#and his anxiety about not being good enough comes from SOMEWHERE

[remyfire]

I have had the most spectacular time writing a really confident Beej in STAE, but let me tell you, getting to make him melt into pure babbling babygirl mode is giving me life right now

[loverafey]

dirty ! frat boy!rafe x new girl!reader

ꕀ warnings - smut, pure FILTH i got carried away and i am not ashamed of it, rafe's a little mean but like in a playful way, reader's described to have some anxiety, drunk safe, heavy emphasis on that, fingering, denied orgasm, riding. wc - 2.3k

You had just recently moved to Outer Banks, not sure if this stay would be long or not. Your father’s business required you and your family to move around a lot, and this time it was your father sealing some deal with the Camerons, if your memory served you correctly.

It was quite nice around here — spending evenings under the pleasant breeze of the sea, strolling around and eating various snacks — you even made a new friend. Sarah, and she was the one who invited you over to the party being hosted at Tannyhill today. Something something about ‘the party being necessary for you in order to properly enjoy this place’, in sarah’s words.

Which is how you found yourself here, awkwardly standing near a wall with a drink in your hand, looking around. You looked lost if you didn’t know any better, everyone already having someone to hang out with here. loud music was blaring inside this house, some people rushing outside to jump into the pool. It was all overwhelming.

Sarah had left you temporarily because her boyfriend — John B? — was dragging her somewhere. You were quick to assure her once she gave you an apologetic look, supposing that you'd handle yourself here alone. Though now after a good amount of time having passed, you were starting to regret your decisions, wanting to do nothing but go home, your hand unconsciously squeezing the empty plastic cup in your hand tight, causing its form to wrinkle up.

“Woah, you’re killing that guy.”

A voice from behind you caused you to flinch, your head instantly turning around. You recognised him, Rafe, Sarah’s older brother. You hadn’t properly gotten the chance to talk to him yet, but you were almost sure that he was the one doing the deal with your father.

“Oh, hello…” You trailed off, feeling the heat crawling onto your face due the sudden rush of embarrassment flooding within you. You must have been looking like some loser, and that thought alone made your stomach churn uncomfortably.

“You’re Sarah's new friend, yeah?” He leaned against the wall alongside you, eyes curiously assessing your features, a lazy grin soon appearing on his lips. Fingers gently drummed right above your head on the wall, the proximity making you look away rather shyly, not knowing why your confidence had suddenly drained away. “Saw you looking around all confused.” He continued, sneakily tugging the wrinkled plastic cup away from your grasp, tossing it into the bin nearby.

It was kind of a norm for you at this point to become like this, your hands growing all clammy and your eyes averting to all places except the person you were talking to. It had happened with Sarah too, though you were much more open to her now for some reason. She was just so comfortable to be around with, whereas her brother seemed oddly intimidating. And hot.

“Yeah… don’t really know anyone here.” You shrugged your shoulders, turning over to properly look at him. He was wearing some cap over his head, his cheeks somewhat flushed under the dim light — you could almost swear that he was at least a little bit drunk — his lips parted. Fuck, he looked good.

“Clearly. Too shy to talk, huh?“ He snickered under his breath, sounding subtly mean though tried to brush it off. “Come with me, wanna have a drink?”

You were quick to nod, pursing your lips shut, not wanting to be looked at as if you really were all that meek and closed off.

Rafe took you to a more secluded area with little to no people around, plopping down onto the couch as he poured you a drink. You contemplated over your choices for a second — were you really going to trust someone you had just met? But again, he was your friend’s brother, and seemed nice enough. “Here you go. s’gonna help you loosen up.” He nudged you to sit beside him, draping an arm behind you over the couch as you grabbed the drink from him, taking a tentative sip. Nothing too strong, thankfully.

But there was an undeniable mischievous glint flickering in his eyes, hard to miss as he handed you one more cup, and then another.

It was difficult to remember how many drinks you’ve had, but you were drunk, and so was Rafe, his hands all the more clingy and eager to grab onto you as he dragged you upstairs, your legs feeling wobbly with no resistance at all to his movements.

“Is this your room?” you slurred out as he took you into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. You had neither energy nor balance to stand, clumsily falling down onto his bed as he hummed, pulling you closer so he could kiss you.

You weren’t one to do this, drunken sex and all, but somehow he was the exception. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t enjoy the way his fingers slipped underneath your shirt to touch the soft skin of your waist, pulling you greedily close, his mouth kissing you fervently. It was as if he was going to swallow you up. His cap was long gone, replaced by your fingernails raking through his scalp, tasting the alcohol on each other's mouth.

“Fuck… been staring at you all night, pretty girl.” He chuckled slowly, pulling away from the kiss to place hot, open mouthed kisses all the way from your jaw down to your collar. “All new and confused. As if waiting just f’me to come and save ya.”

“You do this often, huh? Sleeping with anyone you meet at a party?” He mocked you in a hoarse voice, words that were meant to come off as cruel instead turning you on more and more. You honestly shook your head, hands moving down to hold onto his arms, his sleeves clearly a little bit tight.

“N-No, just you.” You stuttered through the little whimpers his suctions on your neck were coaxing out, your body squirming underneath his as he gently pushed you onto your back, your head landing against the pillow.

“Makes me very special then.” His hands moved over to free you off from the restraints of your clothes that had begun feeling a little bit too overbearing and hot, the air in his bedroom feeling humid. One hand started to travel down your stomach, resting just a shy away from the waistband of your pants, looking at you for approval.

You nodded, your body feeling all fuzzy in a very nice way, probably due to the alcohol, feeling his fingers slip underneath and finding your panties. “Goodness, are you wet?” He snarked, leaning down to gently nibble on your earlobe as his fingers begin to rub over your clit through your panties, smearing the wetness everywhere, further dampening the cloth.

Your hips stuttered at the sudden jolt of pleasure, eagerly trying to grind against his hands as your grasp tightened around his arms. His touch sure as hell was gentle for someone who was getting off from making you feel all embarrassed.

“Feels good-!” Your voice came out as a whine, eyes squeezing shut. His other hand begun to squeeze your tits, moving from one to another, thumb playing with your taut nipple. It all felt too much in the best way possible.

“I know, baby, I know.” He spoke in a sickeningly sweet tone, cock straining against his pants no matter how much he tried to ignore it. His fingers pushed your panties aside and slipped right into your pussy, nicely warm and wet, your walls clenching tightly at the sudden intrusion of his first and middle fingers as he thrusted them in and out, using the top of your panties to rub against your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… gonna cu-” Your words died down on your tongue as he quickly pulled his fingers away, causing you to let out a distressed cry at the sudden lose of the pleasure that was building up. “Why?” you sniffled in confused, frustrated tears building up in your eyes.

“Not too quick, cutie.” His chuckle was irritating, his soaked fingers pushing into your quivering mouth. Maybe you would’ve been grossed out if you weren’t drunk, or maybe not, not that you cared at this moment. Your eyes fluttered shut as you sucked on his fingers, tasting yourself. “So obedient. Like a pup.” He groaned, sounding pleased. His brows rose as he felt your hands clawing at his shirt, trying to take it off in a rather desperate manner. Of course he couldn’t deny such a sweet request, taking it off in one go, letting you marvel over his nicely fit torso. The gym was worth it, worth seeing your lips parting in awe.

“Gonna take my pants off too?” He smirked knowingly, your hands hesitating a bit. Even if the alcohol had loosened you up, there was still a part of you too scared to initiate things. His hand came to firmly grab yours and place it on the tent formed in his pants, hearing your breath hitch. “See, all ‘cause of you, baby.”

You nodded, your throat growing dry as you began to unbuckle his pants. He kneeled up a bit to kick it off alongside his boxers, urging you to take off your pants too which were still messily on. “Shit…” He drawled out, hands gripping you by your hips and pulling you on top of him as he sat against the headboard of his bed. “Get on top of me.” He patted the curve of your ass to urge you on.

Your movements were clumsy, hands shakily grabbing hold of his shoulders as you raised your hips, trying to position yourself on top of his hardened cock as you sunk in, earning a moan from both of you. His hold on your hips tightened, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he tried his best to not slam fully into you.

“C’mon, if you ride me good, maybe i’ll let you cum.” He leaned his head forward so he could press soft kisses on your shoulder, not minding the way your fingernails were digging and scratching onto his shoulders unconsciously as you started to ride his cock, squeezing around the girth. It was hitting all the right places within you, places your fingers struggled to reach. Fuck, how were you ever supposed to move on from this?

“Rafe…!” You moaned out, feeling all heated up one of his hands proceeded to slide in between your legs to rub your throbbing clit, bringing you closer to your edge once again. You whimpered in delight, hearing the way he groaned in your ear, his own hips beginning to thrust up rather eagerly. He definitely was not the patient type.

One arm strongly held you by your waist and snuggled against him while the other was in between your bodies. “Wish you had came here sooner… but better late then never, or whatever it is that they say, right?” He muffled out against the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as his cock continued to rammed upwards into you, his stomach tightening at the way you squeezed around him just perfectly.

