They instituted a curfew about 10 months back that people didn’t take seriously at first - especially not the speakeasy crowd. Being home by midnight seemed outrageous.

Then the executions started.

They waited a few months before they started killing people. Gave people citations. Warned them that they’d be seen as conspirators with the Fireflies, the militarized resistance to FEDRA. From what you’d heard on your regular visits to the radio - you were still hoping against hope to find Cassie one day, though you were far less certain of her survival than you’d ever been of Joel and Tommy’s - that the fireflies were gaining strength across all the other QZs. People were angry that things weren’t getting better. You didn’t blame them.

The first sign you had that you, specifically, needed to worry about getting roped in was when Andrew showed up to your apartment one evening, looking distraught.

“Hey,” you frowned, pulling him inside. You led him to your couch and he sat down, almost in a daze. “What’s going on?”

“Guards just came by, they took Jess, said they needed her, they’re doing something outside the walls, I don’t know what they need her for out there, it doesn’t make sense,” his voice cracked. “I don’t know what they need her for, what if something happens? She’s never been out there, she’s from Boston, she came right here, what if…”

You pulled him into a hug, his arms going around your waist, his head buried in your stomach and he let out a choking sob.

“It’s OK,” you ran your fingers through his hair. “It’ll be OK, they’ll look out for her. She’s going to be OK.”

He spent the night that night, you sandwiched between him and Tommy (“This is weird, right?” Tommy said. “I mean, I’m fine with it, I just want to know that I’m not crazy.” “It’s weird,” you and Andrew said together.) Jess came back the next day, shaken but otherwise OK. It was the first of numerous trips for her outside the walls of the QZ. They were trying to use her to justify increased militarized presence through psychology, how that would help keep raiders under control. They were trying to prove their own worth. It was only a matter of time before they started roping in medical staff and teachers, too.

Meanwhile, the Fireflies were getting more outspoken, more vocal and more violent. The tighter FEDRA seemed to squeeze, the more people wanted to back the Fireflies. It was so incredibly stupid on FEDRA’s part it took all you had to not walk off both your jobs. The only thing that kept you going was the fact that it was the best way you could help people. There were no schools or clinics that weren’t run by FEDRA. If you wanted to teach, if you wanted to heal, there were no other options.

And you could use your connections to keep Tommy, Joel and Tess safe.

They were still making their smuggling runs. You tried talking Tommy out of it every time he was about to leave for another one, all but begging him to stay with you instead of going out again.

“What, and leave Tess and Joel without all my skills to back them up?” He kissed your forehead. “C’mon. I’m basically the only reason they’re still alive, Sweetheart. Can’t let them go it alone.”

So you kept them stocked in trauma supplies, stealing things from work with even greater regularity. Tommy kept showing up at your door battered and bruised. You’d taken to keeping a suture kit at your house, regularly needing to stitch his wounds closed.

“I really fucking hate this,” you said one night, stitching a knife wound to his shoulder closed as you sat behind him on your bed.

“Sweetheart,” he sighed.

“No, I mean it,” you said. “I really hate it. I really hate seeing you hurt, I really hate patching you up, I really hate that you feel like you have to do this. I really fucking hate it, Tommy, and I wish you’d stop going out there.”

You tied off the suture and got the kit cleaned up, stashing what was unused and still sterile back in your abused at home supply kit.

“Hey,” he took your hand and pulled you between his legs, looking up at you. “I’m not goin’ out there for nothing…”

“You’re going out there for ration cards,” you snapped. “Which is damn near nothing.”

“Goin’ out there for shit we can’t get here,” he said, untying your robe and unwrapping you slowly, like you were a gift. He pressed his lips to your bare stomach, kissing up your body to your breastbone. “Some of it is important shit. And I have to try to keep Joel and Tess safe. I’m not tryin’ to get hurt, I’m really not tryin’ to hurt you. I’m doing it because it’s important and it’s the only damn way I got to do something important in this fuckin’ place.”

“You’re important to me,” you said quietly, running your fingers through his hair. “Be important that way.”

“And you’re important to me,” he kissed your chest again. “But would you listen if I asked you to stop working at the clinic?”

“I’m not risking my life at the clinic.”

“You’ve got your brain to offer,” he half smiled up at you. “I’m a soldier. All I’ve got’s my body, so I’m usin’ it.” He tugged you closer. “Hopin’ you’ll let me.”

You sighed, straddling him, kissing him, your arms draped carefully over his shoulders so as to not disturb his fresh sutures.

“Really don’t encourage a lot of physical activity so soon after a medical procedure,” you said as he slid your robe to the floor and trailed his lips down your throat. “Should probably make you wait…”

“Swear to God I’ll lose my mind if you don’t let me inside you,” he growled and you laughed. He took the opportunity to pick you up and lay you down with a surprised shriek.

“And you really shouldn’t be doing that,” you said between kisses. “You’re going to rip your stitches out!”

“Worth it.”

He quickly pulled off his pants and thrust into you, making you gasp and moan. “Fuck, Sweetheart, Goddamn,” he groaned. “How do you always feel this fuckin’ good?”

You ground your hips into him and he pressed his lips to the hollow of your throat with a delicious moan, starting to work himself in and out of you. He knew just how you liked to be fucked now, knew all the places inside you to find, how to work your clit, touch your skin, suck your nipples into his mouth. He pulled you tight and close to him as his pace increased and your orgasm built and you fell apart together, gasping for breath as he lay on top of you. You lifted your head just enough to see his sutures before collapsing back down into bed.

“You got fucking lucky, Miller,” you panted. “Because I’d never fuck you again if you made me redo those stitches.”

“I’d seduce you eventually,” he said, kissing your shoulder and sliding out of you. You rolled your eyes. “Only took me 10 years the first time…”

Your relationship with Tommy had been one of the few, surprising bright spots in the last year. It was oddly easy, being with him. There wasn’t much about him that wasn’t easy. He was sweet, he was fun. It was what you’d imagined a relationship to be like in college before you’d started dating Joel. With Joel, it had been heady and intense from the beginning. You’d been head over heels for him from the start. There was no other option, it was all in or nothing and nothing didn’t feel like it was on the table.

Tommy was the opposite. But that was, in part, because you couldn’t seem to actually fall for him. Even when you tried. Even when you focused on it.

It didn’t seem to matter what he did. He took you dancing at the Speakeasy. He brought you bottles of wine from outside the QZ. He got you a small TV/VCR combo from the underground market and a copy of You’ve Got Mail on VHS. You were almost giddy with it while trying to tell him it was way too much.

“Nah, I had to,” he smiled. “Found the tape when we were outside, knew how much you loved that movie. Then I just had to make sure you could actually watch the damn thing.”

Tommy was probably a damn near perfect boyfriend. He just… wasn’t Joel.

It didn’t matter that you hadn’t seen him - not even in passing - since the conversation near the clinic. Tommy always came to your place. You always dealt with him or Tess when it came to resupplying their medical stash. He had done a thorough job of making sure you never saw each other.

And it didn’t make a damn difference.

There was a second every morning Tommy spent the night where you thought you were waking up next to his brother. It was one moment - a sweet, if brief, moment - where everything felt right. It was one of your favorite moments of the day, the second there your mind tricked yourself that you were still with the person you loved most. And then came the letdown followed by the shame of it.

“What the fuck is my problem?” You asked Andrew one afternoon as you worked in your lab. “Why can’t I get the fuck over him? Tommy… he’s basically perfect, why can’t I just love him? Why do I have to want the person who doesn’t want me back? And at what point do I fucking tell Tommy ‘hey, I know you’ve basically done nothing but be the best boyfriend a girl could ask for for the past almost year but I’m still in love with your brother who, as it happens, is kind of a dick.’”

“The heart wants what the heart wants, I guess,” Andrew shrugged. “I can’t imagine loving anyone but Jess. You could drop Halle Berry in front of me, make her love all the same shit I do and I’d still want Jess. Just how it works sometimes.”

“This is such a fucking mess,” you groaned.

“He said he understood what he was getting into,” he shrugged again. “So, if I were you, I’d keep it to myself until he drops the L-word on you. Then you’ll have to come clean. But, until then, I think you’re in the clear.”

“Why am I this stupid?” You asked. “Seriously. I’m not this stupid with anything else, how was I this fucking stupid?”

“Eh, you’re pretty stupid with at least some other things,” he said. You glared at him. “You are an absolute shit partner to have in bridge. You cannot strategize for shit, you are really stupid at bridge.”

“Thank you,” you said sarcastically. “That makes me feel so much better.”

“Always happy to be of service.”

It had been a few months that you’d known, for a fact, that you couldn’t fall in love with Tommy. It didn’t matter how hard you tried, how much you wanted to, it wasn’t going to happen. You still weren’t sure what to do about it.

You thought about it more when he wasn’t around. So you were thankful, that Saturday, to have surgeries to attend to. Tommy, Joel and Tess were outside the QZ yet again. Not only were you always worried the whole time they were gone, your brain went into overdrive trying to figure out what to do about the Tommy situation. Surgery was a pleasant distraction.

It was late when you finally finished everything on the docket that day. The sun had set and you felt like you were ready to fall asleep standing up.

“Want to come over later?” Andrew asked as you leaned against the front desk. “Feel like you might need the distraction.”

“Yeah…” you sighed, looking out at the empty waiting room. “Probably a good idea…”

The bell on the front door rang and you instinctively looked. Tess ran in, eyes wide, blood dripping from her shoulder.

“Fuck,” you swore. You were running before you even really knew you were running, grabbing one of the clinic’s go bags.

“Andrew,” you said as you went for the door. “Keep an OR ready for me, do NOT shut down until I get back, understand? See if you can get someone else to stay, please…”

“I’ve got it,” he said. “Go!”

Tess led the way to the hole in the fence.

“What happened?” You asked, the two of you walking as quickly as you could without drawing the attention of anyone patrolling.

“We got pinned down, about a mile outside the QZ,” she said. “We took everyone out eventually but Tommy and Joel…”

“Tess,” your voice cracked.

“They were alive when I left,” she said.

“Fuck!”

You slipped out of the fence, past the search lights and the debris field, and you ran.

You’d never been an athlete. You liked hiking and swimming and walking and were in fine shape but you’d never been a runner. That didn’t seem to matter then.

You raced toward where Tess pointed you, her falling back. You started watching for the bodies that would be around wherever they’d stashed themselves, the telltale signs of the showdown Tess mentioned.

When you spotted it, you practically tore into the small storefront, yanking a flashlight out of your pocket. It didn’t take you long to find Joel and Tommy.

“Hey Sweetheart,” Tommy smiled a little at you. He was breathing heavily, his gun lying across his lap. Tess ran in behind you.

“Hey, you idiot,” you smiled a little back. Joel was silent on the ground. “I need to evaluate you both and figure this out, try to stay conscious for me, OK?”

“Anything for you,” he said, wincing a little.

You took off your backpack and put your flashlight in your teeth, looking Joel over first. He was unconscious but he had a pulse and was breathing. Good signs, even though his breath was shallow. There was a penetrating chest wound and a compound fracture just above his left knee.

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck did you guys get up to?” You asked, pulling out your stethoscope. “Do you know how fucking hard it is to break your femur?”

“Had to jump off a roof,” Tommy winced. “Think I just sprained an ankle, Joel landed wrong…”

“Wrong is a fucking understatement,” you muttered, checking his heart rate and his breathing. “Think he’s stable for the moment…”

You moved to Tommy.

“Why do I feel like we’re gonna be in a fight after this?” He asked.

“Because we are,” you said. “Show me what’s wrong.”

“Got shot,” he angled his leg with a groan so you could see the wound. It was to the thigh but had missed the major arteries, so not terrible. “Sprained the ankle…”

“Tess,” you said. “I’m going to need…”

There was a sudden gasping sound from behind you and you spun. Joel was still unconscious but he was struggling to breathe.

“Doc!” Tess ran to him.

“Move!” You ordered, rushing over and thrusting the stethoscope into your ears. You pressed it to his chest and listened. “Fucking hell…”

You yanked your bag to your side and started ripping through it.

“What?” Tess sounded panicked. “What is it?”

“He had a fucking pneumothorax that I missed and it just changed to a tension pneumothorax,” you said, thrusting the flashlight to Tess. She took it, shining the light down at the bag. You found a scalpel and some tubing.

“What’s that?” She asked. “What does that mean?”

“It means there’s air in his chest that’s trapped and making it so his lung can’t inflate and I need to get it out or he’s going to fucking die,” you snapped, ripping his shirt open, sending buttons flying and pointing to a spot on his rib cage. You cut off a short length of tube. “Light here.”

She obeyed and you made the cut, thrusting the tubing in to hold the incision open so the air could escape. He took a deep, shuddering breath and you relaxed.

“Thank fuck for that,” you sighed, really looking at his face for the first time.

You had to fight the urge to touch him. He was still so fucking beautiful it made your heart ache. Seeing him again was like getting hit by the train. All this time, you’d thought you’d just been holding steady, that you just kept loving him the same way you always had.

You hadn’t. It had become a dull roar. It hung on the edges of everything but you could forget about it sometimes, when he wasn’t there to remind you. But the second you saw him, it was all consuming. You felt it in your skin, your chest, your marrow. Loving him was built into you like any other vital thing, there was no excising it. You could quiet it, avoid it but it would never cease to exist. Not for you.

“Tess,” you said after a second. “Hold pressure on the lower chest wound, leave the one I just made the fuck alone.”

You went to Tommy and started looking at his gunshot wound.

“How are you feeling?” You asked. “Lightheaded?”

“Nothin’ I can’t handle, Sweetheart,” he smiled a little. “Just having a hard time walking is all…”

“Yeah, that’s going to be the sticking point here,” you glanced to Tess.

“What?” She asked.

“You and I are going to have to do some heavy lifting,” you said.

“I can do that,” she nodded. “I can do that.”

You grabbed some gauze and a brace from your bag, wrapping Tommy’s gunshot wound and giving him some ankle support before you looked him in the eye.

“Alright Miller,” you said. “Time to boot and rally, you were in the army, you can do this. You’re going to go with Tess to the fence and head for the clinic. Andrew is waiting for you guys.”

“What about you?” He asked.

“I’m going to wake up Joel and I’m taking him to the main gate,” you said, getting to your feet and offering Tommy your hand.

“That’s a fucking death sentence, you can’t go to the main gate!” Tess gaped up at you.

“We can’t get him through the fence,” you said. “There’s no way in hell, not with a compound fracture, an open chest wound and a pneumo. Main gate might be a death sentence for you but I can get us in. It’ll be tricky but I can get us in.”

