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astroboots · 1 year

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EVERY YOU EVERY ME: ISSUE #4

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Miguel O'Hara saves you from falling off the Chrysler building for a second time, and he's not very happy about it.

Word count: 4,400 words.

Content: Slow burn so slow we're getting a reverse speeding ticket, Spidey-boy has a lot of emotions and really needs therapy, he also swears a lot, tiny speck of angst.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

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It's shocking how fast the ground approaches from a height of 72 stories. You always imagined it would take longer given the distance. In movies, the freefall is always captured in a hypnotizing slow motion, but real gravity is brutal and unforgiving.

This time, as you fall through the sky, you don’t see the New York concrete grow wider or nearer. All you see is the vast gap between you and the crystal blue sky rapidly pulling away from you. The buildings looming higher with every second. The blinding sun reflected in the thousands and thousands of glaring windows towering above.

You can't feel your heartbeat or the wind beating against your face. There should be panic. But at the sight of familiar inky-blue piercing through your view, an eerie calm takes over until a comforting numb spreads through your limbs.

Call it misguided naivety. No one should ever place this much trust with their life on a stranger they don't even know to come and save them.

But misguided or not, there's no fear in you this time around. You don't think about how you are plummeting down to your death. Not when you see him speeding after you. Diving head-first into the vast empty space as he closes the distance between you, hand outstretched, reaching for you.

His hand catches around your wrist in mid-air. It's a firm grip like he never means to let go. He reels you in until you're defying gravity, gliding up through the air to meet him until he can wrap his arms around you.

Everything decelerates. The reflection of the rows and rows of windows no longer flashing by. It's a gentle descent as the breeze flows pleasantly through your hair, and if you don't think too hard about how you can't control the direction of movement, you can almost believe you’re flying.

The landing is gentle. He sets you on your feet with such great care that it takes you a second to adjust to the feeling of firm concrete beneath your soles.

Once again, you find yourself standing face to face with the masked superhero who has saved your life more times than you can count on both hands.

You crane your neck to meet his gaze, head tilting upwards until your neck strains, and it strikes you that you've forgotten how tall he was. His head tips down, the dark outline of his masked eyes staring down at you, and it makes the hair on the nape of your neck prickle.

Say something.

You rack your brain, trying to remember all the questions you had meticulously written down in the notepad hidden in your desk as you planned for this very moment. But they’re missing, wiped cleanly from your mind now that he's here in front of you. Your mouth parts, trying to remember how to use your vocal cords again.

Before you find it, the blue fabric recedes until it reveals his face again. You're met with cutting eyes that glow an otherworldly crimson and the bared sharp canine teeth of a predator as he growls at you.

"What the hell were you thinking?!"

The low rumble of his words scrapes down your spine and locks you in a fight or flight response. Except you're doing neither. Fixed in place, unable to move.

One of his hands reaches up to pull at his hair in frustration, as he starts to mumble to himself. He's tugging it so hard you think he's going to yank them out by the roots.

"I can’t believe you! Me estás matando. Casi me da un ataque cardíaco–"

You blink up at him dimly, confused until you realize that he's broken into Spanish. But he's speaking too low and too fast. You can only make out about half of it.

"–No puedo más! I am dying of stress. You're impossible! I turn away for one second…”

One sentence flows directly into the next without stopping for a single breath, and you're surprised he doesn't go lightheaded from lack of oxygen with how long he goes on.

You raise your hand slightly, reminiscent of a gesture you used to pull in school when you wanted to get the teacher's attention to ask a question. But he doesn't notice. Doesn’t even throw a glance in your direction.

“... and you go Anna Karenina on me. I can't with you, I can't, I can't–"

You try to follow along, looking for an appropriate break in his rant to get a word in edgewise. But like the line of tourists lining up for the Statue of liberty, there doesn't seem to be an end in sight. As rude as it is, the only thing you can think of is clearing your throat, loudly, trying to draw attention to yourself, but that's soundly ignored as well.

"Me vas a sacar canas verdes–-"

One broad hand covers his face as if he's trying to scrub away the beginnings of a migraine, and he keeps going.

Listening to him makes you feel like a child on the receiving end of a scolding by an exasperated parent. Any lingering thread of fear or intimidation gives way to irritation at this man who is so subsumed by his tirade that he doesn't even seem to be aware of your presence, not three feet away from him.

"–Siempre haces esto, una y otra y otra vez–"

You don't know exactly how long he’s been going on for by now, but you know that it's long. You could even swear the shadow by your feet has shifted to the opposite end of the patch of concrete at your feet in the time he’s been talking.

"Well? Aren't you going to say anything?" he asks, apparently finally done. He stands there, arms crossed, with a condescending set to his jaw as he looks down on you.

And god, where to even start with this man? You have enough material about his difficult and avoidant behavior to make a powerpoint presentation out of it. You should block out the boardroom for three whole hours and hold a Q&A after.

How, if he had just spoken to you after you left him not one, not two, but several requests to meet with him, then things could have ended up a lot more civilized.

How, if he hadn't been hiding from you this whole time—gaslighting you— you wouldn't have had to spend over $200 on budget DIY spy crap (in this economy!) on an utterly wasted attempt to catch him. And, to add insult to injury, you’re sure you are never going to use any of that stuff ever again!

How, if he hadn't been talking non-stop and had the self-awareness to take a second to observe others, he'd have realized that you had plenty of things to say to him, if only he had paused long enough to let you.

But somehow in the face of his expectant expression, all that comes out of your mouth is, "I don't know what you want me to say."

His face falls. There's a split second of disappointment, raw and anguished, that flitters across his face. Then it's gone as quickly as it appeared, and he turns away from you. Whatever he was expecting from you, that was obviously not it.

When he speaks again, his voice has turned calm and quiet. He almost sounds resigned.

"Yeah. I don't know either."

There's a sluggish, awkward silence that lingers on the three feet of concrete stretched between the two of you. The echo of traffic below, the cab horns and chatter swarms the space. After everything that’s happened, it all feels very anti-climatic somehow.

"Can you take me back to my apartment and we can talk? I have coffee. Cake too," you say, trying to break the silence.

"I don't drink coffee." His tone is curt, severing the olive branch you were trying to extend with a sharp snap, and your shoulders sag in defeat and disappointment. But then his face tips back in your direction and meets your eyes. The line of his mouth twitches as if he’s war with himself.

"But I'll have some cake," he concedes.

Had you known that a superhero was coming over for a visit, you'd probably have done a better job of cleaning up and making the place presentable.

You would have put away the heap of unfolded, wrinkly laundry that's piled up on your bed, granny panties in full sight. Would have washed the dirty dishes stacked up in your sink like a dangerous game of porcelain Jenga. Or at least cleared out the sad looking take out box where your half-eaten pizza is still resting in a greased up spot on the table.

Still, you're not sure how impressed he would be even if you had. Your studio apartment is a standard size for NYC, meaning in most other places it would be classified as a closet. With his height, he has to duck to make it through the threshold of your door and can barely stand upright without banging his head against the ceiling. It’s ironic that the window entrance is probably less hazardous for him.

You get him a plate of cake and set it on the table in front of him, delicately placing the dessert fork on the side.

"Sorry, I don't have any cookies for you today, just coffee cake."

The sight of him sitting hunched over your Ingatorp IKEA dining table is slightly comical. The table looks like a miniature doll set against his broad frame, and as he picks up the small dessert fork in his large hand, that only adds to the absurdity of the situation. He looks like he’s playing at having a tea party with a child’s play tea set.

You sit down across from him, watching him intently, trying to gather the nerve to ask the questions you've been dying to ask since this all started. But you're hesitant and fumbling, stumbling on your words like an idiot, "Uhm, so I wanted to ask if you– if you knew why all of this is happening to–"

"No."

You frown at his interruption. "You didn't let me finish," you protest.

He leans back against his chair, waving away your protests dismissively into the air. "I didn't need you to. The answer is no. Next question."

You bite down on your lip to stave off the curse stuck in your throat, trying to force its way out. You hold it. Stemming the tide, as you focus on the task at hand.

"Who are you?"

His head tilts to the side at your question, as his hand draws up and gestures vaguely over the spider emblem of his costume draped over his chest. "Isn't it obvious?" he snarkily responds, "I'm Spiderman"

Great, he's a rude and sassy superhero. You narrow your eyes at him

"You're not the Spiderman I know of."

He doesn't respond to that. Just glares down at the cake as he pierces it with a sharp stab of the fork, making the porcelain underneath clank. Then he scoops a large spoonful and shovels it into his mouth.

God, who eats cake so angrily?

"Why did you save–" you start, but he holds up one finger, motioning for you to pause.

He cleaves off another piece of cake and shoves it into his mouth, chewing slowly. You watch as he beats the Guinness record of slowest chewer across the table from you, before you finally get to repeat your question.

"Why do you keep saving me?"

"I'm a superhero. I save people. It's what I do."

Bright irritation pings through you at his sarcastic attitude.

This is like playing the world's shittiest game of 20 Questions, except here the whole goal of the game is to see whose sanity cracks first.

Naively, you had thought that being able to sit down with him in person would mean you could finally start getting some answers. You hadn't been expecting the need to deploy strategic maneuvers, and you pause, taking your time before you speak.

You need to pick a question he won't be able to evade. You think back at the footage of the nanny-cam, that time he carried you to bed. The worry when you weren't where he expected you to be. The over-familiarity that seeps out of his every action with you as if he already knows you and that the last thing you heard as you fell off the ledge was his voice calling out your name.

"How did you know my name?" you finally ask him.

His back stiffens at the question, jaw grinding down until the small muscle there flexes with irritation.

"I don't."

Liar.

"You called my name when I fell," you remind him.

This time instead of answering, he slides the now empty plate at you across the table.

"Can I have another slice?"

You frown. It's an obvious ploy to buy himself some time to avoid answering your question. But you can't deny his request either.

With a sigh, you push away your chair to bring the plate to the counter. You cut up an obscenely big slice so that he won't be able to use this as an excuse a second time.

Turning back around, you find that the gluttonous self-proclaimed Spiderman is pinching the bridge of his nose. He looks a little worse for wear, a pained expression etched into those tightly knitted brows.

"Are you okay?" you ask, concerned.

"No. I–" He breaks off, his broad palm gripping the back of the chair, and you notice a slight tremor in his fingers. "Something’s wrong."

He pushes the chair back, trying to get to his feet, but to your surprise, he stumbles and sways.

He seems just as surprised as you are at his newfound lack of coordination.

"What the–" He looks down on his feet with concentrated effort. Then he takes another step. It's wobblier than the one before, his knee giving way, and his arm shoots out to grip at the edge of your table for balance.

Alarm bells start to go off in your head. You don't understand what's happening, but he's definitely right, something is wrong. A man that can gracefully scale down the Chrysler building from 72 floors down shouldn't be struggling this much just to take two steps back in your living room.

"Maybe you should sit back down," you suggest, looking up at him. There’s a slight sheen of perspiration that's settled on his forehead. The beginnings of a rosy flush tinting his cheeks. "Do you have any food allergies?"

"No. I don't. No. Super metabolism kind of cuts down on that sort of–” he’s stumbling over his words, each syllable slurred on his tongue, as he shakes his head at you. “No, no allergies. No food sensitivities of any kind except...."

He glares around wildly and his eyes land on the remaining slice of cake perched on your kitchen counter.

"Did you put fucking coffee in that cake?!?!"

“"Yes?” You whip around, and look at the cake on your counter, not understanding the relevance of his question. “I mean... It's a coffee cake? I told you that!"

You push aside your growing panic as you try to remember if the EpiPen stored away in your kitchen cupboard is past its expiration.

"You didn't tell me there was coffee in it!"

Is he serious?

"I said ‘coffee cake’! What else would be in there? It's in the name," you snap.

And god, you can't believe this is what you're arguing with him about at this moment.

"Okay, yeah," he concedes testily, "but coffee cake is its own thing too! Isn’t coffee cake just… cake... that you, like... serve with coffee? It doesn't have coffee in it! Why the fuck does it have coffee in it?"

Does the man even hear himself? You're trying to figure out if you need to call an ambulance, and he is arguing with you on the technicalities of what constitutes coffee cake.

"Okay, wait, but are you dying?" you ask, trying to stay calm despite the pandemonium of panic ringing in your head.

"No! I'm just intoxitac– intocita– intoshica– I'm just fucking drunk okay!?" he spits out.

Your brain stalls at his statement. Intoxicated!? When did he have time to drink? He seemed fine just a few minutes ago, but now he's slurring and about to topple over.

"You're drunk? How–"

"Spiders get drunk on coffee," he interrupts, and the flush on his cheek deepens to a deep alarming red. If you didn't know better, you'd almost think he was blushing.

"Okay, let's sit you down." You rush over, rounding your dining table as you reach for him.

At the sight of your extended hands, his eyes widen in alarm, He steps back from you, eyeing you like you're something dangerous.

"No. No, I'm–" he takes another step backwards, flinging himself away from your touch, but loses his footing in the process. He tilts over, hand grappling for the edge of the table as he goes, but instead of the edge he manages to take the cake plate with him on the way down.

There's a clank of shattered porcelain, followed by the loud thud of his body hitting the ground.

With the large size of him in your tiny studio apartment and the breaking of porcelain left and right, this feels like the idiom of a bull running wild in a China shop, come to life.

You reach out your hand to help him get up, but he doesn't acknowledge it, anchoring his elbow to the floor for leverage, only to wobble and fall flat against his back again with an angry curse.

Why is he so goddamned stubborn?

You glance down at him, this gigantic man that is lying sprawled out on the floor with the gravitas of a turtle trapped on its back. He's so huge that he's eating up half of the floor space of your entire home. If he doesn’t get up, you won't be able to take two steps without accidentally stepping on him.

Shaking your head in disbelief at the ridiculousness of the situation, you hunch down on your knees beside him.

There's hesitation etched in those otherworldly crimson eyes as you come near. But as much as he's scowling at you, baring his fangs and trying to look scary, there isn't much he can do from the floor.

"Let me help you," you insist, "let's get you in bed until it wears off. I can't have you passed out on my floor like this."

He takes your outstretched hand, and you pull backwards, trying to bring him up with you. Between the two of you, you manage to get him on his feet again. Barely.

Whoa.

You crane your head up, up, up til you meet his eyes. Yup, the man is still huge. Must be damn near 7 feet tall and heavy, and you quickly realize there's not much you can do but try to steer so that he falls in the direction of your bed.

Somehow you manage to shepherd him in the right direction, until his knees hit the edges of your bed. He lands with a dramatic thud and you hear your bed frame groan in protest.

“Do you need anything?” you ask, but he doesn’t answer you. His broad arm drapes over his eyes, blocking you out.

You sigh, turning on your heels to clean up the mess of coffee cake and broken plates off your floor.

You barely manage to finish sweeping up the floor before you hear soft snoring filling your home.

Knock-off Spiderman is sound asleep, his large shape curled up on your mattress, entirely still.

You settle yourself back at the dining table, eating the leftover coffee cake as you pull up a book on your phone and wait for him to wake.

This was not how you had imagined your first extended interaction would turn out.

Honestly, you can't make sense of any of your interactions with him. How he's constantly avoiding you, yet can't seem to stay away and routinely checks in on you.

How he acts overly familiar in one instance and excessively rude and put off by you the next.

Maybe you remind him of someone else... Maybe even an ex? It feels weird to speculate, but it would explain a lot of things. His belligerent attitude towards you. The way he looks at you with eyes full of resentment, even as he's saving you from certain death. That look in his eyes like he knows you, even though you've never met him.

It doesn't explain how he knows your name though.

From the bed, you can hear him stir, shifting against the mattress with a quiet groan muffled into your pillow. He's softly murmuring something that you can't quite make out, and then he turns in his sleep again, making a pained noise that makes worry squeeze tight in your chest.

Maybe letting him sleep it off wasn't the brightest idea you've had. You probably should've called for the ambulance as soon as he showed physical signs of distress.

You're not a biologist. You don't know how a hybrid spider-human’s physiology works.

What if he's not just drunk? Whoever heard of coffee making someone drunk! And how could it affect him so quickly? There was barely a minute between him stuffing his face and falling all over the place. Some quick, panicked googling confirms that coffee makes spiders a kind of drunk, but it doesn’t say if it’s outright toxic to them.

Oh fuck, what if he's dying!? Oh god, what if a superhero dies in your bed? How will you explain this to your landlord? Or the police! “I fed him coffee cake, and it killed him, officer.” Right, that’s going to go over like a lead balloon! It’ll probably look like you poisoned him. TMZ will be swarming the place. You'll be classified as a supervillain.

Setting down the book, you make your way over to sit on the edge of your bed. You lean over his sleeping form and peer down at him, checking for any signs of physical distress.

That red flush from earlier is still riding high on his cheeks, looking like the beginnings of a fever. You reach out your hand to rest it on his forehead to check his temperature.

Warm.

He stirs at the touch, turning his face and practically nuzzles into your palm. It’s almost endearing as he buries his sharp nose into your wrist.

You hold your breath, worried that exhaling would be loud enough to wake him as you gaze down on him. Up close like this, when he's not being rude, and stubborn and defensive, he's... quite attractive.

He has the kind of sculpted face that Hollywood dreams are made of, angular jaw and a prominent nose that makes him look regal. Not to mention those chiselled cheeks of his are a fucking marvel to look at. But more than that, curled up asleep in your bed, there’s a gentle softness to his features that hadn’t been noticeable when he was awake.

Now that he’s not frowning down at you and the line of his mouth isn’t pulled into an angry snarl, you can see that his lips are full and luscious, delicate even. His heavy brows look less intimidating now that his face has relaxed from its perpetual scowl.

He looks... soft, somehow.

There's a spark of something heated in your veins that has you feeling flushed and warm. You have to turn your eyes, shaking your head and tutting at yourself, because you’re creeping on the drunk guy passed out on your bed, and it’s not a good look on you.

The commotion makes him stir, his eyes blink softly open. He looks up at you, with half-lidded eyes, and it's different from how he's looked at you up until now. His gaze is still so…. soft.

"Nena," he says quietly.

Your cheeks warm at the warmth in his voice , and you gently pull your hand away from his forehead.

"Sorry, I was just checking if you were okay," you explain awkwardly as you start to back away from him, sliding your knee along the mattress to climb off the bed.

At your movement, he darts upright into a seated position and pulls you to him, clinging onto every inch of you as he buries his face to your side.

“Don't go,” he murmurs into your neck. His voice is trembling, and you can feel the panic radiating from him as the grip he has on you tightens until it’s bruising.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he says, keeps repeating it. You don’t know what he’s apologizing for but the guilt and sadness in his voice tugs at something deep inside your chest.

