Angsty prompts were specifically requested in our survey, so here they are. Since September is smutty and October is fluffy, I decided that November will be angsty. Special shout out to @dcbbw for coming up with the name for the event.
This event will run for the entire month of November 2024.
The Rules:
Open to all choices fandoms. All forms of creative expression are accepted: Fics, artwork, edits, text fics, etc.
Deadline is November 30th, 2024 11:59 CST.
To ensure you get reblogged and added to the master list, make sure to do the following:
Tag @choicesprompts
hashtag #choicesprompts and #angstgiving2024
Don't forget to tell us which prompt you're using!
Prompts don't have to be done in order or used on any particular day. Pick and choose as you like, and submit whenever. You may combine prompts. You may have more than one submission per prompt if you like.
That's it! Go forth, create and be great!
The Prompts:
I regret everything
How can you not love me anymore?
Please don’t leave
This is all my fault
Watching the ex you still love fall for someone else
Betrayal
Finding out you’re the “other person”
The person you love was tortured/killed to get to you
Helping the person you love fix their relationship with someone else
What could have been
What used to be
A funeral
Sacrifice
Let him/her think I’m the bad guy
I can’t go back there
I won’t let you hurt him/her
I’m not coming back
I’ll wait forever
Did you ever love me at all?
Everything is always just out of reach
I can never make it right, but this is a start….
Trapped by my own lies
This can’t be happening again
You have to believe me
We’re going to die here. I’m sorry I drug you into this.
I love you, but we can never be together
I see your face everywhere, but you’re not really there
Book: Open Heart, Book 1
Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks)
Rating: General
Warning: None
Category: Fluff
Word count: 1.5K
Prompt: Ethan doesn’t care to celebrate his birthday, but that doesn’t mean he wants to spend it alone.
A/N: My Ethan’s birthday is October 5th. This fic takes place during Sawyer’s intern year.
For @choicesoctober event: autumn / favorites things / celebration
For @choicesprompts Flufftober 2023 event: Birthday Surprise
It was a crisp autumn morning in early October. The sun was still rising when Sawyer exited the hospital and came face to face with Ethan.
“Hi! You’re here early,” she greeted, surprisingly perky after a grueling night shift.
“And you’re here late. Wasn’t your shift supposed to end at five?”
“It did, but after clocking out, I went and checked on Dr. Banerji one more time. He was awake, so I stayed and chatted with him for a bit.”
“I’m sure he appreciated the company, thank you,” Ethan replied.
“I think he did. He was all too happy to share several stories about you as an intern,” she smiled devilishly.
While teasing him about getting caught in a supply closet, Sawyer began to shiver. Accustomed to much warmer climates, she had not yet adjusted to the much colder temperatures in Boston, and found herself unprepared nearly every time she went outside.
“Hold this for a minute,” Ethan instructed, handing her his tall cup of steaming hot coffee from Derry’s.
As he unzipped and removed this jacket, Sawyer was distracted by the words written on the side of his cup. Happy birthday, Ethan!
Busy processing this bit of information, she was almost startled when Ethan offered her his coat.
“Here,” he said, holding it open for her.
“Oh, thanks…but wait…are you sure you won’t need it later,” she stammered, shifting the coffee from one hand to the other as she slid her arms into the sleeves.
“I’ll be fine,” Ethan assured, spinning her around and zipping the jacket. When he realized what he was doing, he dropped his hands and cleared his throat, “Sorry, you probably could have done that yourself.”
Sawyer smiled, unfazed.
“Thank you. In Arizona, we would still be wearing shorts and flip-flops this time of year,” she chortled, “I’m still getting used to real fall weather.”
Sawyer handed his coffee back and wondered if he had forgotten about their plans to research Naveen’s case that night. Presumably, he would have other plans for his birthday.
But before she could ask, he confirmed, “Just bring it back tonight.”
“You’re still wanting to work on the case tonight?”
“Yes…but if you are no longer available, I understand–”
Sawyer could have sworn she caught a flash of disappointment and quickly interjected, “No! I mean, I am. Available.”
“Good. My place at seven? If I get delayed checking on Naveen, let yourself in and make yourself at home.”
“Okay. I’ll see you later,” she nodded, a plan forming in her head as she started toward the train station.
A hot shower and a few hours of sleep later, Sawyer left her apartment on a mission.
When Ethan arrived home shortly before seven o’clock, he was not expecting to find the lights on.
“Sawyer?”
“In the kitchen!” she called back.
As Ethan rounded the corner, the kitchen came into full view, and he was taken aback.
“Happy birthday,” she softly exclaimed.
Genuinely surprised, “How…how’d you know?” he asked.
“Your coffee cup this morning.”
“I see. Outed by the coffee rewards program,” he said amused.
On the kitchen island, there was a large paper bag, a bottle of wine and scotch, and a bouquet of chocolate bars with a couple balloons tied around the base.
“You…you didn’t have to…thank you,” he fumbled for words, sincerely touched.
Sawyer gestured to the two options, “Take a load off and pick your poison. I wasn’t sure what you’d be in the mood for, so I got both.”
Ethan reached for the scotch. While Sawyer hunted down two tumblers, he examined the bottle.
“This is one of my favorites.”
It wasn’t the most expensive brand, but a bottle would certainly stretch an intern’s budget.
“Yeah, I know. I stopped by Donahue’s and asked Reggie what you liked,” she revealed. “That’s actually a gift from him. He insisted when I told him it was for your birthday.”
Ethan shook his head in wonder. “I’ll have to remember to thank him when I see him next.”
He finally sat and poured a glass, taking a sip and savoring the smooth, smokey flavor.
Meanwhile, Sawyer busied herself with dinner, removing takeout containers from the paper bag and grabbing plates from the cupboard. She plated his dish and passed it to him.
Ethan couldn’t believe his eyes when he looked down at the swirl of black pasta on his plate.
“Is this from Coppa’s?”
“Mm-hmm,” she answered, “...you conveniently mentioned it was one of your favorite restaurants last week.”
“But I don’t recall telling you Linguine Alla Sepia was my favorite dish,” Ethan countered, twisting the squid ink pasta and Rhode Island calamari around his fork.
“You didn’t. I gave the hostess your phone number and they were able to pull up your previous orders in their system.” She continued, “And in case you’re wondering how I knew about the candy bars, well, you left a wrapper in your coat pocket.”
“First, you discover the secret behind Patient X, and now all of this. I don’t know whether to be impressed or scared,” he poked fun.
“Or proud that my mentor has instilled in me the importance of listening and observing,” she suggested with a wink.
“What did you order?” Ethan wondered, as Sawyer reached for her meal container.
“Pizza.”
“Of course you did,” he chuckled.
“Why is that funny?” she asked.
“Rookie, if there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s that you would be perfectly content ordering from the kid’s menu.”
“Says the guy eating squid!” Her body trembled in disgust and she pretended to gag, earning a toothy smile from Ethan.
As they dug into their meals, their playful banter eventually faded into a peaceful lull. After a couple minutes, Sawyer finally broke the silence with the question that had been on her mind all day.
“Hey, why didn’t you cancel for tonight?”
“Why would I?” he asked innocently, taking another bite of pasta.
“Surely you had better things to do on your birthday. Dinner with your family? Drinks with friends? A date?”
From the corner of his eye, Ethan could see her staring down and picking at her pizza, appearing almost nervous.
“My dad and I usually go out to dinner. He’s coming up this weekend,” he explained. “To be honest, I don’t care much for the attention, or for people making a big fuss.”
“Oh, I’m sorry if I–,” she started.
Covering her hand with his own, he cut her off, “This is perfect, Sawyer. Thank you.”
As the evening wore on, they enjoyed the rest of their meals, drank, talked, and laughed. When it was time for dessert, Sawyer lit a candle, pressing it into Ethan’s tiramisu. She spared them both a solo rendition of the birthday song.
“Make a wish,” she insisted, holding the plate a few inches away.
Ethan’s eyes flitted between the burning candle and Sawyer’s eyes before he blew it out.
Neither had realized how much time had passed until Sawyer cleared the dessert plates and noticed the late hour on the microwave’s digital display.