“That’s too big a risk,” Tommy said, taking your hand. You pulled him to his feet and slung his arm over your shoulder. “You can’t…”

“I can’t just leave him out here,” you looked up at him, meeting his gaze. “I need to get him to the clinic before shit gets worse and that’s the only way…”

He cupped your face, looking in your eyes and you knew he saw it. What you felt. Why you couldn’t leave Joel behind. Not now, not ever.

“It’s gonna get you killed, Sweetheart,” he said softly.

“Don’t have a choice,” you smiled sadly. He pressed his lips to your forehead.

“Tess?” You said, still looking at Tommy. She came alongside you and you held up his arm. She stepped into place. “Straight to the clinic, OK?”

“You sure you’ve got Joel from here?” She asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “Get yourselves out of here, we’ll be right behind. The clinic. Andrew’s staying there, he’ll help you.”

She nodded and they left you there with Joel on the ground.

You ran to his side, checking his breathing. Still solid.

“Well at least there’s that,” you muttered to yourself. You quickly bandaged the wound at his chest. Looking closer, you were pretty sure it was a stab wound and not a bullet hole. You tried to keep it so it wouldn’t be jostled and have him start bleeding out. You moved onto the leg.

You were going to need to at least partially set it, there’s no way you could carry him and he couldn’t put any weight on it the way it was now. It was just going to hurt like a bitch. Which is part of why you’d sent Tess and Tommy along. This part was not going to be pretty and there was a good chance he was going to scream loud enough to attract every clicker and raider in a five mile radius.

“OK Miller,” you grabbed the length of tubing you hadn’t used to open his chest and put it between his teeth, making him bite down on it. “You can do this, you can get through this you stubborn asshole, you’re going to be fine, hear me? I will never forgive you if you’re not fine so you’re going to be fucking fine…”

You grabbed the stuff to make a splint from your bag and set it up around his injured leg before you put one knee on his hip, hoping to help hold him still.

“Here we go,” you took a deep breath. “One, two, three…”

You winced as you started pushing his bone back into alignment. He gasped and flung his hand out, catching you in the side.

“It’s me!” You said quickly, pushing the bone back into place. He groaned, the sound choking and gasping. “Bite down on the tube, I’m setting your leg enough that you can put weight on it, I know it hurts, I’m almost done just stick with me…”

The bone disappeared below the skin and you stopped pushing. Joel went slack, panting for breath. You grabbed gauze and quickly bound the point where the break had come through the skin before setting the splint.

“You still with me over there, Miller?” You asked, not able bring yourself to look over at him, afraid of what you might see.

“Still here,” he was panting for breath.

“Good,” you said, sitting back on your heels for a moment, out of breath yourself. You looked over at him.

He was watching you, a soft look on his face. Your heart swelled with it.

“Hey Kid,” he said quietly.

“Hey,” you half smiled at him.

“Tess and Tommy?” He asked.

“Headed for the QZ,” you said. “Sent them on ahead because they’re taking a different route in than us.”

“What route are we taking?” He frowned.

“Main gate,” you said, starting to pack up your supplies.

“No,” he shook his head. “No, we can’t…”

“You can’t without me,” you cut him off. “But I can. And you can’t get under the fence right now, Joel, not with your leg like that coupled with the fact that you’ve got a penetrating chest wound and I had to give you an incision to relieve a tension pneumothorax.”

“Then you’re leavin’ me out here,” he started trying to prop himself up on his elbows and you went to help him. “Not riskin’ you bringing me in through the main gate…”

“Shut the fuck up, Miller,” you said, helping him sit up all the way. He glared at you.

“Always knew there was a risk of not comin’ back, Kid,” he said. His eyes kept ranging over your face.

“You don’t get to just die on me out here,” you snapped. “We’re not doing that, got it? I didn’t come all the way out here to save your ass just to have you die on me so we’re going to the main fucking gate.”

You stood up and put on the pack before offering him your hand. He glared at you.

“I swear to God Joel if you don’t I will go to the main gate myself and make them come get you in a patrol truck,” you snapped. “Guessing this is a smuggling hide out for you, I will bring them here, I don’t give a shit.”

“You’re the most stubborn damn woman I’ve ever met,” he muttered, taking your hand.

“Put as much weight as you can on the good leg,” you ordered. He glared at you. “What, you’re saying dumb shit like I should just leave you out here to die so I have to state the obvious. Ready?” He nodded once. “Alright, one, two, three.”

You pulled and he hissed in pain as you helped him up. He almost collapsed and you caught him with your shoulder tucked into his armpit.

“See?” You said as he panted for breath. “We’ve got this.”

It didn’t take long for you and Joel to fall into a rhythm that kept his pain from getting worse as you walked. It was slow going but you made steady progress.

“Why’d you do this?” He managed after you’d walked half a mile.

“What do you mean?” You frowned.

“Come out here,” he said. His breaths came in short, gasping pants. “Save me. Why?”

You were quiet for a moment.

“You know why,” you said eventually.

He ground his teeth.

“We’re not good for each other,” he said.

“I know.”

“Told you I didn’t want to see you.”

“Trust me, I remember.”

“You’re with Tommy.”

“I know.”

He growled. The searchlights of the QZ perimeter were getting close.

“When we get up there, let me do the talking,” you said. “Keep your mouth fucking shut. I’m going to get us through this in one piece but you have to do what I say for a change, got it?”

He just grunted in affirmation.

The guards spotted you quickly. It wasn’t like you were trying to hide.

“Hands up!” Their guns were drawn. You raised the hand you could. “I fucking said hands up!”

“Can’t put them all up, I have an injured man with me,” you called back. “I’m a doctor at the clinic, I got word of an injured person outside the fence, I’m bringing him in for treatment…”

The voice shifted.

“Doc? That you?”

You squinted against the searchlight as the guard came closer. You smiled a little.

“Hi Tim,” you said. You’d known there was a good chance one of your former students would be at the gate. It was just luck that it was one who remembered you fondly. He lowered his gun.

“What are you doing out here?” He asked, coming over and taking Joel’s other side. Joel just gaped at you.

“Helping the injured,” you jerked your head in Joel’s direction. “That whole hippocratic oath thing, I couldn’t just ignore it once I knew about it. I was hoping you could let us in here.”

“Doc, you left the QZ…” he said quietly.

“I know,” you said. “And I don’t want to compromise you or your job in any way. But I had to do my job, too. If you need to write me up or take me into custody you can, but I need to get this man to the clinic first…”

He looked Joel over.

“You’ll make sure he does intake?” He asked.

“Of course,” you replied. He pulled out a scanner and took a sample from each of you. The screen glowed green. His jaw twitched.

“Alright,” he said. “But we have to move quick and you never saw me, OK?”

“Thank you,” you said, moving as quickly as Joel would allow. Your heart was in your throat until you were through the gate.

“Get to the clinic by curfew,” Tim said. “You’ve only got 20 minutes.”

***

Joel wasn’t sure what hurt more, his leg, his chest or seeing you.

He’d managed to avoid you for a year. A whole year of not seeing your face, the longest he’d gone since he’d come to the QZ. He hated every goddamn second of it.

It was the right thing to do, though, trying to let you go. He kept fucking failing you and he’d keep fucking failing you the more he was around you. And being around you hurt.

He wasn’t sure it would be better or worse if you were his. Everything he’d lost was all tied up in you. The life he’d been inches away from having wound around your limbs and lips and hair. He didn’t think he could just be next to you and know that. But fuck, not seeing you…

One of the hardest things he’d ever had to do was say goodbye to you that day on the street. But he couldn’t keep drowning you in his misery. As much as he’d hated Tommy for touching you, for picking you, he couldn’t hate him for pointing out the obvious. He’d been cruel to you. As much as he was angry, hurting, wanting to hate you, you didn’t deserve that. You deserved better than what he could give you. You were too much for him to take and he couldn’t seem to stop hurting you. It had to end.

But he was relieved that he could gauge how you were doing by Tommy’s mood. He didn’t like much else about the fact that you were with him but when Tommy came home from seeing you in a good mood, he knew you were happy. If he were a little off, he knew you probably had a bad day at work. If he were irritable it meant you were upset about something. He didn’t dare ask what but he knew it was something.

It was strange, knowing you existed in the world but not knowing much of anything about it. He clung to what he did know. Wished he didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to see you. Wished he didn’t want to look at you.

But now you were close - so fucking close - and it hurt. Andrew helped you get him onto an exam table and he could barely hear what you were saying, giving him some kind of pill and making him breathe in some shit that made his head swim as you made him lie down.

“Don’t want you workin’ on me,” he managed. You frowned.

“Well I’m the only option you have, Miller, so suck it up,” you said, not looking up from your work at his side.

“Don’t want to want to look at you,” he muttered.

“Then don’t look at me,” you said, stitching up his side.

“Can’t help it,” he mumbled. “Too fuckin’ pretty…”

“Sounds like a personal problem, Miller,” you said. “Stop talking so much, you’re making it hard to sew.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Just missed you.”

You looked at him for a moment.

“Missed you too.”

You went back to sewing. He just watched you work, soaking up what he could of you. He didn’t know when he’d see you again. He wanted to hold onto this.

He fell asleep watching you heal him.

***

By the time you finished with Joel, you were exhausted. You were going to have to just sleep in an exam room, it was past curfew and you wouldn’t want to be far, anyway. But, for that moment, you just wanted to slump against the wall in the hall, not able to make yourself move any further.

You slid to the floor, leaning your head back against the wall and taking a deep breath. Your legs and arms ached. You were pretty sure your abs would, too, in the morning after you hauled Joel all that way.

Tess came out of an exam room and looked surprised to find you on the floor before siting next to you.

“How is he?” She asked.

“He’ll be fine,” you sighed. “Won’t be able to make any runs for at least two months while his femur heals, though.”

She nodded slowly.

“Can I ask you something?” She asked after a moment.

“As long as it’s nothing philosophical,” you replied. “Brain is fried. Ask me how to do surgery, that I can do with my eyes closed.”

“What are you doing with them?” She asked, watching you. You frowned. “You’ve got Tommy wrapped around your finger. You’ll put your life on the line to save Joel. What are you doing with them?”

“Nothing that I really have a say in,” you looked at her, too tired to try to dodge the question. “If I could stop… feeling the way I do, I would. I hate it, I hate what it’s done to me, what it’s done to him, what it’s doing to Tommy and I just… I don’t want it anymore. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I want it to be over.

“I keep thinking that loving people, that’s the reason we’re here. That’s what we’re supposed to do with life, we’re supposed to love people as much as we can for as long as we can but that doesn’t work anymore, does it? Maybe it did before all this happened. Maybe it didn’t and I was just too naive to know it but that’s what it felt like we were supposed to do. But I can’t keep loving him and I can’t just let this keep going with Tommy and I just….” Your voice cracked. You were too tired to try to fight off tears.

Tess tugged you over so your head was on her shoulder. You blinked in surprise.

“I was married before,” she said. “I told you that. I didn’t tell you that I had to shoot him, in the outbreak.”

“Jesus…” you breathed.

“Even knowing how it was going to end, I’m glad I had it while I did,” she said. “But I’m still too afraid to ever love someone like that again. Love like that wrecks you, utterly destroys you. It’s why I make the choices I make now. And yeah, it’s safer but my God is life sweeter when you have it.

“Joel’s broken like that, too,” she said. “Part of why we get along. I’m not sure he’ll ever get his shit together. It’s too big a risk for him. But I think you still can figure it out. It hasn’t broken you yet. You still wear ribbons in your hair. You’re not broken yet.”

You stared at the wall for a moment.

“I need to talk to Tommy,” you said eventually.

“I’m really sorry, Doc,” she said quietly.

“Me too.”

You made yourself stop crying before you knocked on Tommy’s door and opened it quietly, half hoping he would be asleep when you went inside.

No such luck.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he half smiled at you.

“Hey,” you half smiled back. “How are you feeling?”

“Been better,” he shrugged. “Been worse.”

You nodded.

“The nurse - Kristen, I think? - said Joel was fine,” he said. You nodded again.

He just looked at you for a moment, like he was memorizing you.

“I never had a shot, did I?” He asked.

You smiled tightly.

“I told you I wasn’t sure I could ever love anyone else,” you said softly.

“You did,” he nodded. “Just hoped I’d convince you.”

“You and me both.”

He smiled at that and held out his hand for you. You took it, letting him tug you to him.

“You’ve been the most fun I’ve had since the end of the world,” he said. “Glad we got to figure it out.”

“Me too,” you sniffed, trying not to cry.

He smiled and kissed your forehead.

“Go sleep,” he said. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“Yeah, I think I am,” you laughed. “Your brother is fucking heavy, I’m never hauling him anywhere again…”

He laughed at that, too. You looked at him.

“I really tried,” you said quietly. “But…”

“I know,” he said. “Now get out of here before I do something stupid.”

You nodded and went for the door.

“Hey,” he said.

You stopped and turned back to him.

“Here’s looking at you, Kid.”

You smiled, shook your head a little, and left him behind.

A/N: Hi guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as things ramp up as we build into the core story of TLOU. Tommy will still be around for a bit but boyfriend Tommy is over. So sorry for all the Tommy Stans! This was always the plan, though. He was here to help Joel figure his shit out and give Doc a way out of her single-mindedness when it comes to Joel.

I do have a tag list, please let me know if you'd like to be added, just comment below! If you've asked and haven't made it on, please ask again. I'm trying to get everyone added but I think people may have slipped through the cracks because I have no organizational system for this.

Thank you so much for reading and commenting and letting me know how the story makes you feel! It's a joy to write for you all, thank you for hanging out with my characters :)

Taglist: @paleidiot @ayamenimthiriel @ginger-swag-rapunzel @drewharrisonwriter @flugazi @pedropascalsbbg @taoyuji @starstruckmusiciansartghost @splendsay @bigboiseason123 @jpbplvr @ashleyandring @mrsyixingunicorn10 @sloanexx @ninaminaromina @lady-bellyn

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut fic #fanfic

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lectercunt · 5 months

Note

more omega Hannibal fic list please 💗

Thanks for the request! Below are my Omega!Hannibal fic recommendations. Read responsibly and mind the tags!