Nena, he said, and you realize that even though you're the one he's holding in this moment, he's not talking to you. He thinks you're someone else.

"Please don't leave me again. I-I can't–" he chokes out the words into the hollow of your throat where he's pressed his face tight into your skin. You can't help but notice the damp wetness that gathers there. "I'm trying, but I can't– I don't know how to do this without you."

The words are raw in his throat, and despite your confusion, your chest squeezes tight with a sympathetic ache at the man's obvious heartbreak.

You don't know what's going on here or who he thinks you are. The only thing you know is that you want to make him feel better. To make his hurt a little less painful. To make the consuming guilt you can hear in his voice a little bit smaller.

"It's okay," you say.

What the it refers to, you have no idea. But the least you can do is to give the man who has saved your life over and over, a tiny crumb of comfort.

You return his embrace, circling an arm around his shoulder, matching the tightness with which he’s holding you. Your other hand slides into his hair and he shivers at the touch, face burying deeper into your neck.

"I'll protect you,” he murmurs into your skin, “I can do better this time. Keep you safe. I promise.”

"It's okay. It’s okay. I’m already safe," you reassure him, giving him the only truth you know for sure in this moment, "You saved me."

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: as always to my collaborator on this series, who helps me brainstorm, write, edit and beta-read and everything in between and over with this series. This exists because of her, and I am so grateful to her. The hours I spend shouting into her DMs and bother her on the daily since this series infected my mind. You guys don't know what I put poor @thirstworldproblemss through.

Also to @guruan who was kind enough to read through this and steer me in the right way with the spanish, but also for giving me porn that has kept my brain buzzing for days!!!

Please follow both of these insanely lovely, kind and talented people.

Author's note: the Spanish in this chapter has been left untranslated on purpose, so that it's left ambiguous whether reader speak/understand Spanish. The idea is that if you as a reader understand it, then so does the reader, and vice versa 🥰

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfic #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel #miguel ohara x reader #spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you

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torukmaktoskxawng · 5 months

Note

Hey I was wondering if you could do an imagine with Neteyam with Navi reader. As the idea I was thinking you both sneak off and end up making out in a tree. Fluff but I wouldn’t mind it being a lil smut but I definitely would love to see fluff if you don’t mind❤️

(Gif not mine)

Pairing: AgedUp!Neteyam/AgedUp!Fem!Na'vi!Reader (oof, mouthful)

Warnings: fluff, aged-up characters, make-out session, heated stares, hinted nsfw, not filthy, honestly very vanilla but its a sweet vanilla lol.

Taglist: @neteyamsl0ver @mooniequeen

A/n: I hinted at both and I am so sorry this took so long. I'm getting better, I promise.

~~~~~~~~~

Honestly, it was to be expected.

The son of the Omatikaya's tsakarem and Toruk Makto, sneaking out with the daughter of Ninat, the best singer of her clan and one of the most beautiful Na'vi women of her generation.

Truly, their children would be a match made by Eywa herself, and this is why no one should have been surprised to learn the two young Na'vi would sneak away from their families to be alone. Off they went, the moment their families had all fallen asleep, racing each other out into the forest, prancing over the glowing flora of their beautiful world.

Neteyam made a playful grab at your tail and you whipped around, laughing out of surprise, before half-heartedly shoving him away. He doesn't let you get far, grabbing the hand that you had pressed against his chest and keeping it there, his thumb tracing your skin while you could feel his heartbeat beneath your palm. You linger there for a moment, allowing him to captivate you with those yellow eyes, constantly staring into yours, barely blinking and never looking away. You let him think he's got you under his spell before you swiftly break away, running off with your laugh trailing behind you.

Neteyam smirks and gives chase, following you up a large tree, full of bridge-sized branches intertwining with its neighbors. He chases you up until he has you pinned against the trunk, and this time you don't even try to escape. You let him enjoy the small victory as he plants a kiss on your cheek, then your neck, then your shoulder.

He moves to kiss the other side of your face and neck, mumbling into your skin, "Will you sing for me, ma'yawntu?"

You exhale a quiet sigh at the feel of his lips softly brushing a sensitive spot on your neck, before starting a soft tune. Like your mother, you were a spectacular singer, and it was one of the many traits Neteyam loved about you, and it showed in his enthusiasm as his kisses turned more firm and earnest. They traveled across your collar and down both of your arms before traveling down to your stomach. You begin to squirm, anxious to get him exactly where you want him, your song briefly interrupted between soft gasps and whines until you can't take it anymore.

"Neteyam..."

"Hm?" He peers up at you, pausing his ministrations but keeping his lips on your skin, just below your belly button.

"Kiss me."

"Where?"

You giggle quietly, "My mouth."

You feel his lips smirk against your skin, "But how will I hear your song if I'm kissing you there?"

Your eyes roll and you use this angle to your advantage, gently kneeing Neteyam in the chest. He's startled out of a laugh and stands back up, accepting his fate as he threads both of his hands through the hair on the back of your neck, then leans down to capture you in a slow, tender kiss. You sigh through your nose and close your eyes, satisfied until you feel the need for more. Your hands rest on either side of his hip and you try your best to pull and press his pelvis against yours for some much-needed friction.

He pulls away, breathless, his eyes screwed shut with restraint as if it pained him to stop. He breathed deeply, in and out, slowly trying to regain his posture as he playfully growled, "Not yet, ma'yawntu. I want to do this right."

You sigh and pause your attempt, knowing you haven't been able to convince him to go any further than making out. You love how courteous and respectful he was. As the future olo'eyktan, it's a commendable and much-needed trait to have, but sometimes it could also be a curse. Neteyam had always wanted to court you properly, in front of the whole clan where everyone could see you and your love, but had wanted to wait until you had both finished your Iknimaya. He had achieved an ikran the year prior, and your own trial just happened to be tomorrow.

Leaning up to kiss his cheek, you decided you could afford to wait a little longer if it meant having Neteyam all to yourself very soon, "Until tomorrow then."

His eyes pierce yours with the kind of heat that makes your knees tremble, a fervent promise that makes your heart race and skin prickle. One look and he's already trying to test your own restraint and patience. You definitely couldn't wait until he was all yours.

~~~~~~~~~

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seventhcallisto · 6 months

Text

Chapter VI — "lips & hips."

Deep down.

Toc/cw: mdni!!!!!!!!! MATURE CONTENT!! Kissing. Cuddling. Unprotected shower sex(don't worry, men have unrealistic birth control). Fingering. Biting. Knotting. Grinding/humping. Orgasm w/o penentration(?) Idk how to cw. Orgasms x2(f. Receiving) hwa is a moaner and loud. Overestimming. Slight ooc hwa. Seonghwa is a hard dom for 00.2 sentences. slight angst. Crying. Love confession sort of. Fluff. I probably forgot some (I'll check later).

Pet names/nns: angel, mega, omega(yours) hwa(seonghwas) joongie(hongjoongs)

Wc: 12.3k

The Morning is already tiring, you're a jelly mess as seonghwa helps guide you to the bathroom. You're hardly carrying yourself as soon as you cross the threshold of your door, exhausted and spent.

Your legs ache and seonghwa mentions how they have to stop putting your knees over their shoulders so you aren't so sore. How the hell does he know? Seonghwas hands guide your hips, pushing you forward. You stop to watch wooyoung beg to be let pass,

Yunho leans against it to block you from view like some type of bodyguard. The sight is sorrowful and funny, wooyoung is begging and as an older member, yunho has the upper hand. Seonghwa is urging your wobbly legs forward before you can say anything.

Finally you're standing at the base of the wide tub, watching a pink bath bomb dissolve. The glass doors are slid to the side so you can step inside. Petals floating to the surface as the water turns a soft pink. It's cute. Your smile captures seonghwas fancy.

“Yeosang put that in,” he hums, closing the door. Of course he did, yeosang is your squishy love bug. From years of sharing hotel rooms and bathroom routines that consist of you two brushing your teeth at the sink and wearing face masks.

You, teaching him about how your products work for your own skin compared to his. He already knew but his small smile as he watches you explain tells you he didn't mind listening. You smile at the memory of it all, the isolated heating keeps all the warm air in. You're beginning to sweat at how hot it is in the bathroom.

Seonghwa decides to help you strip, of course, he loves playing caretaker. He asks before he does- having you sit on the edge of the tub while he tilts your hips up to slide off the briefs. You groan at the twist. More sore from the angle. A sorry smile stretches across seonghwas features, tossing the briefs in the dirty laundry basket.

You have half a mind to be embarrassed, but your shirt somehow falls over your areas and blocks him from looking. Just as you realize your shirt needs to come off next. So sudden, your stomach is twisting intensely, the feeling is familiar. But not so much so you realize what it is.

Seonghwa bends down in front of you, you don't move, you hardly make a sound. He tilts your chin up towards him with his pointer finger to get you to notice him. Leaning his hands on either side of you, against the tub. “I can leave if that's what you want.” He says sincerely. You shake your head quickly. His scent pushes out to calm you.

And for some reason you now feel completely bendable to whatever he wants you to do. You know that feeling. When you got it with yunho and even as soon as hongjoong made it obvious what he wanted.

Your hands reach out to grab him, pulling him close. Before you realize what you're doing, your mouth is attached to his neck, just resting there for a moment. Hands kneading and twisting into his hair pass the dark locks. Seonghwa laughs gently. His pulse thumping where your lips meet. He twists his arms behind your back. letting you know he's there, even when your scent begins to shift and grow heavier.

When it gets sweeter and leaves him swallowing thickly. And just for a minute you calm down at him being there. Calm down when his neck is latched between your lips like a leech. You place a kiss on the spot after unhooking from it. You don't want to let go of seonghwa. So, as a way to say that, you wrap your arms around his neck. Holding him for a moment.

He lets you, and God- does it make your heart skip. Seonghwa, who usually pushes away any super affectionate touching, is letting you latch onto him like some touch starved girl. Which, you feel as if you are for the moment. His embrace eases that feeling. Tough and soft at the same time.

“I love you” you mumble, sincerity dripping off your words. He hums, rubbing his thumb up and down on your back. “I love you” he inhales softly as he pulls back, your hands strain to let him go. He looks you in the eyes so deeply, you have a hard time not feeling the sincerity of them. “I love you more” you grin. Giddy. He laughs gently, a soothing sound.

He doesn't argue, but he has a look that tells you he loves you the most. Lovesick and sweet, if his eyes could. They'd be heart shaped whenever he looks at you. He helps you take off your shirt, playing with the tip of it to avoid peeping. You subconsciously wrap your arms around yourself.

It's not that you're shy being naked. Actually. Yes, it's exactly that. Wearing revealing stage outfits and performing in front of millions is nothing when you're naked in front of seonghwa. He's the only eyes you care about at the moment. Yet he doesn't seem to care about your nakedness. Tossing your shirt away with the briefs. He turns back to you. “Want me to wash your hair?”

You almost laugh at the innocence of it. Your face lights up instead. “Yes please” he helps you step in, telling you to lean on him for guidance. You watch seonghwa take a seat outside the bathtub. His knees must ache from the hard floor. Frowning, you pull your knees to your chest. “Aren't you getting in?” You swirl the petals around, they follow in sporadic patterns after your fingertips.

It's photographic, you look very imaginary to seonghwa, eyes wide with that sparkle, beckoning him to join you. If he's the sexiest member, then you're the most ethereal. He blinks, once, then twice. The question is odd but he wants to indulge you. “no- I'm getting in” he breathily says, quickly. He nods to hide it, gulping back the lump in his throat.

Close proximity like this makes his heart skip. You aren't usually so needy for affection. Seonghwa has known that about you for years. Yet, you want him as close. It's intimate. It's strange. But, he loves you. So he doesn't care if you'll be embarrassed about it later. He likes when you're needy. He knows you're still in a different mindset. A mindset that's almost truth-inducing. Letting your thoughts come to the surface and have light shed on them.

He strips his black shirt off first. Neatly, he folds it and lays it off to the side of the counter. Back turned towards you. Any jewelry, which has already been taken off earlier from cooking. He hears the slap of the water as you move, turning and swishing the water around with your body.

As soon as he's done unbuttoning his pants and stripping everything. He's lowering himself into the spot across from you. The water is hot, not burning, but soothingly hot. You've turned away from him to give him decency.

“Hand me the shampoo” he tells you. You do as he says, leaning up to grab it on the edge. It's an inexpensive but very trustworthy brand, not really scented. Your fingers caress as you hand it to him over your shoulder. “Should I wash yours?” You ask.

Seonghwa looks up from the lather on his hands to the back of your head. “I washed my hair this morning,” he hums. Fingers threading through the top of your scalp to bubble the shampoo. Your eyebrows furrow.

“Why did you get in with me then?” You say back. Now you wonder why you even asked him to join you. Heat of the moment? You can't see it but he's smiling at your pouty tone. “‘Cause you asked” he answers, his forehead creasing as he focuses on working his fingers through your hair, rubbing the base of your neck. You shudder, pulling your knees closer. A reactive thing.

“You didn't have too” you huff, leaning your head back towards him when he pulls gently to spread it through the top of your head. He stands up to grab the showerhead from his side of the bathtub. “I wanted to,” he simply says. Your heart leaps. Heat creeping to your ears, should that even affect you that much?.. no. It really shouldn't. You're sharing a bath together. You jump at the sound of running water.

You're in the bath. Together. Seonghwa leans the shower head against your hair. It's not hot, a bit cold, you know it's because he didn't want to burn you. You shiver at the coldness. The squeak of the knob protests as seonghwa turns it warmer. Ever so keen on your reactions, so very attentive.

The prickle of tears pokes the corner of your eyes. Now you feel- well, you're crying. Why, though? You don't really know. You don't think you've ever been this doted on- Don't know the last time someone took care of you. Rather than you taking care of yourself. Actually. You don't know the last time you let someone take care of you.

Yes, how could you be so dull. Many times, your members have tried. And jongho? He's so obvious about it. You've got idols coming up to ask you if you're dating based on the attention he shows you. He wants to take care of you so badly. He takes your baggage at the airport but stops when you say no.

He gives you his jacket whenever he has one. Even letting you hang back with him instead of participating, lets you lean on him when you're anxious before an interview. He lets you get your way. Let's you use his card even when you have your own, so adamant about proving he can take care of it.

And yunho, you can't forget him dropping everything to help you, can't forget he willingly came to see you and stopped your clingy ex from making a scene, even made you laugh to cheer you up. You obviously can't forget the way he looks at you like you're the world and everything great about it. And he even buys you food when he gets his own, tells you all the time he just got extra.

Who claims his spot next to you any place and time you have to sit for interviews, said so because he likes how it makes you look so small. Maybe you really are delusional- and Hongjoong. You love joong so much. From many nights spent together working until dawn on songs and repeating lines.

To being the only trainees in the entire company, two trainees who didn't speak the same language, and yet still finding a way to communicate. For years together. You know he works hard, knows he doesn't have to see you every morning before he checks out to the studio.

But he does anyway. You know he's got a lot on his shoulders, yet he still makes time to check up on you. Include you in his projects. Lets you listen to all of his demos. Takes your feedback to heart. Encourages you to get a producer tag. Goes as far as to give you any of his passwords so you can use his production aquitment.

Even buying clothes he knows you like the texture of just so your hands cling to him more. You're beginning to realize the same goes for yeosang, purposefully leaving his hoodies around so you wear them and smell like him. Even that first moment yeosang looked at you wearing his shirt after he asked you too, his sharp eyes clouding.

You realize none of them had asked that before. Was it because they were too scared to ask you? You have always been private with your affections before lately, it had been drilled into you not too. Somehow, yeosang was the first person to ask and he never mentioned it again, never hinted at anything about you wearing his clothes ever.

Now, he's much more touchy and vocal. His pretty mouth always complimenting you under his breath. Eyes always scanning your features when you passionately talk. Letting you hold his hands and never pulls away. You don't know if the sudden change was because of your assigned sex but you believe he just got more comfortable knowing you're okay with it, knowing you're reciprocating it.

With all of them being there. And you are. You're finally able to let someone else take care of you.

And even lately. Mingi is so clingy, you love that type of attention even if you don't say it. Mingi who has given you space because the guys told him he's too rough, who's waiting his turn patiently- when you know he's so eager and never ever patient. Mingi, when he gets food and gives you the first bite.

In your comments every live you do with atiny. Pokes and prods for any type of affection and praise. Uses his aegyo to get whatever he wants from you. Says he'd marry you because you're a full package and you take care of him well. His words, unprovoked.

When asked to choose between all the members. He said your name asap. When stranded on an island. He said he'd take you. And, you find that hilarious, cause he could have taken anything else, water, a boat, food, a way to get out, but he said he'd take you.

San, you'd never forget how he follows you backstage everywhere. Whines whenever you spend too much time with another idol. Clings to you when you're getting your face done because he knows you can't shrug him off, or you'll mess up your makeup.

When he stares at you, and it's so often, you have to tell him to stop before someone gets the wrong impression. When San ‘accidently’ scares other idols off because well- he's built compared to how he was when he was a couple of ages ago. When not long ago he wasn't able to pick you up, and now he does it whenever he wants too. And you let him cause his grip is so tight and his smile is so big you can't help but give in.

Not excluding how he acts up on stage, or during your parts together, he can't get that sly grin off his face, or won't stop staring at your lips when you're singing- or rapping right in front of him.

Aswell as when wooyoung clings to you, wraps his strong arms around you and doesn't let you go until you give him what he wants. Says you're his soulmate, even when you mention yeosang or san, he says you're his other half, and he can't live in a world with only half of himself.

Even happily leans in to almost kiss you in front of a crowd just because you pouted at him. Begs for your attention when you don't respond to his questions, even if he said it two seconds prior. Literally can't breathe without you in his proximity sometimes.

His words, not yours, he said it so boldly behind the scenes you two had together. Like it was nothing. Woo, who you know watches your solo fancams. Cause you caught him once. And the only thing he said was “I'm supporting my girl friend” grinning so proudly and pretended he didn't hint at the connotation behind it. “I’m not a girl, I’m a woman” you'd casually say, shutting the door and cutting off any more communication.

Wow, for the first time in years. Maybe you're realizing they haven't sought you out —even though they love you— because you were pushing them away. Not giving them the time of day and continuously denying their affections. You did notice, but maybe you pretended it wasn't true. Didn't think you could have a happy ending with them if you went through with it. But they're here, and they're even telling you they love you, they've been telling you. because they do, they love you.