His thrusts didn’t cease at all, and you begin feeling the knots forming in your stomach one more time. “T-Think I’m gonna cum…” You breathed out shakily, eyes rolling back, and this time he didn’t stop, grunting in response as he continued to rub his fingers against your clit messily. soon you felt your body convulsing in pleasure, your orgasm overtaking you as you squirmed on his cock, fingers unintentionally digging into the blades of his shoulders tightly.

It was impossible not to cum at the way your cunt squeezed around him so tightly at your own orgasm, a little ‘fuck’ leaving his lips as he hastily leaned backwards to slip his cock out of your quivering hole, causing it to clench around nothing as his hand reached down to give his cock a few little strokes, groaning in pleasure when hot strings of his cum shot out, spraying over your stomach.

You panted heavily, your head feeling light and eyes struggling to stay open, your skin covered in a sheen of sweat similar to his, your hair messy. “O-Oh my…” Your voice came out as a trembling giggle, feeling his hands pulling you near him again, your body feeling all sticky. But you had no time to think about all that, exhaustion overtaking you just as quick.

You woke up with a severe headache, letting out a pained noise once your eyes shot open, squinting at the sunlight seeping in through the blinds. This was not your room, your head looking around in confusion as you sat up on the bed, your eyes landing on him.

Rafe laid beside you, cheek squished against the pillow as he slept soundly. Blood rushed onto your cheeks as blurry memories of last nighy begin rushing in, though you were most surprised at the fact that he had not gotten up before you and left you all alone.

You looked down, finding yourself clean and clothed in some oversized shirt that definitely didn’t belong to you. Whatever it smelled good, making your heart flutter.

“G’morning…” a voice yawned from beside you, rough with sleep. You looked over at Rafe as he stirred and rubbed his eyes, still laying down, a cheeky grin lazily coming on his lips as he extended his arm to pull you back.

“Not gonna let you get out so fast, baby.”

[hitomisuzuya]

Secret admirer+neighbour reader that allows Scara to stay over in her room whenever shit gets rowdy at his home for whatever reason. She leaves letters of encouragement in his locker and snacks and stuff. He found it stupid at first but gave up 'reluctantly'.

But like, pls, he knows it's her. The way she looks at him, hopefully, every time he scowls a certain way, he gets a more expensive snack (within the budget of a little middle-class lady, of course), and he starts liking her a bit too...

And anyway, they get into a cute little confrontation when she cares about him a little too much, with a bit too much honesty with the cutest outfit and he's turned on and- you get the idea.

Please, praise kink. Praise my hubby🥺🥺 maybe a bit of degrading from him.

scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. porn with some plot. fluff. degradation. praise for scara. cunnilingus. for narrative purposes, college has lockers for people who live off campus.

i grinned when i read this ask. legit scaramouche would fall in love kicking and screaming reluctantly about it the whole time🤣 this is a little long.

if scaramouche had it his way, he would've chosen to live on campus at the dorms. but no, being so close to the college made his bitch mother suggest he might be more comfortable just living at home. incidentally, it was over just that issue that you meant scaramouche officially for the first time.

you swore he slammed the door loud enough to rattle to every window of his house. and yours. naturally, it startled you, being out on the porch looking at the orange and purple painted clouds of the sunset. you'd seen him around campus before, but social anxiety often came into play. and he sort of treated you like a nuisance when you tried to talk to him.

"you okay?" you asked, giving him a soft look of concern.

"huh? do you need something?" scaramouche snapped, glaring at you in a way that would've made anyone instantly fuck off.

anyone wasn't you, though. "no, it just sounds like you were fighting with someone," you replied, his glare making your cheeks flush.

"yeah, bitch mother," it was like he didn't want to dedicate the extra few seconds of time to string together a longer sentence to mention her in.

"you can come hang out with me in my room for awhile until things cool down. no one is home right now but me," you said shyly, playing with your hair in an annoying way he absolutely couldn't miss.

"uh, sure. yeah whatever, gimme a few minutes," scaramouche grumbled, turning to go back inside the house. back inside to tell his mother to fuck off one more time. he was automatically suspicious. why were you offering? what did you stand to gain from it?

he thought about these questions while he unplugged (ripped the cords out of the outlet) his xbox, and slammed the door again. threw the door to your house open, and sort of stomped up the stairs. he promptly hooked his xbox up to your tv like he was automatically entitled to it.

but you didn't mind. scaramouche always made you feel weak in the knees. you even got him to tell you what he wanted for dinner so you could make it for him.

this became almost something of a daily occurrence. an occurrence that scaramouche was startled to find how comfortable he was becoming with.

you sure are a strange one. you even sat and watched him play video games late into the night, monopolizing your tv and not really giving a shit if there was something you wanted to watch. you never said a thing if there was. dvrs exist, after all. you would cheer him on and praise him when he was playing good. you looked stuff up on your phone to help him if he got stuck on a part somewhere.

you would remind him about tests tomorrow. he told you whatever and ended up not studying. he didn't really need to honestly. thing is, though, you started leaving notes of encouragement tucked into his folders or notebooks. or left them in his locker with some sort of disgusting sweet treat. "for you to enjoy now or later. it's up to you. good luck today."

he thought it was incredibly stupid. what could you possibly gain from this nonsense? "i don't like sweets," he said, tossing a baggie of oreos on your desk. "disgusting. absolutely no thanks."

your posture stiffened a little, like you'd just been caught red handed doing something secretive. in a way, you had been. "wh-what are you talking about?" you stammered shyly, "who left you those?" you paused for a moment, twisting lock of hair around your index finger. "incidentally, what would you want for something like that?"

scaramouche almost snorted. god, you are so transparent. he knew it was you, but you are still trying to play it off like it wasn't, fidgeting nervously with your fingers. it was disgustingly adorable so he let you carry on with it in his own way. stop it.

"salted rice balls with sea weed in the middle. i like those, not the toxic waste that is chocolate. or rather horse shit," he replied, rolling his eyes.

sure enough, a few days later, salted white rice balls with seaweed in the middle appeared in his locker the next morning. "please, eat these. sorry about before. you try so hard and deserve a good treat."

fuck, fuck, fuck!

he was starting to tuck your notes into his pockets to keep with him throughout the day. some of the snacks you make him looked expensive. and you were the type to buy the ingredients and hand make them yourself. you had to have been getting up super early in the morning to make them or staying up late the night before.

and every time he called you out on it, you shyly played it off. even joking with him about him having a secret admirer, though he swore you looked a little sad at the thought of someone else liking him like you weren't talking about yourself.

even worse, scaramouche started looking at you and thinking; shit, she looks really cute today. those are thigh highs she's wearing cup her thighs perfectly. it makes me wanna..

he'd had enough when he started jacking himself off after he left your house for the night. thinking of you, the innocent girl next door who doted on him and gave him attention. who is way too sweet for her own good. with this stupid crush on him that you refused to say anything about.

how dare you make him fall in love.

you started wearing thigh highs when he mentioned casually he likes them, tempting him with a garter belt. a garter that his eyes strained to casually get a peek at if the pleats of your skirt bounced in just the right way.

he caught you on your way out the door to go the convenience/grocery store that stayed open all night, a list of ingredients and a recipe in your hand to read on the way.

"why do you do this nonsense?" scaramouche asked, snatching the slip of paper out of your hand. he couldn't help but smirk. just like he thought, there was a recipe for rice balls with eel in them and miso soup. you were even going to stop by the coffee shop and get his favorite coffee.

...

fucking hell, you are way too sweet for your own good but damn it, he enjoyed soaking up every bit of your attention now. his bitch mother even "accused" him of dating someone a few days ago. the nerve!

"i..i." you stammered shyly in a way that made him want to kiss you. really really badly. you knew you were caught. "was i that obvious?"

scaramouche snorted. "you are so obvious that you could've landed plane without waving your arms. it was actually a little pathetic," he sighed seeing your reaction. why did you do that? why did your cheeks flush when he flat out insulted you?

and that was how you ended up on your back on his bed, your legs spread and stripped almost entirely of your clothes as he crawled between your legs. "these stay on," he insisted, hooking his finger under the top of your thigh high, letting it snap back on your thigh. he'd angrily kissed you all the way up to his room, pawing at your clothes and swallowing your moans into his mouth.

you always took care of him in your room. and now he was taking care of you properly in his room. it was a chore to fight his pride, anyways. and he didn't want to fight it anymore.

having his hands holding your thighs apart while he licked slow, hungry stripes up and down your pussy was much more preferable. "desperation is good color on you, slut," he groaned, teasingly kitten licking your clit before sweeping it down to swirl around your hole. youclenched on the tip of his tongue like he imagined that you would.