The only fic ranked on this list is the first—stink in the nostrils by murdertrout. It is my favorite fic of all time, period, and just happens to be Omega!Hannibal. The last fic on the list is mine. Enjoy <3

stink in the nostrils

Secret Omega Hannibal is not pleased that he has imprinted on Will Graham. He avenges himself on his biology by getting Will Graham put behind bars. But when Will figures out what he’s been hiding and tampers with his suppressants, triggering his first heat, they both get more than they bargained for.

put your aching teeth to good use, my dear

Fromage AU. When Will sees Hannibal in his office, bloody but alive, he goes into a feral rut. Hannibal tries to pacify him.

prime

He bares his teeth in a smile that makes Will answer in kind. "I'll find you," he says; a threatening promise of his own. Will grins, and purrs for him in a way that makes Hannibal ache all over again. "Good," he replies. "I want you to."

feral

“Will,” Jack Crawford growls down the line, “Tell me Hannibal Lecter never confided in you that he was an Omega.” “Oh, shit.” “Oh, shit,” Jack agrees. They’ve come a long way from the old days, where Omegas in heat would slaughter anyone who stood between them and their chosen Alpha. Where Omegas would fight each other to the death in order to claim their prize, and some Alphas died of rut exhaustion or from injuries sustained from a too-eager Omega. Now, Omegas temper their heats with stabilizing pills and Alphas have a say in who they breed. But there would have been no stabilizing pills provided to an incarcerated Beta.

asserting dominance (dead dove!)

Hannibal has spent years of imprisonment without Will properly acknowledging their mating bond. When Hannibal sends the Dragon to kill Molly and Walter, he finally provokes Will into action: to remedy his jealous behavior by inducing his heat, and putting him in his place.

top dog, lost kitten

Hannibal, an omega catboy belonging to a rich family, finds himself drawn to a stray alpha dogboy by the name of Will. When Hannibal wanders the streets during his heat, he gets unwanted attention. As he had hoped, Will is there to look out for him.

soaked through

Season 3 AU, where Will shows his face and instead of receiving pain, Hannibal receives everything he's ever wanted.

we don't need to heal

Tired of wasting resources dealing with a horrific Omega criminal who is definitely not insane, the BSHCI and the FBI decide that the best course of action is to have him mated to an Alpha who can keep him under control. Find an Alpha for the job, and Hannibal Lecter can be out of their hands for good. Will Graham enters the BSCHI, believing himself to have been selected to interview the notorious killer about a cold case that has recently been attributed to him. What he finds instead will change their lives forever, and leave him wracked with guilt. Hannibal, on the other hand, could not be more satisfied with how things panned out for them both.

distraction

Hannibal smiles, purring softly, and leans down to nuzzle Will's forehead. "You needn't be so distressed, darling," he murmurs. There is blood on Will's neck, and his cut palm smears more fresh up his mate's bare forearm. His sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, so he can give Will all of his scent. Hannibal licks the smear of his own slick on Will's cheek, his purr for a moment growing louder. "When have I ever denied you?"

tables turned (dead dove!)

When Will turns a gun on him, Hannibal goes into heat. Will decides to toy with him before giving him what he wants.

an unexpected guest

Ten-year-old Henry Lecter’s sitter just bailed, leaving him alone to watch over his younger siblings. And that would have been fine, had a man from the FBI not chosen that precise moment to show up at their door. or Will and Hannibal got a little too close in Naka-Choko, resulting in a surprise pregnancy. Rather than having the bloody canon break-up, they took their new family, including Abigail, and skipped off to Europe for their happily ever after. Enter Jack, tracking them down almost eleven years later in the quaint Italian countryside, with only young Henry there to protect the family.

stronger than memory (dead dove!)

"Your real name can't possibly be Schatje." "It's the only real thing you need to know, Will." “Fine, at least tell me what it means.” It wasn’t a question nor a request, but a statement. "It means little treasure." “And are you, then? A little treasure?”

cover to cover (the mark of a lover)

Will and Hannibal are both Omegas. After Tobias' death, Will takes Hannibal home. Hannibal comes to the realization that, if the world will not give him the Alpha he so desires... he will create one.

time reversed

Hannibal and Will traverse an unexpected intimate development.

black in the moonlight

With his upcoming dinner with Hannibal and Jack hanging heavy on his mind, Will is drawn to Hannibal's house in the middle of the night. What he finds there affects him—for better or worse, it's hard to say.

trick me twice

Hannibal and Will are leaders of allied gangs, and were friends at one point - until Hannibal almost killed Will and sent him to prison. Now he needs Will's pack, his numbers, to stop his own pack being overrun. Will might never trust him again, but there's no reason they cannot keep things professional. At least, that's what Hannibal tells himself, as he enters the BSHCI to ask for Will's help.

a rare bouquet

Will finds himself drawn in by the darkness at Hannibal’s core—something only fully revealed in heat when the violent deaths of his alpha suitors can be legally excused. When Will witnesses the aftermath of one of those murders first hand, he feels compelled to begin a courtship, wanting to see everything that lies beneath the surface. But what he seeks is not tame, and it will take more than flowers to earn its respect.

into the wild

Alpha Will stumbles upon a feral Omega in Lithuanian forests. Too fascinated to leave him be, he follows him, not knowing what awaits him.

genesis

The fish of Hannibal's trust is a spritely and skittish thing, but Will is patient. He can follow the bubbles in the water and the shining slip of scales within the currents. He can fashion beautiful lures, both mental and physical, to please and soften his mate.

brouillé

Unthinkingly, he reaches into the drawer and pulls out the top shirt, holding it to his face and breathing in. No bleach, only the faintest trace of salt sweat, and none of the bitter fear he had expected. Instead, what Hannibal inhales is the pure, unsuppressed scent of alpha. That’s all it takes. One. Deep. Breath.

use your words

“Don’t worry, darling,” Hannibal says softly. “I know just what you need. You’re here for a reason—because you need a Daddy to guide you. So let go of your preoccupation with control and let me take care of you.”

series: other people's hearts

Truck driver Will suddenly finds himself with an armful of bloody omega named Hannibal, far too young and pretty to be hitchhiking in the middle of nowhere, and to Will's horror… fast approaching heat.

on the grounds where we feel safe

"Single Omega household seeking a primary caretaker for high-school aged female. Must own vehicle for chauffeuring, errands, and other duties as necessary. Room and board provided, and a stipend for necessities available for negotiation. Must have open availability and be willing to submit to a background check and drug test. Immediate start." Then a name, and a phone number. Doctor Hannibal Lecter.

it takes two to nest

When Hannibal hears a commotion down the hall at the hospital, naturally he goes to investigate. When he finds out that the omega patient, a Mr. Will Graham, is struggling so hard that the doctors are having difficulties handling him, naturally he is intrigued. And when he finds out that the on-call OBGYN has been delayed, naturally he steps in to deliver Will's baby himself. Dr. Hannibal Lecter can do anything, after all. Including deliver someone else's baby while minutes away from going into labor himself.

sweet tooth

He has prepared for this, of course. No self-respecting Omega of his stature and skill would deign to let themselves be taken by surprise. Although, again, he has not expected his final heat to approach for some time, it is one of those occurrences people prepare for like Doomsday. He has plans, and bags packed, and knows what he will need to do, to make sure he makes it through the ordeal with minimal discomfort. The first step will be to hunt, to stock his fridge and his stores so he will not go hungry. The second step will be to find a suitable companion.

slow like honey

Hannibal’s childbearing years are behind him, but Will manages to send him into his first heat in years. Will offers to help him out—it’s the least he can do.

duty calls

Tonight, Will is hungry.

#lectercunt #lectercunt fanfic rec #lectercunt fic rec #ask #asks #anon #hannigram #hannigram fanfic #hannigram fanfiction #hannigram fic #hannigram fic rec #hannigram fanfic rec #omega hannibal #alpha will graham

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iamthecomet · 9 months

Note

So hear me out!

As a fandom, we LOVE putting Dew through the wringer. Many ppl write his character as emotionally complicated and fucked up. Little guy had a hard past and does not deal well with feelings nor does he always have healthy coping mechanisms.

We have all seen fics where he deals with his shit through self harm/substance abuse, subspace, anger, age regression, animal regression, disassociation, etc.

And maybe this idea has been written before...but maybe not-

What if instead of all of the other mentioned stuff that he used to do...now that he's older he just finds it easier to go a little feral for a while in order to cope? It's natural ghoul behavior anyway. Like, when stuff starts to builds up and he stresses out badly...he starts to show the signs - he gets bitchy, distant... but now, instead of falling into a deep depression or setting shit on fire he reverts to full mindless feral pit beast?

He wanders off naked, into the woods for a few days. He eats deer and birds and bugs and stuff, crawls around in the dirt for a while until it blows over and he feels better.

And at first, everyone's kind of like "Oh shit, Dew's gone feral!" But then they realize that it's actually better than him doing all of that self/property/relationship destructive stuff or actually hurting a sibling, so they just kind of let him go and do his thing? Because they know that it will run its course and he'll come back after a week or two.

Maybe the clergy sends out an abbey-wide email announcing that there's a" feral ghoul in forest B so stay out of there for a while until it leaves the vicinity". And they put up some warning signs so people don't go out on those trails or near where he's been spotted. Kind of like how they do it in Yellowstone park or something when there's a bear or a cougar spotted near a trail so people stay off of the trail.

Anyway, that's my thought!

Gremlin

#goneferal #feralasacopingmechanism

I am so into this! It's so much easier to just walk away sometimes. To just let all the shit he's been bottling up loose in his true form. Just letting go. Slipping free of humanity in order to get his head on straight again.

It happens a few times a year, before and after tours when he's the most stressed out. I like to think sometimes others join him. Mountain will slip into his true form and just sort of hang out with him at a safe distance if Dew will tolerate it. Sometimes Aether too. They check on him, mostly just making sure he hasn't hurt himself, or wandered too close to a town or anything. But mostly he's left alone, to his own devices, to work it out on his own.

Sometimes they'll get caught up in it with him. It feels good to let go. And yeah, Siblings definitely get periodic email updates. Stay away from the eastern swamps. Don't go into the southern pine grove.

He absolutely comes back covered in dirt and scratches, hair greasy. Eyes dull and exhausted. And docile. He lets himself be ushered into a bath. He's pliable, longing for attention, his voice soft and quiet from disuse.

He stays in his room for a few days after, sleeping it off, picking at the food the others bring him. But once the exhaustion is gone he's back to his normal self again. The whole thing is a little stressful for everyone, but far less stressful than when he used to throw tantrums in the abbey, so no one is about to ask him to stop.

#comet comments #dewdrop ghoul #headcanons #gremlin

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tenelkadjowrites · 1 year

Text

I Want You Back (Cassian Andor x Reader) - NSFW

💬 Summary: When your ex-boyfriend, Cassian Andor, stumbles to your apartment wounded, it brings back not only memories of your time together but a promise of something starting anew.

💬 Word count: 12.7k

💬 Genre & warnings: one shot smut. fem pronouns for reader. exes to lovers. mentions of blood and injuries. drinking. dirty talk (a LOT of it). reader is called sweetheart a couple of times and slut once. oral sex, reader receiving. unprotected sex. creampie.

💬 Tags: @thewonderofkpop - @obligatoryidolblog - @violetwinters - (I’m not doing my usual tag list for this fic given it’s in a different fandom than usual, you can lemme know if you want to be added for any future Star Wars fics)

You stare at the door, holding your breath, waiting. I might’ve dreamt it, you think but the way your heart is racing makes you believe otherwise. Your blaster is cold in your hands, a grim reminder of what you might have to do. The only source of light is leaking through the shuttered window in the living area. Your entire apartment complex is cramped and indoors; only artificial light can enter here.

The knocking comes again. It is heavy, more of a thud. Your chest is like ice, your legs moving forward before your brain can stop it. Living on the outskirts of the galaxy your entire life, you know how to handle your own but that doesn’t mean you derive any pleasure from doing so.

Your finger hovers over the trigger as your free hand slams down on the button to open the door. It glides open soundlessly –

“Cassian?” You blink in shock at the sight of someone you never thought you’d see again in your doorway.

He is slumped against the doorframe, one hand underneath his jacket. There is a sheen of sweat on his forehead, his hair stuck against his skin which has a sickly pallor. He looks as if he is crumbling underneath his own weight.

Cassian tries to smile but it looks forced and pained. “Did I wake you?”

“Uhm, yes. It’s the middle of the night,” You frown, whispering, “You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit. Can I come in?”

Even though he looks like hell, you hesitate. Maybe it is selfish but the last thing you feel like dealing with currently is your ex-boyfriend showing up in your new life, bringing in who knows what sort of hell with him. You had spent so long trying to forget him after things went to shit and now to find him right outside your apartment…

Cassian moves his hand out of his jacket and you can see his fingers are smeared with blood. It dawns on you only then that he is injured. The sight of the blood kicks you into gear from years of training.

“Hurry up before someone sees you,” The words are gruff and unpleasant but Cassian doesn’t seem to notice nor care because he lurches forward on the final bit of energy he has and is over the threshold.

Cassian slumps forward and you catch him quickly before he can strike the floor. The door seals behind him as your blaster drops to the floor when you take on his weight. He is familiar yet different; the weight of him sturdier than in the past, his frame harder, more stubble on his chin than you’ve seen before. It is like looking at a painting through water and trying to make out all the individual bits of what makes it feel so personal.

You manage to get Cassian successfully to the living room before his legs give out. He is splayed on the couch at an awkward angle which you have no time to adjust because you’ve scurried off to find your med kit.

After you told Cassian that the relationship didn’t work, that the chaos burning inside him without an outlet proved to be too exhausting for you, your mind had drifted to him often in the weeks that followed. You wondered what his life was like without you around, wondered if he was happier without you and if he regretted how things went.

It took a long time to get over him. And now here he was, bleeding all over your cramped and small living room in the middle of the night with no explanation – including how he knew that you lived here.

Returning to Cassian, you motion to the jacket that he still has on. “Come on, I can’t see your injury with the jacket.”

Cassian has managed to right himself in the short time you ducked out of the room. He is slumped on the couch, his head rolled back, breathing labored.

Still, he shifts enough to shrug out of his jacket which you take gingerly, making a mental note at how it has seen better days. His black shirt is wet on one side, stuck against his skin. You sit next to him, a twinge of anxiety hitting your chest. Cassian’s eyes are closed, and the sight of this brings back a storm of old memories, none of which you want to linger on.

“Do I even want to know what injured you?” Your voice wavers a little, betraying your nerves. Cassian would normally pick up on such a thing if he weren’t in his current state.

“No,” is all he mumbles.

Tentatively, you reach for his shirt, carefully peeling it upwards to expose the wound. It’s a gash, sticky with oozing blood, dark red smeared all over his abdomen. It isn’t the sight of the wound that sends your stomach churning; you work at the local clinic and have seen similar injuries more times than you can count. It is the fact it is on Cassian that makes anxiety bloom in your chest.