Seonghwa is proving that to you right now. Feeding you, bathing you, caressing you, letting you hug on him so much so you know wooyoung would be jealous. Taking care of you. Seonghwa pulls his hand back from your scalp, the sorrowful smell is coming from you and he's starting to rapidly think he did something wrong. His hand lands on your shoulder, his head peeking past your hair as he bends forward, water sloshes when he does so.

“What's wrong?” He says so sweetly, your tears begin to flow the most now. You hate crying, why do you do it so much nowadays? “Nothing, I'm just- I'm happy” you huff out, swiping at your tears as you lean your head back on his shoulder. “Oh Angel,” he coos, grabbing your chin, his thumb rubs a soothing stripe, his fingers encasing your neck. “I know it's something else” he stares between your eyes. You feel embarrassed, of course he was gonna know. Of course he's noticing it's something else, cause seonghwas got a perfect sense of smell when it comes to you.

“I'm sorry I'm noticing so late” you cry gently, lip trembling. “I'm sorry I didn't notice it sooner, I was scared” you turn away when seonghwas hand falls away, rubbing up and down your arm. “Scared you wouldn't like me back, I was - upset cause- I knew- I thought you all wouldn't be okay with it.. I wanted to be with you. I want to be your girlfriend. All of you. I didn't know I could have that.” You sob through words.

Seonghwa would say this sudden rush of emotion is partially because of your heat, it's also you. Something you've built up and finally is popping due to some tlc. His arms wrap around your waist, maneuvering you to face him. You let him do so, lighter in the pink water. In all your nakedness, your completely vulnerable in front of him.

Telling him exactly how you feel and trusting him with it. He places two heavy palms against your face, caging your cheeks in. He stares, and stares. So many thoughts, words, and things he could do in the moment. “I've wanted you for so long” he says instead. Pushing out a memory from years ago to the surface.

“When we were both younger- Especially when I was first joining, you were the first person that I wanted to see most often.” He tugs on his bottom lip. “I thought you were the prettiest person ever. Cool too. I had never seen someone like you before. I thought “is she from a different place?” I didn't know you could exist. I thought you were something else entirely.'' he nods into his words, you hiccup.

Clenching your palms around his wrist tenderly. “I've been in love with you since I met you. I would have followed you anywhere. I still will. I’ll gladly share, it just means they notice how amazing you are. And so does atiny. You're worth everything to those seven guys out there. And me. I promise, you could have been decades late and i still would have said yes.” maybe Seonghwa is spilling his guts here. But how your eyes sparkle with unshedded tears, face so puffy and lips so dainty, he feels the need to be honest.

Images flash over the years, you in different hair colors. Outfits, stages. He's got everything about you memorized. You're addicting and your personality gives him whiplash. Good whiplash. The type that makes him so flustered on camera if he catches you watching him talk.

The type that makes him feel so bold on stage, letting loose. The type of good whiplash he's getting from watching you. Honest for the first time in years. He loves this, he shouldn't, but he does. He loves holding you, loves having you lean on him emotionally. Just so he can tell you everything he completely means.

He wants to show the world he loves you. Tell the world he wants you to be his partner for life. He wants to be your mate. He knows he can't have that luxury yet, you're hardly even dating and you're still both so very young.

Got many years ahead, yet he wants it sooner than ever. He knows he can't show you off like that or else it's a scandal and the media would flip.

Your hands surround his face, holding his jaw. Your eyes slot close as you pull him into your puffy lips, telling him everything he needs to know with your fragile kiss. He breaths into you, capturing you into him ever so gradually. When you pull away, he's leaning his head into your neck and you do the same. Staying there for a second. Pushing his scent out for you.

There's no need to talk when seonghwa threads his hands through the rest of your hair to evenly spread the conditioner. You're scrubbing your body free from the actions of this week. You're feeling cleaner, but more exposed without yunho, or hongjoongs scent on you. Thankfully, yunho and hongjoong have a thing for biting.

The marks are evidence that they were there with you. Your finger passes over the scabbing bite on your inner thigh. Seonghwa peppers your shoulder with kisses when he pulls your hair over to rinse it. Soft and innocent. The feeling is homely and docile. He pats your hip to have you stand up so you can both rinse off the remnants of the bath water and soap.

The shower head connects to the top of the tub. You watch the marble pattern of white and pink drain from under your feet, letting the warmth from the new water beat down on your shoulders. Seonghwa is just outside the water, standing behind you and moving your hair around to rinse it. You pull it from his hand, turning to face him.

“aren't you cold?” You ask. Squeezing the ends. He shakes his head. “No..” he trails off looking away, too shy to meet your gaze. Although you both are naked, having been in the bath for a bit longer than you should have, he's still trying to be respectful and avoid looking at you inappropriately. “Liar” you laugh, sticking your hand out to grab him and pull him under the stream with you. He closes his eyes with a smile, water cascading down his face. You're closer because the stream of water doesn't spread far. You squeeze the last soapy drops out of your hair.

Something about seonghwa just letting the water fall over him has you staring. Water that flicks off his closed eyelashes and drips over the curve of his lips. When he pulls his hands up to push his hair back. You watch his biceps flex. His lips part to blow away the water that drips into his mouth. Missing you by a centimeter. Like some type of commercial, seonghwa looks beautiful just pushing his hair back. His eyes part, as if he feels you staring.

A piece of his black hair flicking over his forehead, his eyebrow raises. Your lip tugs up, caught red handed. “sorry” you bite your lip looking away. “You're staring” he blatantly says. Sharp eyes scanning you, he steps back from the shower stream so you can have it. “I know, it's hard not too” you mumble, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach, closing your eyes under the patter of water.

You flick your hair once, then throw it over your back. Seonghwas hand finds your waist, flat as he palms it around your back, tugging you into him so you both are under the water. His humming is a buzz against your chest. You part your eyes through the water, lacing your hands around his neck. It's cute, it's nice. Not something you'd ever think you'd indulge in. You flicker water over his face when you blow it out of your mouth.

Apologizing quietly as he closes his eyes and grimaces. “sorry” you swipe your hand against his face, he's acting as if you spat on him. You laugh when he turns away from your palm. “You spat all over me” he groans, still holding onto you. Both hands this time pressed against your back. “no I didn't, it's just water” you gleam, lips parting as your smile grows wider.

“‘Just water’ that came out of your mouth” the smile behind his words has you knowing he's playing with you. “Are you saying my mouth is gross?” you go to pull back, playing as petty as you can. His hands shoot up to lock you back into him, hands holding your arms there. A singular one of his eyes pops open.

“No, Your mouth is perfect,” he says clearly, leaning down to peck your lips. You pull away before he can, his lips landing half on your cheek. “Why kiss me if my mouth is gross?” You huff, stomping your foot. Seonghwa doesn't pull back, as if intentionally meaning to land there. He trails a kiss over your jaw, down the junction of your neck, and right over your primary glands. You tilt your head for him. Basking in the way his lips part the droplets of water on you.

“Fine, I'll kiss you everywhere else then.” He mumbles against your collarbone as his head dips. Your hands thread through his wet hair. Breathing heavier when he starts sucking. Already creating a hickey right above your collarbone, opposite of where Yunho bit you, he's nipping lightly with his two front teeth, teasingly. His hand trails, water cascading down his fingertips. His fingertips just scan the plump of your butt. And move over your hips. He kneads the skin there, dipping his fingertips to pull you further into him.

You're already beginning to shift your thighs. Needy, so needy. Seonghwas left hand slides down to lightly swipe your inner thigh so they open. You part them, sighing heavily when he pushes his digits through your heat, already pushing two into your wet core. He pays no mind to your clit, knowing the lack of stimulation will tease you.

Slowly dragging his fingers in and out, until the tip of them is in and he's drilling them back up. You wiggle, trying to hook anything against your most sensitive area, it's not enough. Your whimper has seonghwa smiling against the junction of your neck, he trails back up, sloppy kisses as he sucks and leaves ribbons of red splotches. He kisses your jaw and hovers just over your lips.

You want to lean up to catch his lips in yours, you whimper again when his fingers dig into your hip. You begin to unlatch yourself from his shoulder to trail your hands somewhere else. One hard flick of his wrist against your insides has your eyes clenching close, he stops not a second after, and you wiggle at the loss sensation building.

“don't move,” he says with a heavy tone, staring down at your expressions. So close, he's teasing you with his lips. “if you move, you don't get me” he pinches your chin between his fingers. Squishing your cheek with the hand that was just on your hip. He works his fingers slowly again. His palm slapping against your bud. You twitch forward into him. Trying to plant your feet so you aren't moving. His eyes dig for every reaction you have, soft drops of water trailing down his face and into yours.

It's hard to reach a high like this, but you're so desperate, he knows that. Hanging off every curve of his finger, every bend of his digits as they slip into you. Getting wetter with each slap of his palm against your bundle. So close, yet so far, you're not there yet, but you're trying to be.

The water is an added stimulus, dripping down both of your faces, and his palm. Flicking back on you and mixing with your slick. You're clenching. Trying to push that high closer. One more prod of seonghwas finger has your gasp getting stuck in your throat. A third finger slipping into you. He wiggles it with the other two, the fit is tight, you spread open further to take it. Seonghwa groans at that, glad at you presenting and opening further for him and just him in the moment.

You clench down again, and almost as soon as he stuck it in, the tightness loosened with more of your slick. He watches for every twitch of your eyebrow, every quiet moan. His eyes lidded. No attention to his aching cock straining against his stomach. Your fingers keep him grounded. Tugging at the end of his long hair. He gives in when he looks down at your wet lips.

Taking you into him with a singular breath. He moans into your mouth, as you do him, tugging and pulling into each other. His tongue slips in, pressing against your own. You taste how he'd imagine, so sweet, so willing. His fingers stop their antics.

It's enough prep for seonghwa. You clench one final time as he pulls them out, swallowing your whines. He pulls away to suck on your exposed glands. His hands falling away to grip your thighs, he tugs once to signal he's pulling you up. Your arms wrap around his shoulders tightly, lifting your thigh up against his hip so he can pull you in. He lifts you with ease, slotting down to his knees in the tub.

The press of his cock slides between you, it has you arching into it. Hard and throbbing for attention against your clit. You want it. “Hwa” you whine, grinding up into him. He slaps his hand down on your thigh, you jump into him. Continuing his assault on your neck with a strangled moan. Sloppily, his teeth scan over your gland, your head falls slack. You're puddy.

When his teeth are there, you're so tempted to beg him to mark you, mate you in your most delicate area. “Please hwa,” you grind up again, the ridge of his cock pressed between your folds, thighs flexing against his hips. Holding onto him close, he doesn't spank you that time. “Go on, use me” he whispers, teasing his teeth against your gland. You grind up again, with the help of his hands.

“Should I? Take you right here, make you mine.” His tone is heavy with desire. Your clit throbs and you buck, letting his cock catch against you. You clench around nothing, not yet filled, but so close to cumming from his fingers moments ago. You sob “Yes, make me yours'' you bite down on your tongue.

The water is nothing compared to the sensation of seonghwas cock burying between your folds and teasing your hole with every stroke, his hips stuttering up into you at your words. He knows you don't mean it, knows you're caught in the heat of the moment. Everything you say can be taken with a grain of salt. You twitch forward, grinding down, your clit drags against the top vein on his dick. His tongue lapping at the spot on your neck.

He helps you, guides you to press down with his fingers digging across the top of your thighs. Soft breaths at the humping of you. Your mouth falls over his shoulder, biting against the same spot you had him in earlier. Whimpering against his skin. He knows this is torture, for both of you, but he can't stop. You feel so good like this, and he knows as soon as he slips in, it's gonna be hard for him to wait for you to adjust.

“Hwa, I want you inside, please, please alpha” you beg. He doesn't answer. Your climax is arriving without you noticing it, gasping into his shoulder. His teeth scrape against your glands as he moves to bite just below it, making it prominent in the spot he chose. His jaw locks, you stutter up. A painful and sudden orgasm as you cum from just humping against him.

You huff and pant. Seonghwas hand prys between the both of you, gripping his cock tightly. He hisses, lightly guiding it back and forth so it presses against your hole.

You're still coming down when he pushes inside, moaning into your shoulder. He fits all the way to the hilt with a single drag of his hips upwards. Letting your walls flutter. You whine at the fill, he's big- big like yunho, display of veins that throb when he fully sheaths inside, you tremble from the extra stimulation. Panting against seonghwas ear.

His large hands pry against your thighs, and move up to your hips. He swings them forward for you when you lean against his chest. Breath stuttering. “‘s too much” you gasp, whimpering at the overstimulation. His head falls back. His eyes flutter close at the way you wrap him in, lips parting to breath. “You can take it” he bites back, “I know you can” his hands fall over each of your cheeks, pulling you as close as possible.

The water bill is gonna be high. But Seonghwa doesn't think about it. The water is just an extra sensation when the best one is your cunt so tightly sucking him in. He moans once more when you pull yourself forward and back. Helping him with the swirl of your hips. Still begging for more when you just came. He tugs his lip down into his teeth.

Might as well get you here if you're both being cleaned off. His thighs snap up against you as he buries back in again. Cock pounding against your cervix. A heavy rhythm of water sloshing between you two. Your hands pooling over his lean shoulders as you fall into him with every hard thrust. Your first orgasm is gone but your second one is building.

Seonghwa can feel it, you pulse and twitch. Squishy walls pulling him in and attempting to milk him. His cock throbs every so often. His hands pulling your ass forward with every pound of his pelvis. Your whimpers are dragging him on. Your lips pressing against his own scent glands.

The sting of his thighs aching so wonderfully as he feels himself building up with you. Your mouth latches against the gland, cutting off your moans. He snaps up, and your teeth drag against his skin. “Come on angel, I know you want to,” he moans. “bite me- auh- mark me as yours,” he whimpers, his eyes clenching. You moan too. Cunt clenching in response. The tip hitting your cervix. It has him airily chuckling and huffing curse words. “do it, do it-I want you to do it, ah- shit. ‘make you the happiest girl in the world” he bucks, knees sliding forward as he does so.

You must be tempted to do so. Your teeth prod into his flesh, not yet breaking skin, not even enough to leave a mark. Your hips swirl forward messily. Clit catching against the small patch of rough hair he has growing against his lower stomach. “I'll do you good omega, take care of you every night like the perfect mate-ah” his words trail off into a strangled moan.

“No- mmm- protection like this, no shitty- fuck- birth control, whenever we want” he stutters up, water dripping off his face as he turns it down to look at you on his shoulder. Mouth lulled open and eyes closed tightly shut. “hope it takes- give you some- shit-” you clench again, thighs squeezing on either side of his hips as he swirls you forward, using all his strength to pound his cock up into you. “Hwa- give me it’ all of it- plea- ah!” You get cut off as he pulls all the way out to just pound back into you. “im gonna give you it-” his hips snap up as yours snap down, full weight being pressed onto him.

“wanna pump you full of my cum until you're leaking- until you smell like me all the time- fuck- give you my all” he ruts up into you, knot beginning to grow. Watching the way you suck him in. Images of you every night, waiting for him floods his imagination. He has you here now, in the shower. Desperate to have you cumming hard, and marking him as yours. Muffling your moans in his neck.

“‘m gonna cum soon hwa-” you pull up to tell him, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, he watches the water drip from your forehead and over your lips. “I want to mate- please- please mate me- meant to be yours- all of yours” you whine out between heavy pants and moans, staring back up into his eyes. Water pouring over your features as you struggle to swing your hips forward. He wants it so bad. Wants to make you his and give you everything you want, spoil you like his perfect little angel and have you whenever he wants.

The tense feeling in his stomach pops, his knot shooting out to interlock inside you. Hot spurts of cum as well splatters against your silky walls. You twitch and come just as quickly after, he moans into you as he falls back over your shoulder. He bites hard, doesn't even recognize where he does, but he knows it's not your primary spot. His hips rutting into you as he guides your hips for you. His free hand shoots out to hold onto the side of the tub as he doubles over into you. You wheeze loudly, biting into his shoulder. Hard enough to bleed, you twitch just as hard. Pulsing against the warmth surrounding your cunt.

He chants your name as you drain the last of his energy and cum. Biting on his tongue to quiet down. The water beats down on his back and falls over your face. Droplets that are clear and showcase the climax you just went through. He pants hard over the bite, opening his eyes gently to peer down at it. So close, so damn close to piercing your sensitive spot.

His knot stops growing in the quietness, the pattern of water padding down your back, legs still interlocked around him to keep him inside you. Intentionally or not, seonghwa wants it to be. He meant it, he wants his cum to stick and leave you full of him, his scent, his being.

He digs his nose into your neck, smelling you deeply in his lungs. His hands are tight around your back. Palms spread wide to keep you close. Breathing in tandem as you both come down from your highs. For a second he lets his hand reach out to pull up the bath plug so the water fills the tub. Water drips from the tip of your heads. Chest to chest.

He can feel your heartbeat thumping loudly. His knot is definitely thicker and bigger than yunhos. It's hard to even move because of it. A heavy and thick weight in the pit of your stomach that presses towards your clit when you wiggle.

You whimper from the sensitivity. Seonghwa Hushes you softly. “I know, it's a tight fit” he groans with you, pulling back to glance down. You're not bleeding, which is a good thing, you shouldn't be. Seonghwa had prepped you enough. It's still a hard squeeze for you. He avoids the connection with his eyes.

It's not a good idea for him to pop another boner when he's still inside. Your arms fall around his chest, pulling him back closer. Face pressed against his left peck. Your eyes are squinted close, lips pouting. Seonghwa smooths the damp hair from your face, caging your body into him with his other hand.

“You okay?” he asks, leaning down to see you. His eyebrows are furrowed, your eyes part, nodding tiredly. “‘m good. perfect.” you pout your lips out for a kiss, seonghwa indulges you. Cupping your cheek in his palm and wrapping his top lip into yours. You sigh into the kiss. Seonghwa fucks hard and fast, your hips ache so sweetly. Although you tried to move as much as you could, you let seonghwa use you like you did him. And you're happy he did, cause you'd be aching again. His knot isn't as tight anymore, a slow deflate that makes you miss it.

As it goes, you lean yourself into seonghwa. Appreciation lingers off your lips when you kiss up into him, and your other arm curls around to land behind his neck, playing with the hair there. His hands rub up and down your arms. Comforting you without words. His bottom lip sucking into yours.

Sweet and strong, hints of coffee on his tongue. His eyes part open when he pulls back, kissing the corner of your mouth once more. His hands caress down, over your shoulders, spine, lower back, hips, then thighs. His fingers ply the fat at the top and work on massaging his thumbs into the inner part, soothing the twist and ache in them.