"i..i can't help it," you moan shakily, squirming as you grind on his mouth, "i'm sorry. i'm so in love you with it hurts. i just..just," you are cut off when scaramouche latched his lips around your clit, letting out a gasp of pleasure. your clit tingled and throbbed as he sucked, prodding and swirling his tongue in a way that made a dizzying warmth spread through your core. "i wanted your attention."

you sound so fucking cute it made his cock ache almost painfully. did you have any idea how unbearable you made it all the fucking time? "i saw right through your pathetic attempts to woe me. praise me more, slut. it's making me hard," he groaned, drunk on the taste on your pussy soaking his tongue.

he held your pussy against his mouth as you grinded on his tongue, your fingers finding his hair and pushing his mouth down. "you are perfect, scara!" you cry out, your clit throbbing twice as hard underneath his tongue. "your tongue feels so good! you are all i ever think about!"

he could edge himself on your words praise, soaking up every word. "go on. keep going while i tongue fuck you," he moaned, focusing his tongue on your clit again.

his tongue working your pussy over like a starved animal was making you start to babble nonsense. "your so smart, and handsome and strong. your fingers are beautiful, so beautiful i want to suck on them. don't stop, please. please," you have the cutest sounding whimpers when the jolts of pleasure rocketing through you were too much for you to process.

your precious babbling spurred scaramouche's tongue on, one hand reluctantly leaving your thigh to palm and rub his cock outside his jeans. you deserve to cum hard on his tongue for sounding so sweet.

you twitch and spasm in bliss, tugging urgently on his hair. your hips bucked up to rub and grind on his mouth. you writhed on the bed, relaxing into his possessive squeeze on your thighs. it wasn't long before you couldn't keep it together anymore. or at least as together as you thought you had it. you'd broken on his tongue a long time ago.

you whimper weakly behind your shameless moans, your thighs shaking as your orgasm washed over you. it was so strong it nearly even made your fingers fall limp in his hair. his tongue lovingly fucked you through your orgasm until you were panting and shaking on the cusps of overstimulation. he lapped at your release.

"i think i found the only sweet i will enjoy," satisfied, he sat up and wiped his mouth. you are practically passed out on his bed, exhausted and overloaded. neither of you were making it to your evening classes. he planned to spend that time further devouring you once he let you sleep a little.

[missqhughes]

CAN HE GET YOU LIKE THIS? | Q. HUGHES43

-> quinn hughes x jacksgf!reader

-> contains: cheating, smut with plot , SLIGHT angst, and other sexual themes, oc’s created for tha plot, intended lowercase, use of y/n

-> IN WHICH: jack almost cant seem to control himself around another woman at the lake house; and to make it worse, in front of his girlfriend. when she cries her frustrations to her boyfriends older brother, he seems to have the perfect solution to her problems.

-> my first hockey fic! i spent so much time on it, and i’m pretty proud tbh. also, i’m so excited to post on this page, and as i always say on my other blog, hope you love it as much as i do!

*fic is not proofread

18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

y/n was never the jealous type.

she never needed anyone’s approval.

but god, what jack was doing was pissing her off.

for the first time, luke had brought his girlfriend april, to the lake house for the summer, and this week, y/n had the unpleasant company of aprils friend stampeding around the house for the week.

about 100% of the time, she could handle girls throwing themselves at jack at this point. she was used to it; jack was always a good boyfriend to her, and could always control himself with his endless female attention.

until today.

the july sun delivered a scorching heat down on the group as they conversed somewhere on the middle of the lake in the hughes family boat.

the typical casual conversation that y/n, jack, and his brothers had on their boat days were greatly interrupted by the ear piercing voices of april’s friends.

“jack, wanna let me drive the boat?”

“jack, the sun is too bright! can i please wear your hat?”

jack let out low chuckles at the flattery delivered to him, and y/n was doing her usual job at ignoring them.

with her dark tinted sunglasses on and her head resting on the back seat of the boat, she saw her boyfriend place his white baseball cap on one of april’s god forsaken friend.

her eyebrows furrowed; jack never fed into anything like this. the pang of anxiety lowly rested in the pit of her stomach, but she chose to ignore it.

he knew better.

“jacky, how does it look on me?”

through her dark lenses, she witnessed the ratty girl in front of her spin in front of jack, pulling the sides of her bikini up while doing so.

he made no attempt to hide his gaze on the girl in front of him, or the comment that slipped from his lips afterwards;

“looks good,” he said lowly, probably thinking that his girlfriend mere feet away from him was fast asleep from the summer heat, unaware to his tease.

the anxiety in y/n’s stomach began to surface more, a jealousy and anger she hadn’t felt in a situation like this before arising. she thought whatever of it, that she was being crazy, that she could shove this feeling down.

y/n kept her gaze straight forward, blocking out any of the chatter coming from anyone in her vicinity; her eyes locked on luke’s slow speed on the boat, conversing casually with april, unaware of the drama brewing behind them.

god, can he not drive any faster? she thought to herself, the annoyance within growing deeper and deeper.

the boat rocked along with the motion of the water beneath it, but y/n did her best to sit completely still, feeling that if she moved, the her negative emotions would swirl harder.

after a grueling 4 minute ride back to the dock, luke had secured the boat,

“everyone’s good to get off now,” he told the group, grabbing april’s hand and towel, assisting her onto the dock.

the short haired girl, the one throwing herself all over jack, the one who’s name y/n didn’t even bother to remember in their introductions, was just about to take it too far.

she stood up first, jack and y/n following behind her.

the ratty girl “dropped” her towel, allowing the perfect opportunity to bend down in front of jack,

“woops! my bad,” her voice made an embarrassing attempt to be seductive to jack, turning her head to eye him up and down.

jack let out a deep inhale, just enough to set y/n off further on her silent rage.

“all good, let me help you out.”

the girl giggled as she took jacks hand, letting it linger on his skin longer than necessary.

he paid no mind to his girlfriend behind him.

the insatiable urge to strangle the two idiots in front of y/n was barely present on her face, as she decided to take back control of the situation, and remind both of them who his significant other was.

“babe, i’m tired, do you want to come up and take a nap?”

his conversation with the short haired girl was cut with y/n’s words, he looked back at the two, contemplation in his mind, before smiling at y/n.

see? nothing to worry about-

“i uh, i think i’m gonna stay down here for a bit, don’t want to go inside yet, it’s just a really nice day y’know?”

her ears began to ring with his words, cheeks growing red as she looked over at luke and april, who shifted uncomfortably, now aware of the drama upon the dock.

“uh, yeah… yeah that’s fine.”

“i’ll be up soon, promise,” jack said as he sat down with april, luke, and her stupid friend.

y/n ignored his words, turning on her heel to walk up to the house, pace growing as soon as she was out of sight from the dock.

now that she was alone, all the feelings the thought she was suppressing were now at the forefront of her body and mind. she ran her hands through her hair, almost ready to rip it out from frustration.

y/n stormed through the house, and as she passed the living room, she was met with quinn; who was quietly reading a book with his feet kicked up on the ottoman.

before he lifted his head, his eyes went up first, gaze met with y/n’s indignant expression,

“woah, you okay, something happen on the one boat day i miss?” he said light heartedly,

“quinn, not now,”

y/n snapped at him, before slamming her bedroom door, the action echoing through the otherwise quiet house.

——————————————————————————

dinner wasn’t any better.

y/n didn’t realize how much time had gone by as she was staring at the ceiling, recounting the events of the day. jack did not keep his promise about “coming up soon” which wasn’t to the shock of y/n, considering his behavior today. he did stop in her designated room, to give her a kiss on the forehead, and to tell that dinner was ready.

and that was it.

now, she was sitting next to jack at the table, his happy chatter with his brothers, april, and company sounding like mumbles in her ears. she felt a gaze on her, hoping it was jack, but when y/n turned her head softly to confirm, he was still smiling at his continued conversation.

like nothing was wrong.

there was only one other person who wasn’t talking, and her eyesight landed right on his.

quinn.

she shifted in her seat, quickly averting their eye contact, and picked at her quarter eaten meal with her fork.

“excuse me everyone, i’m gonna go lay down,”

jack looked at y/n, giving her a half smile and no thought to her abrupt departure, before returning to his seemingly endless conversation.

y/n began to pick her plate up to take it to the sink, when quinn’s voice spoke up,

“i’ll take care of it,” the tips of his fingers pushed down lightly on the edge of her plate.

“you sure? it’s fine i don’t-”

“just go lay down.”

y/n blinked at him a few times before nodding her head, setting her plate down and shuffling to her room.

she closed the door softly this time, letting out a shaky breath as she sat on the edge of the plush bed. her head was beginning to throb, not sure if it was from lack of food or just from the complete and total anxiety jack was giving her.

——————————————————————————

y/n scrolled mindlessly on her phone, again losing the track of time with the state she was in.

1:19am.

the dryness in her throat was becoming more present as she came down from her brain fog, deciding to clear herself with a glass of water.

y/n slipped into the kitchen, only the warm dim glow from the microwave light allowing her to see. the glass cups lightly clinked together as she pulled one out, then setting it down to fill up.

the refrigerator hummed softly, barely breaking the silence through the house. then, a raspy voice spoke behind her,

“what’re you doing up?”

y/n whipped her head around, almost dropping and shattering the glass of water in her hand,

“jesus christ quinn, you scared the shit out of me!”

she set down the glass to put a hand to her chest, an attempt to slow down the spike in her heart rate.

quinn let out a small, quiet laugh, “sorry, i thought you heard me.”

“no,” she let out a huff, “i didn’t,” y/n smiled back at him gently as the beating in her chest settled.

“so, what’s wrong?”

quinn was quick to change the conversation to put her on the spot, y/n’s lips parting as she thought of her next words.

“nothing, i don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“yes you do.”

y/n scoffed, “you really have a habit of interrupting me don’t you?”