“I don’t have any equipment here and I don’t have any bacta. I can try to get you to the clinic –”

“No,” He rasps out and his hand reaches for yours. His skin is hot, too hot, and you realize he is feverish. “Too dangerous. Do what you can here.”

“Too dangerous? Cassian, what exactly were you doing before you got here? How did you even know where I lived?”

But his head has rolled back against the couch, eyes fluttering closed, too weak to reply. Knowing that you would get no answers now, all you can do is go to work on the wound and hope for the best. Exhaling slowly, you study Cassian’s face for a moment, your chest constricting. You hadn’t ever allowed yourself to think about what it would be like to see him again.

Your time with Cassian was a flurry, the sort of passion and romance that normally didn’t apply to your life. But there was a wildness with Cassian that at the same time meant it was impossible to pin him down. He had no desire for cozy nights in, always on the move as if there were a target on his back, running from his past and sidelining his future. Eventually, it grew more exhausting to deal with that versus the passion, sex and love you felt for him.

But that didn’t erase history nor did it erase your feelings for him. As you work, your mind flashes through a set of memories: seeing Cassian when you were introduced to him, the expression on his face when first kissing you, the way he’d slink into the apartment in the dead of night after doing universe knows what, how he would storm out in the morning when the two of you would fight again, the sex that would follow, only for the cycle to start again. Cassian seemed empty and even your love couldn’t fill it – a hard lesson to learn and one that ultimately ended with you leaving.

And now…

Well, now, it is up to you to make sure your ex-boyfriend makes it through the night.

At some point after patching Cassian up to the best of your ability, you doze off next to him. The next time your eyes open, you aren’t sure what time it is and for a split second, you can’t remember how you ended up on the couch.

But the sight of Cassian brings the memories flooding back, the adrenaline hitting as if you just drank some caf. To your relief, his breathing has steadied. Gingerly, you reach out to touch his forehead. He’s still a little too warm but not as feverish as a few hours ago. Your fingers linger there and you gently push some of his hair off his forehead, studying his face. You wish that there wasn’t this tidal wave of emotions when looking at him, no feelings of fondness, no memories to contend with.

Cassian stirs and your hand flies back to your lap. You hope he didn’t catch your moment of tenderness because you aren’t sure that he would let you live it down. You’re the one that left me, you could hear him say and it sounds so real in your head that you can feel yourself withdrawing.

He shifts slightly as his eyes open groggily. You are busying yourself with the medical kit, getting ready to change the bandage on the wound, knowing that it is a serious injury and needs a lot of tending to. You are aware of Cassian’s eyes on your back, a sensation so familiar that it makes a shiver roll down your spine.

“How are you feeling?” You ask curtly.

“Like shit,” He mumbles.

“You still have a fever. Here, you need another round of medication.” The glass of water is still on the table and you turn to face Cassian, thrusting it at him.

He reaches out and the tips of his fingers brush against your skin. The touch, so minor it is nothing, knocks your insides apart, your heart banging like a gong in your chest.

“I don’t remember…” He takes a swig of the water, stopping to get the medication from you and then takes another gulp, “Don’t remember much.”

“You showed up bleeding all over my front door. I need to change your bandage now.”

“Is it bad?”

“Well, you’re doing a better now than last night so I think you’ll live but the wound can still get infected and your fever hasn’t diminished as much as I would like.”

For some reason, you cannot bring yourself to look at Cassian directly. On top of that, examining him while he’s basically unconscious is one thing. But having him awake and semi-alert as you do so makes you jittery. Gingerly, you reach out, raising up his shirt just enough to expose the bandaged wound. You’re trying not to think about all the times you held onto him here when he fucked you, trying not to remember how he sounded when he was –

“Like old times, huh?”

Your thoughts shatter, quickly flicking your gaze upwards at his face. He’s teasing me, you think half in wonder and half in frustration. You were hoping for more time before Cassian brought up the past even with a small sentence like that.

“You mean when I’d patch you up after a bar fight?” You look away, back to tending to the wound, gently peeling the bandage off.

Cassian winces as it tugs at his skin while going, “Always wanted someone who could patch me up for free.”

“Old habits die hard,” You reply wryly, examining the injury closely although you can feel his eyes on you, “You going to explain how you knew where I lived? Or what happened to injure you like this?”

It still looks bad, you muse, disliking the shiny tautness of the skin around the wound. If only you had some bacta gel…but there is none in your apartment, having used it all up on a small child who got injured in the complex two weeks ago.

There is a pause as Cassian considers what to say. You know he is debating lying because the tiny bits of himself he allows others to see are not given freely. You once had access but in the passing of the years, you don’t know what he feels comfortable with anymore. Cassian is good at gambling, drinking, burying his feelings in the search for fun, in the search for something to blot out the burning in his heart that seemed to spill out of him in a rage against the universe. You have no clue if that’s changed, how much he’s changed, but when your gaze shifts to meet his, the silence seems to grow longer.

“It’s better if you don’t know,” He settles on, a finality in his tone that brokers no further conversation.

You never heeded the tone before and you won’t now. “Are you mixed up in something bad? You piss someone off?”

“I told you, it’s safer if you don’t know.”

“No, you said it’s better if I don’t know. Now you’re telling me that it’s safer.”

You are examining the wound, fingers touching his bare skin, still wishing for bacta gel. You aren’t convinced it isn’t going to get infected by the look of it. Cassian is quiet again. There is something more withdrawn about him now than before although you chalk it up to the breakup.

When he doesn’t reply, you go, “I should really get you down to the clinic and do some proper work on this injury. You still have a fever and I can’t tell if the wound is getting infected. On top of that, it could heal slowly, possibly leave a scar.”

“No,” The word comes out harsh and fast, “No, I’ll stay here.”

Narrowing your eyes, you ask, “Why? Why can’t you come to the clinic?”

“I came here for discretion. Not to be paraded through the town square to the clinic.”

“No one is parading you around, Cassian,” You frown, “What aren’t you telling me?”

“You can bring supplies from the clinic, can’t you? Or are there checkpoints? Will they question you about bringing things from the clinic?”

His tone is leaving you more confused than ever. There is an urgency and roughness to the questions that make you worry Cassian is in over his head although you can’t imagine what a security checkpoint would have to do with anything.

“Typically, no there aren’t checkpoints.”

“There might be today,” He says grimly, “I’ll wait for you.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” You demand yet again.

To your surprise, Cassian reaches out for your hand. He grips it tightly, sending a jolt through your skin that seems to sizzle. He is looking at you urgently and for a split second, you grow fearful that he has truly gotten in over his head.

“The less you know the better. Will you trust me on this? It’s for your safety.”

You want to argue that Cassian doesn’t get to decide what keeps you safe or not. But his eyes, those puppy dog eyes that have driven you around the bend more than once in both sex and arguments, brings you up short. Instead of fighting, you nod once indicating that the conversation is shelved…for now.

He relaxes, leaning back against the couch, eyes closing. His grip on your hand lessens, allowing you to go back to work on doing what you can to clean up the wound and change the bandages before you deem the work complete, standing up.

“I’ll head to the clinic now and come back as quickly as I can. I’m worried about infection settling in if I don’t get some bacta on it,” You grab your jacket, hurriedly getting ready, wondering how quickly you can make the trip.

Cassian says your name softly, drawing your attention. It is strange to see him on the couch; you never once thought that he would be in your new apartment. He has tugged his shirt back down, his skin still looking a little pale. For the first time it hits you that if he hadn’t come to your place last night, where would he have gone? It’s clear that he didn’t want to go to any sort of medical bay or even your clinic. If he wasn’t here, would he be dying in an alleyway somewhere? The thought leaves a bitter taste of fear in your mouth.

“Be careful,” is all he says before closing his eyes.

You give one last look at him and leave.

The walk to the clinic makes it immediately evident that there is something going on. There are imperial patrols on every street, the layer of fear across the city is like a thick cloak, and there are more security checkpoints than ever.

But how did Cassian know? The thought bangs around in your brain the entire walk to the clinic which takes double the amount of time it should. By the time you arrive, your nerves are on edge and you’re in no mood for small talk.

The clinic is quiet this late morning with just one medic on duty, patching up someone’s broken arm. The patient is complaining loudly when you enter.

“Asshole shoved me so hard that I toppled down the flight of stairs by the market. And did nothing about it, didn’t even stop to make sure I was okay! We get punished because some captives escaped?”

As you shrug out of your jacket and your coworker says hi, you say, “Who escaped?”

“You didn’t hear?” That patient’s tone is seething, “Where have you been all morning?”

“Asleep,” You reply curtly, not in the mood to bicker with a stranger, “I don’t work today, just forgot something here.”

Your coworker looks up from the man’s arm and explains, “Someone broke out that small group of rebels being held at the garrison up near the city entrance late last night. They were supposed to be transferred this morning but now they are just scattered to the wind.”

You are thankful that your back is to your coworker and the patient because your face is unable to mask the surprise as your stomach swoops.

Trying to keep your voice as neutral as possible, you reply, “We’re expected to believe just one person broke them out of the garrison?”

“Apparently.”

The patient makes a noise of disbelief. “No way the person survived. I heard they got him pretty good but he managed to limp out of there and they lost him in the city. He’s probably dying somewhere and they’ll find his body soon enough. He’s the reason these stormtroopers are all riled up, pushing people around and breaking my arm.”

“Please stay still so I can finish,” Your coworker sounds a little bitter, adding on, “Regardless of who broke them out, the rebels got away and now we have to deal with the repercussions.”

The blood rushing to your head is very loud. You take a steady breath, packing a few items in a small cloth bag and sneaking some more in the inside pockets of your jacket. If they know Cassian is wounded, these items might raise some red flags. You suddenly understand why Cassian couldn’t leave your apartment and why he told you to be careful.

“Alright, well, I got what I needed. Told myself I’d organize all my medical supplies at my place today and naturally I forgot some,” Your voice is casual as if the extra security and escaped rebels mean nothing to you.

“They’ll find the rebels soon enough. Where will they go without running into a blockade? I don’t think the person breaking them out had any sort of proper plan. Just wanted to stick it to the Empire.” The patient is still babbling and every word about Cassian is starting to make your clothing feel itchy against your skin.

Slipping your jacket back on, you smile blandly at your coworker. “I’ll be around more tomorrow.”

“Bye,” They reply, too focused on the fact the patient won’t keep still.

Leaving the room, you take a moment to collect yourself in the hallway. The idea of Cassian helping rebels escape, the same Cassian who seemed more likely to drink and gamble the night away, is a difficult one to wrap your head around. But there is no other explanation for him showing up injured on top of his secrecy.

You feel a flicker of anger in your chest that he has brought this situation upon you without your permission. You had been living quietly for all this time and now every moment with him around threatens to undo that. But what is the other option? Kicking him out to be caught by the Empire? No, you couldn’t do that, not to him of all people.

Exiting the building, you know that any strange expression on your face, any tension in your shoulders could spark a stormtrooper’s interest in you. Exhaling slowly, you try to keep your breathing steady as the walk home begins. You are hoping to look as nonchalant as possible, someone who is so used to imperial rule that you don’t really question the extra patrols or random security checks. A group of escaped rebels has nothing to do with you.

You are about five minutes from the apartment complex when a security checkpoint before the main entrance into the residential area pops into view. Cursing underneath your breath, you know that to turn around now would only catch their attention. The checkpoint hadn’t been there when you left.

Standing in line, you try to keep your face devoid of worry, coming up with your story about the medical supplies. They know Cassian is wounded. You think of the bacta gel hidden in your pockets. They’re going to question me.

When it is finally your turn, your heart is pounding and the palms of your hands are sweaty. Even so, you maintain an even tone when asked for your name.

One stormtrooper is running your credentials as another begins to search your bag.

“What do you need these for?” He asks, the helmet modulating his voice.

“I work at the clinic in the square,” You explain patiently, “I just keep some at home for emergencies and I like to replenish my supplies every few weeks.”

“Why?” He demands.

“Records are clean,” says the other stormtrooper.

“You never know when an emergency could hit. What if there is no possibility of getting to the clinic? All of us have our own kits in our places for times like that. We usually keep a small travel pack on us as well that needs replenishing.” You slip your hand into your inner jacket, pulling out the health kit from the pocket, hoping that it will be enough to stop them from poking around your pockets.

It is difficult to know what the stormtrooper is thinking as he studies the kit in the palm of your hand. You feel a little ill, unsure what to do if he wants to question you further. But the line behind you has grown as people are grumbling about the new checkpoint.

You want to keep talking but are aware that will only make you look as if there is something to hide. Remaining silent after your explanation, you wait.

“Records did say she works at the clinic,” The other stormtrooper remarks as if to prod things along.

Another moment passes. He’s not going to believe me, not with the timing –

“Fine, go.” He jerks his head towards the residential district.

You nod, making sure to keep the speed of your walk the same, putting your health kit back in your jacket. You can feel the stormtrooper’s gaze linger on you almost as if he regrets letting you pass. Something is tickling at his brain, some question he wants to ask, but it is obvious the other stormtrooper doesn’t see it as he does and wants to focus on the line forming instead.

Once you push past the doors, your shoulders slouch a little, your pace quickening. All you want to do is get back to your apartment. The fear that is hanging over the city today is much worse than usual. It is like the escape of the rebels is going to be made everyone’s problem.

The interior of the complex is flooded with the usual ugly, harsh lighting that your eyes have grown accustomed to. It has many floors, with the small apartments shoved close to one another to hold as many people as possible. The building is run down but overall clean. Every hallway is identical and it is a wonder Cassian stumbled around here and ended up at your place without being caught or reported.

You arrive at your apartment, stepping inside. You hear a familiar sound, immediately causing you to pull out the blaster hidden in one of your pockets, raising it –

Only to see it is Cassian with his own raised. He immediately relaxes upon seeing you.

“Are you trying to kill me?” You snap, your tension leaking out into your words as the door seals behind you.

“Had to make sure it was you.”

He is standing but his legs look wobbly. The entire trip couldn’t have taken more than an hour but he still doesn’t look well. Lowering the blaster, you hurry over to Cassian, ushering him back to the couch, plucking his own weapon from his hand.

Cassian slumps back onto the couch, wincing slightly as he sits, his hand going to his side. As you empty out the medical supplies, you cannot stop from biting out, “Were you going to tell me that you helped rebels escape? Or just bring this hell on me without any warning?”

Cassian is eyeing you carefully, weighing his words. You are frustrated, not only by the situation but this version of your ex that is brand new, doing things you never dreamt he could do.