“I shoulda been more careful, I'm sorry angel” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You shake your head into his shoulder. Pulling back enough to kiss the mark you left. “Don't be sorry, I liked it.” you mumble, thoroughly blissed out. The tub sloshes when seonghwa begins to lean back, taking his knees out from under him. He keeps you close. Never breaking the knot in the middle that connects you two.

His hands are soft and comfortable, stroking along your spine and hips as his knot proceeds to shrink. He's already got a cloth between his fingers, rubbing away any spit from your neck and padding the coolest part over your warm forehead. His eyes look down at you with so much adoration you begin to feel shy.

You close your eyes to cut his stare off. The cloth flops down into the water when he lets it go. He thumbs your chin, propping it on his fingers, his thumb swiping along your bottom lip. You blink open your eyes, tiredly. You need a nap. Seonghwa can tell. “Do you want to go back to your room? We can lay around in the living room too. You don't have to, though.” he nods into his words. Caressing your chin with his thumb.

“All of them will be there.” he mumbles the rest, quietly over the running bath water. You nod your head, a smile coming to the surface. “yes, that sounds nice” you huff. A nice comfy couch full of your boys completing surrounding you? Sounds like heaven. “Okay angel, we'll go,” Seonghwa smiles, his eyes guiding to your lips. He lands a soft kiss there.

Seonghwas clothing fits like a glove. After he cleaned you up, and you both rinsed off once more, he took it upon himself to dress you in his comfiest clothing. You would know. You steal the same clothes often. His oversized fluffy white sweater is spacious enough you don't feel claustrophobic. His white loose pants have a silky texture, something you know will give you some freedom to move. Along with your matching bra and undie set, you don't know when he picked it out.

His cheeky grin is something you shake your head at. And lastly, a pair of socks. He must truly be trying to make you look like an angel, cause you're dressed in all white currently.

“Are you trying to make me look like your angel?” You ask, teasingly, leaning your head back against his shoulder, his hand threads through your scalp. Quick kisses placed along your chin, circling around and then your lips. He's dressed in all black, a contrast to you. Seonghwa knows his colors. He grins into his kisses.

“Maybe, or you look good in white” he doesn't give you a proper answer, his hands wrapping around your waist and pushing you forward. The door swings open thanks to you, it's a lot colder in the hallway than it is in the bathroom. Your hand falls over his on your waist, threading your fingers over his. A slight chill crawling down your spine when he pushes you two on.

As soon as the living room comes into view. You're scanning, the only person on the couch is Yeosang. He seems to notice you two, sitting up to lean against the couch, a pleasantly surprised look on his face. Seonghwa unwraps his hands from your waist,

Equally confused that all of the guys are gone. You're bouncing on the ball of your feet. Making your way over to yeosang with a shy grin. “Hi” he says, eyes gleaming with fondness. He's reaching his hand out, subtly, fingers wiggling over the arm rest.

You crawl under his lean arms, fully burying yourself into his side and breathing his scent in. You're very comfortable until he turns away, taking his attention with him as he addresses seonghwa. The said male turns to look over his shoulder just as he's about to enter the kitchen.

“Hongjoong told me to have you call” his hand falls over your waist, tugging you gently into him some more. He's telling you he's still here with you, subtly. “What for?” Seonghwas surprised voice echoes from the kitchen.

“Don't know, he didn't say.” he shrugs, turning back to look at you. A small but gentle smile crawling over his lips. “Hey, i missed you” he says in a small way. Shyly pulling his lips into a grin. You lean up to nose his jaw as close as you can reach. “Miss you more” you smile. “Where did the guys go?” You ask, snuggling into his side. His hand comes up to thread through your hair. “Out, they'll be back sometime soon” he answers you, looking down at your quickly relaxing figure.

Hongjoongs got a lot going on lately. It's pressure, a lot like usual. Immediately after you had been taken away for your bath and he got the guys separate from each other. His phone was buzzing, blinking the screen off the kitchen counter. He stalked over and immediately hit the answer button. Someone on the other side who he wasn't expecting. The security he had felt moments ago had been washed away in an instant.

How could schedule conflicts intercept your heat sanctuary booking? It makes no sense to hongjoong as he sits and thinks about it, phone pressed closer to his ear. He's leaning over the counter, head down. He doesn't know what to do exactly, would you want him to find you a different heat sanctuary? Or would you prefer the apartment? Home. The specific one seonghwa had picked out was completely secure, double, triple checked and official. Luxurious too. Most celebrities with omega sex use that specific heat sanctuary. It's completely secure. No press whatsoever.

But this is complicated now. Hongjoong has got to figure something out. He's got, a bit, of a plan. Search for heat sanctuaries and make sure they're safe for you. He's got jongho, yunho, mingi- for some reason he didn't trust mingi- wooyoung and San. The same goes for those two. Yunho's driving. Hongjoongs in the passenger seat, jongho behind the driver, wooyoung behind hongjoong, San in the middle, and lastly, in the final row, mingi is placed in the back. He lost the bet on the way to the van.

They've already visited about five places. Jongsik has taken time out of his day to help them look, he's got two places down so far. It's not enough, and it's not easy hiding identities. Hongjoong has already gotten the most stressed out he can be. He really doesn't know why he's so stressed. Maybe the possibility of making his potential-future-current ma-girlfriend upset has him uneasy. He's got to provide like you asked.

The buzzing from the guys in the back seat has joong anxious, drowning out their words in the back of his mind. It pools and it settles, eating away at his thoughts. The highway is a blur of bright sun and reflections gleaming off cars. His phone, the saving grace, rings.

“Hello?” he says, It's answered quickly. Seonghwas voice calls his name on the other side. Relief relaxes his bones. “Hey, where did-” “is she nearby?” He's begging for an answer. Seonghwa shuffles on the other side. “no, she's on the couch with yeosang” perfect. “Look, her heat sanctuary reservation got canceled at the last minute. They- they misbooked her for two months in advance- I don't understand how it-”

“Hongjoong.” Seonghwa stops his rambling with a hard call of his name. “We can figure this out, just come back, all of you.” seonghwa is convincing, cause then, hongjoong let's out the sigh he has been holding for a while.

Somehow mingi must have picked up on the call. He's already watching the car turn around and head home. Where they'll have to talk about it with seonghwa, your primary caretaker for your heat, and figure something out. Mingi didn't understand the sudden panic coming from the captain. Yes, it's stressful. But wouldn't you prefer being at home anyways? It would do you good to just stay in the comfort of the apartment in his opinion.

Unbeknownst to him, jongho is thinking the same thing. They've been at this for at least a solid two hours. You must miss them by now. And he definitely misses you. He misses not sitting next to sans bulky shoulders. He's going down the list of things he'd prefer than being in a cramped van, and you're most of them. He'd prefer being with you on the couch, cuddling, being touchy, maybe napping. Something ridiculous like that, Jongho didn't think he'd associate himself with domesticity. But he doesn't mind if it's you. He welcomes it, if it's coming from you.

Yunho has been the observer this while, quiet, unnervingly quiet, actually. Even Wooyoung and San debated a second ago about it. Ever since he asked his first couple of questions, he's stuck to just letting everyone else do what they're doing. This ride feels pointless but it's indeed Important. He just wonders why hongjoong didn't pull seonghwa aside and explain the situation at the apartment. But then again, Yunho realizes your heat is supposed to hit today. So that must be why the captain is freaking out. Trying to help in any way he can. There's really no guarantee you're okay with being at home. Yunho would hope you preferred the apartment. But it was your idea to be at the heat sanctuary. So, it's gonna cause chaos when they find out it's been canceled.

It really isn't his place to voice that though, he's not your primary caretaker. Seonghwa is. And if he has to say something then- he will. He'll say it to seonghwa. Because currently, hongjoong is sweating bullets in the passenger seat. Yunho doesn't want to stress him out anymore. The drive back is silent, buzzing with unspoken energy. Wooyoung and San are even whispering, debating, loud enough for everyone to hear. You are on the tip of their tongues as they talk. No one says anything about it, they're voicing the same concerns everyone has had up until that moment. “Do you think she wants to be home for it?” Wooyoung asks and san huffs. “I don't know, I can't read her mind” he sighs into his words, pouting.

Yeosang has been great company, he's perfect actually. He holds you close and talks about the movie with you, a jurassic park movie. One of the older ones, after scouring all of the apps, he finally took the remote from you and put one on. Dragging you into him, you've got your head on his lap. As he strokes your hair, watching the movie with focused attention.

With one of the throw blankets hanging off the two of you. Your eyes have already closed once, but when he moved his thigh you twitched them back open. Sleepily watching the movie. Behind your head, he has been watching you most of the time. Watching your shoulders fall with every breath. You shift your feet to curl up further, tugging your head closer to him. Sighing every so often. Yawning as well. Yeosang knows you're tired.

He'd never admit it out loud but he tried to block out every event from the morning, he's got a keen sense of hearing. He had to excuse himself already to calm down. Yunho popped into their shared room last night, and for a second, yeosang debated with himself on asking if he could join you two for some after time. He didn't though. And as Yunho left without noticing he was awake, he fell into a thoughtless dream after.

But this is what he needs. You, so very close. Clueless to the mess the guys are trying to fix. Just relaxing into him. He doesn't know the last time you actually relaxed. You've been chaotically stressed for- well- forever. He might even say you have anxiety. The way you have melted into them at any affection for the past week makes his heart swell.

You deserve affection and praise. Yeosang likes this a lot. Just existing together. He hopes you could do this for the future, just relax with him. Not worry so much about things. You're not even the captain and yet, you're the most. doting of the group. practically the one who holds the weight of the group on your shoulders before events whenever you notice any one of them feeling crowded.

Maybe- he thinks for a second, as his fingers caress over your neck, along your collarbone. Maybe you've always had this second sex deep down.

Bodies shuffle through the front door, the jingle of keys echoing as they clatter against the key dish. Your head doesn't prop itself from yeosangs’s lap. You're most definitely asleep. His hand goes to cover your exposed ear at the loudness. Looking up from over the TV to the entrance. Just as san rounds the corner, yeosang is gesturing him to being quiet. His face lights up when he sees you, contrary to the confused look he had before. He takes the spot opposite yeosang, towards the end of your feet. His hand sliding up to pat your calf. “How long has she been asleep for?” he never breaks his eyes from your face as he asks.

Yeosang does the same. “A bit” he nods to confirm. The couch begins to get crowded, Yunho pops up against the space behind the couch, reaching over to pull the blanket further up your shoulders silently. Jonghos next, standing next to yunho. His arms lean over the back of the couch so he can watch Yunho pull the blanket up. And then there's mingi. Who is loudly stomping through the door with wooyoung.

Both arguing about well- probably nothing serious. Your once serene sleeping face scrunches as the discussion meets your ears. Loud shushes come from the guys just as yeosang grimaces. Jongho leans away to scold Mingi. As san does the same. Getting up from his spot on the couch gently so as to not wake you. Hush whispers and apologies filling the living room over the volume of the TV.

Hongjoong is at seonghwa's door as soon as he sees he isn't in the living room. You're fast asleep and he did watch your face for a second before he left to talk to the dark haired guy. Seonghwa lets him in. As soon as he steps through the door hongjoong is explaining his point of view. Where they were. What they were doing.

“It's okay, I had a backup, they take last minute reservations.” Seonghwa reassures him. Reaching for the stack of papers on his bed. “We talked about it that day, remember?” It's a bit of a blur but. Yes, Joong remembers when they sat around your door that day. A phone call that lasted fifty minutes. He takes a seat on seonghwas bed with him. Confirming with a “Yeah, I do”

Seonghwa slips a piece of paper towards joong. Tapping on one of the lines. It's in seonghwas writing. Notes from that day. Contacts for the heat sanctuary, a line of three. Backups, he assumes. “I haven’t placed the reservation yet.” seonghwa, says. Biting on his bottom lip gently. Joong fiddles with the papers between his fingers.“I was thinking we could ask if she would want to stay here for her heat” hongjoong says.

Seonghwas eyes shoot open in surprise. He thinks for a second, nodding his head after. His eyes come up to make contact with hongjoongs.

“it doesn't hurt to ask”

Mingi stands completely rigid at the end of the hallway, the majority of the guys are the same. Standing back against the wall as they watch you work at tugging the blankets and pillows across the living room. It's a strange sight, you on your knees, tossing left and right. Your forehead creases with the amount of focus you're putting into it. He left for two seconds to find his phone and you're already awake.

“Is she doing what I think she's doing?” He asks first. Just as you're sitting on your knees, looking around at the circle of blankets uncomfortably. Yunho, somehow, is the first to say something when he notices your expressions. “She needs more blankets. Get blankets! Pillows! Clothes, whatever- go” he pushes bodies into the hallway, most of them bump into mingi and get to spreading out.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong are still in hwas's shared room when suddenly the burst of san and mingi interrupt their discussion. The clatter of people in the hallway has them concerned, doors swinging open and bouncing off the wall, stomping of feet, what the hell is going on out there? San is tossing his blankets over his shoulder, pillows as well. Mingi, well- Mingi is grabbing anything he can fit in his arms.

There's the sudden sensation of knowing exactly what's going on. Cause as they watch for seconds as their members frantically pull their own scent covered blankets and sheets. Seonghwa and joong shoot up to do the same. Hongjoong feet skid to a stop in the hallway. You're in clear view. Kneading and pawing at the blankets. A frustrated pout over your lips. It's a cute sight until he completely bumps into jongho and wooyoung.

Clothing spiraling out of their hands and mixing along the floor. Jongho isn't cursing out hongjoong, just in general when he bends down to pick up what he can. Dumping it just outside the sacred ring of your makeshift nest, like an offering. Wooyoung on the other hand, is whining about how his clothes and jonghos clothes are now mixed up. He hates that. As well as coming in second when he completely drops his clothes closest to the line that's your nest.

Jongho childishly sticks his tongue out at wooyoung. Wooyoung does the same. Pushing the younger members shoulder.

You reach out of the circle. Debating on whose clothing to grab first, your hand hovers. But it then pulls back to pry on your bottom lip. Thinking. Your eyebrows scrunch. You're very cute at this moment, jongho and wooyoung both think so. Wooyoung is a bundle of impatience while jongho’ hands twitch every so often together. When you reach out again, you grab both of their ankles.

Surely, they weren't expecting that. Quite literally did you pick both, you're now pulling them into the circle with tough yanks. They both don't waste a second, entering the sacred area that is your nest. They've never been let into a nest, so they really don't know what to do, standing awkwardly in a mix of their own scents. “Off” you point to their shirts.

Perhaps the freshness of their scents is why you want their shirts. You don't have to ask twice. Wooyoung almost sloppily pulls off his full top over his head, a graphic hoodie. Whilst jongho, completely pulls his shirt off with minor hesitation and hands it to you, you smile. Shoving your face into it. Wooyoung, finally able to, gets his hoodie and shirt off in one go.

He hands it to you as soon as you look up, face beaming up at him so brightly, he swears his heart skips a beat. You go to shove the shirts and hoodie into the outer layer of the nest, adding to the wall. You stop abruptly, looking back up at the two men who stare in wonder. The dropping of a zipper sliding against the wood floor has them jumping. “Why are you in the circle!.. where are your shirts-” San whines pointing fingers accusingly at the two men, a pile of his and mingis clothing and blankets stack like a mountain on the floor. Mingi is pouting aswell, bending down to look at you.

“Can I help?” He asks urgently, nodding his head, hand reaching out towards the edge of the nest. You take a second, staring, mingi is sweating. He wants to help, wants you to say yes, he can be good, can keep his hands to himself, he can provide like a good alpha. “Will you help me?” you bite your bottom lip. You reach for his hand, pulling him in. Mingi gets to work, lining up the edges with clothes he brought. “No fair! I want to help!” Wooyoung whined, dropping down to his knees in front of you. “Mega, I can help right?” “Me too!” jongho interjects, dropping down on his knees as well. Wooyoung shoots him daggers over his shoulder.

You smile, and hand them the clothing you've grabbed. San is busy pouting, arms crossed over his chest. He's got an ego at the moment and he doesn't feel like begging, too busy watching the other guys smooth out clothing. Your soft hands reach to pet over his crossed arms, unfurling them and pulling him inside the circle with the gentleness san is melting at. The others are too busy building the edges to notice he was pouting seconds before.

Lost in their own corners. You pull him down and tug him to the free space on the nest. It's big enough for everyone to have their own corners. Enough to have the space. “The furniture is in the way” you pout, grabbing his hands in yours. “Will you move it please?”

Wow, the way sans moves so quickly. You would have said he turned into the flash. His hands are pushing the extremely large center table. Yunho has to stop him with a hand on the other end, tossing his clothes to the side. San perks up, hands on his hips as he stands tall opposite of the other alpha. “She asked me, not you,” he brags, it doesn't cause any harm. Yunho laughs.

“I'm sure she doesn't mind, right ‘mega?” You perk at his call, looking over your shoulder from next to mingi. “don't fight” you huff, pouting. They shake their heads. “We'll play nice” San waves his hand, trying to push your worries away. He's actually thankful that Yunho showed, he might have thrown his back out if he didn't. Yunho helps san as the center table is pushed as far to the wall as it could go, as well as the couch, pushed towards the window to make room. As soon as they're done they're joining you in the nest, bumping shoulders to open the area.

Yeosang, seonghwa, and hongjoong come last. Meticulously chosen clothing and blankets in hand. “I'm glad I vacuumed '' seonghwa grimaces, the floor isn't the best place. In his opinion, you all should just move just because he doesn't deem it good enough for you. That really is the alpha in him talking. Hongjoong moves on, doesn't even acknowledge it. He places his clothes down as he squats, calling your name for your attention. He reaches his hand out.

“Joongie'' you smile, fingers slipping into his own. Your pupils are blown, must be in omega mindspace cause as soon as you grab him you're digging your face into his neck, he giggles at the sensation. You pull back and peck his lips. Rubbing your nose against his. “Come!” You beckon seonghwa and yeosang as well, making a grabbing motion.

You've got a giant circle going, it spans almost the entire living room. The sheets are the first layer in the center. Followed up by piles of clothing on the edges, and lastly blankets folded for comfort. no one questions how everyone has removed their shirts. You've got all of their missing clothing in your grasp, draped across you as you work your fingers at pulling a blanket over the tilted sideways couch, it's like a little cave, big enough for two just in case you want to hide out in there.

You're making excited noises by the end of it. Like you just decorated and finished your most important project. Smile so big, that everyone is copying you. Watching you with fondness. You've told each of them at a time that their spots are perfect. They love the praise.

“You did amazing omega, It looks perfect” yunho scoots on over, pulling himself around your back, hands wrapping around your waist. He can't help it. You're just so giggly and cute at the moment. So squishy. He loves it. He kisses the junction of your shoulder and neck. You lean back into him, curling your hand around his hair. Preening at the affection.