“stop avoiding the question. what’s wrong? talk to me, y/n.”

the two stared at one another, having an unspoken battle with each other,

y/n broke first.

she swallowed, knowing the words about to spill out of her mouth were going to come shaky and scattered; she didn’t want quinn, or anyone for that matter, to know the state her mind was at. y/n hopped up to sit on the kitchen counter, retelling the day to quinn.

“it was… it was jack. today. he was just letting april’s stupid fucking friend flirt with him! and-”

“alana?”

she shot him a deep scowl, “don’t interrupt me to tell me what her stupid name is!”

quinn raised his hands in defeat, “sorry, sorry, keep going,”

“he let her wear his hat, she bent over in front of him and he said nothing, and as you could tell from earlier today, he didn’t even come up to the house with me when i asked…”

her words trailed off shakily, y/n felt hot, wet tears flow down her cheeks, slightly blurring her vision, she looked down, unable to meet quinn’s gaze she felt burning into her face.

“y/n… i’m sorry. he’s a shithead for that,”

he stepped closer to her, lessening the distance between them,

“y/n.”

she hummed in response, sniffles coming from her, still refusing to look up at him,

“y/n look at me.”

y/n knew how persistent quinn was, and he definitely was not going to let her get away with not looking at him. though it felt like lifting a ton of bricks, her glossy eyes looked up to meet his.

quinn’s eyes flickered all over her face, reading her sorrow expression. he brought his hand up to meet her face, gently using his thumb to brush away any fallen tears on her tinted cheeks.

“you know, i really hate it when you cry,” he cooed softly, still wiping away the spilling tears, paying more attention to her in these mere minutes than jack had been all day.

“i’m so mad at myself, i should’ve said something, i let it all happen in front of me,” y/n said, her quiet frustrations let out only for quinn’s ears to hear.

“hey, hey, no. you shouldn’t have even been put in that position, don’t blame yourself, okay?” he placed his hands on either sides of the counter, locking her in. his voice being stern but still soft, a tough love kind of talk.

y/n’s heart beated faster as she became hyper aware of how close their bodies were, feeling the warmth radiating off of him.

she wanted to knock herself in the head for feeling this way, but her heightened distaste for jack in the moment, quinn’s messy hair combined with his beard and tired eyes made him so sinfully appealing.

“you’re right, i shouldn’t have,”

y/n felt almost awkward in this moment, especially it being her boyfriends older brother. there was no way for her to move without being even closer to him.

“god, y/n… cant believe that… if i had you… i’d never let that happen,”

quinn’s tired eyes turned lustful by the second, going up and down y/n’s body before flickering between her own eyes and lips.

“quinn,” she let out with a breath, “you cant say things like that, you know you can’t,”

y/n couldn’t help herself from matching quinn’s motion, unable to tear away from looking at his full lips.

“after the shit he pulled today, i think i’m safe to do whatever the hell i want,”

the gentle demeanor in his voice was replaced with seduction, bringing his face closer to hers, close enough for their breaths to mingle.

“say the words y/n, i wont do anything you don’t want me to do. say the words and i’ll stop.”

she was between a rock and a hard place. it’s not like jack had outright cheated in front of her, and she would feel horrible doing something like that to him. however, his actions were inexcusable, and he saw not an inch of an issue with what he was doing. and at the exact same time, quinn was ready to be all over her. hell, he’s practically admitting to wanting his little brother’s girlfriend. in this moment, he could give her anything.

fuck it.

this is what he gets, she thought to herself. it’s not like he would find out anyway. no one would.

“i want you quinn.”

the words rolled off her tongue faster than her mind let her think about the consequences, and in no time, quinn captured y/n’s lips in his, securing his hands on to her waist.

the two kissed sloppily in the kitchen, out in the open, with too much opportunity to get caught. neither of them cared.

y/n’s hands found a home in his hair, quinn emitting a low groan as she gently tugged at his waves.

she felt a heat growing between her legs, and an attempt to close them for relief was blocked by quinn pushing them back open with his hips.

y/n gasped, allowing quinn’s tongue entry, and as he explored her mouth with his, she felt him growing harder against her core, making the wetness in her shorts more difficult to ignore.

quinn panted heavily as he pulled away, still gripping at her waist, fingers hugging the bottom hem of her shirt,

“can i take this off?”

she buzzed at his words, nodding vigorously. with her consent, he raised the shirt above her body, y/n lifting her arms in assistance.

quinn wasted no time to kiss down her neck to her now exposed upper chest, sitting perfectly pretty in her bra. he sucked and nipped at the bare skin, earning quiet moans from her soft lips.

“mm—fuck quinn,” y/n threw her head back in pleasure, giving more room for quinn to litter her chest with marks. she didn’t even care if they were going to bruise tomorrow or who was going to saw. everyone else was on the back burner of her mind.

her praise only made him rougher, sucking harder into her skin, feeling himself getting more and more rowdy by the second.

his lips went up to claim hers again, tapping her thigh as a signal to wrap her legs around his waist. she listened, hooking herself around him. quinn lifted her up effortlessly, their kiss not being broken as he peeked his eyes open in a tenth of a second to see their way to his room.

with one hand tucked under y/n’s ass, he turned the knob to his bedroom door, stepping into the room before closing the door behind him with a light kick.

quinn’s legs met the edge of the bed, and he threw her down before making himself pry his lips from her’s, plump and slick from his.

“you’re still okay with his?” he asked, his thumb drawing circles on her hips.

“more than okay, please quinn. i need more.”

he nodded, taking a step back to take all of her in with his eyes.

she looked at him confused for a moment, before he talked,

“strip.”

she swallowed heavily, ready to obey his words. y/n wiggled out of her shorts, leaving her skin only covered by a black bra and panties.

“i said strip. all the way.”

her heart was about to come out of her chest, all of it was beginning to feel real, and that she was about to be naked and on display for jack’s brother.

only hearing the beating in her chest, quinn watched as y/n unhooked her bra first, tits bouncing with the action, and he thought he could cum in his pants right then and there.

y/n sat down on the bed, staring deeply into quinn’s eyes, slipping her black panties down her half parted legs, pussy wet and glistening from the moonlight shining through the window.

“fuck,” he whispered, unable to control his hand from falling to his crotch, beginning to palm himself through his shorts.

with a single hand, quinn took his shirt off, dipping his head down to kiss her naked thighs. y/n shuddered at his action, his kisses being everywhere except where she desperately needed them to be.

he hovered just above her core, “can i?”

“quinn please stop fucking asking and just do it,” y/n begged, squirming under him, desperate for his touch.

he licked a long stripe down her wet folds, y/n unable to control the guttural moan that escaped from her lips. her back arched in pleasure at the feeling of quinn’s lips sucking on her puffy clit, aching for attention.

he couldn’t stop; he was devouring her like it was his death row and she was his last meal, already addicted to the taste of her pussy on his tongue.

quinn pushed her hips down, sticking his tongue in her and his nose bumping against her clit with each motion. y/n felt knots twisting and forming in her stomach, a strong release forming, one that jack had never even came close to making her feel.

“mmph, shit quinn— gonna fucking cum, oh— my fuck,”

profanities spilled out of y/n’s mouth, but her pleasure was cut short as his dripping lips pulled away from her aching core, craving his touch.

she whined at the loss of contact, only to be met with quinn peeling off his shorts and underwear, his throbbing dick aching with desire from his tip.

“when i make you cum, i want it to be on my dick, pretty girl.”

y/n felt like she could’ve exploded right then and there, but she bit her lip, moving closer to the edge of the bed, giving quinn better access to line up with her.

he ran his dick between her wet folds a few times before inserting himself in her, the two let out gracious moans at the mutual pleasure.

quinn started slow, hips rolling back and forth, before quickening his pace to a pornographic speed.

his lips hooked onto y/n’s once again, sloppy and wet, both groaning into each others mouths with delight. in the kiss he captured both her wrists, pinning them above her head.

quinn broke the kiss to look at her with his brows furrowed, concentrated on fucking y/n senseless. her bottom lip was between her teeth, tits bouncing with the speed of his thrusts.

“fuck y/n, you feel so good on my dick, can he ever get you like this? a moaning fucked out mess? hm?”

his words barely registered in her ears, body buzzing as his dick continued to destroy her pussy.

“no, no, mm— you fuck me so much better quinn,” y/n did her best not to scream it, still aware that the other people in the house had the potential to hear them.

“gonna— cum— y/n— shit,” quinn huffed out between thrusts. she also felt the now familiar knots forming in her stomach, her release about to come.

his movements became sloppy as his release coated her walls, and at the same time, she painted his dick with her own.

they felt euphoric, quinn pulled out of her slowly, groaning as his dick came out of her.

y/n laid out on the bed panting with closed eyes, hearing the light flicker on from quinn’s connected bathroom.

she felt a wet towel meet her sensitive core, hissing at the feeling.

“sorry, just wanna clean you up first,”

y/n looked at quinn while he cleaned her with concentration, his body glistening with sweat and his messy hair slightly sticking to his forehead.

“thank you, quinn,”

y/n was breathless watching quinn go back into the bathroom, her chest still rapidly rising and falling. she felt herself grow more tired with each passing minute.

quinn came back from the bathroom with a different pair of underwear on, holding out a pair of his boxers to put on. y/n gladly accepted, slipping them up her body. she grabbed her bra from the floor, hooking it back on.

after she was partly dressed, he delivered her a sweet, soft kiss to her lips. different than any kind of kiss they had so far, this one was deep and loving; his hands gently cupping her face.