Unable to stop yourself, the words tumble from your mouth. “Did you think I wouldn’t hear of it? Someone breaking out a bunch of rebels, getting wounded and losing stormtroopers in the city? Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out? There was a checkpoint before the residential district and I think it was only my clean record that got me through because the stormtrooper didn’t seem entirely convinced I needed these supplies just to restock.” Your hands are shaking, you realize, as one of the bacta gels tumble out of your hand and lands loudly on the table. “You just show up here – I haven’t heard from you in years and you think it’s okay to just – fuck, Cassian, did you think at all of what this was going to bring down on me?”

The last sentence makes his eyes blaze, leaning forward, his voice hot. “You think I wanted to show up here in the middle of the night? That I didn’t consider other options? I had nowhere else to go that would offer safety and someone to make sure I didn’t die in the street!”

“How did you even know I lived here?! What are you wrapped up in that you’re not telling me?!” Your voice is too loud – dimly, you are aware that it should be softer but your agitation is clouding your brain.

Cassian grits his teeth, his hand going to his wound, momentarily thrown off by a burst of pain. You sit down next to him, pulling the medical kit into your lap while gesturing to him wildly.

“Take off your shirt, I need to clean this out again. Properly this time,” You take a deep breath, lowering your voice, trying to collect yourself, “And as I do so, you’re going to explain everything going on.”

Cassian goes to pull his shirt off but when he lifts up his arm with the wounded side, he winces, inhaling sharply through his teeth. You reach out, helping him remove it, refusing to let your brain bring back memories of late nights involving the same motion for very different reasons.

Even so, the sight of Cassian shirtless leaves you briefly flustered and then surprised at the various markings along his arm, some along his abdomen that you hadn’t noticed in the hustle and bustle of tending to the injury prior. A lot of injuries, a lot of scars, a lot of stories here that started after I left. Who is this man in front of you? It no longer feels like your ex at all.

He is looking at you steadily, watching your expression change as you take in the sight of him before he finally says, “You already know the answer to everything you’re wondering.”

“Do you know how dangerous it is?”

“I do.”

“You’re lucky that you didn’t die last night. To break into the garrison like that and come out alive…”

“Because of you,” He shifts slightly, just enough so that he is angled towards you. “I had no plans to see you. I just knew your location as a final emergency plan. I didn’t think I’d use it.”

You want to ask more – how Cassian got swept up in working for the rebellion, why he did so, how much danger is he in regularly – but all the questions seem pointless. Cassian had always been restless, running from the past, ignoring the future. Maybe he just figured out that it was time to stop running. Perhaps it is selfish against the greater cause but you wish he decided to stop running and become a moisture farmer or something instead of a rebel spy leaping into dangerous situations.

Cassian’s voice is soft but firm as he continues speaking, “There were a few more guards at the garrison than our intel originally said. By the time I lost them, I knew I was too injured to go to the rendezvous point. You were the closest person I could get medical assistance from. I didn’t intend to put you in danger or pull you into anything.”

“I know,” You mumble, leaning forward to begin working on his injury, “I just was scared from the checkpoint.”

“I didn’t think they would tighten security so hard.”

“They think you’re still in the city and that you’re dying in a ditch somewhere, easy to find and finish off. Let’s just hope they don’t figure out your identity because they’ll come knocking here first thing.”

Cassian chews on this silently. For a little while there is no noise other than you cleaning out the injury carefully, smearing a goop of bacta gel on top of it and watching it do its work. You feel a tingle of relief knowing that Cassian will recover now without the worry of infection.

“That was a nasty wound,” You remark to finally break the silence, “What happened? Didn’t look like just a blaster bullet.”

“Got nicked by a blaster and then lost my footing, slammed into something sharp, don’t know what it was. Things were a little too frantic to tell and my vision went white. Rest of that is a blur,” He hesitates, “I barely remember making the conscious decision to come here.”

“Old habits die hard, right?” You quote from the morning.

The corners of Cassian’s mouth twist upwards for a moment in an almost smile. “You always were good at patching me up.”

Your cheeks grow warm, much to your embarrassment. Still, you brush the comment off by going, “Well, this was a little more complicated than any of your silly bar fights.”

“Even so, you still took care of it.”

His tone sounds serious now and unable to help yourself, you look at him. It is strange being this close to Cassian again and the fact he is shirtless now truly hits you. All the memories you attempted to fend off come flooding back – the times you’d be in his lap, your fingers grazing along his shoulders, his lips on your neck, his hands pressing against your lower back as he would talk dirty. No one ever quite spoke as filthy as Cassian did, no one could ever make you finish just from talking to you in the manner he did.

But that was the old Cassian, the one who wasn’t working for the rebellion, the one who was in love with you.

“Well, if I ever show up at your doorstep wounded, I expect the same treatment.”

This time he does actually laugh a little, that familiar twinkle in his eyes making your stomach twist. “I don’t think you’d want that. You and I both know my hands aren’t good for that sort of thing.”

The comment knocks the wind out of you. Is Cassian flirting? Or is he simply deflecting? It is difficult to know what he means by such a thing. All you know for sure is that it makes your heart skip a beat and you hate that it does.

“Well, the bacta gel should help a lot, on top of rest and medication. Hope you don’t have any plans because you’re going to be here for a few days.” You stand up, eager to remove yourself from the close proximity of him.

“By that time, they’ll figure I escaped the city and will ease restrictions enough I can slip out.”

“What happened to the others? None have been recaptured.”

“I got confirmation they made it to the rendezvous point. I was the only one who didn’t,” Cassian looks a little awkward before adding, “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable and I’m sorry if I am while staying here.”

“I won’t lie, it is…different having you back, Cass,” The old nickname slips out and you curse inwardly, “It isn’t as if we’ve been talking since things ended. But I’m not going to kick you out in the street to get snatched up by the Empire either.”

He looks relieved. “I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well…” You trail off, not knowing what to say, “You should get some sleep. It’ll help you heal.”

Cassian nods, stretching out on the couch. He doesn’t even ask for a blanket which only makes you wonder what sort of sleeping conditions he’s had over the past few years. “Good idea.”

You turn around to head into your room, digging around for a few seconds before pulling an old blanket out of a drawer. But by the time you come back to Cassian, he is fast asleep. Clearly, the injury is still taking it’s toll on him.

Standing awkwardly in the living room, the fabric of the blanket soft against your fingers, you stare at your ex on the couch. He hadn’t put his shirt back on and his pants are riding low on his hips. Visually arrested by the sight, you are aware that you’re staring. But your feet are rooted to the spot. How many times have you seen Cassian sleep like this? Hundreds, surely.

But Cassian is different now; physically he is in better shape with scars across his skin and mentally he is more focused and driven on something you didn’t think he’d ever topple into. There is no crossing the living room and waking him up with kisses, not anymore.

Quietly, you place the blanket on the table next to Cassian and go to your room, needing some space from him and the memories.

The next three days involve you trying to spend as little time around Cassian as possible. You spend long hours at the clinic, checking on Cassian before your shift and before bed. Conversations are to a minimum, time with him as short as possible because you grow fearful that the memories are going to blur your present. Your time with him is done and finished. There is no going back, especially now that Cassian is swept up in the rebellion.

One of the driving factors of leaving him was that you needed some sort of emotional stability with the person you’re with. Cassian, with the fire burning in his chest and no focus for it, proved to be too chaotic of a fit for what you wanted. There would be no such emotional stability with Cassian, a hard truth to swallow.

That’s what you tell yourself every night before going to sleep anyway. In the late nights where you can hear Cassian unable to sleep, occasionally caving and watching one of the holos you have, your mind wanders to memories and a warm desire in between your legs. You wish that your body still didn’t respond to the way he looked at you or that just the casual way he hands you a cup of caf in the morning didn’t remind you of all the previous ones spent together.

To make matters worse, you are positive that the amount of anguish Cassian is experiencing from being around you is close to zero. Sure, it was evident the first day or so that he felt a little awkward. But now, he acted at ease in every conversation.

Of course, Cassian had always been an excellent liar, something that would have been honed if he was running around with the rebellion.

All you knew was that if you had to see him shirtless one more time, you might actually lose it.

“It’s healing well and your mobility has improved a lot,” You say one evening, after a twelve hour shift at the clinic, “In a couple of days, you should be good to go. Well, ‘good to go’ as in mostly recovered, not walk out right into a group of stormtroopers.”

Cassian moves his arm a little, leaving you thankful that his shirt is on for this checkup. He then tugs down his shirt to cover the injury. “How is it out there?”

“Loosening up, going back to the regular number of patrols. Give it a day or two and I think they’ll be shifting to scour outside the city for you. There are rumors you escaped,” You hesitate and then ask, “Where are you going to go?”

“It’s better for you not to know. You already know more than I am comfortable with in regards to your safety.” He stands up, moving towards the tiny kitchen.

You bite down hard on your bottom lip, swallowing all the other questions you want to ask. His logic makes sense but suddenly the idea of Cassian vanishing into the void makes you feel…well, you aren’t sure.

Cassian rummaging around in the kitchen draws you out of your thoughts, going to join him. “Can I ask why you’re going through my kitchen?”

“Was looking for, ah, here it is,” He pulls out a bottle of whiskey that you didn’t even remember buying, “Looking for some sort of alcohol. Although I didn’t think you’d own this.”

“You’re drinking?”

“Sure,” He replies, “Where are your glasses?”

Clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, you push past him, getting a couple. He arches one eyebrow slightly at the sight of two.

“You never liked whiskey.” He shakes the bottle a little, looking perplexed.

“That was over five years ago. Things change.” Your tone is pointed.

His gaze lingers on your face for a few seconds before going, “I suppose they do.”

And Cassian pours the whiskey into both glasses.

Three hours later, you are very drunk.

One drink led to another, loosening the awkward feeling around Cassian into one of familiarity. The alcohol wiped clean the fact Cassian now worked with the rebellion, wiped out the fear of hiding him in your apartment, wiped out even the breakup five years ago.

At some point during the drinking, you’ve ended up on the floor with your back against the couch. Cassian is next to you, one hand around his whiskey glass although he is slumped forward a little from laughing too hard. Your body is warm all over, a combination of the booze and being next to him.

“Why are you laughing?” You demand even though you’re laughing as well.

“Because the look on your face when I lied to the shopkeeper – I still see it so clearly,” Cassian manages to say in between laughing at the memory of some random drunken incident from a long time ago.

“You’re supposed to let me in on the lies not allow me to walk right into them,” You scold before taking another sip of the whiskey which burns on the way down.

Cassian rubs his eyes to wipe the tears that formed from laughing for too long and looks at you. “You’re right, you’re right,” He pauses for a moment and adds, “I guess I broke that rule again, didn’t I?”

“Yes!” You sit up straighter, ready to lecture him, “You should’ve told me!”

“I didn’t exactly have a lot of time to,” He points out although the edges of his words are slurred from too much drinking, “The whole…injury and fever.”

You nudge him with your shoulder, “The next morning then. Before I went to the clinic.”

“I was afraid about the checkpoints,” The earlier laughter from his voice is gone, and he looks serious now, “It was safer for you not to know much.”

Logically, you know Cassian is right. But you’re too drunk for logic. “I figured I was shut out of things. Of knowing things about your life. Because of what happened between us.”

Had you moved closer to Cassian or had he moved closer to you? Things were difficult to keep straight while clouded with this much booze. Either way, the two of you are close now, as close as possible without touching. You can see the stubble grazing his jawline, the tension in his shoulders that he still carries even now, the way his hair curls slightly against the back of his neck. All familiar, all off limits.

“No,” Cassian’s voice has dropped to a whisper, “You’re not shut out of things. I just didn’t want you in danger.”

“But you’re in danger,” Your words are mushy in your mouth, difficult to get out, “You’re the one going against the Empire.”

“I chose that. I didn’t want to bring you into something without you deciding if it was wanted.”

“We don’t get a choice with the Empire,” You mumble, “Either we go along with the tide to make it easier on ourselves or we try to swim against it. But the Empire in our lives isn’t a choice. It just is.”

You have no idea if what you said makes any sense. But Cassian’s gaze grows troubled. He moves slightly and his hand that was on the floor suddenly touches yours. His skin is warm to the touch and before you can stop yourself, you curl your fingers around his hand.

“You should come with me,” He says so quietly that you have to lean even closer to make out the words, “We need medics. We need people like you.”

“I’m not cut out for that sort of thing, Cass.”

“Yes, you are,” He says firmly.

“Besides, what would that mean? Being around you all the time?” The words flow too easily, loosened by the whiskey, “Seeing you all the time?”

His thumb is grazing the top of your hand now. The small touch is making your head light. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted Cassian more than you have at this moment. But you have no right to him. He is not a part of your life any longer.

“Would that be so bad?” He teases, his voice dropping an octave.

The tone is reminiscent, too reminiscent of what Cassian would sound like before he kissed you. Your body is screaming for him. All thoughts of rebellion and the Empire are washed away with the pure desire that is overwhelming your senses.

Your foreheads are practically touching, lips so close that it would be simple to kiss him. Fucking Cassian had always been the best sex of your life. He knew exactly what you liked, knew exactly how to get you off and fuck, he had a mouth on him that would –

Cassian suddenly pulls away, giving a small shake of his head as if breaking the surface of the water. Shocked, you remain frozen in place, wondering what just happened.

“We’ve both been drinking,” He says in a shaky voice, “We both aren’t thinking clearly.”

You feel wounded at the rejection, your feelings hurt even if a tiny sober part of you is trying to yell that Cassian is correct in neither one of you thinking clearly.

But you refuse to let him know the impact almost kissing him had on you nor the sting of rejection. Pulling your hand away from his, you try to breezily say, “True. I don’t think I’m cut out for the rebellion but I appreciate the sales pitch.”

On wobbly legs, you manage to stand, looking down at Cassian. There is an expression behind his beautiful eyes that you cannot make out but your brain is too hazy to do so anyway.

“I should get some sleep. Goodnight, Cass.”

Cassian, for once, doesn’t have any witty retort or casual goodnight. You leave in silence, wanting nothing more than to have him again but knowing he doesn’t want the same.

In the harsh morning light, you want to hide under the blankets forever given your memory of the night before. The drunken camaraderie had been one thing, even Cassian discussing the rebellion with you was understandable but the almost kiss…

You’re standing under the hot water of the shower, letting it run over your skin in an attempt to batter your headache away. You weren’t scheduled for a shift at the clinic today and Cassian could not yet leave. You don’t know how to spend an entire day around him. You could come up with an excuse to head out for the day but the idea of dodging stormtroopers and dealing with that anxiety doesn’t seem ideal either.