“Wow, is that really the time?”
Checking his watch, Ethan too realized it had gotten late. Much too late to start any research on the case.
“I’ll find some time tomorrow to review the new case studies. We should probably call it a night.”
Like this morning, disappointment once again flashed across his face. Not realizing that Ethan was only upset that the night had to end, Sawyer misinterpreted his distress as frustration and offered an apology.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get any work done.”
“Don’t be. If I’m being honest…,” he exhaled, “it was nice to have a night off.”
“Then, I'm glad I could help provide a distraction," she smiled, internally breathing a sigh of relief.
Together they cleaned up and waited for her ride.
“Your car is here,” Ethan announced when his phone pinged. Sawyer gathered her things and he followed her to the door.
“Thank you for tonight, Sawyer.”
“You’re welcome,” she beamed up at him.
Suddenly the air became heavy, a standard goodbye not feeling adequate for the celebratory occasion. Cutting through the awkward tension, Sawyer slid her arm over his shoulder and pulled him in.
Ethan far from minded the gesture, but even still, he cautiously accepted the friendly squeeze, placing a hand between her shoulder blades.
The hug only lasted long enough for the intern to wish her boss a happy birthday one last time.
“Happy birthday, Dr. Ramsey.”
Then they parted. When Sawyer cracked the door, Ethan reached over her head to hold it open for her.
“Goodnight, Rookie.”
She offered a small wave and Ethan closed the door with a contented sigh.
All he wanted for his birthday was to spend an evening with the person who made his worries disappear and his burdens feel lighter. Tonight, he got everything he wanted. In fact, much more than he had hoped for. And if birthday wishes came true, there would be many more nights like this in his future.
summary: trystan always wants to take care of you, even if it's 3.12 a.m. in the morning.
pairing: m!trystan thorne x f!mc (written as ‘you’, no name usage)
warnings: mature/smut (minors DNI!), major spoilers from book 2!
a/n: in honour of the end of book 2 because the authors spared my heart (tq <3) and honestly? this is one of my favourite pieces I've ever written, and not just because it's Trystan. it's just a little reminder that we all need a break every once in a while, yknow? gave my all in this, especially for Smutember, so don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ
» fancy reading another choices fic? check out my m.list!
» smut includes; gentle (+ occasionally mean) dom!trystan, ‘beautiful’ as a pet name, nipple play, fingering, mild spitting, fingering, missionary, unprotected sex (p in v sex), praise kink, loads of kisses (a lot)—Trys is extra kinky but y’all already knew that. (prompts used at the end of fic!)
'But Trystan was stubborn as he was gorgeous, which is the same sentiment he has for you, to no one’s surprise.' ;
He groaned awake the moment he felt the side next to him unoccupied. It didn't take long for him to realize he had been hugging your pillow instead of you—you must've slid it into his reach when you got out of bed. Though he could’ve assumed you went for a quick run to the bathroom, he couldn’t help but glance at the door to the living room opened ajar, noticing the light slightly coming in.
And like a moth to a flame, the amber light was practically calling him to look for you.
He checked the clock on the nightstand, his brows shooting up in surprise to see the time; 3.12 a.m. You were normally back in his arms around 2.30 a.m.
Sighing, he stretched, joints popping and cracking as he did. It didn't take long for him to sit up, pushing the blanket off with his feet and trudging his way to the bathroom to splash his face.
In the midst of his awakening, he couldn't help but wonder what was different today. You couldn't be doing work at this hour, you (jokingly) promised not to touch a single file for the first few days of your well-needed break, and even if you broke your promise of straying away from work at least for a little while, it just didn’t feel right.
Big issue or not, something was obviously wrong.
He exited the bathroom, wiping his hands with a hand towel, only to freeze up as he heard rustling in the corner of the room, just next to the floor lamp. He looked over at the dog bed, breaking into a smile as Alice let out a whine. Her eyes darted to the door before focusing on the man before her, as if silently telling him that she, too, noticed. Seeing her endearing head tilt, wondering what either of them should do, drew a soft sound of amusement out of him.
Still, Trystan couldn’t help but let out a shaky sigh soon after. He had his suspicions, he just didn’t want to panic. Somewhere in the back of his mind, just the tiniest part of his brain, he feared the absolute worst. He even wondered why he didn’t scramble out of bed as soon as he noticed your lack of presence.
One may call him clingy from afar but he had a damn good reason for his concerns.
The very thought of you ending up like Juliana.
However, his more rational side was quick to dispel his doubts and nightmares. If anything did happen to you, which he hoped to God nothing did, one; he would’ve jolted awake at the sound of you fending off, for you were a force to be reckoned with, after all, and two; Alice could’ve easily smelt the first sign of danger and done her best to alert him.
“We won’t take long.” He reassured her, scratching the spot just behind her ears. It immediately soothed her worries as one of her back legs began kicking in delight.
He stood up, exiting the bedroom before closing the door, figuring this might just be between you and him for the time being. Thankfully, he was grateful for remaining level-headed for it took little to no effort to find you.
There you were, one of your arms spread wide on the couch with nothing but your panties and Trsytan’s dress shirt buttoned only at the collar. You were swirling your drink idly, barely acknowledging the soft clinks of the ice as they slowly melted in the glass. Though seeing you just two articles of clothing away from being naked, he was more focused on how preoccupied you were with your thoughts. Your face, though subtle, held a myriad of emotions.
But if he had to describe in just a few words, you just seemed emotionally exhausted, hidden behind a veil of indifference.
It didn’t take long for you to look up, feeling someone’s eyes on you from your shared bedroom’s direction. You knew it wasn’t Alice, you would’ve heard her nails clicking against the floor and rushed over to lay by your side. You blinked a couple of times, refocusing on the present as you were greeted with Trsytan’s presence.
"Hey," You broke into a tired but warm smile, “You okay?”
Even in distress, you were still looking out for others. You weren't as subtle as you were hoping to be, or maybe he has lived with you long enough to pick up your habits. The itty-bitty details that even your own uncle wouldn't be able to notice, and no doubt you wanted to keep it that way.
But Trystan was stubborn as he was gorgeous, which is the same sentiment he has for you, to no one’s surprise.
“I should be the one interrogating you, detective,” He cocked his head, “It’s way past your bedtime.”
You were tired, that much was certain, but you weren’t keen on the idea of going to bed at the moment. Not with the thoughts going through your head, maybe even reality settling in. The close calls, the sleepless nights, the ‘bathroom breaks’ you had to take during a brutal investigation, only to bite your finger to stop yourself from crying as soon as you leave the office.
You hid them well, but you should’ve known better than to think it could work on Trystan, too.
Not that you were able to fool the rest of the crew either. You learnt that after the third attempt, about two years into your job, coming back to your desk from an episode to find an array of small but meaningful gifts on your desk, including essential oils, a couple of your favourite snacks and a tacky ‘hang in there’ card with a cat on it.
Though it obviously didn’t magically wash your worries away, you did remember ending the day on a much lighter note than you expected.
"Sorry, I couldn't sleep. You'd think after being given a week off, I'd be able to sleep like a baby." You let out a soft, hollow laugh before taking a sip of your drink, “‘Drooling away’, as you’d tell me oh so affectionately.”
You were forced to crane your neck as he approached you. You would’ve made a witty remark about him standing before you in just his briefs if not for the slight frown on his face,
"I do miss seeing you drool first thing in the morning,” He dodged the playful swat of your hand, “C'mon, back to bed, you."
"I can't sleep though."
"We don't have to. I feel like you and I would be more at ease if we stayed together. I know what the mind can do to someone if they’re left alone with their own thoughts for too long." He clarified with a wry smile. When you lacked any response or even a sign to move, he knelt in front of you, grabbing your free hand to hold in between his, "What can I do to help you?"
You pursed your lips, knowing you couldn't talk him out of this one. Not with his insistence.
Instead, you sighed, patting the empty spot beside you.
“Sit with me?” He didn’t give you the time to finish your question, occupying the spot as soon as you pat the seat. You chuckled, more genuine than the last as Trystan snuck his arms around you.