“stay with me,”

quinn’s proposition took her by surprise, thinking he was going to send her back to her room after all this, but no.

“quinn, i really shouldn’t, it’s not a good ide-”

“you and jack can figure your shit out later. as of right now, you’re mine.”

he was right and she knew it. he claimed her, and there was definitely going to be some kind of consequence for this. either way y/n and jack were going to have to figure their shit out, but to her, that was an issue for the morning.

“okay, i’ll stay.”

quinn smiled at her, planting a kiss on her forehead. he peeled away at his thick blue comforter, leaving space for the both of them to crawl inside. y/n felt herself more comfortable falling asleep with quinn than she did with jack, whatever that meant. but she didn’t care. his body was tangled with hers, falling asleep to the soft beat of his heart.

pt. 2

——————————————————————————

© missqhughes

xoxo, kaia

[dollfacefantasy]

SWEET ESCAPE ♡

pairing: carlos oliveira x puppy-hybrid!fem!reader x chris redfield

summary: carlos takes off for a few weeks to plan an escape from umbrella for you and him. during that time, he enlists chris redfield to watch over you. when he returns, the two men you've come to care about want to have some fun with you.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, threesome, hybrid!reader, daddy kink/ddlg

a/n: first kinktober fic yay. i know the pictures don't match timeline wise but re5 chris is my fav so let's pretend. i'm gonna try to get my kinktober fics out early each day (someone suggested 3 am which i think is totally cute) but we'll see how that goes. thank you guys for reading, reblogging, and commenting. smoochies <3

kinktober slot: day 1 - hybrids

"I've only been gone a couple weeks, pup. Did ya already forget who your daddy is?" Carlos's voice sounds through Chris's living room.

As soon as you hear the familiar timbre, your head snaps in his direction, ears perked up and tail already wagging fast enough to create a tornado. You hop off your spot on Chris's lap and bolt over to the man you'd been missing for the past few weeks.

You launch yourself into his arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck to get a deep breath of his scent. His laughter vibrates in his chest against yours, and he spins you around like some princess at the end of a cartoon.

"I didn't forget. I could never forget," you mumble and nuzzle the beating warmth of his pulse point.

"I know, puppy," he chuckles, rubbing your back before he sets you on your feet. "You look like you were pretty comfortable with Chris though."

The words aren't said with malice or jealousy, just some more teasing. Carlos expected this when he left you in Chris's care. As soon as Jill handed him the scrap of paper with Redfield's number, he assumed you'd form a bond with the other man.

He wasn't stupid, and he knew you. His sweet puppy girl. You were his partner in the field, given to him by Umbrella. But now he was done with Umbrella's shit, so by extension, you were too. The past couple weeks he'd been gone was spent making arrangements for you two to flee to somewhere they'd never be able to drag either of you into their meaningless war ever again.

Gently scratching behind your ear, he sways a bit with you in his arms. He'd missed the feeling of your smaller frame against the muscles of his chest.

He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. Ever since you'd skittered to him from the lineup of other mercenary hybrids, he felt you latch on to some deep part of him. It was why he was gonna get you out of this life where you and him were treated like weapons.

When deciding who to leave you with, his first choice had been Jill. He trusted her, and she understood what you were and what you would need. It's not that you couldn't take care of yourself; you were physically and mentally capable of that. You just suffered from a touch of separation anxiety as a result of the canine attributes inserted into your DNA. You needed someone to devote yourself to, someone to keep you from being too lonely. She wasn't up for that task though. She had enough emotional baggage on her own. She couldn't support yours.

That's why she recommended Chris. Responsible, caring, attentive. He had all the right qualities to handle someone like you. Carlos met with him, and he had to agree. He introduced you to the other man, and you had no problem getting along. If Jill trusted him and you didn't sense anything off, he felt fine about leaving you with the guy.

But still, he knows how you are. He knows you can be needy. You love physical affection. You love having a lap to sit on and a firm hand to give you head pats and ear scratches. Just add a deep voice to coo at you about how you're such a good girl, just the sweetest little thing and you're set.

You look up at Carlos with a shy smile in response to his teasing. "That's just cause Chris is nice to me," you say.

He huffs another laugh and heads over to the couch with you, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap.

"I'm sure he is," he says, bouncing you a couple times before directing his gaze to the man sitting in the nearby chair. "Has she been good for you?"

"Of course. No complaints from me," he says. The flat line of his lips tilts upwards slightly.

"That's my girl," Carlos praises with a peck to your cheek, "Chris took good care of you, huh?"

You nod proudly, drawing chuckles from both of the men in the room.

"Did he do it as good as daddy?"

That gets a less certain response from you, but it garners the same amount of amusement from them.

"Good girl. Don't wanna hurt anyone's feelings, huh?" he teases.

Chris watches on and interjects. "I think I did a pretty good job though. Didn't I, puppy?"

He speaks with a knowing cadence, subtle seductiveness. You know what he's implying but so does Carlos. Before he'd left you with Chris, he'd been honest about the full nature of your relationship. Told him you were used to getting his dick at least once a day. It was basically a part of your bedtime routine, cumming knocked your lights out better than any melatonin could.

He wasn't sure if you'd want that from Chris. Certainly not right away. But after a week or so, he could picture you getting a little needy, desperate for something to fill the void Carlos's absence had created. And Chris was the perfect candidate. Big and bulky, warm and gentle. He wasn't mad about it. He made peace with the possibility of this happening. Even if you did let Chris soothe you for a few nights, you'd still be coming with him when the fog cleared.

"You did good," you agree with Chris. One of your legs lazily swings as it dangles from Carlos's lap, brushing the leather edge of his boot each time.

"Just good? I remember you saying it was more than good," Chris taunts affectionately.

The words trigger another wave of timidity over you. You sink back into the safety of Carlos's embrace and shrug. "It was pretty good."

"What'd Chris do that was pretty good?" Carlos chimes in. 

"Nothing," you say, too fast for it to be the truth.

"Oh c'mon. You can tell me," he says before teasing a little more, "You're not gonna get in trouble."

You pause, mulling over your decision. But then you decide to give in a little.

"He gave me a special treat."

Carlos grins at the answer. Now that you had admitted it in your terms, he knew he could keep poking and prodding. Even though he was ok with what had happened between you and Chris, he still felt an air of possession pluming up within him. The desire to make sure you knew who you belonged to.

"A special treat?" he echoes, one of his hands sliding over your thighs and between your legs. He doesn't actually do anything there, but you still jolt at the feeling.

You hear Chris chuckle from where he's sitting, bringing heat to your cheeks.

"Why don't you just tell him, sweetheart? You had no problem begging for it when we were alone," the older man taunts.

"Doesn't surprise me. She knows how to get what she wants," Carlos says. His fingers move back and forth on your inner thigh.

You squirm on his lap, looking up at him with your pair of natural puppy eyes. The truth floats between all three of you, left unsaid but known by everyone.

"What're you acting so shy for?" Carlos coos as his large hands slide up your waist, "You have nothing to hide."

Chris rises from his chair and sits on the couch with you and Carlos, only maintaining the illusion of separation by sitting at the other end.

Leaning into Carlos more, you let the question remain unanswered. Interest swirls in your pupils at the potential of Chris moving closer.

"Acting like I'm a stranger now?" he jokes.

You shake your head. Your eyes dart between the two of them as if they were two wolves closing in, ready to tear you apart.

"Don't be so nervous, baby. You know daddy's gonna take care of you," Carlos whispers.

And he stays true to his word. After a little more teasing, your clothes have come off while his are pushed around, leaving the necessary parts accessible. Chris stays in his spot mostly watching, only interjecting when needed.

When they get down to it, you end up face-down, ass in the air on Chris's couch. Carlos ruts into your cunt from behind, panting with each sloppy thrust. Your head bobbles against the other man's thigh. Soft whimpers pour out against the rough denim of his jeans. His hand strokes over the curve of your head in a soothing rhythm.

"Fuck, I've been missing this," Carlos grunts from behind you.

His hand splays across the small of your back and pushes down, keeping you at the perfect angle to take each thrust to the hilt. You whine as his cock rams deep into your insides. The occasional yelp bursts from your lips when his tip brushes your cervix, but Chris hushes you from above with sweet reassurances.

"You're taking it so well, puppy. Taking your daddy so well," he coos. His hand not occupied with petting you pumps over his cock lazily.

Your fingers dig into the meat of his leg. You nod weakly to affirm his statement. Carlos chuckles at your fucked out state and smacks your ass, knocking you forward.

"He's right. I can tell you've been missin' this. She's squeezing me like she wants me to never leave again," he rasps. His shaggy hair sways with the rocking of his hips.

"Never- ah- never want you to leave again," you repeat, your lips smooshing against Chris.

"Daddy's not leaving, baby. Never again," he growls while plowing into you.

A chorus of moans and whines come from you. The drag of his cock on your velvet inner walls has your eyes rolling back and your legs kicking lightly against the cushions.