By the time you’re out of the shower, mostly dry and changed in clean clothes, you’re dying for some caf. Taking a deep breath, you step out of your room. Cassian is in the kitchen, his hair mussy from sleep, looking over in your direction sleepily.

“Did you just wake up?” You ask.

He nods, stifling a yawn. “I think I feel well enough to use your shower, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I was making some caf,” He presses the button to turn the machine on, “I haven’t drank that much in ages.”

“Me either and now I remember why I stopped,” You rub your forehead, wishing to be rid of the headache.

Cassian seems to hesitant for a moment before changing his mind on whatever he planned on saying, instead going, “I’ll take that shower now.”

He walks by you quickly, almost as if he is scurrying. Could it be he’s embarrassed about last night? Surely not. More than likely, he is embarrassed for you and the fact you almost kissed your ex. Grabbing a mug, you get the caf, standing by the counter and losing yourself in thoughts of Cassian, the past and how he could still elicit such a reaction out of you.

You aren’t sure how long your mind wanders because the next second, Cassian calls out from your bedroom, “Do you have any clothes I could borrow that might fit me?”

“Maybe in the bottom right drawer? I don’t know,” You reply.

There is some rummaging around in your room and then a few minutes later he comes out. The sight of him makes you laugh and he looks perturbed.

“Don’t,” He warns.

“The pajama bottoms are okay but that shirt is way too small for you.”

Cassian looks down at himself. The shirt is probably two sizes too small, sticking to him like a second skin, showing off his toned chest in a manner that would be districting if he didn’t look so ridiculous. He scowls, crossing the room to get some caf.

“I didn’t pack any overnight clothes for the breakout, silly me,” He mumbles.

“We can clean your little rebellion uniform today so you’re not wearing that all day.”

Cassian’s hair is still wet from the shower, his back to you as he drinks his caf. He makes a noise of irritation and rolls his shoulders uncomfortably which only shows off his muscles.

“Forget it,” He finally says to himself and then begins to try to remove the too tight shirt off him.

He manages to get it successfully almost over his shoulders before it is too tight to fully yank off. Even though Cassian being stuck in the shirt is funny, you grow concerned about him opening his wound and go over to help. Reaching up, you successfully pull the shirt off.

“I’ll just wait until my clothes are cleaned,” He says with an annoyed shake of his head.

You are holding the shirt in your hands, trying not to stare at him casually drinking caf in your kitchen while shirtless. You couldn’t handle Cassian drunk, you couldn’t handle him sober – and you had been the one to end the relationship, for fucks sake.

Maybe you are giving off an awkward energy or something because he glances over at you, back at his mug and then back at you. He then puts the mug down with a heavy thunk, moving in your direction.

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing.”

“You keep looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Cassian is close to you now but this time you’re both sober. You are clenching the shirt in your hands so tightly that you worry about tearing the fabric. Cassian’s chest, covered in large and small scars, tell a story that you have no knowledge of, indisputable proof of the passage of time you play no part in – but the worst part is that you find yourself wanting to know all the stories.

Cassian places one hand on either side of you, gripping the counter. The warmth of his body and seeing him shirtless seems to spark an awakening once more in your body. Your thighs clench and the shirt in your hands becomes some sort of shield between the two of you.

“Like you detest me being here but also can’t stop thinking about me,” He says gruffly, his eyes dropping to look at your lips, his eyelashes wet smears against his skin.

“That’s not true,” You lie weakly.

“Is that why you wanted to kiss me last night?” He says ruthlessly.

You want to melt into the floor and are momentarily struck silent. You don’t know how to respond because your desire for him is blocking out all rational thought. You desperately want to touch Cassian, just to feel his skin underneath your hands, to have his lips on yours once again.

He keeps going, “But you’re the one that ended things, remember?”

“I remember,” You try to make your voice like stone but it sounds frail to your ears, “Don’t act like I don’t remember. You make it sound as if the choice were easy for me, as if it didn’t eat me up inside.”

Cassian leans forward, still not touching you. You think that he is going to discuss the breakup further, talk about how painful it was and how it felt to end things after all the ups and downs.

Instead, as his lips hover just above your ear, he whispers, “Tell me, has anyone fucked you as good as I did since we broke up?”

Your eyes close tightly, your pussy growing wet. His impact on you is dizzying. You hadn’t realized just what he could do to you until after things ended and you slept with others. None had been like Cassian.

“Have any of them figured out what makes you tick? Did any of them realize what really gets you off is a dirty mouth?” His lilting accent mixed with his own desire is enough to make you crumble and beg for him.

“Cass, I…” You swallow hard, trying your best to form a sentence.

“I could hear you tossing and turning last night,” His voice is still a whisper, “Were you remembering all the times I fucked you? All the times I used my mouth to make you cum?”

You’re so turned on that it is impossible to think clearly. Cassian has always used his clever mind to come up with the most filthy dirty talk anyone has ever spoken to you, something that no one has even been able to live up against. You just had assumed that you never would hear him talk like this again.

You manage to wrangle enough brainpower to go, “You wanted to kiss me last night too, didn’t you? That’s why you’re trying to fuck me right now.”

Cassian moves away from your ear. For a second, you wonder if you’ve pushed things too far – hilarious, given the way he is talking to you – but the expression on his face shows otherwise. He is looking at you with pure lust, those gorgeous brown eyes of his so familiar in the way they study your face. His hair is drying slowly, forming those small curls that you’ve grabbed ahold of when he would go down on you.

Yes, the universe knows that you broke up with Cassian. But would it be so wrong to throw that out the window for the day and fuck him?

“You broke up with me, remember?” He repeats carefully, studying your face, “I never stopped wanting you.”

With that declaration, you throw caution out the window, bringing your arms around his neck to pull him in to kiss you. Your lips crush against his as your fingers go to his wet hair, giving it a sharp tug. Cassian groans in your mouth, a sound so familiar that it threatens to devour your head entirely with passion. Your skin is tingling, each nerve in your body awake from a long sleep without him.

You love the taste of him in your mouth and the way his hands press on your lower back so that you are pushed against him. You can feel his desperation, echoing past times of kissing like this. But there is something a little different in Cassian’s kisses now – an edge that speaks to the sort of life he lives now. Danger at every corner, unsure of what the next morning would bring, and how to deal with whatever happens – it shows through his kisses that now have an urgency and wild undercurrent to them.

The two of you are stumbling towards the bedroom, the caf forgotten. Cassian pulls off your shirt and it lands somewhere in the living room. He is stiff against your thigh as he kisses you again, nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth. The back of your legs strike your bed frame and you lose your footing, landing on the bed.

Cassian doesn’t waste any time, undressing you until you’re just in a flimsy pair of underwear. His lips drag against every inch of your skin, his hands electric against your body. He bites down on one your nipples just to make you gasp.

“You remember the one night you wore that tiny dress at the cantina and teased me for hours?” He says as he fondles your tits, his thumbs grazing your nipples.

You did. You thought Cassian was going to bring you home and fuck the hell out of you which is not…exactly what happened.

He keeps going, “And by the end of the night, you were the one begging for me to fuck you.”

Cassian is pulling your underwear off now, tossing them over his shoulder and gently spreading your legs apart. You remember quite clearly how the night went and what he did –

“What did I tell you when we got home that night?” He prompts and when you open your mouth to reply, he talks along with you, “I said I could make you cum with two licks of my tongue against your clit. And I did, didn’t I?”

The memory makes your cheeks hot. At the time, you thought it was typical Cassian bravado. But your orgasm had been so intense that you didn’t doubt he could do such a thing again now.

His hands are rubbing your thighs, very slowly as if there is all the time in the world now to talk to you. “I’ve improved since then so…I think I can make you cum with one lick.”

You scoff, unable to help your bewilderment. “That’s ridiculous even for you.”

Cassian’s grin is so fast that you may have imagined it if you didn’t know him like you do. He straightens up, keeping his hands on your knees so that you’re spread in front of him. His hair is a little messy from the way you grabbed it during all the kissing, his broad shoulders and well toned chest enough to make you want to beg for him just to skip to fucking you.

But you know that he would never do such a thing because he derives too much pleasure in watching you squirm underneath him, too much pleasure in running his mouth off.

“Is that so?” He asks, “Because unless you’ve changed a lot in the past few years, I know that all you need is me talking to get you to cum.”

You don’t reply because what is there to refute? Cassian had always been able to get you off the hardest when he talked dirty, seemingly knowing every word that pressed your buttons the most and made you cum the strongest. No one else figured that out – fuck, you weren’t even aware of it yourself until dating him.

And you’d be lying if you didn’t admit how much it was missed.

“Your pussy is still as pretty as I remember it,” He says almost affectionally, “I wonder if it will still feel as good wrapped around my cock. I used to love when you’d sit in my lap with my cock buried in your hole, remember that?” You breath catches at the memory: the way you would rock your hips against him as his fingers would trail down across your back until neither one could wait any longer and you’d start bouncing in his lap.

Cassian is thinking of that too judging by the way he runs one finger down along your inner thigh, watching the way you shiver. “You know what makes your pussy look even prettier?” He doesn’t wait for your answer. “When it’s filled with my load, leaking my cum. And it always did, didn’t it? Because I made sure to fill up your pretty pussy every time you begged for it.”

It’s striking you just how much you missed Cassian talking in this manner. You realize belatedly that you’d been looking for a lover to talk dirty like this in the years since the breakup but it isn’t just the words that mattered – you wanted Cassian.

You weren’t aware that you’ve been squirming until he goes, “This is difficult for me too, sweetheart,” The pet name he always used for you in bed rolls off his tongue so smoothly that you don’t think he even notices, “Do you think it’s easy for me seeing your pussy this wet for me and I can’t bury my face in it? It punishes me as much as you.”

He isn’t lying. Cassian is partial to eating pussy, another benefit to having dated him, and yet another thing missing from lovers that came afterwards. In fact, being with him again like this is starting to blur out all the very valid reasons the relationship didn’t work out, leaving you wondering why in the universe you thought breaking up with Cassian had been a good idea.

“And you know there’s nothing more I love than worshiping your pretty pink hole,” Cassian goes on, his fingers moving in slow, soft circles against your thighs. “Don’t worry, I remember all the buttons to press with you. I know the way you like to be spoken to and the way you like to be fucked best – soft and slow, right? With me on top, pressing against you as I pump my cock in your tight cunt while I whisper in your ear.”

You can hardly stand the way his tongue isn’t against your clit right now. Every inch of your body is screaming for more alongside all the memories of fucking him. Cassian’s index finger moves tantalizingly close to your clit but he stops just above. His gaze flicks upwards to look at you squirming with one hand clutching the quilt to steady yourself.

“Did you miss me?” He suddenly asks, his fingers resuming their soft trail against your skin, away from your pussy, “Did you think of me, even for a moment, when you fucked someone else?”

It’s unfair of him to ask such questions when your mind is in a fog and you can’t come up with something clever to say.

“I know I probably shouldn’t admit this,” His voice hangs in the air, dangling a confession in front of you, “But I’ve thought of you. I’ve never known anyone’s body like I’ve known yours and I don’t think I will again.”

Cassian’s grip on your thighs tighten, keeping your legs spread. His eyes look like dark clouds on the horizon, a mingle of lust and memories. Your own brain is swirling, wanting more of him, remembering how it used to feel with his cock fully inside you as he rocked his hips.

“I don’t think I’ll ever meet someone else who has a pussy made for me,” He is lowering his face towards your cunt now, his voice even as though he is completely confident in making you cum, “Someone who is my perfect little slut.”

The use of slut sends a shiver through your body immediately. Cassian has always used the word sparingly because it always drives the biggest reaction out of you, your body responding to the usage of the word in dirty talk before your mind can even wrap around it. He wouldn’t devalue the power it has to turn you on by overusing it and since it had been years, the impact of the word makes you gasp –

And Cassian immediately lowers his head, his tongue flat against your swollen clit, giving one hard flick against it. The dirty talk, the use of slut and his tongue has you climaxing immediately in one loud moan. Your back arches, your pussy against Cassian’s face as you cum. Your thighs shake, your eyes closing tightly as his name tumbles from your lips.

It would be impossible for anyone but Cassian to work you up with his words so much that he could make you finish like this. The orgasm is the strongest you’ve had in ages, perhaps since the last time you were with him. It blots out everything but Cassian and when your hips fall back onto the bed, he is looking particularly pleased with himself.

You prop yourself up a little to look at him. Your entire body is tingling as the orgasm fades. Cassian, with his broad shoulders, tanned skin and toned chest, looks better than you can ever recall. Instead of sating your desire, the orgasm only has made you want him more.

He smiles slowly, crawling forward, bringing his body against yours as he speaks, “Well, look at that. I guess I can make you finish with just one lick.”

He kisses you before a reply can be uttered. You can taste yourself on his lips. His stiff cock strains against the pajama bottoms he is still wearing. You are fumbling with the top of them, trying to pull them off. He laughs against your mouth but kicks them and his boxers off swiftly.

Languidly, Cassian brings his body back against yours. Skin to skin like this with him makes your head swim. Your heart is racing, fingertips skirting along his back, feeling the difference in his skin from the years that passed. Your fingers touch bumps and indents in the skin that weren’t there previously, a landscape of time marked on his skin.

When his lips find yours yet again, his tongue in your mouth, his stubble grazes against your skin. You’ve detested the sensation on everyone but Cassian – he was always the exception to everything. Instinctively, you curl your legs around his waist. His cock is at your entrance now. You know how he is going to fuck you – in the slow, soft quiet way he would fuck you after an argument where his voice would once again lull you to an orgasm.

Cassian enters you slowly, allowing you to feel each inch of his girth fill up your hole. You squeeze around his length automatically and his breath catches. When he is finally fully inside, the kiss breaks as he brings his arms underneath your back. His hands grip the sheets near your head. There is not a spot between the two of you that isn’t touching.

Cassian leaves a trail of kisses along your jawline, stopping to tug gently on your earlobe with his teeth. He has not moved yet, remaining still inside you. You luxuriate in the sensation of having Cassian again. Your hands are resting on his broad shoulders, eyes closed with pleasure.

Cassian moves his hips so slightly that if you hadn’t done this with him a thousand times before you wouldn’t have noticed. But the touch is like fire rolling through you – the most wonderful fire possible. You know that you’re whimpering but Cassian has always loved your small noises of pleading.

In a soft, deep voice, Cassian begins to speak honeyed words in your ear, “You remember that week we ran off to Canto Bight? We didn’t tell anyone where we were going, just left.”

You do remember. It was a year or so into the relationship. Hazy with love for one another, there had been no planning involved. Life kept getting in the way and you only wanted Cassian. The week was a blur of gambling, drinking and sex. The memory was something that belonged to a holo, not your own life.