You took another sip, but before you could allow the sharp liquid to flow down your throat, you felt Trystan’s fingers caressing the outline of your jaw. Holding your chin in between his fingers, he turned your head so he could stare directly into your eyes. As he leaned in for a kiss, his tongue slipped into your mouth, sliding against your own and absolutely hooked on the taste. Your taste.
Sweet, slightly smoky, with a smooth finish, especially the lascivious display he had you in—an ardent lover his absolute most to clear his beloved’s head, even for just a split second.
He swiftly took the glass out of your hand, placing it on the coffee table before drawing you into a deeper kiss as he effortlessly lifted you onto his lap. Your body could only droop in his arms in the same way your eyes did.
Warmth slowly spread through his chest, the chilliness he felt prior to waking up gradually disappeared as his body temperature rose.
You were no better, face growing hot as you reciprocated almost bashfully. You weren't shy, not by a long shot, but it did catch you off guard.
You were the first to pull away, feeling something similar to a whiplash. That didn’t mean you wanted it all to stop, and as if Trsytan knew you best, he continued, pressing his lips to your jaw down to your neck as he decorated you with kisses. You could only give into his ministrations, lolling your head back a little.
Looping one arm around his neck, you shivered as his breath tickled the crook of your neck. Trystan could've easily been lulled by the gentle brushing of his hair.
"We can always go somewhere tomorrow." He murmured, prompting you to look down at the top of his head.
"I think I'd prefer to stay home. Just a day or two. With you. And Alice, of course," You smiled, patting his other arm with your free hand, "Why? Did you have somewhere in mind?"
"No, no, you know me and my impulsivity. I just thought you'd prefer a little rendezvous, just the three of us. Take your mind off things," Trystan trailed off, hoping to lighten up the mood, “I heard the zoo here is pretty nice.”
You snorted, shooting him a teasing glare even if he couldn't see it, “And risk you pulling me into a pool like you did in Drakovia? You’re not fooling me, Thorne. I can hear it in your voice.”
“Well, I tried.” He shrugged, sharing a soft laugh with you, though his died down way before yours did as he pulled away from you just a little. You wondered if it was just you, looking over and furrowing your brows when you saw him suddenly staring into space, deep in his thoughts.
“Trystan?”
He heard you loud and clear, and yet, couldn’t help but mull over the mention of his old home. Particularly, a memory he could never forget.
"I... I'm really sorry. In the library, back in Drakovia. I didn't mean to snap." No matter how hard he tried, hoping his mind could finally acknowledge that you had forgiven him, and despite everything that happened, from murders to betrayals in less than two months, the flash of disappointment in your eyes still haunts him to this day.
"Hey, come on. If my own family started pointing fingers at me after finding a dead body in my room, I'd get pretty testy, too."
"Don't do that, please," You would’ve thought he was scolding you if not for the desperation in his tone, "It was not okay. You've been there for me through and through, and that was the thanks I gave you?"
It was clearly eating him up inside.
"Trys, I admit. It… surprised me a little. But you know I would've told you if it bothered me," Work or not, you never liked beating around the bush. You pursed your lips, trying to figure out a way to bring out his old, infuriatingly passionate self, "Plus, you apologized even before I could figure out how to… punish you for it."
You were beyond relieved to see him crack a smile, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
"Oh? And how were you planning on punishing me, then?"
"Giving you the silent treatment." You replied without missing a beat, your smirk widening as his face contorted into disbelief and horror, though you knew he was partially playing into it.
"That's just cruel," He frowned. You wordlessly shrugged, biting down the cheeky smile that threatened to slip off as you turned your head to the side with your arms crossed, "And childish."
You continued to 'ignore’ him, looking around the unit as though he wasn't present.
"You know it's not going to work on me."
As if on cue, a loud honk resonated from the road below, grabbing your interest as you looked over at the window to see what the fuss was about. You could play the game all day and he clearly couldn’t.
“Still not working.” He added, almost as if trying to convince himself.
Nothing.
You knew you had broken his resolve when he let out a disgruntled huff.
"That's it."
He surged forward, wrapping his arms around you before pulling you in for a bear hug. He kissed and gnawed on your neck, the ticklish sensation only caused him to tighten his grip as you futilely tried to escape his grasp.
“Trystan!” You yelped and squirmed, unable to control the giggle that bubbled in your throat as he pulled the button-up you wore down, exposing more of your skin for him to attack, “C’mon, you’re not playing fair!”
“No? I thought the rule was simply not to speak up. So,” He cast you a shit-eating grin, “I win.”
You groaned dramatically, letting your head fall back to his shoulder as you succumbed to his cuddling tendency. You weren't fooling anyone with your supposed exasperation, though, and you couldn't resist either. So, you took everything he had to offer.
Nothing could deter you from the warmth he exuded, both inside and out. Not even as it began to drizzle in the night, raindrops pitter-pattering against the window.
Alice, too, probably understood that the two of you were fine, and was now sleeping soundly.
To him, this was peace; waking up not even at the ass-crack of dawn and rambling about the prizes you’ve won as a kid or making plans to drop off Alice at his sister’s while the two of you try out the dining in the dark experience restaurant that just opened the other day.
“Hey,” You said, looking over your shoulder. He hummed in response, wanting nothing more than to feel you. Talk to you. Listen to you. Anything to have you with him, despite the weighing guilt of momentarily making this about him instead of you, “I’m sorry for what happened.”
He finally opened his eyes, half-lidded and almost as tired as you were. No longer because of the lack of sleep but at the mere thought of his old home, the sheer whiplash of it all. Everything that happened in Drakovia felt like a fever dream; the good, the bad, and the utmost ugly.
“I’m sorry, too.” It may have been your line of work but he couldn't imagine being subjected to the chaos you two had endured, had he decided to fly home to solve the case and then come back to the States with anyone but you. Plus, the childhood reminiscing, cultural tours and sexual escapades he was able to share with you were what made the whole trip more than just bearable.
He didn't need anyone to tell him that his family was in fact not normal, and he most certainly wouldn't have vocalized his distaste in their ways if not for the agency.
That was not to say he was a coward, and he still loved his family. Every day, he thanked the universe for the outcome. Had he held onto a sliver of hope for some sense of belonging with the line instead of fighting for what he truly believed, who knows how it could’ve ended?
But it all hardly mattered now. His life wasn’t about Drakovia anymore, not to that extent It was no longer about the short-lived commodity and ‘hoping for the best’ as he did before and after his exile. Whether it was anything as mundane as being stuck in traffic with the crew or as ridiculous yet domestic as falling in the bathtub with you while giving Alice a much-needed bath. His life was nothing short of an adventure with the people that he, as cliché as it sounded, has seen as his own family.
Your eyes fluttered open as he planted a kiss on the nape of your neck, a delicate touch. One after another, his lips ascended to the sweet spot where your neck and shoulder just met.
Your breath hitched as his cold hands took hold of yours, swiping his thumbs over your knuckles. His hands then slowly travelled up your arms, imagining the goosebumps rising under the sleeves. With his shirt buttoned in a similar fashion to an off-shoulder top, he pulled the collar down your arms, just until your cleavage became more visible.
You could feel him smile into your back at the sight of your hardened nipples peeking through the material.
"Trystan..?" He hadn't spoken a word since his hands began to wander all over your body, and it remained that way for a couple more seconds as he trailed his lips across your newly exposed skin.
"Hmm?" He hummed, coming up at your eye level as he hooked his chin on your shoulder. Following his gaze, you watched your reflections in the window. It was unclear from the raindrops trickling down the glass, but enough to make out just how naked the two of you really were.
"I just…" He piped up, but not before moving to your other shoulder to peck and nose at, "I just want you to let it all go. Lose yourself to me."
You were like a fish out of water; it shouldn't have surprised you as it did, but something about his tone, the yearning, the sheer need to lift off the weight that you've been carrying for a while. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry now that you’d grown soft, letting your vulnerability seep through. You weren’t stupid enough to show your sensitive side out and about, but with Trystan, it felt wonderful to have someone ready as he was to take the reins.
"Can you do that for me?"