Chris watches from above, the pace at which he jerks himself off steadily increasing. He can see a small patch of drool on his pants where your head lies. Reaching for you, he cups your jaw and lifts your head to make you look at him.

He sticks his hand out in front of your mouth and simply says "Lick."

You're not in any place to question the order right now, so you do as he tells you. You stick your tongue out and lick a broad stripe from the base of his palm to the tip of his middle finger.

He watches on with satisfaction as you wet his hand. When you're done, he lets go and allows your head to thud against his leg again. He brings the now saliva-slick palm back to his length and gives it a few tugs, the sensation much smoother with your added lubrication.

Carlos grins at the sight. He grabs you by the back of your neck and tugs you upward, forcing your spine to arch and his cock to slide even deeper.

A loud cry echoes from you at the new angle, but he holds you there and keeps bouncing his hips against the plush flesh of your ass.

"Look at you, so polite for Chris," he teases.

You can't really respond. The way your head bobbles around is enough to keep any coherent words from forming inside your mind. 

"Chris," he says, calling the attention of the older man, "Isn't she a good girl?"

He takes the bait and nods. "Of course she is. Such a good girl," he agrees.

Your tail wags, brushing against Carlos's stomach in the process. He laughs and uses his freehand to pat your ass again.

"You hear that, babydoll? Everyone knows how well-behaved you are. The perfect little puppy."

Now you do manage to respond. A loud whine bursts from your lips and you nod wildly.

"Uh-huh," you choke out, "'m daddy's perfect puppy."

"That's right," he huffs out with a laugh, "Think you deserve a treat."

Your tail starts whacking back and forth harder between him and you.

"You think you can cum? Think you can cum for daddy?" he asks.

Another quick nod shakes your head up and down.

"Mhm! I can, I can, I can," you babble.

"That's my girl," he praises, "Do it for me then. I want you to cum all over my cock."

To help you out a little, he snakes his free hand around your waist and pushes his fingers between your thighs. His digits swirl around your swollen little bud, sending shocks of pure ecstasy through you. You feel the building fizzle in your belly that makes your toes curl. Your fingers curl and uncurl, trying to find anything to hold onto.

Chris offers you the hand he's not using to pleasure himself. You snatch it and lock on, holding it for dear life while Carlos fucks into you hard. His own cock is flushed and aching, ready for release as well. He strokes it a bit faster, beating his fist up and down, up and down.

Carlos can feel you tighten up. Your body trembles with its proximity to release. He circles his fingers with more speed and applies a bit more pressure.

"That's it, baby," he coaxes from behind you, "That's it. Come on. Cum for daddy. Be a good girl for me. Show Chris how pretty you look when you let go."

The words send you crashing over the edge. You throw your head back and buck violently in his grasp. His strong arms keep you in place. They hold you nice and secure so he can fuck you through it.

Chris finishes next, unable to take the sight of you unraveling. He groans and melts against the plush cushion behind him. Pearly white ropes of cum jump from the tip and spurt onto the skin of his stomach. He pumps every last drop out of himself, still holding your wavering hand as Carlos starts to shoot his own load into you.

He moans loud too and strengthens his grip around you. The last few thrusts are particularly brutal. They nearly topple you over flat onto your face.

Carlos doesn't unhand you until he's done and feels his cum has been fucked nice and deep into you, hard enough to make up for the period of separation that preceded this.

When he pulls out of you, he scoops your body up and twists you around to cradle you in his lap.

"My baby," he whispers between a few kisses, "Always so good for me."

You nuzzle into the affection, and he strokes your jaw, directing you to look up at him. His fingers then turn your head, guiding you to look at the other man in the room.

"Chris did such a good job taking care of you. I think you should tell him thank you," he says.

You look at Chris with shyness in your eyes, as if he hadn't just watched you get your brains fucked out. "Thank you, Chris," you say.

He smirks at you, still a bit hazy from his own release. "No problem, pretty girl."

You can feel Carlos grinning against the side of your head. "How about you show Chris how thankful you are. Give him something to remember before we hit the road," he teases.

Now, Chris smiles and pats his lap. "He's right. I'm gonna miss you once you're gone, puppy. Maybe you can help me feel a little better about it."

A smile of your own spreads across your face. Leaning forward, you crawl in Chris's direction. At this rate, you'd be tiring yourself out, ready to sleep through the long car ride tonight and wake up at the location of your sweet escape.

[greyskyflowers]

I'm just such a big fan of Edwin having some permanent issues after a second trip to hell and the final run in with Esther.

I like the idea that he actually has to sleep now. Nowhere near what a living human needs but more then he ever needed before. Maybe sleeping for several hours every few weeks.

Iron wounds take longer to heal, even though Edwin has always had a higher pain tolerance due to his experiences in hell.

When he's really tired, things start to hurt. Tender pain along all his joints, the spots where the demon spider found it was the easiest to tear him apart.

He get bruises under his eyes, headaches, occasionally a little chill, stiffness, and just a general aching all over his body.

It's hard for Edwin to sleep, for several reasons. Nightmares, anxiety, restlessness, and just being stubborn.

The vulnerability of sleep is terrifying.

The idea of leaving Edwin alone somewhere to sleep, even in their office, has Charles skin pickling. Especially knowing Edwin is also reluctant to sleep without him there.

So, Edwin does not sleep alone. Ever. Occasionally he gets left with Niko, and sometimes Crystal, but it's for very brief amounts of time before he's back with Charles.

It should be embarrassing to have these issues now, and it is, but they're even closer after Port Townsend and it's not something Edwin can avoid. He has to sleep now.

Really, it comes down to does he wants to keep it to himself and nap when no one else is around to avoid feeling weak? Or does he want to sleep with the comfort of knowing someone is with him and hell won't take him before he even gets a chance to wake up?

It comes down to how fearful is he of something dragging him off into hell again and the answer is apparently incredibly so.

Also, if he's going to look vulnerable and weak then it might as well be with Charles, who's seen him at his worst.

He tries not to overthink how pleased Charles is each time Edwin seeks him out for a nap or how good it feels to be held, the safest place he can think of is in Charles arms or under his sharp watch.

Charles hovers, and he's aware of it. He can't convince himself to stray too far from Edwin. Part of it's because he's protective, reluctant to leave Edwin in anyone else's hands when he's more vulnerable then before.

Part of it is selfish, he's a little possessive. A sleeping Edwin is not something anyone else needs to see. Edwin in pain is not something anyone else needs to see.

Crystal had recently demanded they have a bed available in the office for when her and Niko stayed over, even though they rarely use it. It's soft, covered in pillows and blankets, and Edwin has taken to hiding away in it when he sleeps. Crystal looks incredibly pleased when it slips that Edwin uses it and Charles is hit with a intense wave of fondness for her.

No one needs to see Edwin like this. Especially not when he loses a lot of his layers and curls up in something more comfortable. It leaves him vulnerable, his throat and wrists bare, and looking smaller without all extra clothing.

Nobody needs to see how he only really lets himself sleep when Charles is in bed with him or close enough in the room to reach out for if needed. He watches Charles do whatever it is he's doing with half lidded eyes, a strip of green that stubbornly stays visible until Charles is closer.

In the beginning they thought it was something temporary. Ghost don't need to sleep, Charles never sleeps. Sometimes he can get himself to relax enough that it's almost like sleeping but it's not anywhere near actual sleep.

They think it's just him trying to make up what Esther took.

But it keeps happening. Again and again.

And it makes them both anxious. Charles is worried about why Edwin suddenly needs to sleep but Edwin is worried about the actual sleeping part.

He does not want to sleep. Sleep means dreaming and nothing good will come from his dreams, he's sure of it.

It's also scary. Sleep is a weakness, it leaves him vulnerable and unaware. He doesn't want to sleep.

In those first few weeks where they all still thought this would pass, exhaustion caught up to him one evening as they were finishing up a long case. Charles was out and he couldn't even think about how wonderful it would be to go to go lay down because Charles was not there.

The office was too quiet. It made him restless and he would have paced but he was feeling especially sore that day. His hands had ached while he was writing and he had to stop frequently to flex them.

He was weak, alone, and rapidly sliding into a decreased mental awareness due to exhaustion. It's not a situation he liked.

They weren't apart for long those days, and still aren't, so Charles is back pretty quickly but it's long enough that Edwin was struggling. He blinked sleepily at Charles, with eyes that itched when they shouldn't have, and he must have looked terrible because Charles straightened up a little bit and his eyes jumped around the room before he relaxed.

He said something, dropped his bag and walked forward until he could put his hands on Edwin and that's it. Edwin leaned forward until he was relying on Charles to hold him up, turned his face into his neck and passed out still standing up.

It doesn't get that bad again. Charles is good about noticing when Edwin starts to slow down, and when it takes him a little longer to string his words together or explain himself. He picks up the way he carries himself different on day where things hurt a little more or how he rubs his temple when he feels a headache coming on.

He herds Edwin to bed like a sheep dog and makes sure everything is locked up so they won't be bothered. Edwin had managed to find a spell that would keep anyone else, living and none, out of their office when activated. It's perfect for extra privacy and security.

Charles hates that Edwin was hurt enough that he needs this now, and he hates seeing him wore down and exhausted... but part of him loves these days.

Edwin sleepy and soft, usually pulling Charles down with him until they're under all the blankets and pillows, tucked on their own little world.