Cassian is still very slowly moving his hips. He isn’t fully thrusting, just making small movements, enough to begin to work you up. His own breathing is shaky as he tries to control himself from pounding into you.

“I remember fucking you in front of the window of the hotel room. Twenty floors up and you didn’t care who saw you,” He goes on in a taunt voice, knowing full well that you love nothing more than being fucked like this, listening to him whisper in your ear, “You had just the necklace I bought you on, draped across your tits.”

“I remember,” You gasp out, eyes fluttering closed at the memory.

“When I came, it was all over your stomach so if anyone was watching they could see you covered in my cum.” Cassian moves a little faster now, fully pulling out of your cunt before lowering his hips to go all the way back in. The slow and deliberate pace is making you squirm against him but he doesn’t alter it.

“And every morning before we left the room, I’d bend you over and fuck you in the shower,” He continues relentlessly, “I’d watch your tight hole swallow up my cock until I’d empty my balls in you. That was my favourite trip, you know.”

You whimper, thighs clenching at the memory. It doesn’t matter how much you wiggle against him, Cassian refuses to change his speed. He knows how to make you cum better than you do.

“Do you remember when I’d cum inside you and then you’d dip your fingers in your cunt to make sure it didn’t leak out? Your pussy always looked the best like that, covered in my load which you smeared across your fingers,” His voice catches at the very end as he goes hip to hip with you, his cock buried in your pussy.

Your hands find his hair, tugging on it anxiously. You attempt to lift your hips upwards to try to meet his movements, a silent plea for more but Cassian brings his own hips downward. You groan at the sensation, your breathing ragged.

“You look the prettiest when you’re fucked out from me,” He continues as if you aren’t begging. But this is how it always goes with Cassian. The fact he refuses to give you what is so desired makes the entire interaction hotter. “When you’re too fucked out to move afterwards, when all you can do is hold onto me and fall asleep,” He moves a little faster now, “Or maybe you look the prettiest when my cock is in your mouth and you’re looking up at me with your beautiful eyes. I love your lips stretched out around my cock, you drooling all over it as you suck me off.”

“Cass,” The name comes out like a broken plea, your fingernails gliding down his back, sure to leave some light scratches, “Cass,” You whine again.

�� He ignores your begging. His cock moves in and out of your cunt easily because you’re dripping wet for him. You can feel how slick your pussy is when Cassian pulls out all the way and slips back inside, his cock covered in your wetness.

“I’ve missed hearing you plead for me,” He admits, his breathing uneven, “Let me hear you say my name again.”

“Cass – just fuck me, I need – I gotta cum.”

He smirks against your skin, replying, “You just came, sweetheart, you can’t wait a little bit longer?”

You know all too well Cassian can hold off on his own orgasm just to make you wait longer for your own. But the earlier climax has only made you desperately need another, one where he is fucking you and cumming inside your pussy.

“Cass, I can’t wait,” You know that you’re not furthering your cause but your need for him to fuck you into the mattress is too strong, “Just fuck me hard, please.”

Maybe it is that so much time has passed since the last time you slept with him. Perhaps Cassian is just lost in the memories of your time together and he is feeling a little soft. Regardless of the reason, he begins to adjust his position, sending relief through you. Propping himself up above you, with a hand gripping the bedsheets next to each side of your head, he studies you beneath him.

Normally, Cassian never caves. He would keep at his slow pace until you finish. But whether it’s the years or desire, for the first time he submits.

With a jerk of his hips, he drives his cock in your cunt and then doesn’t stop. The entire time his eyes don’t leave your face, studying your ever changing expressions to figure out what speed makes you feel the best. His own breathing is growing ragged from having held back his own orgasm for so long. As he fucks you hard and fast, the bed frame rattling from the sheer force of it, your head rolls back as a long moan of his name escapes from in between your lips.

You are cumming again, raising your hips to meet his thrusts as your pussy tightens around his girth. Cassian gasps and shivers but is still holding back, making sure that you ride out your climax. As you finish, he lowers himself down, curling around your body as he pumps his hips steadily.

“I’m going –” His voice catches, “Fuck, take my load, sweetheart.”

Cassian grunts, spilling out in your pussy. He always came a lot and this time is no exception. You can feel his hot load filling you up as he buries his face in your neck, breathing shakily. You love how it feels to have him finishing in your cunt again and your hands go to his ass, gripping it hard to make sure he stays inside you until he finishes completely.

Afterwards, Cassian pulls out and rolls onto his back next to you, panting. He runs his hand through his hair, eyes closed tightly. You know that you’re leaking his cum and from the two intense orgasms you’ve had, all you can do is lay there and try to collect yourself.

The day just started and it felt as if you could sleep it away.

But the question of what happens now still lingers at your brain.

“And that one?”

Cassian glances down at the top of his shoulder, squinting. “Blaster bolt grazed me… I think.”

“You think?”

“Some of it just…blurs together,” He gives a casual shrug.

The answer as to what happens now ended up being spending the entire day in bed, lazily switching between talking about the past few years and fucking. As evening descends, you are in Cassian’s lap in the living room after having successfully left the bedroom to eat dinner.

Half dressed in his lap, while Cassian is once again shirtless, you are running your fingers across the various scars and marks on his chest. His own hands have wiggled under your long shirt, touching the bare skin of your lower back.

Playfully, you point to the bandage on his side. “That one?”

“Oh, that one? Prison breakout. Going to leave a nasty scar, that one. I don’t think the medic knew exactly how to deal with it.”

“Hey!” You protest although you are giggling.

Cassian smiles, his gaze softening at your expression. He brings one hand upwards to cup your cheek and your laughter dies in your throat as the questions you’ve been avoiding since first fucking him in the morning come bubbling to the surface.

“What now?” You cannot help but ask, “You just leave once it’s safe?”

“Come with me,” He says, “I meant what I said earlier. The rebellion needs medics.”

“I’m not cut out for the rebellion, Cass.”

“If I am, then you certainly are,” He pauses for a second and adds on, “It isn’t just the rebellion who needs medics. I want you back.”

You blink in surprise at his forthcoming nature, unsure how to respond.

He goes on in a clear tone, “I know why we broke up. I get why you ended things. But I’m not like that now. I have something I’m focused on, something that is important to me, something my energy goes into. It isn’t like before…I’m not like I was before. Give me a chance to show you that. Come with me when I leave here.”

Your heart is beating quickly at his serious stare. “You’re asking a lot,” You finally manage to say.

“I know. But I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important to me.”

You know it is a risk and you have no idea how it will play out. But Cassian is correct in that he isn’t the same person he was when you first ended the relationship and this time around him showed you that deep down in your heart you still longed for him.

On top of that, you also knew that the Imperial overreach would only grow worse. Maybe you wouldn’t be on the front lines or running around as a spy but surely your skills could still come in handy.

“Besides, maybe if you had been around all these years, I wouldn’t be so scarred,” He jokes softly.

“Not so sure about that one seeing as you’re going to have a fresh new scar on your side,” You point out.

“That’s just a reminder I’d be dead if you hadn’t answered the door.”

You feel safe and comfortable in his lap like this, your fingers idly touching his chest. He is warm and inviting in a way that he only ever showed to you. But there is a hardness underneath that Cassian always had, now honed like a weapon to be aimed at the Empire.

Cassian is impossible to resist and impossible to forget. You already know what you’re going to say – why dance around it?

“Alright.”

He raises one eyebrow. “Can you be a little more specific? Alright to…the rebellion? To me?”

“To both.”

His shoulders sag slightly with relief and happiness flickers behind those gorgeous brown eyes of his that you’ve been enamored with since the first time he looked at you all those years ago. He leans forward, kissing you softly.

You wrap your arms around Cassian, resting your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes. He is comforting, warm like your favourite blanket and familiar as ever even with all the changes. When his arms circle around your waist, your heart flutters.

This is where you’re meant to be, you think, softening against him.

The universe has an interesting way of having you circle back to the one you’ve always loved.

the end.

#star wars smut #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor fics #cassian andor smut #star wars fics #i want you back #100 notes #200 notes

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around1302 · 1 year

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XVII. YOU HAVE ME

SPARE PARTS: a series (17/20)

BOLOGNE, ITALY

(W) strong language, family restraints, alcohol use, fingering

good lord this has taken me some time to finish. i’m so sorry, life just got in the way. hopefully 4.3k of a smidge of angst and a fuck-ton of fluff makes up for it!

HARRY’S POV

“What’s the move for tonight?”

“You can do what you want, I’m taking Charlie out.”

Niall’s usual grin twists into a smirk, his eyes glinting. I resist the urge to roll my own.

I am taking Charlie out. Not that she necessarily knows that yet.

I don’t mean to sound like a desperate man, but I need Charlie and I to move on like I need air. I can feel her warming to the idea of me, but at the end of the day she still just sees me as her annoying bandmate who’s up to giving her an orgasm or two.

I need to be more than that to her. I can’t be either nothing or just her temporary fix.

And if there’s one thing that’s apparent about Charlie, it’s that she’s a hopeless romantic. She doesn’t crave sneaking around and fleeting glances and meaningless moments. I’ve seen her face light up more from seeing a couple holding hands in public than when I’ve been literally going down on the girl.

In fact, in the time I’ve known her, she’s only ever dated one person – Zayn, which is also why this could get messy.

(But fuck him. I was there first).

“I’d love to say I’m surprised about this whole thing, but I’m really not.” Niall snorts.

I narrow my eyes, but before I can ask anymore questions, the guys barge into Niall’s suite.

“Fuckin’ Hell, Horan. You have it fancy in here.” Louis gawks far too loudly for the fancy establishment we’re in, but I have to say, I share the sentiment. We all have nice rooms (it’s the most expensive hotel in Bologne, for God’s sake) but Niall managed to bag da Vinci’s fucking shrine.

Niall shrugs, sitting up with that mischievous flicker in his eyes.

“Lia still out?”

“Yeah,” Liam explains, “she’s dragging Charlie and Zayn round the shops. Tried to rope us in but we managed to escape.”

My chest tightens. I force it to relax.

Liam throws his legs up on the Ottoman, stretching out. After the show last night, we’re all exhausted. After nearly four months of touring, non stop performing and the consequential non stop partying, we’re all wiped the fuck out. It’s why Niall and I said no to their little day trip around Italy. To put it frankly: I can’t be arsed with the tourism shit when there’s a mini bar five feet away from me up here.

“Good,” Niall reaches behind him, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket.

“What the fuck is that?” I spit.

“This, my friend,” Niall flicks the box open. My suspicions are confirmed, “is about to get me the best head I’ve ever had.”

“Holy shit.” Louis grabs the diamond, making Niall fly up and snatch it back.

“For real?” Liam stands too, while I’m still sat in shock.

“Why I got this fancy suite,” Niall’s as giddy as a kid on Christmas, “want to do it tonight. Italy’s always been her favourite place and I figure–”

“You’re twenty-one.” “Twenty-two this year.”

I scowl. Niall’s cheeky grin droops.

“Oh come on, man. Who cares how old we are? I know I’m gonna be with this girl till I’m all old and gross and grey, why not seal the deal now?”

“Because it’s insane!” I splutter. I’m not angry. Am I? Why am I angry?

“Hardly,” Louis sharply laughs, “they’ve been basically married since they met.”

“Okay, but being basically married and being actually married are two very different things.”

“Dude, don’t you think I know that? I have thought about this, you know.”

My jaw tightens.

My best friend is about to propose to his girlfriend, and I can’t say I’ve ever even had one. The girl I’ve been in lo– whatever. It doesn’t matter. The point is, I can narrow my anger down to one, ugly thing: bitter fucking jealousy.

So, I do the mature thing; I storm out.

Luckily for me, the second I step out into the hallway – all heaving chest and unnecessary frustration – Charlie, Amelia and Zayn bump into me. They’re all laughing about something, a million shopping bags between them.

“Oh, hey man–” Zayn starts, but I cut him off by grabbing Charlie’s waist and pushing her in the direction of my room. The sliver of skin given to me below her crop top sends a spike through my spine.

I don’t care that Zayn is probably about to start quizzing Amelia to no end, all I care about is the universe quite literally handing me the only person I want to talk to right now.

“Yo, what the fuck?” She twists, staring at me with what I assume is a mixture of vexation and confusion, but I’m too busy staring ahead to notice. Charlie doesn’t make a move to escape my grip (something I know she’s more than capable of doing), so I keep walking us to my room.

I messily scan my keycard and grab her shopping, setting it down as carefully as I can in my haste before closing the door with her body.

There’s something else I want to do before talk.

But, I hesitate for a moment, brushing my lips against hers. I silently ask for permission, pulling her toward me so her lower back lifts from the door and our torsos press together. She hesitates, too. Brushing her nose against mine before kissing me with as much urgency as I got her into the room with.

I sigh into her mouth, completely wrapping my arms around her back to hold her flush against me. “Missed you,” I mumble against her lips, trailing my hand up to hold the back of her head. I rake my fingers through her hair, loosening her ponytail.

“Missed you too.” She gasps, looping her fingers through my belt hooks.

I nearly let myself smile, but then she palms me over my jeans.

Quickly, I hold her wrist, preventing me from dragging her to bed and insisting we don’t leave my hotel room all night. “Go out with me.” I let the words tumble like a subconscious spill, letting my chest do all the work so my brain doesn’t have to.

Frowning, she pulls back. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I want to rewind and let her do whatever she wants with me. Why the Hell did I–

“Go out with you?” She’s smiling. She’s smiling.

“Yeah,” I feel my cheeks heating. I’m getting shy, for fuck’s sake. I don’t do shy. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve said those four words over the years, and I’ve lost count of how many people I’ve said it to. I don’t recall nerves ever being a factor in that habit.

“You realise I’m a sure thing, right?” She cocks her head, and I want to kiss the faint dimple that pops beside her lips. I settle for her bottom lip.

“I want to take you out.” I pull her lip between my teeth, bathing in the way she sighs. “Properly.”

“You’re having me on.”

“Nope,” I pop. I need to banish this shy thing. Fuck the shy thing. I realise our proximity might have something to do with that, so I step away, flicking the light on so I can see her properly.

Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes are dark and her hair is mussed and– and shit. I’m so gone on this girl. She folds her arms across her shirt, and that’s when I notice the shirt. It’s my shirt – the one I gave her weeks ago, the band she claims to hate, the shirt I’ve dreamt about fucking her in ever since.

The shirt which now rests just below her bra.

“Oh,” she clocks my thought process – probably because I’m staring at her chest – and fumbles with the messy hem. “Shit, sorry. I never even asked if you wanted it back–”

“Never.” I murmur.