Then again, maybe you do know what to do.
You nodded deliberately.
"Can you say it for me? Please?"
“Yes,” You muttered under your breath, “Yes. Please, Trystan. Whatever you want.”
“No,” He raised your hand, kissing the back of it before looking into your eyes, “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”
He patiently waited for your reply, lips quirking in amusement as his eyes flitted to the way you ground your hips instinctively.
“Whatever I want…” You dragged his hands upwards, and instantaneously understanding your desperation for his touch, he squeezed your breasts before haphazardly doing it again upon sliding them under your shirt. His cold palms only caused you to jolt as he rolled your pebbled buds in between his fingers.
Grunting as he cupped your breasts, he pecked your forehead for your attention. You peered up at him, your eyes lost in the moment of lust before widening as Trystan leaned in. Your state of surprise allowed him entrance through your lips, licking the inside of your mouth as his only form of sustenance.
You could feel the patch forming in between your legs, though Trystan's sharp eyes were quick to notice how your thighs were rubbing together.
He broke the kiss, your breaths ghosting over each other's lips, "Feels nice, doesn't it? Letting someone else take control?"
One of his hands left feathery touches as he reached down to your panties; black, cheeky underwear with a lace trim that he's known and loved. He slipped past the waistband, though not touching the spot you needed him most just yet. Instead, he took a handful of the material via your other leg opening before pulling it upwards, cupping your sopping pussy.
Had you not reacted in such a lewd way, suddenly digging your nails into his thigh and arching your back, you would've noticed the lazy smirk forming on his face.
He then lifted the hem of your shirt, catching a glimpse of the tightened fabric rubbing in between your folds.
"I'd love to know what my darling wants." He reminded with a purr, shamelessly gazing upon the erotic display.
"I–!" You cut yourself off with a whine when he pulled the front from side to side, "Trystan, please! Please…" You placed your hand over his, the one playing with the bands of your underwear. He immediately let you take control, releasing his hold in favour of feeling your slick by brushing his fingers along your lower lips.
"You're dripping." He sighed in absolute bliss, imagining the slickness already coating his fingers before pulling his hand out of your panties without a warning.
Your protests died on your tongue when he let out a deep growl.
He turned you around, chest to chest before pressing his lips to yours with urgency. In the midst of your passionate embrace, Trystan began to sit up on his knees, manoeuvring you by the waist so you laid on your back. His knees were on either side of you, his right arm holding himself up on the seat just over your head.
He took a moment to appreciate you, his chest heaving as the lights of the bustling city surrounded you from behind like a golden halo crown.
He reached up to your face, gently caressing your cheek before leaning in for a smooch. Soon, he trailed soft kisses down your body.
You squirmed, hands resting on his shoulders as he descended. His lips lingered in the valley of your breasts, locking his eyes with yours as his tongue flicked and swirled around your nipples. He did the same to the other before proceeding to your tummy, but not before playfully pulling the bud with his lips.
Your hips continued to buck, seeking relief as his firm chest hovered just over the one place you yearned for the most.
“Easy,” Judging by his tone, he was enjoying this a whole lot, hiding the smug as he held your legs down. Figuring that he has left you enough kisses for the time being, he finally reached the flimsy material between him and your, well, his pretty pussy. His words, not yours, “How shall I go about this, hm?”
He dragged his fingers up and down your clothed sex, biting his bottom lip as you ground yourself against his teasing, “Is it just my hands that you want? Slowly stretch you open with three fingers? Or does my beautiful detective wish for my tongue as well?”
He licked a long stripe up the damp fabric, daring you to break eye contact. Your hand shot to his hair as you jumped.
“Or,” He held onto your thighs with a smack, “Both? Will you let me taste you a bit, too?"
“Yes! Both! B-Both, please, Trys!” You begged with a gasp, resisting the urge to just claw at his pesky hands. He offered you some mercy, but not before removing your panties painstakingly slowly. Carelessly tossing the little cloth behind him, he whistled at your glistening pussy, waiting for his attention.
“Both it is.” He wasted no time, dropping his head and licked into you as his tongue could reach. The sight of Trystan’s sturdy physique holding onto your legs like you were a lifeline as he buried his face in between your legs seared into your mind. Just as you bucked again, he pulled away but was just as quick to slip his middle finger into you.
You clenched around him just as the obscene squelch reached his ears, his finger bottoming out at his knuckles. He pulled his head back, only to surge forward once again to suck on your clit. He shook his head, soaking his lips and chin with your juices.
Satisfied with the way his fingers shined and glistened, he sucked on the juices before spitting it into your pussy. As if he wasn't a menace enough, he stuffed the same fingers back into you, with some of the spit mix leaking out.
This time, the pistoning of his fingers quickened, his lips parting as you did out of pure bliss. You could feel yourself trickling down, smearing your tight hole before the couch itself. Not that you cared, and neither did he.
Your legs trembled, and before just as you felt the rush of heat across your body, you forced him to stop by the wrist.
Trystan's brows shot up in surprise, and understandably so. Any signs of his tiredness seemed to have disappeared with a snap of a finger as he crawled over closer to check up on you. However, you didn't spare him a second and captured his lips with yours for a desperate kiss.
“N-No, no. I need you,” You muttered, his forehead resting against yours as he tried syncing his heartbeat with yours from the instantaneous high. His fingers remained stuffed inside you, now moving languidly. You choked out a sob, eyes rolling to the back of your head, “Fuck, please Trystan! Fuck me.”
Seeing you fall apart just by his hands and voice, begging him to take control was enough to result in the raging hard-on he was sporting. Each time he rutted against the seat felt almost painful just as it was more addicting than the last.
Like a man possessed, he did as he was told, removing his boxers with his free hand while kissing away the tears of pleasure that threatened to spill.
Slowly sliding his digits out of you, he unabashedly appraised how soaked three of his fingers were, especially glistening in the light. As much as he wanted to just suck it all off in one go, he, instead, licked your juices off his index finger.
"How could I say no?" He cooed, finally ridding the briefs as his cock sprung out. Beads of precum dribbled down the sides, visibly aching to be inside you. Trystan threw his head back as he stroked his cock, electricity coursing through his body as he sought even an ounce of relief from your juices alone.
You whimpered, clenching around nothing and absolutely yearning for him. Naturally spurred by your neediness, he towered over you as he trailed butterfly kisses up your frame, his unfairly large stature easily eclipsing yours.
Staring into your eyes with his half-lidded ones, he rested his forehead against yours, whispering in a tone that nearly moved you into tears for a totally different reason.
“There's no greater length I wouldn't go to to make you happy.”
Your throat tightened at his words, levelling his vulnerability just as you were to show you there was no shame in you being human.
You sniffled, nodding thoughtfully as you hooked your arms around his neck. He nuzzled the side of your face, whispering sweet reassurances before lining himself up against your tight slit.
He slowly pushed forward with a heady groan, gritting his teeth as he slowly breached your already clenching walls. He hung his head for a moment, feeling lighthearted from your intoxicating warmth despite not even halfway in.
“Fuck," He drawled, the very girth of him throbbed as he eased himself in inch by inch and ignoring his need to go to town with you. It took a lot in him, especially the way you huffed and moaned so deliciously in his ear. He knew you loved it, but you didn't need that right now.
“Trys–tan…!” You pleaded, pushing your hips back into him as he pulled out until the very tip, only to gasp sharply as he drove into you once more. He battered your cunt immensely, fueled by the way your nails dug into his back as if he may float away if you let go. He was so sweet, going slow yet deep if the way his muscles flexed was anything to go by.
A wanton moan slipped past your lips. You felt full, you were full, finding yourself in a drunken haze as he railed into you, coaxing you, or better yet, demanding you not to hold.
“Fuck, oh fuck,” His breaths grew ragged, fading into a disbelief chuckle, “That’s it, beautiful. Squeeze my cock, just like that.”
“M—Mn–gah–!” The second you felt him reach that one sensitive spot inside you, the pitch of your voice grew higher, "Right there..!"
His pupils were dilated, determined even at the very sound of your ass slapping against his thighs. You felt dishevelled, but Trystan thought were a sight for sore eyes, ready to be admired and worshipped.