Hongjoongs head falls on your lap, laying between your thighs. “You put a lot of work into it. Didn't you?” he praises, clapping his hand over your face gently. Pulling you down into him. A type of upside down spider kiss ensues, innocent and sweet. And maybe the other guys are staring, it's hard not too. You're beautiful. You're breathtaking.

You're relaxed. It's rare to see so. The only time you've looked relaxed in a month is when you're borderline sleepy or banged out. Which, only one of those things has become common recently. Sex really is a good stress reliever. Or maybe it's being close to them. Letting yourself feel comfortable with the affections of your group members.

You haven't left the nest since it was made, seonghwa has to lure you to the corner so you don't get any snacks or crumbs on the pile. Each guy has come and gone in it, most recently San who pulled you onto his chest so he can nap, safe to say it was the best nap in his life. Jongho is asleep across from you in the little couch cave. Yeosang took sans spot next, painting your nails with scentless polish, just talking with you.

He's got a soft orange to match his own black nails. Halloween-esk themes. You watch his face as he does so, focusing hard. The background chatter of the guys makes you buzz with comfort. Wooyoung has a hand on your thigh as he watches his phone. Scrolling mindlessly.

“Yeo” you call softly, the top of the nail polish being placed on the bottle as he looks up through his eyelashes. He twists it tight, tapping and shaking it in his hand. He hums to answer you, you smile gently. His hand has a soft hold on your own, showcasing the tips of your fingernails to him. “Can we.. Can I..” You mumble on, a bit flustered. Yeosang nods gently, encouraging you on. You look down at his lips. Squishy and plush from him biting on them while he focused. Your hand reaches up, the one he holds. He tugs it back between you before you can place it on his face.

He's leaning down before you can ask, softly applying his lips to yours. Sighing into you. He's been waiting for this. So long. His own hand curls around your arm. Keeping you grounded in front of him as he leans in. Guiding your kiss with his own slow paced one, lips moving in tandem. He's soft and gentle, letting you relax into him. He pushes you back more with his own movements, but his hand holds you close.

He pulls away, eyeing your reaction. Just a small smile afterwards, the tiniest of grins. He's shaking the polish again, gripping your right hand so he can paint that side. Your face feels hot, flush. You'll never get used to kissing, possibly, ever. Not when they're so romantic about it.

“What about me, huh?” Wooyoung speaks up, his fingers pulling at the bottom of your pants. You turn to look at him, almost forgetting he was there. He sits up on his arm expectantly, tilting his head, a smirky pout on his lips. You huff. Leaning forward. He happily closes the distance. Taking your face in his larger palm.

Wooyoung kiss is much faster than yeosangs. He's got you parting for him before you can react, swallowing your sighs in his greedy mouth. Even though you're the one leaning down to kiss him, he's got you doing what he wants. Nibbling on your bottom lip and sucking air every time he pulls back. He's messy, sloppy, licking up the saliva he pulled from you. One more sloppy kiss on your glossy lips. Before he pulls his mouth away and smirks. His finger swipes along your lip. Glancing between it and you.

What do you do with yourself now?

“Hot” Wooyoung smiles at your reaction. Bingo. He's got a massive ego. You're dazed, eyebrows shot up and licking the gloss from your lips. He pats your thigh, turning away to go back on his phone. Satisfied. Yeosang huffs under his breath, a soft laugh. Before he's pulling your hand back between his and guiding the tip of the polish down your fingernail again. It takes you a second to recoup. Hot and bothered. The contrast between the two of them shows.

Mingi decides it's his turn to step into the nest, carefully walking over the wall of clothes with his massive body. He takes his seat behind you, watching his lanky arms, his head falling over your shoulder. “Seonghwa wants to know how you're feeling,” Mingi asks, a bit flushed when he looks down at your hands. ‘How you're feeling’ really means ‘do you need dick now or later?’ And, maybe that urgent feeling is crawling back up. Just resting in the pit of your gut and bubbling. “Mm.. I'm okay for now” you shift, turning your head at him. A few seconds ago, you would have said differently. “You sure?” He looks up through his lashes as he nuzzles his nose into your shoulder. Certainly smelling your scent and how it's more prominent.

“For now” you repeat. Smiling shyly. You kiss his temple, as far as you can reach. He leans his head up to nudge your nose with his, capturing your lips easily. He's leaning down into you, taking your breath away. It's a simple kiss, a soft dance. He pulls away. He can't indulge right now. But he wants to. He kisses your neck once, standing up to take his leave and report back to seonghwa and hongjoong.

A lot has just happened, you're sure this confirms everything so far. You mean- everything you hope.

“i.. are we dating now?” wooyoung's phone audibly stops. Yeosangs finger stops the brush. You gulp, don't even look up from the brush on the edge of your fingertip. It's not a second later that wooyoung laughs. “we're practically married,” he huffs, shuffling to lay his head on your thigh. A contrasting smile to your shocked face. “you can't get rid of us now” yeosang’s grin can be heard through his words, continuing to work the brush, gathering the glooped polish.

And maybe wooyoung does want to marry, there's nothing wrong with it. He didn't see himself getting married anytime soon. Mating either. He'd do both of those things with you in a heartbeat. He followed rumors of you as a trainee. Even leaving hybe to join the same entertainment as you. He was determined to meet you. Because of it, he got yeosang to become a secret fan of you as well. Maybe, wooyoung is a bit of a creep, but he really, really liked you, even before debut.

Yeosang knows this, how his best friend was almost completely infatuated with you. A giant crush that made yeosang join him. They're probably your first fanboys. No, they're definitely your first fanboys.

Mingis walk to the kitchen is a giddy one. He feels the taste of you on the tip of his tongue. Buzzing him with electricity. He's a starved man, dying for your affection. Any type of crumb gets him excited. Like he's about to perform. He takes a deep breath before he enters the kitchen. Glancing at Hongjoong sit at the counter, laptop propped up on his lap. San is helping Seonghwa cook. Yunho as well. All of them are doing their own thing.

It's the domesticity that gets to him. He really doesn't see his life any other way. This is his pack. Forever. Joongs eyes catch mingis, popping half a strawberry in his mouth. “What's with that look?” Joong asks. But he knows. Mingi knows he knows. Cause that subtle look on his smirking features is a dead giveaway. “Nothing,” Mingi mumbles, scratching the back of his head, turning an eye so as to avoid his question.

“How is she?” Seonghwa asks from over his shoulder. “she said she's okay for now” he enhances the end. There's a huff of laughter coming from joongs end. “For now” he repeats, turning in his chair. Everyone in the kitchen glances at him, different swirls of emotions on each of their faces. “What does that mean?” San asks. Cluelessly.

Yunho laughs. Airy and deep. Preparing the side dishes for dinner.

“Means she's gonna need taken care of soon”

Semi-proofread c': thank you all!

taglist: @lelaleleb @bratty-tingz @0325tiny @smilefordongil @atinytinaa @yunholuvrsblog @ja3hwa @stopeatread @sousydive @voicesinmyhead-rc @giiouis @c4tboyxiao @eastleighsblog @doggopepper @uhhheather @hyukssunflower @hhoneylix @tunaasan @satsuri3su @acescavern @edusweah @silentcry329 @silentreadersthings @ldysmfrst @idfkeddieishot @zdgx1 @lomons @rln-byg @mommahwa1117 @ddaeing @chngbnwf @mentoslol @pyeonghongrie-main @simeonswhore (thank u all! If the tag isn't working or i forgot to add u, please let me know ♥︎)

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rwrbmovie · 10 months

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BTS of #RWRBMovie: Storming Kensington

From HELLO:

For Matthew, this scene was an important one, but one that he felt needed a different energy than what is on the page. "It is very similar and it's also simultaneously very different to the book which I think is just one way of describing this entire movie," he says. "Casey said to me after watching it for the second or third time, 'It's like there's my book, and then there's your movie and the two are very, very similar and also very different,' which is good because if the movie was so faithful to the book, it, I don't even think it would please the fans of the book. "I know that's probably a controversial thing to say but it wouldn't have served the story very well." He continues: "I needed to observe the logic of a film and trust that I had internalized the emotional truths of the book and the Storming of Kensington in the book is a lot more chaotic and Alex is highly charged. "When we were in rehearsals, and Taylor and Nick and I began to really delve into that scene, we realized quickly that if Alex came on that strong then Henry, given where he is mentally, would simply say, 'well, get out,' and kick Alex out. So we knew implicitly that we needed to do a different version of that scene, one in which Alex isn't at all certain of success. "In the book, Alex is willing to burn down the castle in order to get what he wants, and although the scene actually uses a lot of dialogue from the book, our Alex in the film knows that if this doesn't work, their relationship is over. So he's a little more careful with Henry, more fearful, and Henry is more heartbroken, and those decisions really determined everything else that followed in the scene."

From Glamour:

Galitzine, meanwhile, says his most rewarding time on set came during the film's emotional climax, when Alex and Henry must decide if—and how—they're going to move forward in their relationship. “It's the emotional height of the movie in a lot of ways, and sometimes as an actor, you can very much get in your head about that,” he says. “But Taylor really was just so emotionally present that it helped me. We got to a vulnerable, beautiful space. Those kinds of moments are where you drift into a level of truth and sincerity that feels very real. That's what we're always aiming for.”

From I’ve Never Said this Before With Tommy DiDario:

ML: We had to break for lunch, and we haven't finished the scene and I was really, really worried that we were gonna come back from lunch and I would've lost them and never re-captured what was happening on set before lunch. And it was the pivotal part of the scene, the end where Alex makes an ultimatum to Henry. We got back on set and we started filming again and instantly in the first take, after lunch, Taylor started crying and Nick was facing away from him and he heard Taylor, and Nick started crying. The back half of that scene is so beautiful because they're doing such great work and I really had a difficult time cutting it because there was such beautiful, nuanced work from both of them. What's so remarkable about it is they had just had lunch, and they came right back into it and they were more dialled in, more in touch with each other than before. It was pretty remarkable. I have to say that was the moment I knew that whatever happened with this movie, those two actors would be fine in their careers.

#rwrb movie #rwrbedit #rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrbsource #nicholas galitzine #taylor zakhar perez #alex claremont diaz #henry #prince henry #ng #tzp #storming kensington #bts #rwrbbts #*#my stuff #the boys

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cutielando · 7 months

Text

always and forever ~ charles leclerc

Summary: You and Charles have always been there for each other, and you will continue to do so always and forever.

Words: 1.7k+

Other works: my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

It had always been the two of you.

You had known each other since you were kids, starting as best friends and then evolving into a beautiful couple that stuck with each other through everything.

You were always there to cheer him up and make him feel better after bad races, he was always there when the hate from the fans was too much for you. You were a rock to each other.

Charles has had a bad year. Ferrari was doing worse than ever, he couldn't win races because of the car, people were putting pressure on him to perform and he just felt like he couldn't do it anymore without breaking down.

He's had his fair load of bad strategies, long pit stops, feeling like the team didn't support him and prioritized Carlos instead of him, overall just doing him dirty all year long.

It was now time for the last race of the season, Abu Dhabi.

Like always, you were right next to your boyfriend, having taken time off work to make sure you could be there with him for the entire weekend.

You were currently in your hotel room, getting ready to go with Charles to the paddock ahead of qualifying that afternoon.

"I don't want to go" Charles said while he watched you do your hair, his heart swelling when he saw you wearing a Ferrari shirt with his name and number on the back.

"Why not? You love Abu Dhabi" you frowned in confusion, just now seeing how truly miserable he looked.

"I know how things will play out, so I don't even see the point of racing when I just now I'll disappoint everyone yet again" he shrugged, looking at his feet and playing with his fingers.

You put down the hair straightener that you were holding and stepped closer to him, taking his face in your hands and making him have no choice but to look at you.

"Mon amour, I know you've had a tough year, and nobody is blaming you for your results. Everyone sees that Ferrari is letting you down and they know you are doing the best you can with what you have. Stop worrying about what people are going to say and just go out there and do what you love the most. Race, have fun. Screw the results, I'm going to be proud of you no matter what place you end up on. But just go and have fun one last time this year and we'll come back stronger next year" by the time you finished speaking, Charles was biting his lip and a tear was threatening to spill from his eye.

"I love you so much, you know that?" he whispered and chuckled, his voice cracking at the end.

"I love you too, and I'm so proud of you, baby" you whispered before leaning in and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

Charles wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, pulling your body flush against his, wanting to be as close to you as humanly possible.

You were holding him just as tightly, your arms securely wrapped around his neck while one hand played with the small hairs at the back of his neck.

"Ready?" you asked once you pulled away, outstretching your hand towards him with an encouraging smile.

He nodded and took your hand, placing a kiss on the back of it.

"Let's go"

♡♡♡♡♡

The Ferrari garage was buzzing.

Engineers were running around, Charles and Carlos were deep into a conversation, Frederic was trying to keep everyone under control and you were just hanging around with Arthur, Charles' brother, shaking your head at the chaos that was the red Italian team.

"It's amazing hos disorganized they've been the entire year" Arthur quietly said into your ear, making sure nobody from the team could hear him.

"I know, it took a huge toll on Charles. He didn't even want to come today, it took me half an hour to persuade him to just go race and have some fun" you said, your eyes finding Charles every now and then.

He seemed a little calmer than he was back at your hotel while talking to Carlos, knowing that he enjoyed the Spaniard's company and honestly valued their friendship outside the track.

"I wonder if he'll stay at Ferrari next year" Arthur wondered, now also looking at his brother.

"You know he's still under contract, he wouldn't just leave them like that after 5 years" you explained, but on the inside you wished he would do just that.

Charles was one of the best drivers on the grid, everyone knew that. A lot of teams would love to have him in their line-up, including Red Bull and McLaren. You've spoken to Charles about potential offers and what he thought his future looked like, but you knew he would say loyal to Ferrari until the end of his contract.

"I know, but maybe he'll change his mind once the next season is done if Ferrari don't get a grip and improve, you know" Arthur explained, and you nodded.

"I hope so. We've talked about it, but he said he didn't want to think about that just yet" you said, dropping the subject once you saw your boyfriend making his way over to the two of you.

"What are you two plotting?" he teased, hugging Arthur before wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing your cheek.

"Nothing you should know" Arthur said, winking at the both of you before leaving to give you a moment before the start of the race.

You turned to Charles, studying his face.

"How are you feeling?" you asked quietly, taking a hold of his hands.

"I'm fine. I'm just going to go out there and drive the best I can, like I always do. Have some fun, just like you said. Have to listen to the wifey, right?" he smiled teasingly, the nickname making you blush heavily.

Charles had recently started calling you his "wifey" after having been together for 3 years. You often talked about the future and knew that you both wanted to spend the rest of your lives together and would take the next step when you both felt ready.

But what you didn't know was that the day might come sooner than you thought.

♡♡♡♡♡

Contrary to what everyone was expecting, Charles had managed to win the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. He drove so well, like his life depended on it and you couldn't have been more proud of him.

When it was time for the podium celebrations, you couldn't take your eyes off him as he received his much-wanted trophy, holding it up in the air and blowing you a kiss once he found you in the huge crowd.

Before the champagne shower could start, however, Charles asked for a microphone, putting his trophy down and looking nervously at Max and Lando, the teammates he shared the podium with.

"Wow. I can't believe we did it. We had a tough year at Ferrari this season, not being quite where we wanted, but we ended the season on a high note and I want to thank every single member of the team that made this all possible" he said, putting the mic down to give a round of applause for everyone.

You followed suit, your eyes never leaving him.

"Secondly, I want to thank a special person, but I need her up here with me. Y/N, will you come up here, please?" he asked, the lights suddenly finding you in the crowd.

Your eyes widened, a heavy blush coating your cheeks. Charles' PR manager found you in the crowd and helped lead you upstairs towards the podium, giving you a silent encouragement before she let you step out.

The crowd was cheering when they say you standing next to your boyfriend, prompting you to give them a small wave before turning to Charles.

"Y/N, there aren't enough that can express how much I love you and how deeply grateful I am to have you in my life. You've been with me throughout this entire journey, 4 years now already you've put up with me. You know me better than I know myself, you always know what to say and how to make me feel better after a bad race, you're always there for me, cheering me on and supporting me through everything and I can't thank you enough for it all" he spoke, putting his hand in his pocket and taking out a small, velvet box.

Your eyes instantly widened and filled with tears, knowing what was about to happen. Your hands went up to your mouth, not believing it was finally happening.

"I never want to know what my life would look like without you in it because I plan on spending every second left of it cherishing you and being by your side. So, Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest man on Earth and marry me?" opening the box, you saw the most beautiful diamond ring you had ever laid your eyes on, making your tears freely swim down your cheeks.

You didn't trust your voice, so you nodded your head feverishly, falling to your knees in front of him and collapsing into his arms, holding on for dear life.

You cried into his shoulder, holding onto each other tightly. The crowd erupted into loud cheers, Max and Lando opening the champagnes and spraying everyone around them, congratulating the two of you.

You pulled away from the hug and kissed Charles, pouring every single emotion you felt in that moment into the kiss.

"Do you want the ring?" his tone was teasing once you pulled away and he still held the ring in his hand.

You laughed, nodding and extending your hand towards him.

He took out the ring and gently pushed it onto your ring finger, it fitting like it was made just for you.

"I love you so much, amour. I cannot wait to spend the rest of my days with you" you whispered, bringing him in for another hug.

"I promised you always and forever, I intend to keep that promise"

And as you stood kneeling in the middle of the podium, celebrations taking place all around you, the only thing you focused on was each other, nothing able to burst your little bubble of bliss.

Your always and forever love.

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miyuhpapayuh · 9 months

Text

𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖙

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩ ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩ ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩ ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩ ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩ ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

"Come on," snatching her arm up, he pulls her down the long hallway, into their bedroom. Her tense body hits the soft bed with a thud.

"Erik—"

"Did I ask you to fuckin' speak?" He snaps at her and she closes her mouth, rolling her eyes at him.

"Get up." She scoots towards the edge of the bed and stands up, smoothing her hands over her exposed thighs.

Stalking the short distance towards, his index finger and thumb capture her jaw, roughly.

"What the fuck did I tell you, 'fore we left this house?" She sucks her teeth. His grip tightens.

"Use your words, brat."

"Don't start a fight with them bitches."

"Mhm. And, what did your bratty ass go and do? Huh?" She rolls her eyes, again.

"I did what I had to do, Erik. I'm just supposed to watch bitches fawn over you, in my fucking face?!" Moving his grip down to her neck, he silences her.