A pause. “What?”

I blink back to reality, back to her eyes. “I never wanted it back,” I clear my throat, try and regain some conviction, “the band sucks anyway.” I wink, she chuckles.

God, maybe we should just stay here. We could order room service and continue our theme of fucking in hotel showers and spend all night getting sweatier and sweatier in between the sheets and–

No! No. I need to take her out.

“Be ready by seven.”

I bend to pick up her shopping, handing it back. Charlie takes the bags slowly, looking at me like I just told her my name’s actually Bill.

Then, softly, nearly meekly, she whispers, “I thought we had rules?”

My lungs stop working. “We did. We do.”

Right – I’m not even considering her right now. I know what I want, and I know I want it badly. I need to learn I can’t just demand this. Sure, I’ve waited six years, but she sure as shit doesn’t know that.

Patience is a bitch.

She looks at me, scrutinising, studying. I want to read her mind, it seems to all work so complicated up there. A million bolts and cogs working tirelessly; I’d give it all up for just a peek.

“I suppose I’d be pretty stupid to deny we’re at least friends at this point, right?”

I can breathe again. “Right.” I rush to say.

“So… dinner as friends. Yeah?”

“Absolutely.” No, fuck no. “Bonding time.”

She purses her lips, seemingly amused. Nodding, she swivels from the door, palm wrapped around the handle and about to let me stand in my room and punch the air but…

“You sure you don’t want me to help you out first?”

Her eyes flicker accusingly at my crotch. Specifcally, my hard on, from just kissing the girl.

It’s like I’m fucking fifteen again.

I snort, pushing my tongue against my cheek to stop the habitual impulse to say something inappropriate. I want to scream yes, God, yes but I can’t. Charlie’s like some kind of kryptonite – one handjob will turn into one blowjob will turn into round after round after round.

“I’m good, love.”

Charlie scowls. “You’re really just going to try every nickname in the book, aren’t you?”

“That’s the plan, sweet pea.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she swings the door open, so before it slams behind her I shout a reminding,

“Seven!”

And then I stand in my room, and punch the air.

“Jesus, Styles, this place is fancy.”

I smirk. “Only the best for a princess.”

“Hey–”

“I’m kidding! Here,” I let go of the small of Charlie’s back to pull her chair out for her, “sit, before you hit me.”

“I can still reach you from over here.”

I playfully roll my eyes as I take my seat. She definitely can. I made sure to get us a table hidden away, close enough for our legs to accidentally tangle and far enough away from anyone else Charlie doesn’t need to worry about people.

She’s always panicked about mobs. The first one was pretty traumatic I guess, and ever since she’s been the overly cautious one in public. Never seen without heavy glasses and an even heavier hoodie, so I made sure she wouldn’t be spending our first date (that is what I’m declaring that is, friends or not) in fear.

It’s not conceited if saying your name for a last minute res at one of the most established restaurants in Bolonge works. Fame has it’s perks, I’m allowed to admit that.

… I think.

Within a few seconds, a waiter comes over with a bottle of red I preorded on the phone. Charlie leans back, looking at me quizzitivley as he pours us both a glass and leaves the rest between us. We thank the waiter, and I gauge her reaction.

A pause. My heart awaiting a beat.

“I’m impressed.” She raises her brows, a glimmer of a smile on her rouge lips.

“Good,” I lift my glass, clinking it against hers before we both take a sip.

I let my eyes properly roll over her for the first time since I met her outside the hotel. It was too dark and too much of a rush to the car for me to drink her in, and God. She looks fucking edible. She’s wearing a strapless dress that lets my wind wander to every inch of skin I can kiss with her still in the thing – but, Jesus, stop.

Tonight isn’t about that.

Quiet falls on us, because, well. What do we talk about if not for the security of sex or argument, if not for the safety net of anyone else around us? Here, we’re uninterrupted. In fact, no. We’re not anything.

We’re two people on a first date. We’re fresh.

“You know,” Charlie chuckles to herself, setting her glass down and leaning on her palms, “I love trying to figure out the other people at restaurants like this. Like, okay, that couple,” she nods behind me, so I try and turn as discreetly as I can. She hits my leg. “Don’t be so obvious!” She hisses behind a smile.

I’ve just gone and made things worst myself by taking Charlie out, haven't I?

“That couple is on their first date, and he’s trying to figure out how to leave.”

“And how do you know that, Sherlock?”

Charlie shrugs and leans back to take another sip.

“I know people. He’s fidgeting like crazy, looked at the bathroom like five times in the past thirty seconds. For sure planning his escape.”

“Or he just really needs a shit.”

Charlie snorts into her glass, spraying wine onto her cheeks. I guffaw, and both of us fall into laughter too loud for an establishment like this. “Fuck, my makeup.” Charlie taps at her cherry stains aimlessly, so I lean across with my napkin.

“Here, hold still,” I chuckle, pinching her chin between my fingers and trying to get as much grapejuice from her face. In the midst of the scene, our waiter returns.

“Are you… oh.” He clears his throat, and we pause to look up.

“We might need a few more minutes.” I mumble. Charlie grins sheepishly.

Yeah, okay, maybe it is conceited – but thank God we do what we do, because judging by the compressed scowl on the guy’s face as he leaves us, we were one 0 in our bank accounts away from being kicked out.

As I’m wiping at her face, our eyes lock, and the words tumble out before I can think about what I’m saying.

“Niall’s proposing to Amelia.”

She gasps. I sit back.

Silence holds us, until a slowly whispered, “shit,” punctures it.

“Yeah.”

I see her reach for her wine. Then she downs it.

“So I told my mum Gemma was a drug dealer. Of course my mum was like, Harry, she’s nine. But it was the worst thing I could come up with at six years old.”

Charlie throws her head back at the story of myself and my sister, one of my favourite memories to relay. I stab my fork in my pasta and try and muffle my grin as Charlie giggles away.

“I never thought you’d be the type to take WWF wrestling so personally.”

I shrug. “I was a dedicated fan. I still refuse to believe it’s staged.”

Her laughter dies, and she gets this sort of gone off look in her eyes. Like she’s thinking about something, someone, and then it hits me – I’ve been sat here reeling off stories about my sister without any regard for the fact she no longer has hers.

“You know,” she shifts, eyes dropped to her plate. She pushes a piece of broccoli around with her silverware, chewing on her lip. Then, her voice gets quiet, small, when she admits, “I don’t think my parents have called me one time this whole tour.”

She chuckles to herself, but it’s void of any humour.

“They did their usual prayer for my safety before I left, and rang to see if I had changed my mind, but…”

I dip my head to meet her eye. She looks up at me, meekly. Like tears are threatening to spill but she’s using every muscle to hold them back. I’m so terrible in situations like this, I never say the right thing because, truthfully, people don’t often open up to me.

(Not like this, at least.)

So, I go with my gut, and pray it doesn’t betray me.

“Pretend I’m your parents.”

Charlie piques. “What?”

Confidence begins to slip from me, evident in the way I mess with my hair and twist my rings beneath the table. “Pretend I’m your parents,” I repeat – despite the out she just gave me.

“This apart of that daddy kink you were talking about?” She smiles smally.

“No,” I lilt. “Tell me about tour. Look,” I sit up straight, bringing my hair forward and cracking my neck. Getting into character. I lift my hand to my ear, pretending to be on the phone. “Hi sweetie, how’s tour going?”

Charlie snorts. “That supposed to be my mum?”

“I’ve never met the woman, go with it.”

She rolls her eyes, but she sits up and lifts her hand, too.

“Hi mum. It’s fine.”

“Fine? Come on, you’ve been away for months.”

She sighs, giving me that look through those lashes. I lift my brows.

“It’s been amazing, actually.”

I smile. We’re getting somewhere.

“Everyone really likes our album,” she continues, “and I started banging the one with long hair you always tell me I need to stay away from.”

“Heey,” I drop the ‘phone’. She looks pointedly at my hand. I raise it again.

She heaves a breath, her expression stone again.

“I wish you’d try and understand my job a little more. I think you’d see what I’m doing is actually really cool if you took the time.”

My chest aches. I knew Charlie had a strained relationship with her parents, I just never knew why. They’d never come to shows, she would never mention them. I don’t even remember them sitting with her at Poppy’s funeral.

Maybe when Charlie blamed herself for her sister’s death, her parents did too.

“You were wrong, by the way.”

I got so lost in my own anger I forgot we were doing this.

“Wrong?” I ask.

“About the dude with long hair. He’s actually alright.”

I couldn’t let this night end.

We practically got kicked out of the restaurant when we wound up being the last two in there, and then we stumbled our way to my hotel room and have been laid on the bed giggling over nothing for the last hour.

Red wine is strong shit.

So far, I’ve learnt Charlie hates the colour purple, secretly loves 90s horror and sometimes worries she made a mistake by going to that audition six years ago.

“I just want a dog, y’know?”

“You can have a dog.” I laugh.

“No, no,” she flips, her hair messily cascading her shoulders as she hovers above me. I let the wine guide my hand, tucking a strand or two behind her ear. She leans into my palm. “I want a dog, and a spouse, and a kid.”

I caress her cheek, and then she lays her face completely on my chest. I freeze, watching in awe as she shifts so her legs hang off the bed and her head is on the spaces were my shirt gives way to my skin. Charlie tilts her head, closing her eyes when my fingers find home on her scalp.

I just want this, I want to scream.

“What?”

Fuck. Wait. Did I not think that?

The domestic bliss lasts all of ten seconds before she’s sitting up again.

I’m at a loss for words. I’m sure she’s going to leave, that I just fucked up this whole night, but then she’s climbing a top of me. My hands instinctively fly to her thighs, holding her close through the silk while she assesses me from above, her hair a curtain.

“You want friends with benefits forever? That’s your end goal?” She sounds amused, so I can’t tell if she’s being serious or not. I want to shout, is that all I am? Even after today, after everything?

I’m better at holding in my thoughts this time, though.

“You really think we can ever be friends?”

Then, she sighs and straightens. Her hair no longer tickling my neck.

“Jesus, you’re confusing. I thought that was why you took me out in the first place!”

This girl will be the death of me.

“Okay, Charlie,” I sit up, gripping her waist to pull her against me. I feel her chest huff out against mine in three quick, fluttering motions. “Let me be crystal clear,” I cradle her face, now, just brushing her bottom lip. She leans into my touch again, and I feel every ounce of self-doubt fade away with the sigh she lets out. I knock my nose against hers.

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

Charlie rushes to say, “You have me,” whilst fisting at my shirt.

As much as I want that to be true, I know she doesn’t believe those words in the same way I want to believe them. So, I stifle a breathy chuckle, shaking my head.

“I don’t think I do.” My throat stutters at the word baby. I haven’t tried that one out yet.

“What do you mean? I’m right here.”

Charlie looks genuinely confused, which I suppose is the problem. The problem I created. I pull back, sinking into her brown eyes till I’m sure I’ve turned to stone. All I’ve wanted for the last six years is to hear Charlie say those words: you have me. Yet, in this moment, I realise I’ve gone about all of this completely wrong.

“I want a redo.” I barely whisper, insecure in my words.

“A redo?”

I quickly lick my lips. “Of everything.” I thumb at her jaw. “I fucked it all up, Charlie.”

“Fucked what up?” She deadpans, clearly tired of my inexplicability.

“You. Me. Us. This.”

Charlie shorts out a huff, as if she’s finally got it.

“We didn’t know this would end up happening–”

“I knew.”

I let my confession barrel before me. If I scare her off, then fuck it. I scare her off. But she needs to know. She needs to know that,

“I’ve wanted you since we were sixteen and you shouted at me for being late to our first recording. I knew the minute you stood there in your stupid scarf and your even stupider boots that I was going to have it bad for you and I’ve not known what to do with it since.”

Charlie looks startled, but she’s unmoving from my lap, so I take it as a sign to keep going.

“I thought that you’d always hate me,” my throat swells, “so I’ve been a prick to you and I… especially after Zayn, I just didn’t…” I shake my head, looking down, losing myself.

It’s the wine, that’s all that’s fuelling this sudden, dumb confession. The wine and the fact that right now my best friend is probably engaged. But, then...

Charlie lifts my chin.

Charlie hesitates.

Charlie’s eyes flick back and forth between mine.

Charlie kisses me.

I kiss back with force, pouring everything I couldn’t say into her lips. I hold the back of her head, moaning against her tongue as she pushes me back to the pillow and grips my shirt so hard it pulls nearly painfully against my back.

And then she stops.

“Zayn told me after Amsterdam he loves me.”

Just found the quickest way to kill a boner.

“Oh.” Is all I can say, apparently.

“But I don’t…” she trails off, her eyes dropping to my lips. “I don’t love him.”

“Okay.” I whisper.

My insides are having a fucking party, right now.

“That doesn’t mean I love you.” She rushes to clarify. I smile.

“I know.”

“But you are the first person I think about when I wake up. And when I go to sleep. And while that’s confusing because most of the time you piss me off, you don’t seem to do that anymore.”

I try not to sound so excited as I respond. “At all?”

“I mean, don’t push it.”

I chuckle, brushing her hair from her face. But then a dreadful pit starts to hole its way through my stomach, and I have to ask,

“You’re not just saying this because you want a dog?”

Charlie smiles against my lips. “I want you, Harry.” One sweet, chaste kiss. “I’m not thinking about the dog right now.”

I lean up to kiss her, flipping her onto her back. My hand slips under her dress, and her breath hitches. “Good,” I breathe against her mouth, rubbing her over her knickers. Her gasp travels to the back of my throat, and I swallow it, keep it, store it, run it over and over in my mind as I push her pants to the side and curl my middle finger in her.

“Stay the night?” I ask, adding my index finger.

“Oh,” Charlie moans, her head tipping back. I kiss her throat, “yes.”

“Yes, you’ll stay the night?” I nip at her neck, losing myself in vanilla and Merlot.

“Yes, Harry,” she pulls my face up, “just assume from now on I will always– fuck, stay the night.”

I grin. Her nails dig into my nape as I pull my fingers out and rub her clit.

“God, like that,” she breathes as I push my finger down harder, tuning myself to every gasp and moan she gives me. I kiss her through her orgasm, muffling her cries with my mouth despite wanting the entirety of Italy to hear how pretty she sounds when she comes.

“Always so good for me, baby.” I murmur, gripping her thigh as I shift my weight and move her core to my own thigh, still covered by the overpriced trousers I asked Amelia to find for me. She bucks her hips, capturing my bottom lip between her teeth. I whimper.

“Baby,” she breathes questioningly. “I like that one.”

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