"Gonna cum already?" You were too fucked out to think of a remark about the hint of condescension in his voice, though he made it up to you when he pounded into you a little faster, making your toes curl. It was all too addicting, despite the burn in your thighs from rolling your hips in hopes of chasing your high faster than you already were.
"Do it. Cum on me, make a mess. Bite me, scratch me, do whatever you want. I got you." He left open-mouth kisses up your jaw as his blown out pupils gazed upon yours.
With a final trust, you spasmed around his cock with an almost silent moan, holding onto him with a violent shiver. The way you clenched around him so tightly, almost constructing had one of his knuckles turning a tone lighter, clenching the seat hard as he spurted inside as you came as well.
His chest heaved, holding onto the little strength he had left to suffocating you if he were to ever fall in your arms. He didn't though, as breathless as he was, he still catered to you, leaving lazy kisses wherever he was able to reach.
It took the two of you a minute, probably even more, but he found the will to move, slowly easing himself out and cooing at you as you whined. Feeling your cum and his dripping out slowly when he hoisted you into his arms, now leaning into him this time.
The two of you remained still, minus the exchange of kisses and worn out smiles with one another. There was no need to rush, even when the occasional tremors of your thighs or Trystan's heavy breathing have stopped after some time.
"Trys?" You whispered, throat a little raspy from your whines and screams. He held his hand up with a ‘hang on’, standing up with a slight shakiness in his knees, not bothering with the briefs he had tossed to the floor as he casually walked to the kitchen. You remained on your back, hearing the fridge door open before it closed. He then whirled around to the bedroom door, initially planning to get a towel and a blanket, only to stop dead in his tracks.
He didn’t know how to feel about going commando while Alice could potentially wake up, especially after the noises you made.
He felt stupid but he'd prefer it as such rather than traumatize your sweet girl.
Instead, he decided to check the guest bathroom.
He returned with two towels and a cold water bottle in hand, twisting the cap open before offering it to your lips. You gulped a good amount, just until Trystan was confident to pull it away and have a sip on his own.
He even made drinking look good, your eyes darting between his bobbing Adam’s apple and the sheen of perspiration glazing his body. Half bottle gone, he placed it next to the now watered-down beverage, covered and trickling with condensation. He then grabbed the blanket conveniently draped over the headrest, for movie nights where you would likely fall asleep in front of the TV.
He took a good couple of minutes cleaning you up, wiping off the beads of sweat then the oozes of cum between you thighs with the second towel. He did the same for himself but not before passing you the bottle once more, silently telling you to drink a little more.
He fell back on the couch with a contented sigh, opening up his arms for you to join him.
“Come here,” You did as he told, snuggling in his chest and letting out a squeak as he smooched the crown of your head a couple of times, “You were saying?”
"Let's do something later." You turned your head upwards, watching his eyes gleam at your suggestion.
"Anything you'd like." You didn’t think this through, but you did know that you wanted to do something. Just then, you remembered the food market being held in Williamsburg for the next couple of months.
“There’s this Japanese food place that I’ve been meaning to try at Smorgasburg…” You began, but you didn’t have to explain any further for him to be on board.
“Consider it done,” He then squinted his eyes, focusing on the arms of the clock hanging above the TV, “It doesn’t start until 11, right? Might as well get some shut-eye in the meantime.”
He was right, the vendors wouldn't be open until another five hours or so, and as if on cue, you were hit with a wave of tiredness. Your eyes began to feel droopy, prompting you to make yourself comfortable in his arms.
“Is that a yes?” He asked with a chuckle. You nodded with an ‘mhm’, “Thank you.”
“For the nap?” You quirked a brow, his expression settling into a warmer one as you smiled at each other. He closed the distance between your faces, pressing a kiss on the apple of your cheek.
“For everything.” He could go on and on about how much his life changed when the two of you met and vice versa, but he’d rather not give you a blackmail-worthy material if he were to ever talk nonsense in his sleep, although he had no doubts that you’d prefer otherwise. He was starting to doze off just as you did, pulling the covers higher before flicking the lamp light switch off and letting you snuggle against him. Your only source of light being the twinkles and glimmers of the city itself.
That brought a bright smile to your face, touched to see just how far you were. You really have fallen hard, but what was new?
It’ll be another day once the sun shines, but for now, he could rest easy, and so could you. And even if you did wake up past what was initially planned, or if the day remained too rainy for you to head out, that was fine, too.
With Trystan around, there wasn't anything for you to worry about.
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
» tagging @choicesficwriterscreations & @choicesprompts for smutember! ;; & the gorgeous red rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡
» prompts used ;; 3. let me taste you ; 8. sweet & slow ; 24. worship
note: initially I thought about writing a collection of short oneshots about haikaveh, but it's also true that on this account I write about them daily, and there's hardly anything I haven't written about them yet. Additionally, for the next month I also intend to participate in haikavember challenge, time permitting, and repeating the same ship would just make everything monotonous. So, I thought maybe I could introduce a new ship, new characters that I'm trying to get to know and handle with extreme care. I thought about writing some small drafts, wip pieces, of what could be a possible modern au/family au about wriolette, and this challenge is giving me the opportunity to do so. I can't guarantee that all the prompts will be focused on the au or even the ship, perhaps some will be standalone oneshots, but we'll see what this journey has in store.
Good reading ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ I hope you enjoy these little wips or potential oneshots
tag: @choicesprompts
IN THAT KISS THE CLOCK OF TIME HAD STOPPED and rewinding its hands it was as if their years had been halved, bringing them back to a younger time, discovering the happiness hidden behind a kiss given under the eternal gaze of the world.
That's how Neuvillette felt when the lips of the man who lived downstairs touched his. It was a perfect kiss that concluded an equally perfect night, spent wandering the bright streets of Paris in the glow of the moonlight. Walking side by side, smiling nervously, and stealing shy glances at each other like two teenagers in the throes of their first crush. But they were far beyond being young boys, and their age was beginning to show for what it was. Neuvillette pulled away from those lips that had welcomed his, dragging him into an experience he would define as transcendental and that he hadn't felt for many years.
"What are we doing?" he murmured as if awakened from a trance.
"We're kissing" his lover replied, still holding him by the hips. Neuvillette tightened his lips and curved them into a gentle smile. They were still so close that they could feel each other's warmth.
"Aren't we too old for such frivolities?" he chuckled to himself as if it were a very funny joke but concealed the bitter truth: they were no longer youngsters but two grown men with the aches of old age, and yet there they were, under the dark cloak of night, with the man he had met just three weeks ago leaning against the wall of some respectable person's house, kissing as if they were still in the prime of their years. But to those invasive thoughts, the man who had been kissing him until a moment ago put a stop "Ah! What a cruel world to deceive people into believing there's a time for everything" replied Wriothesley, caressing his man's tense face, who was now pouting. "And to make them feel guilty for creating their own happiness" Neuvillette added, placing his hand on top of the one that was gently stroking his face, welcoming that delicate form of warmth and love he never thought he'd receive again. It wasn't wrong to let go, there was no limit to how many kisses could be given and received, nor was there a limit to the shape of love that best suited one's desires.
🥰For @choicesprompts Flufftober 2023 event: I want to take care of you.
“Mr. Cox. An appropriate name for such a dick,” Sawyer thought to herself, blood boiling as she exited Room 513.
The patient being cared for inside could easily steal the title of “Biggest PITA” away from the infamous Nigel Platt. And only making matters worse, her consultation had been interrupted multiple times by a cocky intern eager to show off.
Once the door closed behind her, she spun on Dr. Perkins.
“How many times have we told you not to interrupt when your resident or attending is speaking with a patient? If you do that again, I’ll make sure you are written up.”
Sawyer strode to the nearby nurses’ station to update Mr. Cox’s chart. The obstinate intern followed.
“How am I supposed to learn anything around here if I’m not allowed to ask questions?” he argued.
“You start by shutting the hell up and listening. Had you done that in the first place, we wouldn’t be standing here having this conversation. If you were really trying to understand something back there, you would have directed your questions to me. Instead, you attempted to conduct a medical history interview on an extremely agitated patient minutes before he went to surgery,” she scolded.