He clings when he sleeps. He buries his face in Charles throat and under his chin like he's trying to hide, presses in as close as he can until they're completely tangled together. Not that Charles has any problem with that. He runs his fingers over skin in soothing gestures and pulls him in close if he starts to show any signs of a nightmare.

He wakes up with hair sticking up and clothes rumpled, blinking at Charles a few times as he tries to wake up enough to remember what's happening. Sometimes, Charles gets lucky and Edwin will stretch out like a cat before readjusting himself to be close again and doze off for a little longer.

It knocks the breath he doesn't need out of his lungs and love sits in his throat until it threatens to choke him.

Sometimes there are nightmares and Edwin shoves himself away desperately with a pained and fearful noise that has Charles cringing. Edwin stares at him from the other side of the bed, eyes big but unfocused in a way that shows he's not actually seeing Charles. He's tight, tense and completely locked up. He couldn't move even if he wanted to. They're both still laying down, and Charles doesn't move even though he wants to. He starts talking, low and soft, keeps doing that until Edwin starts to relax again. It's a slow process and it takes a while before Edwin is relaxed enough that Charles can reach out and coax him back closer. He's exhausted after those little episodes, too tired and his body too sore from being so tense to put up much of a fight as Charles tucks him in close again. Sometimes he's asleep before they're even settled back in, limp with sleep as Charles rearranges him in a way that won't have him aching when he wakes up.

Sometimes Charles is too wired to lay down, even if cuddling is great motivation, and he keeps himself busy while Edwin rests. Sometimes they're in the middle of a case and there's still work that needs to be done, so he does what can while until Edwin is back up and functional.

It's a powerful feeling, having Edwin trust him so much and so openly. Sometimes Charles has to check on him, the quiet and unmoving lump on the bed making him nervous until he looks him over, just to make sure everything is okay. It's hard to tell sometimes since they don't breathe like the living, and Edwin sleeps so quiet. He doesn't even flinch at Charles getting close, nothing triggering those survival instincts gained in hell that would have him awake and moving if it was anyone else this close.

God help anyone stupid enough to try something when they're like this. He'd fight anyone who disturbed them, anyone who woke Edwin up from his much needed rest or threaten to cause them harm. It burns under his skin and it makes his teeth itch.

Nothing would separate them. Nothing could take them away from each other.

[lvlyghost]

The Things I Never Said

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary: Simon had told you he never wanted to be a dad, so when the inevitable happens you run.

Word Count: 2.2k

Tw: angst, fluff, ooc simon(? descriptions of pregnancy and panic attacks, medical inaccuracies, slightly suggestive but nothing too explicit, this isn't proofread; i think that's it?✨

A/N: omg i couldn't stop thinking about this so i had to write it! I'm just feral for dad!simon loosely connected to this bc this is where the idea came from. Hope y'all enjoy it🫰🏻💛🦄

Masterlist✨| Part 2

You're shaking by the time you're out of the bathrooms. There's no doubt. You think with slight tremble on your lower lip. It almost feels aa of the world around you is closing in. Suffocating your lungs. Your vision blurs, when you toss the pregnancy test in the trash can.

This can't be happening. Not to you.

It's not that you didn't want to have kids.

But Simon didn't.

At this point you're sobbing uncontrollably, gasping for air. It's a good thing no one comes to this part late at night. The only moment you could find peace and solace. Sliding down the wall, hiding your face in your hands. How could you let this happen? You should've been more careful.

Your mind goes back to that day when neither of you cared about the consequences. Caught up in the moment, tearing each other's clothes; eager to be together. You hadn't seen Simon in two months when he was deployed to Serbia and you had to stay behind. Being both in the military meant knowing the risks. Every time could be the last time. You heard things about that specific mission. He got injured. You remember the gnawing fear clawing at your chest. And then there he was, knocking on your door as soon as they landed. His shoulder wrapped around bandages. He kissed you hard, desperately.

Hitting the mattress with you on top of him, not wanting to hurt him anymore. The sweet things he murmured in your ears, hands intertwined as you fall apart together.

You love him.

He cares for you.

But even if he felt slightly the same way about you, it wouldn't be enough.

Simon had... traumas. A tragic story of his own. You heard him talk about it late at night when he couldn't sleep. Those demons that plagued his mind, his dreams... and you listened. That's all you could do.

Offer a hand to the man that had saved you over and over again. And somewhere along the lines you fell.

And you fell hard.

Somewhere between dark nights and shared kisses at dawn.

-

You didn't get any sleep last night.

Your mind is still spinning with the anxiety. The morning sickness that started to disrupt as soon as you woke up. Red, puffy eyes that you try to dissimulate by washing your face hoping it goes away.

You get dressed feeling devastated, knowing that you'll have to face him as soon as you enter the training room. He's in charge. The mere thought makes you want to throw up. But you leave the bedroom nonetheless. Walking down the hallway feeling your hands sweating and your ragged breathing.

When you finally open the doors you're fifteen minutes late. That alone will earn you a punishment.

It's almost as if he feels your presence, immediately finding your form when you enter, his jaw tightens. Simon doesn't like this. But as long as you're under his command you get equal treatment or else, he'd be in problems. Both, would be in problems.

"Bit late Sergeant." He grumbles, emphasizing the last word staring directly in your eyes. Ghost is perceptive and is aware that something is wrong, but doesn't comment on it... yet. "Fifty push-ups. Start sparring when you're done."

You swallow down saliva, feeling your throat constrict.

Fuck, fuck. Don't cry. Not right now.

This whole situation has you sensitive.

You start, concentrating on doing the push-ups. Hearing the distant voice of him echoing around the room, sometimes you think he's closer to where you are then he's gone, but his gaze never leaves you. It's almost sinful how good he looks in that tight green army t-shirt and cargo pants

Your arms are sore and wobbly by the time you finish. Standing up you fight a wave o nausea, closing your eyes so hard you see white dots behind your eyelids.

"You alright?" It's Kyle's hand on your shoulder what brings you back, your eyes fluttering open and find him looking at you, eyebrows slightly raised.

You give him a small smile and a nod.

"Just tired that's all. Didn't get much sleep last night." You divert your gaze where the rest are beginning to spar. "How mad is Ghost?"

Gaz chuckles.

"I wouldn't call that mad. I think he's worried. You look like shite, dear."

"Oh." You say.

Gaz prompts you to the other side to join the training. Everyone's gathered around the training mat. Soap is kicking a soldier's ass. What was his name again? You forgot.

A gentle brush on your skin and then delicate fingers wrap your arm. You freeze, Simon's feather touch sends goosebumps all over your body. You turn your face upward to acknowledge him. His deep blue eyes soften when you look at him.

"Is everything okay Sergeant?" He asks. No. He demands.

You open your mouth and then close it. That's a question you don't know yourself.

I wish. You want to say.

But nothing will ever be okay after last night.

"I... I- didn't get much sleep, Sir. That's all."

Simon sighs but doesn't insist. He just nods, accepting your answer for now, once the training is done he'd talk to you. "You're up." He instructs.

Hand to hand to combat has never been your strongest suit but you do it nonetheless. Informatics on the other hand... you're the best of the best. That's why you're here, why you're a part of the task force.

Ghost stands within your range of vision in a way that you can see that he's there even when you're fighting.

You start although you're not in your best shape. Your heart is racing but not for the adrenaline. Your mind is fuzzy and your stomach churns. The panic is starting to break loose on you. You recognize the signs. You barely dodge the man's punch, this can't be called sparring. You're merely deflecting his hits, defending yourself.

Get a fucking grip!

Soap and Gaz look at each other. Then at Ghost who's clenching his fists, looking like he's about to jump between the two and kill the man. They get ready just in case something goes sideways.

You see his fist coming to your face, you take a step back but it grazes your left cheek. Someone in the distance swears and it's enough to distract you, the next blow goes to your gut. He doesn't even hit you with full force, noticing your lack of response he refrains as much as he can but it connects with your abdomen nevertheless.

It suffocates you. Brings you to your knees spitting saliva and gasping for air. You hear the soldier's frantic apologies. You cough trying to breathe but you just can't. It hurts you.

In a quick move Ghost is kneeling beside you, eyes scanning your body for external injuries. Anything.

"Hey... hey, kid! Look at me!" He orders. You can't, mostly because you're gasping for air, coughing, and the pain in your stomach. Ghost grabs your face seeing the tears collecting in the corner of your eyes. Another wave of nausea hits you and you spit out whatever comes out of your mouth. Simon takes you in his arms lifting you and runs to the infirmary, gritting his teeth. His steps echoing in the empty hallway as he bursts the doors of the med wing open.

-

"Captain..." you greet him as soon as you walk into his office, closing the door behind you with a soft click. Price looks at you, arms crossed. The bucket hat resting on his head. He's dead serious.

"Does he know?" He interrogates with that deep voice of his. It's only been an hour since the incident. Price had to do all in his power to keep Ghost busy. It nearly costs him a limb and a punch to his face. There's only so much he can do.

"No." You murmur, looking down to your feet.