"Ain't nobody worried about them. You're my business, I told you that, already. Stop fucking causing scenes over unnecessary shit."

She tries to pry his hand away from her. "It's not unnecessary—"

"The hell it ain't! This is the second time, I've had to pull you off a bit—"

"Maybe, they should keep their comments to themselves and there wouldn't be a prob—"

"Shut the fuck up!" Her eyes widened for a second, trying to figure out if he really just yelled at her.

"Who the fuck are you talking to, Erik? Cause, I know it ain't me." He gives her a grim smirk and lets her neck go.

"Oh, I'm definitely talking to you. You talk too fuckin' much." He pulls his shirt off and points to the bed.

"Sit." Her attitude still in full effect, she calls him a bitch underneath her breath and sits down.

"Fuck you say?" She gives him the same smirk he gave her, saying absolutely nothing.

"Aight." Yanking her up, he sits on the bed and places her over his knee. Of course, she tries to get up but his grip won't let her.

"Stay fuckin' still." Sliding his big in between them, he unbuttons her shorts and tugs them away from her more than plump ass.

"I don't know how many times... I have to tell you, fuck them bitches." His hand rubs circles over her left cheek.

"Why won't you just listen to me—"

"You don't even listen to me— ow!" His hand collides with her backside, catching them both off guard.

"Dammit, girl!" Continuously smacking her reddening cheeks, the inside of her thighs heat up. A damp spot forms.

Pushing her top half towards the ground more, he props her ass up in the air, giving him a great view of between her legs.

"I knew ya nasty ass was wet," his finger glides over her barely covered folds, "fat ass pussy eatin' the fuck out these panties."

She bites her lip to keep her moans in. Pulling her panties off, he throws them in the same direction as her shorts.

"Erik,” she groans,

"How many times do we gotta do this? Hm?" Palming her wet mound, her breath gets caught in her throat.

"Huh?" Smacking her clit with his fingertips, she jerks. That dirty smirk comes back.

"You ain't gon talk to me, now?" She steadies herself so she won't fall, while he continues to assault her sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Errrik— uh!" His index and middle finger slide into her cove, hitting her sweet spot head on.

"Mhmm.. freaky ass. You like when Daddy tease that pussy?" She grabs his leg, as his fingers slowly dip in and out of her.

"Oh fuuuckk! I h-hate it when you tease me!" Speeding up, her grip tightens and the knot in her stomach intensifies.

Her moans ricochet off the walls, delighting Erik. Her thighs tremble. Her walls swallow his fingers with every thrust, sending her very close to her peak.

"You wanna cum, babygirl?"

"Yessss! Please, baby.... please!" She gushes over his fingers, before he can give her the go ahead.

"Mm." Sticking his fingers in his mouth, he groans at her taste, "I'll let it slide, this time." He smacks her ass.

"On your knees, beautiful." After tossing her, more gently, on the bed, she gets into position. Her arch is super deep.

"Oh word? Someone must be sorry." Two heavy smacks collide with her plump cheeks.

"Mm, fuck me." Pulling off his sweats, his dick stands at attention. She licks her lips at the sight.

"Say it, again."

"Fuck me, Daddy." A hand slides between her legs, playing with her clit. She purrs.

He makes his dick jump. Stalking towards her, He smacks her hand away and slowly sinks into her.

"Ssss, fuck!" He pulls almost all the way out, leaving the tip in.

"What's my name?"

"Daddy," she whispers, reaching out to grab the back of his thigh.

"Louder, brat!" Smacking her hand away again, he pushes the middle of her back down further.

"Daddyyy— oh shhhiit!" Sinking back into her, his pace starts off reckless. Gripping her ponytail, he pulls her head back.

"You love this big dick, don't you?" She moans out, uncontrollably. Her nails dig into the bed.

"Yes! Fuckkk yes, baby!" He drives into her like a madman, causing her ass to slap against his thighs, roughly.

"Say it."

"Unh! I... I love that big dick! I love it!" Her hands fly to his waist, trying to keep a distance between them.

"Better move that fuckin' hand." He pushes it away, continuing to drive into her. Her moans turn into screams.

"Daddy fuckin' you good? Shit." Her walls clench around him.

"Yes!"

"Daddy gotta fuck you like this, for you to hear me?"

"Ah shit! Right there! Right—"

Slowing down his strokes, his hand finds the front of her throat, pulling her back into his scarred chest. Her breathing turns ragged. Her shaky hand falls on top of his, squeezing it.

"Erikkk!" Rocking in and out of her, his eyes flutter shut at how tight and wet she is.

"Fuckkk... pussy so good." She lets out a giggle, listening to him praise her.

"Don't be laughin'. Yo bratty ass still in trouble." His strokes become deeper and sharper, catching her off guard.

"I'm sorry— I'll listennnn, shit!"

"What I say bout them bitches?" She hunches forward, fisting the sheets.

"Oh my God...."

"That ain't what I said." Gripping her ponytail again, he yanks her closer, "what I say?"

"Ooou–fuck themmm!"

"Got damn... say my name."

"Daddy! Fuck! Fuck!"

"They out here gettin' this dick? Huh?"

"No! Ouch!" Another smack to her cheek turns it bright red.

"Who's Daddy babygirl?"

"Me! I'm so close!"

"Mhm, I feel that gushy shit." He lets out a grunt.

"Who got that pussy wet?" He tightens his grip on her, speeding back up.

"You! I'm gonna cum!" Her body goes rigid underneath his, crashing towards her peak.

"Cum for Daddy, babygirl."

Her mouth falls open, letting every profanity loose. Her nails dig into his skin.

"Ughhh," cumming right behind her, his body slouches on hers, causing them to fall forward.

"I love yo bratty ass." He presses rough kisses to the side of her face.

@thegifstories @blackerthings @blackpinup22 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @ghostfacekill-monger @sheabuttahwrites @soufcakmistress @abeautifulmindexposed @awerkofart @nayaxwrites @cecereads209 @harmshake @henneseyhoe @headcannonxgalore @mauvecherie-writes @twistedcharismaaa @consent-is-king

#erik killmonger #killmonger smut #miyuhpapayuh #poc writers #blackwriters #smut #michael b jordan

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the-marshals-wife · 27 days

Text

Refuge (Sierra Six x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

A/N: It's official: I'm obsessed with The Gray Man. I've watch it 3 times so far in under 2 months, and I really wanted to write something sweet for my current favorite Goose character.

Description: Sierra Six/Courtland Gentry x Fem!Reader, established (secret) relationship; flirty, steamy fluff + angst if you squint | Warnings: suggestive themes, kissing, alcohol | Setting: post-movie | Word count: 1,746

Gif credit: user magnusedom

Imagine Six returning to you, his best kept secret, and asking you to come away with him

There was only one thing in the world that could make you open the front door of your apartment after midnight. The instant you recognize the familiar, distinct sequence of knocking, you shoot upright from your slumber and scramble off of the sofa, the book on your chest flying across the floor from where you had dozed off. Having almost tripped on the rug, you release the dead bolt and frantically fumble with the chain lock. Heart pounding, you slide it loose and jerk open the door.

Waiting on the other side like an apparition was a smiling face you weren't sure you'd ever lay eyes on again.

"Sorry for the late hour, ma'am. Could I trouble you for a cup of sugar?"

"Court!"

You couldn't help it. His name, the name only you could use, escapes your lips like a cry.

"May I come in?" he gestures.

You grab his arm and usher him inside.

"Where have you been?" you asked in a hushed voice, looking over him.

"Here, there, everywhere," he answers, leaning back against the closed door. "Spent a little time in nowhere too."

"I've been so worried about you! I haven't heard from you in months. I know that's the job, but it's been so long without a sign or anything. I was afraid something happened to you. I didn't know what to think," you say all at once.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'll explain everything, I promise. Just, let me look at you first," he says, gazing on you softly, "Wow. How is that possible?"

"What?"

"How are you more beautiful than the last time I saw you?"

You feel your cheeks turn red, but it doesn't keep you from pointing a finger to his chest.

"If you think being a smoothie is going to get you out an explanation," think again, buster."

He wraps his arms around your waist.

"Fair enough," he nods, "It's still true though. You're even prettier when you're angry."

"I must be stunning then," you smirk.

He brings his hand up to lift your chin, leaning in close, "Incredibly."

The waning space between you vanishes as he captures your lips. You lean into his touch, savoring every sensation you'd missed so much. From the warm, smokiness of his scent to the gentle scratch of his beard on your skin. When he finally pulls away, you're nearly breathless.

"Why don't you make yourself at home, stranger?" you propose, composing yourself, "You want a drink?"

"I wouldn't say no to a beer," he replies.

"Coming right up," you say, turning towards the kitchen, "They feed you in 'nowhere'? I got half of a leftover sub here, and some really leftover pizza I can nuke in microwave."

"Tempting, but I'm good for now, thanks. Just the beer," you hear him say as you grab two bottles from the fridge.

"Good call, honestly. We can just order take out or something."

He doesn't respond, and it immediately catches your attention. You grab the bottle opener from the drawer and make quick work of the caps. With a faraway look in his eye, he stands on the other side of the modest island that separates the kitchen area from the living area. You extend the bottle towards him, and even when he takes it from your grasp, he's barely shaken from his silent reverie.

Too worried to imbibe, you set your own drink down on the counter. "Court, what's wrong? I can tell something is bothering you."

He takes a drink, which is followed by a long pause.

"Do you remember Fitzroy's niece, Claire?"

You nod. "Of course. Is she alright?"

"She is now," he sighs, setting his jaw, "Fitzroy is gone."

"What?" you say, rounding the island to be at his side.

"It's a long story, but some bad people got ahold of Claire to get to him, because of something that I did. We took care of it in the end, but...he didn't make it."

He takes another hefty drink and puts down the bottle.

"Court, I'm so sorry," you say, touching his arm, "I know how much he meant to you."

He turns to face you. "He did. Now Claire has no one, except me. And that's what I came here to talk to you about."

Your pulse quickens at the seriousness in his voice.

"Her and I have been on the run the past couple weeks. Staying ahead of Carmichael and his goon squad."

"Wait, you escaped the agency?" you ask, shocked.

"Didn't have a choice after they tried to use her as leverage to get me to keep doing their dirty work. I got her out, which means I'm out too, for good," he confirms solemnly, "I've found a place for us where we might actually have a shot at a normal-ish life."

You stare at him wide-eyed.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying...I'm all she has left. She needs me. And I need you," he says, gently rubbing your upper arms, "Before, I couldn't give you the life you deserved. But this could be my second chance. I think I might have finally gotten to the top of the hill, and I want you there with me."

"Oh Court, I don't know..." you hesitate, mind reeling, "I don't know anything about raising a kid."

He grins. "Neither do I. We can figure it out together. I mean there's gotta be a manual or something, right?"

You can't help but snort at the idea. Just as more protests are forming on your tongue, he gives you a look so disarming that you forget the words entirely.

"Come away with me, Y/N."

He takes your hand in his.

"It won't be easy, and it definitely won't be perfect. I know I've got no right to ask you to leave everything behind. But I've loved you from the very beginning, and I will protect you with everything I have."

His vow brings tears to your eyes. He laid his heart bare, and in doing so, he'd banished the last of your meager doubts.

"Well, when you put it that way," you say.

You grab the collar of his jacket in your fists and pull him into a kiss. He hums in pleasant surprise and laces his fingers through your hair. After another heated moment of rediscovery, you at last loosen your grip and surface from the embrace.

"Is that a yes?" he chuckles.

"It is," you answer, your smile becoming nervous as your thoughts turn to the future, "Do you think Claire will like me?"

"Oh, don't worry, she's going to love you," he smirks, letting you go and walking over to the window. "Honestly, I'm not sure I'm going to survive you two. This was probably a bad idea."

"Now I really I can't wait to meet her," you tease.

Your amusement fades, however, as you watch him part the curtain and cautiously peer up at the surrounding rooftops.

Dread stirs in the pit of your stomach.

"How much time do we have?" you ask.

"We should probably get you packed up," he says over his shoulder.

"Really? I thought we'd at least have tonight. Are you being followed right now?"

"Not yet. No one knows about this place. But the longer I'm here, the greater the possibility that changes," he frowns, "I need to get back to Claire. I took a risk coming here. She can't be alone for long."

You mind begins to race as your gaze darts around your apartment and belongings. The framed pictures scattered across the walls of old friends and family you hardly see suddenly meant more than anything tucked away in the safe beneath your bed. But could you even take them? Would having any ties to your old life be too dangerous?

Old life. The thought makes your head spin.

"This is happening so fast," you say as you rub your temples, "I never thought I'd just leave everything. I don't even know what to take with me."

"Hey," he says, stepping back over to you, "It's alright. Listen, I know I got caught up in pouring out my dumb old heart a minute ago, but you don't have to do this, Y/N. If you want to stay, I understand."

"No, I'm coming with you," you deny, "I want to be with you, no matter where we have to go. I've never wanted anything more. You have made it to the top, Court, and I wouldn't miss the view for anything."

All this time, you had been the only refuge in the world for "Sierra Six". Now, more than ever, he was becoming yours.

He kisses your forehead softly and smiles down on you.

"How about we just start small, and go from there. Baby steps. Like, maybe a suitcase?" he suggests.

"Sounds good," you agree, "Guess I don't need to pack the kitchen sink for wherever we're going?"

He snickers, "No, we have one of those. Got one in the bathroom too. We even have a toilet."

"I wasn't expecting such luxury," you smirk.

"I mean you have to hold the handle down a little to get it to flush, but other than that," he quips.

"Well, I suppose I'll survive," you say in mock exasperation.

"We do have a TV, so that kinda makes up for it. Plus, I got queen bed all to myself. I might could be persuaded into sharing, though."

You cross your arms, eyeing his suggestive look.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, but you'll have to sleep on top of the covers. I don't wanna get your girl germs on my sheets."

"Courtland Gentry," you grunt, smacking his arm.

You take off down the hall to your room, and he follows after you laughing.

"What? What'd I say?" he asks, knowing full well.

"Why don't I just sleep on the floor?" you pose.

You bolt over to your dresser and start rummaging through your clothes, keeping your back to him.

"Okay, you're right. That was unfair of me," he concedes.

Biting your lip, you spin around with your eyebrows raised.

He stands in the doorway, pulling a stick of gum from his pocket and unwrapping it, "You can get under the comforter."

You throw a shirt at him, shaking your head.

"Shut up and help me pack."

He pops the gum in his mouth and smiles.

"Yes ma'am."

#sierra six x reader #courtland gentry x reader #court gentry x reader #the gray man #six x reader #sierra six x y/n #courtland gentry x y/n #court gentry x y/n #sierra six x you #courtland gentry x you #sierra six imagine #courtland gentry imagine #the gray man imagine #the gray man fanfiction #ryan gosling #sierra six #courtland gentry #court gentry #my writing

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sinfulpanda16 · 7 months

Text

Breaking The Ice

Shoto Todoroki x fem reader

A/n: Characters are aged up

You and Todoroki never argued. There's was never anything to argue about. He loved you and you him. You trusted him and him you. Throughout all those years you two have been together, from being boyfriend and girlfriend in UA to being husband and wife, fights have never been an issue.

Enji Todoroki has always been an issue though. He never approved of you in fact you're sure he hates you. Todoroki says he does not care what he thinks but there are times where it doesn't seem that way. Your huge fight was about that, the disrespect you get.

You both said shit you didn't mean. It sounds so cliché but its true. Anger is a powerful emotion that makes you do and say stupid shit. He called you a pain in the ass for thinking he sides with his father, and you called him weak for not being able to put him in his place. So, with that for the past two days there's been a thick atmosphere when you guys are together.

You guys are married and you work along side him at his agency. You're together 24/7. The tension was always there and neither of you did anything to break it.

Even the number 1 hero, Deku, felt so uneasy when he walked into Shoto's office happily only to be met with an atmosphere thicker than quicksand. Apparently, there's been a villain on the lose for the past few days and there's difficulty tracking him and taking him down. They need both you and your husband to help with the situation. You both agree and thank Midoriya and then go back to doing paperwork.

That night and for the last two its just been eating in silence for dinner, doing your nightly routines alone, and wishing each other a cold "good night" before falling asleep. How long will this last?

The next day, you both go off to work to finish your paperwork and then go out to patrol the city in hopes to capture this villain. There hasn't been any sightings of him for a while and the city has been growing restless for this. You yourself didn't like that this villain still hasn't been caught and is running lose like a dog. You're sure Todoroki also hates the situation as much as you do. You both don't say much to each other, but you've learned to read his face and body language.

Before long the sun begins to fall and the stars start to shine. You and Todoroki are headed back to his agency. You're walking behind him its officially been three days since you both had that nasty fight. You look up at him, his half red half white hair blowing in the wind and his broad shoulders moving back and forth with every step he takes. You miss him, you wish you could just go back in time and prevent this avoidance from ever happening.

You sigh and muster up the courage to tell him how sorry you are but before you could do anything he stops walking causing to you to stop in your tracks. You're confused why did he stop out of nowhere?

"Shoto? Are you ok?" you ask quite worried.

Shoto turns around to look at you. Your (e/c) eyes looking back at his. It's been a while since Shoto has seen them under the moonlight. He turns his full body towards you. "Y/N" he says apologetically.

Out of nowhere there's an explosion behind you. causing the city to cry and scream in fear. You both turn to look at the cause of the explosion. There he is the villain who's been disrupting the lives of the innocent. He's covered in straps full of bombs for weapons and takes a little one off his belt. He laughs manically and throws it a child who's crying in fear. You however, thanks to your speed, were able to get the child out of harms way and get him to his mother. Where they run safe.

That was a child! Oh, now he's in for it! You've always had hatred for those who harm children. You speed off toward the villain and begin to attack him with your strength. Todoroki caught on and also began sending ice attacks to the villain. You and your husband have always made a great team, you distract the enemy (sometimes land a few good hits) while he burns them up or freezes them or does both even.

You guys had things under control but the suddenly he disappears. An invisibility quirk! That's why he's been so damn hard to track! Now you break in a sweat. Invisible people have always been difficult to fight against they can easily attack out of nowhere. You stay alert and sure enough the villain sends a punch your way from behind, but you were fast enough to block it with a force field. However, the pressure from his punch sends you flying back and causes you to hit one of Todoroki's ice walls. You land on your back hard resulting in a crater being made in the ice and you falling unconscious. Your vision becomes blurry, and you fall down to the ground.

The villain groans "Stupid bitch." to your unconscious body and walks away.

Todoroki saw the whole thing happen with wide eyes. You laying down hurt brought flashbacks of his mother laying on the ground after his father hurt her. His damn father. He looked at the villain who's back was facing him. The villain had the same built as his father. Then he looks back at you. He hurt you and now he is furious!