“This is–”
Her patience was wearing thin, and Sawyer spoke over him. “Jaaackie, get Dr. Know-It-All away from me before I go all Ramsey on his ass,” she demanded through gritted teeth.
Having caught the exchange's tail end, Jackie looked up from her tablet.
“I think you just did,” she answered, “and Perkins, the patient in 506, needs a new catheter. Now.”
“But that’s not even my pati-” he complained.
With one harsh look from the Chief Resident, Dr. Perkins finally tucked his tail between his legs and sulked down the hall.
"You're breathing fire today," Jackie quipped as she rounded the desk to leave.
Sawyer ignored her and continued typing furiously on her tablet.
Jackie and Bryce traded places down the hall, getting on and off the elevator.
“Hey, have you seen Brooks? I mean Ramsey. Brooks-Ramsey?” Bryce guessed, unsure what to call his friend since she and Ethan surprised everyone by eloping a couple weeks ago.
Jackie pointed in the direction of the nurses’ desk. “I hope you brought snacks. She’s in a mood again,” she warned as the steel doors closed between them.
A minute later, Bryce slunk next to Sawyer, bumping shoulders to get her attention.
“Finally. What took you so long?” Sawyer rebuked, shoving the tablet towards him. “Here, take this guy away. And while you have his head open, feel free to poke the part of his brain that disables his speech.”
“Well, aren’t you a pocketful of sunshine this morning,” he teased.
“After a few minutes with this asshole and you’ll understand why,” she said, storming off.
“Annnd, Dr. Ramsey, it is,” he decided.
🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸
Shortly thereafter, Sawyer sat in the diagnostics office and stewed silently as the team meeting ran over schedule. Her annoyance grew more intense with each passing minute as Ethan and Harper debated, and Tobias egged them on for his own amusement. No longer able to take it, she interrupted.
“Do you need me? Because, if not, I have patients who do.”
Her three colleagues snapped their heads in her direction, surprised by the bite in her tone. With raised eyebrows, she looked at the team leader and challenged him to respond.
Ethan cleared his throat. “Uh, let’s see how the labs come back and continue this discussion when we have more information.”
Harper and Tobias quickly got out of Dodge as Sawyer stacked her notes and gathered her things. When she stood to follow, Ethan reached for her hand and held her back.
“Hey, what’s wrong? What’s got you so wound up?”
She exhaled deeply, his touch instantly calming her.
“I’m sorry.” Frustrated tears welled in her witch-green eyes. “I'm super cranky. These third-trimester hormones are no joke. My mood the last few days has been…”
A single teardrop fell down her cheek.
“Come here,” he urged, pulling her into his lap. “It’s been, what?”
“It’s either been hangry or hornery or both,” she pouted and sagged her shoulders.
Cracking a smile at her dramatics, “I know what ‘hangry’ is, but ‘hornery?’”
“Horny and ornery.”
With a shake of his head, Ethan caressed her swollen belly. “So, what I hear you saying is you’re irritable because you're either hungry or horny…”
“Right now, it’s both,” she interjected, her fingers seductively dancing up his chest.
“And the cure for this condition is to either feed you or fuck you?”
“Look, I’m not saying food and sex would solve all my problems, but it would sure help me calm the hell down,” she admitted with a coquettish grin.
“Well, as much as I’d like to help you satisfy your hunger pains, all I can offer right now is this.”
Ethan reached for the bowl of Halloween candy on the conference table.
“Boo,” she scowled playfully. Sawyer stood and sifted through the options, “I’ll take the candy corn off your hands and leave the chocolates for you. I know they’re your favorite.”
“Actually, I like candy corn,” he said, ripping a small package open with his teeth and pouring them all into his mouth.
“Seriously?” she asked, surprised.
“My dad loves them. We always had a bowl out during the season. I used to push them up on my canines when I was a kid and pretend I was Dracula.”
“Aw, cute. Well, if that’s true, then I’ll take some of these too,” she reached back into the bowl and stuffed her pockets. “Supposedly, chocolate is a good substitute for sex. Feed two birds with one scone.”
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A couple hours later, Sawyer was at the lab demanding the results for one of her patients.
“What do you mean it will be another four to six hours? I ordered these tests yesterday!”
Her raised voice began to draw the attention of others, including her indirect supervisor. Ethan was just finishing a consultation with the hospital’s lead hematologist when he heard the uproar.
The lab assistant snapped back. “Look, lady, we’re doing the best we can. The tech will run the test when he returns from lunch.”
“Lady?! Do you see this badge? That’s Dr. Brooks to you.”
Sawyer spewed red-hot anger as she spun on her heels. From several feet away, Ethan could practically feel the heat radiating from her. Her neck and cheeks were crimsoned, and her fists clenched at her sides.
“That’s enough,” he admonished, taking Sawyer by the wrist and swiftly pulling her into a familiar, dark supply closet.
Ethan loomed over her as he backed her into a corner.
“I know… I’m sorry,” she apologized. Sad cat-like eyes pleading for forgiveness.
“This kind of stress isn’t good for you or the baby,” he advised. “This is serious, Sawyer. You leave me no choice but to help you calm down.” The corner of his mouth began to turn up in a sly grin as he ran his hand over her hair.
“Oh, thank god,” she sighed, crashing into his lips.
“We’ll…have to be…quick…and quiet,” he murmured between desperate kisses.
As Sawyer slipped out of her shoes, Ethan lent a hand, sliding her pants and underwear to the ground. As she stepped out of them, Ethan unzipped his pants and pushed them down to expose his rising need. Their white lab coats provided a curtain of privacy if anyone walked in on them.
Lifting her up around his waist, Sawyer tried to wrap her legs around him. With several extra inches around her midsection, she had a hard time locking her swollen ankles behind him and finding a comfortable position.
“Ethan, my belly. This isn’t working,” she squirmed under his hold.
Determined to make this work despite the cramped space, Sawyer slid down. She shrugged off her lab coat, turned her back to him, and placed her hands on the wall.
Ethan took the hint immediately. His hands roamed under her shirt, starting at her sore back. His thumbs applied light pressure as he worked down her spine, earning a few grateful groans. He also spent a few seconds massaging her ass, finishing with a gentle squeeze.
Closing the small gap between them, Ethan reached around and tenderly appreciated her baby bump. Then, slithering his fingers into the cups of her bra, he ghosted around her sensitive nipples.
Sawyer felt his breath next to her ear and turned her head to meet him in a passionate kiss, his erection poking and teasing her backside.
Navigating in the dark, Ethan leaned back to align himself with her entrance. “God, Sawyer,” he gasped, easily gliding between her slick folds. “You are so ready for me.”
She looked over her shoulder with a smile and jokingly reminded him of her libidinous mood swings. “What’d I tell you? Me so horny.”
With an amused shake of his head, he pulled back gently and then began to pump his hips. Slow and soft at first.
“Mmmmm, that feels so good, babe,” Sawyer mewled.
Ethan picked up the pace. He pushed harder and deeper but was careful not to get too rough with his pregnant wife or her precious cargo.
“Ohhhh,” she let slip a little too loud.
“Shhhh, baby,” he breathed heavily, working up a sweat.
As her legs began to tremble, Sawyer kept her hands firmly braced against the wall for support.
“I’m close… cover… my mouth,” she panted.
With a hand on her hip to hold her close and steady, Ethan reached around with his other and gently covered her mouth. He leaned in and pressed his chest against her back, resting his chin in the crook of her neck. “Let go, beautiful,” he mumbled against the feel of her rapid pulse.
After a couple deep pumps, Sawyer’s whole body shuddered. She moaned her satisfaction into Ethan’s hand. The vibrations pulsing through her body and the warm breath against his palm provoked his own release. Clamping his mouth onto her neck, he muted himself.
The euphoria made her forget all her aches and pains. So, when Sawyer tightened her muscles around Ethan’s still bursting length, it hardly registered when he bit down hard on her throat.
They didn't spend much time basking in the afterglow to avoid getting caught. Ethan gave his wife a loving kiss, and when he was certain she could stand unsupported, he pulled up his pants and helped Sawyer step into hers.
With a quick peek into the hallway, Sawyer checked to see if the coast was clear. “Hold on… it’s Wen,” she whispered, holding up a hand to halt him.
When Dr. Wen disappeared around a corner, they exited the supply closet.
“Do you think she heard us?”
“If she did, I’m sure she assumed it was only one of the ghosts that she believes haunts these halls,” Ethan chuckled. “The more important question is, are you feeling better?”
“Much better, thank you.”
“Well, let’s make doubly sure and head up to the cafeteria for some lunch.”
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Later that night, at home and in the shower, Ethan pushed wet hair away from Sawyer's neck and discovered the frightful bruising.
“Oh, Soe, I’m sorry,” he expressed, carefully skimming his fingers over the bite mark. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Sawyer touched the tender spot and moved around him to see her reflection in his shaving mirror.
“Oh my gosh!” she laughed as she traced her fingers over the imprints of his teeth. “I married a freakin’ vampire!”
“I’m sorry. But, hey,” he innocently smiled back in the mirror, “...only a vampire can love you forever.”
He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face into her neck. “Mwahahaha,” he snarled at her ear before placing a delicate, healing kiss on the love bite.
🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸
The next day, the newlyweds arrived at work hand in hand and walked toward the attendings’ locker room. Pausing just outside the door, Sawyer turned to face her husband.
“Hey, just a reminder that I volunteered to help in the clinic this morning. Carrick said he would do rounds for me.”
“I remembered,” Ethan said, bending down to give Sawyer a quick but loving kiss on the lips. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. I’ll see you later,” she returned, reluctantly releasing his hand.
Stepping into the locker room, she spotted a familiar face. Well, sort of.
“Whoa, that looks soooo good, Elijah. Gross, but so realistic,” Sawyer awed.
“Thanks! Those in the research department agreed to dress up like lab experiments gone wrong.”
“Well, mission accomplished. And, Happy Halloween, by the way. I know it’s your favorite day of the year.”
As Elijah excitedly talked about his zombie character - which, of course, was inspired by a new John Carpenter video game - Sawyer tugged on her white coat and checked her reflection in the mirror.
The bruising on her neck was much more prominent the day after and under the hospital's harsh fluorescent lighting. She tried to adjust her hair and fix the collar of her jacket, but it was no use. She dug through her bag, searching for her makeup case, quickly realizing she had left it at home.
“Shit,” she thought to herself.
“Aren’t you dressing up this year?”
Elijah’s question brought her back to the conversation, and an idea popped into her head.
“About that… do you have any more fake blood?”
“Yeah, there’s a tube in my locker. Help yourself,” he offered on his way out.
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Down in the free clinic, Sawyer examined a very inquisitive eight-year-old who noticed the bite mark and the two drips of dried blood on her neck.
“Say ‘ahhhh!’” she instructed, using a tongue depressor to check the back of his throat. “Good, no swelling back there.”
“Doctor! Did you get bit by a vampire?”
“I’m afraid I did,” she admitted, putting on a bit of an act.
“Was it Dracula?”
“That’s still up for debate,” she laughed to herself, picturing little boy Ethan with candy corn fangs.
“Did it hurt?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Did he suck your blood?”
“Justin, for goodness sake,” his mother chided and rolled her eyes.
“It’s fine,” Sawyer waved her off.
“Did he make you into a vampire too?”
“No,” turning her back to the young patient and facing his mother, she muttered, “...he just got me pregnant.” The patient’s mother cackled out loud.
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That afternoon, Sawyer was on the fifth floor to check on a patient when she spotted Ethan stepping into the hallway with Esme and her intern. When they were safely out of the patient’s earshot, he wheeled around on the intern and launched into a stern, familiar lecture.
“...It doesn’t matter that you’re still learning… Whether this man lives or dies is on you… There is no room for mistakes…”
When he finished his tirade, Ethan marched to the nurses’ station and began tapping away on an iPad.
“Don’t sweat him. He’s all bark and no bite. Isn’t that right, Dr. Brooks?” Esme asked as Sawyer approached the scene.
Mrs. Ramsey shook her head vehemently. “Oh, no,” she spoke loud enough for Ethan to hear, “he bites alright.” When he looked up with a raised eyebrow, she winked and kept walking.
A couple minutes later, Ethan’s phone pinged with a text notification.
Book: Open Heart, Post-Series
Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks)
Rating: Teen
Warning: Language; Pregnancy; Sexual Situation
Category: Fluff; Halloween
Word count: 2.2K
Summary: Sawyer is in a bad mood and Ethan attempts to call her down.
Prompts:
🫦From Anon: Can I get a fic with Ethan giving MC a love bite or hickey?
☀️From @peonierose: Ethan & Sawyer + “sunshine”
🍬From @jerzwriter: "Actually, I like candy corn!"
Events:
🎃For @choicesoctober event: Costume / Halloween / Vampire / Meme
🥰For @choicesprompts Flufftober 2023 event: I want to take care of you.
A/N: The original🔥spicy🔥version of this fic, can be found here.
“Mr. Cox. An appropriate name for such a dick,” Sawyer thought to herself, blood boiling as she exited Room 513.
The patient being cared for inside could easily steal the title of “Biggest PITA” away from the infamous Nigel Platt. And only making matters worse, her consultation had been interrupted multiple times by a cocky intern eager to show off.
Once the door closed behind her, she spun on Dr. Perkins.
“How many times have we told you not to interrupt when your resident or attending is speaking with a patient? If you do that again, I’ll make sure you are written up.”
Sawyer strode to the nearby nurses’ station to update Mr. Cox’s chart. The obstinate intern followed.
“How am I supposed to learn anything around here if I’m not allowed to ask questions?” he argued.
“You start by shutting the hell up and listening. Had you done that in the first place, we wouldn’t be standing here having this conversation. If you were really trying to understand something back there, you would have directed your questions to me. Instead, you attempted to conduct a medical history interview on an extremely agitated patient minutes before he went to surgery,” she scolded.
“This is–”
Her patience was wearing thin, and Sawyer spoke over him. “Jaaackie, get Dr. Know-It-All away from me before I go all Ramsey on his ass,” she demanded through gritted teeth.
Having caught the exchange's tail end, Jackie looked up from her tablet.
“I think you just did,” she answered, “and Perkins, the patient in 506, needs a new catheter. Now.”
“But that’s not even my pati-” he complained.
With one harsh look from the Chief Resident, Dr. Perkins finally tucked his tail between his legs and sulked down the hall.
"You're breathing fire today," Jackie quipped as she rounded the desk to leave.
Sawyer ignored her and continued typing furiously on her tablet.
Jackie and Bryce traded places down the hall, getting on and off the elevator.
“Hey, have you seen Brooks? I mean Ramsey. Brooks-Ramsey?” Bryce guessed, unsure what to call his friend since she and Ethan surprised everyone by eloping a couple weeks ago.
Jackie pointed in the direction of the nurses’ desk. “I hope you brought snacks. She’s in a mood again,” she warned as the steel doors closed between them.
A minute later, Bryce slunk next to Sawyer, bumping shoulders to get her attention.
“Finally. What took you so long?” Sawyer rebuked, shoving the tablet towards him. “Here, take this guy away. And while you have his head open, feel free to poke the part of his brain that disables his speech.”
“Well, aren’t you a pocketful of sunshine this morning,” he teased.
“After a few minutes with this asshole and you’ll understand why,” she said, storming off.
“Annnd, Dr. Ramsey, it is,” he decided.
🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸
Shortly thereafter, Sawyer sat in the diagnostics office and stewed silently as the team meeting ran over schedule. Her annoyance grew more intense with each passing minute as Ethan and Harper debated, and Tobias egged them on for his own amusement. No longer able to take it, she interrupted.
“Do you need me? Because, if not, I have patients who do.”
Her three colleagues snapped their heads in her direction, surprised by the bite in her tone. With raised eyebrows, she looked at the team leader and challenged him to respond.