"Hey!" Todoroki says clearly adding anger to his tone. The villain turns to look back at him with blue eyes. The blue eyes that are the exact same as his father. A flashback of Enji Todoroki disrespecting you came back to Todoroki. That bastard!

"NO ONE!" he yells and sets fire on the villain's right arms causing the bombs to blow up, making the villain scream in agony.

Todoroki's teeth are gritted hard. "DISREPECTS!" he yells setting the villains other arm on fire causing the bombs on that arm to go off.

The villain is about to run away but Todoroki wastes no fucking time. With one final breath he yells at the top of his lungs "MY WIFE!!" and with that he sets the villains whole body on fire causing to bombs to explode on him.

There is smoke everywhere, the villain is still standing in it but not for long when Todoroki appears with his Ice and freezes the damn villain. The fucking villain that has hurt so many innocent people including his wife.

Then it's over.

You open your eyes and see that Todoroki has handled the situation. You sit up with a hurt head. The scenario in front of you shows just how strong Todoroki is. The whole scene was due to Todoroki defending you and speak of the devil there he is making his way towards you.

"My love! Are you alright?" he asks crouching down to holding you.

You lay you head on his chest "Yes, I'm ok don't worry" you smile. Todoroki smiles back at you before picking you up bridal style to help you get to the paramedics while giving you a kiss to your forehead.

Afterwards, you were able to go home from the hospital and Todoroki has taken good care of you the entire time. He's been treating you like you were royalty or something. Like, it's not that unusual but recently he's been acting like he would die if he didn't treat you like so.

He comes into your shared bedroom with a comb in his hands. He's smiling and sits next to you "I got it, now, turn around my love." You do as your told and he begins brushing your hair gently.

He continues to brush your hair for a while, both of you sitting in comfortable silence before you finally begin to speak. "Shoto, I'm really sorry about how I treated you the other day." you say causing your husband to stop.

You continue "You're not weak. That's not what you are at all and that is proven by how you handled that villain attack." You think about how you passed out during the fight, how maybe Enji Todoroki is probably right, and tears begin to fall. You speak with a shaky voice "Maybe your father-"

"No"

No? He repositions you to face him and holds both your hands. He looks in your eyes "Listen to me, I don't care what my old man says or thinks. I love you so much and if he never approves then he can suffer for all I care." He wipes away your tears before continuing to speak "My love, I'm so sorry for calling you a pain in the ass you are far from being that you're my beautiful princess, and I'm also sorry not sticking up for you the way I should've." The scene of you landing on his ice comes back to him. "Believe me when I say I will never let anyone disrespect you ever again. Ok?" You're shedding more tears but Todoroki smiles and wipes those away too. "You deserve the best my love." he say holding your face.

"Thank you." is all you say before you lean into him for a kiss to which he happily returns.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto x y/n #todoroki x you #mha x reader #mha todoroki #bnha x reader #bnha #bnha todoroki x you #shoto x you #todoroki shouto #my hero academia #buko no hero academia #fanfic

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hughesurdaddy43 · 5 months

Text

fear and fridays

Summary: simple complication, miscommunications lead to fallout

pairing: quinn hughes x fem reader

notes: everyone thank taylor swift and zach bryan for this one

You pace back and forth in your living room. Quinn said he wanted to stop by after his game so naturally, you turned your television on and watched from the beginning to the end. The Canucks won, which didn't come as a surprise to you. Captain Quinn Hughes always led his team to victory.

Even though he has a key to your apartment, Quinn knocks, waiting for you to let him in. You come to a halt, feet glued to the floor and fingers trembling. You know why you're so nervous. You haven't seen Quinn since you admitted your feelings to him. His words were on repeat in your head, like a broken record. "If I ever get married to a girl that's not you, I'd pray to God that you'd stand up and object."

Another knock on the door brings you back to reality and you begin to make your way to the slab of wood thats keeping the two of you apart.

There's a smirk on his face when you swing the door open, and he lifts up a brown paper bag with grease staining the bottom, you're worried that whatever is inside will tear apart in a matter of seconds. "I bought some burgers, thought we might treat ourselves to a night in." Your heart does a flip and you shoot him a smile while moving to the side to let him enter. It isn't unusual for Quinn to stop by with dinner after a home game, especially after they win, but you aren't sure how to feel about how normal he's being.

You follow Quinn to your kitchen, taking a seat on the barstool at the counter. He starts with grabbing plates, heading toward the dishwasher instead of a cupboard because he knows that you hate putting dishes away. Then he heads toward your fridge and pulls out two beers, and they aren't your favourite but you make sure to keep them in stock because they're his favourite.

The two of you sit in silence, enjoying your burgers and beer. Wind crashes against your living room window, and everything is taking you back to that night, which feels like forever ago. You haven't talked about it, trying your best to push it to the back of your mind, but still those words are on repeat.

Quinn laughs, causing you to look up from your burger and at him instead. "Jack and Luke said you're lame for not answering their texts." You shake your head, pulling Quinns phone out of his hand. You open up the camera and sport a pouty face before clicking the button to capture the photo and send it to the Hughes brothers group chat. "Thats only because half of the time I never know what the hell they're talking about. And, they keep harassing me, asking if I'll go to the lake house this summer."

You start to hand Quinn his phone but freeze once his phone starts to ring. Its her.

His eyes are already on yours when you look up at him, the both of you unsure of what to do. It's not like you guys are sneaking around, but everything is different now, and you're wondering if she even knows that her boyfriends best friend is in love with him.

In a swift movement, Quinn grabs the phone from your hand and slides it into the pocket of his shorts. "I'll give her a call later." He mumbles. "Anyway, back to the rug rats, you should come to the lake house this summer." He changes the topic and it makes your heart drop. You begin to wonder if you're becoming his secret.

"I don't know, Quinn. I'm not sure I'd want to third wheel, and as much as I love your brothers, I don't think I can survive spending all my time with them." You both know that's a lie. Jack was your friend first, but the moment you two started to drift due to busy schedules, Quinn swooped in. "Why would you third wheel?" He asks as he begins to clear the countertop from your plates and now empty beer bottles.

You frown at him even though his back is facing you. "Well, I assumed you'd be bringing..." You pauses, afraid to say her name out loud. "I assume you'd bring your girlfriend along." Quinn scoffs, "Please, Trevor would be all over her. I wouldn't do that to her." It's a lousy excuse, you know that, but you still want to push it. "So you'll let me tag along and fall victim to Trevor Zegras?"

The two of you laugh at the same time. You like Trevor, but he's like an energetic puppy that doesn't understand basic commands like "Shush" and "No"

"No, no definitely not." Quinn turns around, leaning on the counter behind him and crossing his arms over his chest. He's wearing a tight black underarmour t-shirt and you can't help but let your eyes roam his arms. You usually aren't attracted to guys with muscle, but Quinn pulls it off so well. "Trev knows you're off limits." He tells you.

Your eyes shoot up to his, and you're sure that this time, he's looking at you the same way you look at him. Quinn Hughes is in love, and it's not with his girlfriend.

"Yeah? I'm not so sure 'off limits' means much to anyone anymore."

Quinn smiles at you, running a hand through his hair, and you smile back because you know the ball is in his court.

"I should probably get going, Nat. Early practice tomorrow, Captain needs his sleep."

You desperately want to tell him that he can spend the night, like he usually does. Half of your closet is filled with his clothes anyway, but instead you hop off your stool and walk him to the door.

"Thank you for the treat," You tell him, and there's still that damn smile on his face that is driving you insane, because you made him smile like that, and you know what it means, but the two of you won't say anything more. You open the door for Quinn, but before he steps out, he grabs your hand, pulling you close to him.

He places his hands on your cheeks, and before you can react, he kisses you. One, two, three times.

Neither of you say anything before he starts to walk away, leaving you in your doorway, swooning and dumbfounded.

You shut your door, knowing what you should do next. It's like deja-vu, the way your fingers are trembling once again. You pull your own phone out of your pocket and open up your messages. Jacks contact is first, a text he sent a few hours ago, staring right at you. Your fingers are on a mission to send a simple text.

ill see you at the lake house

#quinn hughes #hockey boys #hockey blurb #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #jack hughes #nhl fic #luke hughes #hughes brothers

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mrsshabana · 7 months

Note

PLEASE QUEEN, I need answers, in your post talking about some wip's that you were thinking about, I saw "shark", I hope I'm not hallucinating, but please, can you tell me a little about it??🏃🏃🏃

Omg yes! I'm so happy you asked about this one! The shark au is something me and @lilliumteaandbeez came up with. We have a ton of lore we came up with together, though I don't have much written for it. I believe I wrote this in February, and it isn't much but I'll share what I have!

More about Sharktaro though, he is also a siren! So, for the people that have been asking me for a siren au, this is the start of it.*･♡

✧:･ﾟ→ My WIP's

𝑺𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒏!𝑮𝒚𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒐 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Your motion sensored camera got activated last night.

That’s why you find yourself trudging through a light rain shower, stepping through heaps of wet sand and over slippery rocks.

The camera had been set up in an alcove seated on the beach. A small cave sits on the edge of the ocean, with a deep pool of water seated in the middle of it. But deeper into the cave, the water becomes more shallow, and there is a rocky ledge circling the edge of the water, perfect for you to set up your camera to observe the unusual alcove.

It was for research of course. As a marine biologist you are always searching for unique phenomena. With this particular experiment, you were hoping to catch seals using this alcove as a shelter when hiding from circling sharks. But instead you were notified in the middle of the night by a strange photo being captured.

You couldn’t quite make out what it was. It was blurry and dark. The creature looked long like a seal but it almost appeared as though it had sharp claws. Having no idea what it could be, you are filled with anxiety and curiosity as you arrive at the cave.

Sounds of distant thunder echo in the distance.

You turn the corner and step into the darkness. The approaching storm blocking any sunlight that may have illuminated your path.

Flickering on your flashlight, you point it towards the shallow end of the cave.

Before you lies a humanoid figure. Laying on its side, back facing towards you.

The bottom half of its body resembles a shark. A long blue-green tail littered with dark spots. The spots cover his entire body, even the upper half which resembles a human man. The creature has a large fin on its back and pointed ears. Its body looks emaciated, ribs moving with each shallow breath that he takes. And a mess of black and green hair sits atop his head.

The water surrounding his body is bloody, and his tail seems to have gotten tangled in a net.

“Oh my god…” you gasp under your breath. The small sound is enough to startle the creature, quickly turning around, staring right at you.

His eyes glow yellow, slit pupils dilate from the bright light. He opens his mouth to show rows of dagger sharp teeth.

A high pitched, rattling screech echos from his mouth. Hissing at you with every ounce of energy he has left, you know this is a warning. But you can’t stop yourself from walking closer to him, you want to help him. It’s in your nature to help and rehabilitate injured marine life, and a mythical merman is no exception.

As you get closer he starts to panic. Flailing his tail, showing his teeth, hissing loudly. He tries to get away but he is too tangled up. It doesn’t take long before more blood spills out of him, and he can’t muster enough energy to continue.

His eyes get heavy and his breathing becomes more shallow but his hissing persists as you stand a few feet in front of him.

“I-It’s ok,” you mutter, taking a few steps closer to him, “I’m going to try to help you.”

Throwing your backpack to the ground, you take a seat in front of him, rummaging through your bag to find any supplies that may be able to help this poor creature. You always make sure to come prepared, because out in the field accidents happen all of the time. So luckily you have an emergency medkit. It’s meant for humans but you are sure it will do the trick for the time being.

When you reach out to him he snaps at you, almost biting your arm.

“Hey! I’m trying to help you! I know you are scared, but I promise I won’t hurt you.”

You can see the hurt and fear in his eyes when he looks at you. He has no idea that you are trying to help him. But the blood spilling from his wounds is too much and he loses the ability to care. He knows that he will die soon, so he stops fighting you.

The largest wound is on his tail, near his hip. It’s a deep laceration of some kind.

Cutting part of the net, to give you enough room to tend to his wound. You decide that stopping the bleeding is more important, and you will work on untangling him afterwards.

There is no time to waste so you hurry and disinfect the area and prep your needle. With trembling hands you begin to suture the large wound, resulting in a low, painful whimper coming from him.

“I know it hurts, but I have to do this or you will bleed out,” you console him but don’t stop stitching him up.

The skin on his tail is thick and tough, taking a lot of effort to get the needle to go through. But after lots of struggling, you manage to get the wound sutured. Taking some gauze and holding it to the wound to soak up some of the blood.

Scanning over the rest of his body, he has lots of smaller lacerations. They look like claw marks. But you can’t think of any sea creature that would have claws like that…

Once the bleeding mostly stops on the larger wound, you go to care for the other wounds. Disinfecting, covering with bandages, and suturing a few that are particularly deep. You run out of gauze pretty quickly, as he has many wounds and the moisture of his skin combined with the humidity in the air quickly dampens them.

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #siren au #replies

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smurphyse · 11 months

Text

Big Bad Handsome Man | Spencer Reid

Series Masterlist | Smurph's Masterlist

Part 20 of Room 405

Warnings: angst, tension, awkwardness, strip-tease shows, morning sickness, blood

Summary: You and Spencer finally learn what each other do for a living

There were a few things in life that knocked Spencer on his ass. He really thought he had himself figured out more than once, and sure enough life came by and sucker punched him in the jaw, emerging from a passing crowd like an assassin in the night.

Each time his body lifted with the force. His feet left the ground and he hit the concrete with such force he was sure that blow would be the one to do him in. Each time, Spencer got back up. Sometimes it took weeks, months, even years …but he got back up eventually.

Those fists to the chin could never have prepared him for this, tonight. No, this was definitely another thing Spencer never saw coming.

"And now, the moment you've all been waiting for…" the announcer's voice rang out over the lounge as Spencer and Hotch waited for the Arends' to begin their set.

The crowd rowdily banged on tables and stomped on the floor, yelling in their excitement. Spencer looked around and cocked a brow at them. It was just a strip tease, how could these people be so into it when none of these performers would want anything to do with them on the outside?

"The Nocturne proudly presents, not for the first time and certainly not the last… the beautiful minds behind this den of depravity, the parents of pleasure, the owners and leads of this proud establishment…"

It felt wrong being here like this, with scantily clad people all selling the idea of sex and strip tease. He supposed it made some people happier to escape into this fantasy for a few hours…but you were his escape and he'd much rather be with you.

He blanched when he thought about how he'd tell you all about this, but then he thought maybe you'd like to see the show someday. Then he'd have to explain what the hell he was doing here in the first place… oh you were going to make such fun of him.

"Momma and Daddy, a song of lust and trust. Just don't cream your pants too early, children," the MC purred over the speakers as the lights went dark in the lounge. "It's about to get hot in here."

The curtain began to lift slowly, the drum rolls of the people and the band shuddering the ground beneath them. The tension in the air was thick, heady and putting Spencer on edge. A shimmering sinful red backdrop appeared behind the curtain, the glimmering dancefloor illuminating the whole place with the illusion of depravity.

Long, lean legs and glittery red stilettos began to appear, followed quickly by a matching bustier and feathered short skirt. Sleek hair was pinned up in a 50s style boudoir look, shining under the spotlights. The woman posed with a grin, leaning on one hip with a flourishing hand pointing up at the lights.

Charlie Arends stood behind her in black leather pants and a matching vest with nothing underneath, hair slicked back and a confident smirk on his face. He looked over the crowds as they began to cheer, the rest of the stage cast in shadow. He turned his head into the crook of her neck and placed a kiss there.

When the curtain hit the top, a sultry crimson glow blew across the stage, blinding Spencer for a moment.

A blasting of trumpets and saxophones exploded through the venue as his eyes adjusted, cheers from the crowd going wild. It was then that Spencer finally took in this woman and her outfit, and his stomach dropped as he noticed the final finishing touch.

A red collar with a heart charm…just like the one you'd surprised him with all those months ago when he came back from Texas after five weeks away.

Because the half naked dancer in a barely-there corset for every rich man in this room to see… was you… dancing with Charlie Arends.

Your head turned to press your cheek against Charlie's, and he quickly moved to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. His whole world stopped, a fifty pound weight sinking deeper in his belly as your hand pulled the back of his neck to bring him closer. You pulled away as the music swelled.

"The man is tall, mad, mean and good lookin', and he's got me at his eye," you sang sultrily as you and Charlie locked eyes with cheeky grins. Spencer's fingers gripped his pants leg tightly as boiling hot jealousy coursed through his veins. "When he looks at me, I go weak at the knees. Got me going like no other guy."

Your palm landed gently on your husband's cheek, his arm wrapping around your waist. He twisted you out in a flash, lingering fingers clutching yours as you posed for the crowds. They went wild as Spencer sat, mouth agape, watching you in the last place he'd ever thought you'd be.

"He's the devil divine, I'm so glad that he's mine. 'Cause he's my big bad handsome man."

A song of lust and trust…

Spencer foolishly thought you saved the lust part for him. Was this how you two always were? Clinging and close and unembarassed by touch?

Spencer's rational mind recalled you saying how close you were with your husband, that you didn't date because people never understood your relationship…but as he watched Charlie Arends dance sexily with you, he wanted to melt into a puddle of self-doubt and anxiety.

You twirled and sang with your lacquer-lined lips, smiling like a fiend. You turned back to him, belting out with a beautiful confidence, "Oh, the music he plays, the way he moves me and sways, rocks me to the floor."

Charlie placed a palm on your chest and with a choreographed shove pushed you to the floor. Your hand lashed out to grip his tie and pull him with you. Charlie leaned in close and licked a heavy stripe up your neck, and Spencer nearly shredded his pant leg as your eyes rolled back into your head. "When he sings in my ear, he makes me shiver and leer. Leaves me wanting more and more!"

Another carefully planned move later, and you were swept up high, then back on your feet. Charlie twirled you out, and with a faux look of surprise you gazed demurely at the crowd as your bustier slipped off and was thrown to the crowd, leaving you in just a lace red bra.

The crowd whooped and yelled, and without much thought besides not wanting any of these assholes touching anything belonging to you, Spencer’s hand reached up and snatched it out of the air.

“Cause he’s my big, bad, handsome man. He’s got me in the palm of his hand…”

A few celebratory claps and disappointed boos sounded out behind him, but Spencer's gaze was solely on you as he clutched the fabric. He vaguely noticed Hotch watching him worryingly out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored it. Instead he rubbed his thumb over the lace and beadwork, his usually lightning fast mind struggling to process.