Ethan cleared his throat. “Uh, let’s see how the labs come back and continue this discussion when we have more information.”
Harper and Tobias quickly got out of Dodge as Sawyer stacked her notes and gathered her things. When she stood to follow, Ethan reached for her hand and held her back.
“Hey, what’s wrong? What’s got you so wound up?”
She exhaled deeply, his touch instantly calming her.
“I’m sorry.” Frustrated tears welled in her witch-green eyes. “I'm super cranky. These third-trimester hormones are no joke. My mood the last few days has been…”
A single teardrop fell down her cheek.
“Come here,” he urged, pulling her into his lap. “It’s been, what?”
“It’s either been hangry or hornery or both,” she pouted and sagged her shoulders.
Cracking a smile at her dramatics, “I know what ‘hangry’ is, but ‘hornery?’”
“Horny and ornery.”
With a shake of his head, Ethan caressed her swollen belly. “So, what I hear you saying is you’re irritable because you're either hungry or horny…”
“Right now, it’s both,” she interjected, her fingers seductively dancing up his chest.
“And the cure for this condition is to either feed you or have my way with you?”
“Look, I’m not saying food and sex would solve all my problems, but it would sure help me calm the hell down,” she admitted with a coquettish grin.
“Well, as much as I’d like to help you satisfy your hunger pains, all I can offer right now is this.”
Ethan reached for the bowl of Halloween candy on the conference table.
“Boo,” she scowled playfully. Sawyer stood and sifted through the options, “I’ll take the candy corn off your hands and leave the chocolates for you. I know they’re your favorite.”
“Actually, I like candy corn,” he said, ripping a small package open with his teeth and pouring them all into his mouth.
“Seriously?” she asked, surprised.
“My dad loves them. We always had a bowl out during the season. I used to push them up on my canines when I was a kid and pretend I was Dracula.”
“Aw, cute. Well, if that’s true, then I’ll take some of these too,” she reached back into the bowl and stuffed her pockets. “Supposedly, chocolate is a good substitute for sex. Feed two birds with one scone.”
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A couple hours later, Sawyer was at the lab demanding the results for one of her patients.
“What do you mean it will be another four to six hours? I ordered these tests yesterday!”
Her raised voice began to draw the attention of others, including her indirect supervisor. Ethan was just finishing a consultation with the hospital’s lead hematologist when he heard the uproar.
The lab assistant snapped back. “Look, lady, we’re doing the best we can. The tech will run the test when he returns from lunch.”
“Lady?! Do you see this badge? That’s Dr. Brooks to you.”
Sawyer spewed red-hot anger as she spun on her heels. From several feet away, Ethan could practically feel the heat radiating from her. Her neck and cheeks were crimsoned, and her fists clenched at her sides.
“That’s enough,” he admonished, taking Sawyer by the wrist and swiftly pulling her into a familiar, dark supply closet.
Ethan loomed over her as he backed her into a corner.
“I know… I’m sorry,” she apologized. Sad cat-like eyes pleading for forgiveness.
“This kind of stress isn’t good for you or the baby,” he advised. “This is serious, Sawyer. You leave me no choice but to help you calm down.” The corner of his mouth began to turn up in a sly grin as he ran his hand over her hair.
“Oh, thank god,” she sighed, crashing into his lips.
“We’ll… have to be… quick… and quiet,” he murmured between desperate kisses.
Ethan used his hands and lips for several minutes to lavish his new bride. As their activities became more frenzied, more intimate, Sawyer couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips.
“Ohhhh!”
“Shhhh, baby,” he breathed into her ear.
“I’m close… cover… my mouth,” she panted as she began to tremble.
Sawyer’s whole body shuddered, and she moaned her satisfaction into Ethan’s hand. The sensations provoked his own release, and to keep himself quiet, he clamped his mouth down on Sawyer’s neck. Hard.
They didn't spend much time basking in the afterglow to avoid getting caught. After a loving kiss from her husband, Sawyer peeked into the hallway to see if the coast was clear.
“Hold on… it’s Wen,” she whispered, holding up a hand to halt him.
When Dr. Wen disappeared around a corner, they exited the supply closet.
“Do you think she heard us?”
“If she did, I’m sure she assumed it was only one of the ghosts that she believes haunts these halls,” Ethan chuckled. “The more important question is, are you feeling better?”
“Much better, thank you.”
“Well, let’s make doubly sure and head up to the cafeteria for some lunch.”
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Later that night, at home and in the shower, Ethan pushed wet hair away from Sawyer's neck and discovered the frightful bruising.
“Oh, Soe, I’m sorry,” he expressed, carefully skimming his fingers over the bite mark. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Sawyer touched the tender spot and moved around him to see her reflection in his shaving mirror.
“Oh my gosh!” she laughed as she traced her fingers over the imprints of his teeth. “I married a freakin’ vampire!”
“I’m sorry. But, hey,” he innocently smiled back in the mirror, “...only a vampire can love you forever.”
He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face into her neck. “Mwahahaha,” he snarled at her ear before placing a delicate, healing kiss on the love bite.
🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸
The next day, the newlyweds arrived at work hand in hand and walked toward the attendings’ locker room. Pausing just outside the door, Sawyer turned to face her husband.
“Hey, just a reminder that I volunteered to help in the clinic this morning. Carrick said he would do rounds for me.”
“I remembered,” Ethan said, bending down to give Sawyer a quick but loving kiss on the lips. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. I’ll see you later,” she returned, reluctantly releasing his hand.
Stepping into the locker room, she spotted a familiar face. Well, sort of.
“Whoa, that looks soooo good, Elijah. Gross, but so realistic,” Sawyer awed.
“Thanks! Those of us in the research department agreed to dress up like lab experiments gone wrong.”
“Well, mission accomplished. And, Happy Halloween, by the way. I know it’s your favorite day of the year.”
As Elijah excitedly talked about his zombie character - which, of course, was inspired by a new John Carpenter video game - Sawyer tugged on her white coat and checked her reflection in the mirror.
The bruising on her neck was much more prominent the day after and under the hospital's harsh fluorescent lighting. She tried to adjust her hair and fix the collar of her jacket, but it was no use. She dug through her bag, searching for her makeup case, quickly realizing she had left it at home.
“Shit,” she thought to herself.
“Aren’t you dressing up this year?”
Elijah’s question brought her back to the conversation, and an idea popped into her head.
“About that… do you have any more fake blood?”
“Yeah, there’s a tube in my locker. Help yourself,” he offered on his way out.
🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸
Down in the free clinic, Sawyer examined a very inquisitive eight-year-old who noticed the bite mark and the two drips of dried blood on her neck.
“Say ‘ahhhh!’” she instructed, using a tongue depressor to check the back of his throat. “Good, no swelling back there.”
“Doctor! Did you get bit by a vampire?”
“I’m afraid I did,” she admitted, putting on a bit of an act.
“Was it Dracula?”
“That’s still up for debate,” she laughed to herself, picturing little boy Ethan with candy corn fangs.
“Did it hurt?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Did he suck your blood?”
“Justin, for goodness sake,” his mother chided and rolled her eyes.
“It’s fine,” Sawyer waved her off.
“Did he make you into a vampire too?”
“No,” turning her back to the young patient and facing his mother, she muttered, “...he just got me pregnant.” The patient’s mother cackled out loud.
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That afternoon, Sawyer was on the fifth floor to check on a patient when she spotted Ethan stepping into the hallway with Esme and her intern. When they were safely out of the patient’s earshot, he wheeled around on the intern and launched into a stern, familiar lecture.
“...It doesn’t matter that you’re still learning… Whether this man lives or dies is on you… There is no room for mistakes…”
When he finished his tirade, Ethan marched to the nurses’ station and began tapping away on an iPad.
“Don’t sweat him. He’s all bark and no bite. Isn’t that right, Dr. Brooks?” Esme asked as Sawyer approached the scene.
Mrs. Ramsey shook her head vehemently. “Oh, no,” she spoke loud enough for Ethan to hear, “he bites alright.” When he looked up with a raised eyebrow, she winked and kept walking.
A couple minutes later, Ethan’s phone pinged with a text notification.
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