He wanted to march right up on stage and throw you over his shoulder. He wanted to carry you out and make sure you knew who you belonged to… but another part of him was heartbroken. You looked so happy, in a way he'd only seen in Room 405. But then again, he'd rarely seen you outside it.

Your hair bounced free from your updo, falling over your shoulders. It flew with you as Charlie and you performed this routine. It was so practiced, so comfortable and full of trust between the two of you. He couldn't figure out why he felt so crushed, so betrayed. All he knew was that he thought he was falling apart in this stool.

The music swelled and boomed, the lights shone off your bright lipstick. Another flick of Charlie's wrist and your feather skirt was gone, disappearing over the crowd. It left you in only some lingerie and those sparkly stilettos, and it looked like something he would've bought for you.

Charlie twirled you out and you walked sultrily down the glossy stairs of the stage. Your hands flicked out expertly to draw attention to your figure. The music hit a peak, and with sudden fear, Spencer realized a spotlight had turned to him and you were fast approaching. This seat was a hot seat, a place for the performers to interact with the audience.

Spencer swore he saw the moment your breath caught in your chest as you spotted him. Your steps faltered, your jaw dropping. He shifted in his seat to sit up straighter, locking eyes with your suddenly pleading gaze. You looked back at Charlie with wide eyes, and his head cocked in confusion, but you quickly snapped back into gear as your part came up again.

Strutting to the hot seat he was in both metaphorically and physically, your hand slipped around Spencer’s shoulders as you plopped down in his lap. One long leg crossed over the other, and it took everything Spencer had not to pick you up and run you out of the lounge. Your palm slid over his chest, a perfectly manicured nail moving up to guide him by the chin to look at your beautiful face.

“With his rugged good looks, yeah, he’s got me hooked,” you sang sweetly, but your eyes were watery. You were scared and trembling in his lap at his reaction, and without much thought Spencer slid a hand over your thigh and squeezed your knee. “Got me where he wants me to be.”

“We’re going to talk about this later,” Spencer whispered in your ear as you sang. “Just act natural so nobody suspects.”

You didn’t react the way he thought, your eyes turning into a squint. In a flash you twirled off his lap. The spotlight followed you as you moved, hugging your curves in a silhouette. Your palms slid over his chest as you sang, “He’s the kind of guy that does it for me.”

With a quick push, Spencer’s chair flew back. He landed heavily on his back on the hardwood, watching in pure shock as you glowered down at him for a moment before turning on your heel away from him as the crowd roared. Hotch was there in a second, pulling him and the chair upright.

“He’s the devil divine, I’m so glad that he’s mine.” You sauntered back up the stairs slowly, hands flourishing out. The music pulsed through his veins as the crowd exploded with excitement and you wiggled your backside for every man in this place to see.

“Cause he’s my big. Bad! I’m so glad.” You turned enough to gaze sultrily out at the audience with a cocky grin, body posed seductively and wrenching Spencer’s heart in his chest. “That he’s my big bad handsome man, hmm…”

The lights cut out, flooding everyone in darkness. The crowd went wild, clapping and jeering. Spencer clenched his fingers around the bustier as he stared at the spot you and Charlie had occupied, a vein pulsing painfully in his forehead.

He knew this was irrational jealousy. You'd told him time and time again that your marriage was in name only…but that chemistry between you and your husband was undeniable.

Another act came on a few seconds after the lights faded, dancers flying about the stage in shimmering costumes and singing along to the beat, but his vision tunneled as it became nothing but background noise to Spencer's own insecurities.

You were the owner of the Nocturne, the wife of Charlie Arends, the mother of the witness to a brutal murder. You were the burlesque dancer who hated cops…the one Hotch said had a police officer ex who was abusive and cruel.

Why did you keep this from him?

"Reid," Hotch's voice came from his right, and Spencer turned to see his boss watching him with concern. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he spat through gritted teeth. Spencer picked up the bourbon courtesy of Miss Fierce and downed it in one gulp before slamming it back down on the table.

You ran straight to your office after stepping off stage, flinging the door open to your private bathroom as your stomach lurched. Your knees hit the tile painfully as you threw your dinner up into the toilet loudly.

Clutching the cool porcelain, your sobs broke free as your stomach emptied itself. The music downstairs vibrated the floor beneath you as you sat in a red lingerie set and sparkly stilettos for everyone to see. God, what did Spencer think of you now?

Everything had been going so well, too well. Loud footsteps came up the stairs as you leaned back to lean on the wall. You suddenly felt so dirty sitting there in underwear and a collar on a strip tease bathroom floor. You were nothing in that moment, once again a pregnant whore who felt like she had nowhere to go.

What the hell was he even doing in a place like this? Had one of his friends dragged him here and he lied and told you it was for work? Could you really be mad at him for coming here when you're the one who owned the den of sin?

Act natural so nobody suspects. He'd talked to you like a dirty little secret…and after this that was probably all you'd be to him.

Charlie flew into the doorway, collapsing to his knees and putting his hands on your shoulders. You burst into unwanted tears and clung to him like a child. Your future was so uncertain at that moment, and all you wanted was your best friend.

Charlie curled you up in his lap, holding you so tight you were sure to burst. He brushed back your hair to see you as heavy mascara streaked down your cheeks through the glitter and foundation.

"Baby, what is going on? Are you okay?" he asked softly, full of such protectiveness you wanted to hold him forever and not let go.

"Oh, Charlie!" you sobbed hysterically. "I need to go home. Please, please take me home."

"I… I, uhm," Charlie sputtered. He didn't let go of you, but you knew how he got when he felt bad about something. You sat up and watched him warily.

"What did you do?"

Charlie hung his head in shame, "The FBI is here. They want to talk to you."

You shook your head, "I can't. Not tonight. I need to go home, okay?"

"What's going on?" he asked seriously. His arms around you kept you grounded, but you were terrified. Your whole world seemed to be crashing down around you, and you didn't know what was going to happen next.

"Charlie…" you whispered. Your voice wavered, and Charlie stiffened. Slowly you raised your eyes to meet his. "I'm pregnant."

His jaw dropped, eyes widening in excitement…but then his face scrunched up as he likely realized that baby had no way of being his. Your heart sank into your belly as you watched the father of your children come to his own terms with this, and he nodded slowly.

“The boyfriend?” he asked quietly. You nodded. “Does he know?”

You shook your head, becoming frantic once more. “And for some reason, he’s in the audience in the hot seat… he didn’t know where I work and now he does and… oh, fuck, Charlie!”

You motioned to the mess you looked now with your smeared makeup and scant clothing. “He’s not going to want me anymore… you don’t know about my past, everything… the more he finds out about me the faster he’s going to leave and so will you!”

Charlie’s hand clamped suddenly over your mouth, his brows furrowing together. He watched you with such determination and love you could have died right there. “I know about your past. I didn’t leave, and if he leaves you because of this then you and that kid are better off without him. I’ll be a dad of six instead of five, and you and I both know whoever you marry after me is going to have to deal with that anyway.”

Tears poured over your cheeks and onto his hand. Charlie simply slipped it away from your mouth and pulled you into a bone crushing hug. You sobbed into his shoulder as he rocked you back and forth. “You… you knew? About me this whole time?”

Charlie nodded against your head, “My dad wanted a background check after you told me you were pregnant. I saw everything, and well… I didn’t give a shit because I knew that you were my soulmate, baby. He tried to talk me out of it and… I lied and told you it was because of the club. I’m glad he’s not in our lives, because we deserve to surround ourselves with people who accept us for who we are.”

He pulled back to brush your hair away from your forehead and smile at you. You couldn’t help but smile back. “That’s what we’ve done for the people here, together. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Okay?”

Your voice shook but you believed him, and you were so happy he never made you talk about being a call girl or made you ever feel bad for having to do what you did to keep Tulip safe. “Okay.”

Charlie kissed you then, soft and slow. It wasn’t sexual, it never was anymore. It was comforting, full of love and devotion in a way so few people would ever understand. You kissed him back, clinging to him like the lifeline he was in the darkness you’d found yourself in so suddenly.

There was a clearing of a throat, and a soft knock on the doorframe, and when you pulled away you found yourself looking up at Agent Hotchner… and Spencer, holding your discarded bustier.

“Mrs. Arends,” he said softly, always nice to you even though you’d been a raging dick to him time and time again. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, but you couldn’t pull your gaze from the sheepish man before you. He lacked all the confidence he had in Room 405, and instead watched you with watery eyes… you knew he’d seen you kissing Charlie, and it had broken his heart.

“Spencer,” you murmured, mostly in shock.

“Y/N,” he replied quietly.

Agent Hotchner sighed and ran a hand over his forehead. He held out a hand for you. “I think we have a few things to talk about, including your relationship with Doctor Reid.”

He and Charlie helped you stand shakily while Spencer held himself back with his hands shoved in his pockets. Your brows furrowed, and you pointed between them, “You two know each other?”

Agent Hotchner nodded, “Doctor Reid works with me in the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Charlie gasped and his head shifted down to you. Everyone seemed to be staring right through you as your brain struggled to process what he was telling you. Charlie thrust a finger at Spencer, “This is the boyfriend?”

Spencer's eyes lit up a bit, turning to you with hopefulness. Anger and confusion battled in your mind for dominance, old memories of Tulip's biological father swirling to the surface.

“I… I didn’t know,” you muttered, staring hard at Spencer. You cocked your head, “You’re in the FBI? You’re a cop?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, almost shamefully. “I convinced your husband to let us talk to you tonight… about interviewing Tulip. We think she might be th-.”

“You’re a cop!?” you asked again sharply. All the men seemed to take a collective cautious breath in as rage boiled through you like a wildfire.

Spencer's eyes clamped shut for a moment, like he always did when he was frustrated, and he ran a heavy hand over the back of his neck like he did when he was nervous. You knew that about him, all those little things about his personality…and here he stood before you in too similar a job as someone who almost broke you.

He opened them slowly, those long lashes flickering as he struggled to contain himself. Spencer straightened his shoulders and locked jaw. His reached out his palm with your bustier and handed it to you. "You should probably get dressed."

Your battered mind struggled through the slosh of emotions and all this new conflicting information, but you managed to look toward the mirror above the sink and see how much of a mess you were.

Mascara stained your cheeks, your lipstick smeared. Your lingerie was rumpled and rucked up around your waistline. The only thing still in tact was that fucking collar. Your chin began to wobble as you saw yourself… you looked just how you did when you were stripping for money or getting dressed after visiting a client… like a whore, a sex worker no FBI agent would dare be seen with.

You nodded slowly and grabbed it from him, your arms moving up to cover yourself. Sucking in a pained breath, you moved forward and pushed past them without a word and into your office.

You had a paper divider by the window so you could change by yourself and in privacy, and a dresser behind it. With wobbly legs, you struggled to carry yourself over, but Charlie was right behind you, keeping you safe without having to ask for it.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Miss Fierce came in. Her jaw dropped a bit as she spotted you, but she didn't comment on it when she saw Charlie. She thrust a thumb over her shoulder, "I'm sorry to bother, but there's some guy bothering Tessa near the bathrooms."

"Where's Manny?" Charlie asked gruffly, making it clear he didn't want to leave you.

"He's on stage and so is Marty."

"Go," you told him softly, but he put a hand on your waist to tell me he didn't want to. You pushed him lightly, "Seriously, go take care of it. I'll be fine."

He shifted so you couldn't see Spencer or Aaron, leaning in close, "You sure?"

"We have to take care of our girls, Chuck." You gave him a soft smile, "You know me. I'll be okay."

Charlie nodded and pressed his lips to your forehead. He turned on his heel and made his way out of the office, making sure to take the time to eye Spencer on his way out. Miss Fierce followed after him, closing the door quietly on her way out.

"Have a seat," you offered, waving my hands at the fuzzy pink chairs in front of my desk. You went behind the divider and opened a drawer where they couldn't see you. There was a dressing mirror in the corner, and it took all you had not to break down looking at yourself.

"Obviously, this situation was unexpected," Aaron's voice came from the other side. You heard him sigh and continue, "I knew Spencer had a girlfriend, but I didn't know it was you and he had no reason to tell me as such."

You shrugged a long duster over a bodysuit tank top and pulled on some jeans, but something about that sentence bothered you as you dressed. You slipped on a black pair of stilettos and pulled your hair back into a ponytail. The anger bubbled further to the surface as you wiped off your makeup, and as soon as you were done you flew out from behind the divider in a rage.

“You knew your team was questioning my daughter!?” you snarled as you stomped toward the desk, your finger pointed at Spencer. “Did you read my file?”

His eyes turned to saucers, wide and a bit scared of your rage. Spencer leaned back in the ridiculous chair and braced himself on the arms. “I… I didn’t…”

Aaron put a hand between you as if to protect him. “Out of respect for your privacy and explicitly detailed lack of trust in the police, I did not divulge any information with my team except what was necessary. Doctor Reid had no idea you were the mother of a victim.”

Spencer watched you and nodded as your chest heaved. You couldn't seem to help but growl as you struggled to contain your anger. You hated cops. They couldn't be trusted.

You decided to sit down and pour yourself a drink of water from the bottle you kept in your desk drawer. You didn't offer Spencer or Aaron anything, just took a long sip and glared at them.

"We initially came here tonight to see if you were open to the idea of Doctor Reid speaking with Tulip," Aaron continued cautiously. "He doesn't seem to have had any idea you worked here even though you're supposedly together, but I guess that's something we can sort out later."

"I'm pretty sure I told you exactly where to shove your badge after talking to her last time," you replied coldly, setting the heavy tumbler on the desk. "She's had nothing but nightmares since she spoke with you."

"I understand, but Reid has a great rapport with children, and like I said before I believe talking about it is going to help Tulip more than keeping it inside."

You turned to Spencer, who watched you with those damned puppy dog eyes, "Why should she talk to you?"

"I, uhm, specialize in what we call 'cognitive interviews,'" Spencer started slowly. He cleared his throat awkwardly and rubbed his neck again, and all it did was make you angrier. "This is especially helpful with children. We talk them through the incident as if it's happening in real time, and they experience it again in a safe space where they know they can't be injured or harmed."

He swallowed thickly, hardly able to keep eye contact with you. How could he after seeing you on stage? "It helps people work through the effects of early PTSS, as the event no longer tends to appear in their mind like it's still happening."

You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned back, eyeing him critically. Spencer leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and finally locked eyes with you.

"You'll be right by her side, keeping her safe," he pleaded, eyes wide and full of what you could have confused for love for you if tonight hadn't happened. "Please, sweetheart, trust me with this. I won't let anything happen to her. You have to know that."

"I don't know anything right now," you whispered, and he nodded sadly. Using his nickname for you in this situation… it gutted you.

And knowing you were pregnant…you wanted to believe him, but your mind was so scattered. You had kids who needed you now, and your body was trying to create a new one. All this stress… it couldn't be good for you or the baby.

A sharp scream echoed from downstairs, jolting all three of you from your spot. Your family was down there, and you were on your feet quicker than Spencer or Aaron. You tore across the room without any thought, barreling down the hallway with them following closely behind.

"Sweetheart, stop!" Spencer called, and you heard the familiar click of a gun leaving its holster. You hadn't even noticed one on him… so many things you didn't know about the man you were in love with.

As you reached the bottom of the spiral stairs, you spotted a group of people gathered around the bathroom doors. The music had stopped, and someone had turned all the lights on, which only made the danger seem that much more nefarious.

"Move!" you yelled, shoving through the throngs of people. If one of your girls was injured, you needed to get to them. "Get out of my way!"

There were a few disgruntled hey lady's as you elbowed your way through them. Flinging open the door to the bathroom, you stopped dead in your tracks at what you saw on the tile floor.

A man was slumped under the sink, a bloody trail leaking from his stomach and over the porcelain. Your eyes glazed over the scene, not really processing it, until you saw Charlie.

He lay on his back, and he wasn't moving. His blond hair was flecked with splattered blood and mucus. His face was covered with thick red liquid, pooling beneath him and onto the floor below. Your veins filled with ice as you began to panic.

You collapsed with a scream, reaching out and cradling his head in your hands. It smeared under your palms and across his skin, but you tried to push that out of your mind. He grunted a bit but his eyes didn't open. "Charlie? C'mon, baby, look at me!"

"Move," Aaron's voice came from the side, and he pushed you away. His hands wandered under Charlie's neck, and you realized he was checking for a pulse.

"No, no, no," you sputtered, unable to comprehend the sight before you. It was all too much, and you couldn't do this without him. You needed him.

You tried to put your hands on Charlie again, babbling like a child, "Charlie, baby. Baby, please wake up!"

"Reid, get her out of here!" Aaron snapped, and before you knew it a pair of hands grabbed you under the armpits and lifted you in the air.

"Get off me! Let me go!" you screeched, kicking and flailing, but Spencer never dropped you.

He pushed you out the door, and you managed to wiggle out of his grasp, falling to the floor. Your morning sickness hit, and before you knew it you threw up all over the ground.

The gawking staff and customers cast a wide berth, not wanting to get your sick on them even during a time like this. Spencer's pulled back your ponytail as you threw up again.

"It’s okay, it's gonna be okay," he soothed, rubbing a palm over your spine. "Sweethe-."

"Get off me!" you snarled, shoving him away. Spencer lifted his hands from you and held them up to prove he wouldn't touch you again. You panted as you watched him on your knees, "Let me in there. Now."

He shook his head firmly, getting on his knees to block you. "I can't do that. I called 911, and they're on their way. You'll only get in the way."

Your face scrunched up in rage as you pointed past him, "That's my husband in there!"

Spencer sighed and nodded. You watched in confusion as a tear trickled down his cheek.

"I know."

"He needs me."

Spencer shook his head now and wiped his face, "He needs EMS, and Hotch is first aid certified. You need to stay here."

You couldn't focus your rage anywhere else but at him, lurching forward and shoving him again from your spot on your knees. "You don't get to tell me what to do! Not you, not ever again!"

"Okay," he agreed sotfly. Spencer looked like he wanted to touch you again, but he kept himself back. "Okay, whatever you want."

All the fight left your body as you began to hear sirens, and you went mostly limp on the floor. Tears streaked down your cheeks, your hands slick with blood as you watched the love of your life keep you away from your soulmate.

"He's my husband," you whispered tearfully.

"I know," Spencer said again, his chin wobbling. He nodded bravely, but his eyes were red and watery. He gave you a weak smile.

"I know."

Notes: I promise you we'll have a happy ending!

I also wanted to say thank you. I know this was a long update coming, but I have had some of the craziest stuff go on, both good and bad! I chose to work on other stories since I had a block on this for so long, and people gave me a lot of hate... so for those of you who were nice and encouraging, THANK YOU <3 It means a lot to me.

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