"Jesus, kid." He pinches the bridge of his nose. His head was pounding already. This wasn't good. For any of them. John had decided to turn a blind eye on the situation. As long as it didn't interfere with their duties. Now? He shakes his head. Price walks towards you, the youngest of his team and a valuable asset. You were important to him, to everyone in the 141; to Simon in a very different way. "I'm putting you on medical leave. You must take care of your health, your body. I'll see what I can do, yeah? And for the love of God, talk to Simon."

-

You don't.

And that's because you're terrified. As soon as you left Price's office you ran to your room throwing your belongings in a duffel bag. You needed time to think. Of course you'd tell Simon.

Just not right now.

The disapproving stare of the doctor was enough to make you feel bad about hiding your pregnancy from him and then your Captain. You bite your lip and head out, the taxi driver is waiting already so you hop in, wishing to get some time alone. Clear your head and then find the best way to tell Simon about this.

It's raining outside by the time you're in your apartment. You've had time to get a quick shower and take the ibuprofen for your sore body. Your hands run absentmindedly to your stomach, soothing the skin but flinching when you press too hard. You should've stayed at base and talk to him after what happened.

But you're scared of the outcome.

By this time Simon must've found out you're gone. You won't blame him if he hates you. After all you ran away from him, like a coward.

Pouring some tea on a mug you hear the sound of keys jingle, and the footsteps followed by a large shadow that towers above you. Blond hair and hard eyes contemplating you, the mask is gone...

Holy shit. You think.

The only thing that Simon finds comfort in is gone. There's something about him not hiding behind the balaclava that sets deep in your heart. As if he were baring himself to you. Not that you hadn't seen his face before; that's exactly why this is more meaningful. It's serious. He chose to show you how vulnerable you can make him.

"Why?" His stern voice sends shivers down your spine. "I went to check on you and the first thing they say is that you're gone." His lips are pressed in a thin line.

"Simon, it's not what you're thinking..."

"Then bloody tell me what is it." He seethes, taking a step closer. "Was already losing my fucking mind over that bastard hitting you and suddenly you're gone?" He shakes his head. "Had I known you weren't going to fight back..."

"I'm pregnant." You blurt out, interrupting his talk. Simon's jaw clenched, halting and freezing on his spot. "And I'm sorry I didn't come to you as soon as I found out but I was scared." Your lips quiver and you hold back a sob, but unable to do much about the tears. "I was scared to tell you because I know you never wanted any of this, I failed to you. I couldn't sleep, I was panicking and the thought of losing you... I needed time to figure out how to tell you." Simon is silent, he doesn't move nor blinks. He just stares. Memories of his time with his father flooding his mind. He never wanted kids. That's true.

Seeing you there, in front of him. Choking on your words, crying because you thought he'd abandon you like you were nothing? Bloody fucking Christ it breaks his heart. Very few things had that effect on Simon. He had made you fearful of facing this on your own. Did you think you were just his friend with benefits? Someone he'd come to whenever he wanted to get laid? Hadn't you seen the way his eyes roamed over you whenever you were around? Never fucking heard the despair in his voice when you got shot during that black ops in Afghanistan? How he seemed to loom over your presence if some pathetic muppet tried flirting with you? The nights spent in his bedroom, limbs tangled hearing you speak about your day? The mission when he finally realized he was completely and utterly fucking enamored with you?

That time he wouldn't leave your bedside because you were severely wounded and comatose?

"I am not my old man, kid." He states after a few minutes of silence. "And if it wasn't clear already, I'd do anything for you. I don't know shite about being a parent but I'll try, yeah? For you..." he clears his throat. This was as complicated for him as it was for you. "For both of you, I'll try." The words sound strange coming out of his mouth. You close the space between you and hug him, inhaling his scent. He kisses your temple while rubbing soft circles on your back. Relief washes over your body and the tears stop gradually, until it's just the two holding one another during a raging storm of feelings and nature outside.

Soon the tension, the doubts and the anxiety are replaced with reassurance and loving words.

Promises.

Things you never thought you'd hear.

[cheriladycl01]

None of my Achievements are my Own - Lando Norris x Verstappen! Reader

Plot: Being the little sister of Max Verstappen, Ex Girlfriend of Charles Leclerc and Lando Norris current girlfriend nothing that you do, seems to reflect on you, it’s always one of the men in your life getting the credit.

Coming from a family with the last name Verstappen, made anything you did as a child not good enough.

You won a medal in your swimming class, Max had won 3.

You raised €600 euro selling baked cakes across your village for the local environment agency. Max had raised €2000 for his local karting track to get new tires around the edges for protection and have the track relayed.

They were silly little things but as a kid, you never felt appreciated by your family and it wasn’t just your dad, it seemed to be your mum too. Max and Victoria also never took notice of your feelings on the matter.

As you got older, being cast out and almost ignored by your family caused you to develop Anxiety and stayed in the house for most of your teen years.

You only really left when forced to go to Max’s races as he started progressing his way through the FIA feeder series to get to F1.

“Dad I really don’t want to be here today” you sighed rubbing your shoulder as you kept your headphones half on half off.

“It’s good for you to support your brother, especially as he’s becoming an accomplished young man. I can’t say the same for you” he frowns watching as Max passes you guys on track.

That race shortly ended. You saw Max getting a little heated just after the podium, and you ran over to your older brother to try calm him down.

If there was one thing you were good at it was calming his bad temper down. Not that you ever got the recognition.

“Max, Maxie what’s going on?” You ask running up to him, and seeing the guilty looking boy next to him.

“Next time maybe fucking look” Max seethes at the boy.

“Max calm down. What happened” you ask taking a hold of his arm, but he swats your hand off.

“He nearly made me loose that race from his careless driving” he points at the boy before storming of to your father, no doubt to have him critique the hell out of his race.

“I’m so sorry about him” you admit to the boy bashfully. He was still stood there looking rather awkward.

“It’s fine, he was right. You’re his sister right?” he sighs.

“Yeah- how’d you know?” You ask.

“You always seem to be here with Max and your dad. I don’t think he’d talk to you the way he does if you weren’t his family. I’m Charles by the way” the boy says and that was the start of something really beautiful.

You started dating Charles just as he was announced for F2 in 2016. But when that got into the media, of course it was because of Max that you’d managed to get into a relationship with a future F1 driver.

You thought finally having some independence from your brother would mean you could put a foot out in this world.

But once you left home to move in with Charles, it only seemed like as he progressed to Formula One in 2018, your further achievements were still not your own.

“Max, I’m leaving” you’d told you brother. You’d already had this conversation with your father who had refused at the idea at first, thinking it preposterous of you to leave.

“What do you mean?” He’d asked cocking his head to the side.

“I’m going to live with Charles, I think it’s going to be better for me” you said, looking down, and playing with your fingers.

“What do you mean, better for you” he asks with a frown on his face. Despite what the fans, or media stated Max loved you with his whole heart, and it was a huge heart he loved you with, he however was ignorant to your feelings on independence. But that was also partly your fault for hiding it so well.

“I just want to go do something for me, you know where it’s my name tied to it and I think somewhere new away from everything here is exactly what I need” you explained.

“Your name?” He asks with even more of a frown.

“None of my achievements are my own, or are acknowledged because I’m the sister of Max Verstappen but maybe I just want to be Y/N for a little bit? I want people to notice me for me, and what I’ve done in life. Not just because my last name is Verstappen” you smiled and hoped that day your new life with Charles would be different.

It wasn’t, If anything … it was worse.

You got into University to study engineering, but that was only because you were dating F1 driver Charles Leclerc otherwise you would have gotten into University the minute you turned 18 in 2017. Rather than delaying it till 2019 once Charles had a secure seat in Ferrari.

And when you became an advocate for APM Monaco, it was only because Charles was asked first.

Or once you got a job within McLaren in 2019 it was only because you had a brother driving for RedBull and a boyfriend driving for Ferrari. Not because of your ambition and hard work in your first year of University.

And when Charles proposed to you, you were quick to say yes.

You were ready to get rid of the dreadful Verstappen name, and Y/N Leclerc had a nice ring to it, and maybe once you just became Charles fiancé you’d have some independence.

But that fantasy was of course short lived.

“Charles baby?” You asked coming home from a day at university. You’d come home because a lecturer had failed to turn up so you thought you’d surprise your boyfriend with his favourite meal and some flowers.

You heard some movement in the bedroom making you go up and see a sight that broke your heart.

Your boyfriend of 4 years, fiancé for 1 year in bed with another woman. You couldn’t bare the sight.

“Y/N my love. I - what” he gasps as you’d entered the bedroom.

“H-how long?” You’d asked, it was your first question. We’re you not good enough?

“Ma Cherie, please forgive me I’m so so sorry” he begs getting on his knees and the other girl takes her leave.

And the worst thing of all, you were so hopelessly in love with him, that you nearly did forgive him with that look.

“Nothing I’ve ever done in my life, has ever been because of me. I’ve never got the credit for anything, so this one time… I’m taking the credit for breaking up with you. And you are going to tell everyone how you broke my heart … because I will not have you take this from me” you’d said to him with tears in your eyes, a sense of deja vu from you conversation three years prior with Max.

You broke up with him on the spot not wishing to ever see him again.

After some time of self reflecting and improvement you and Lando, who had joined McLaren at the same time as you and became your close friend decided it was time to be more than friends.

Lando had always kind of held a school boy crush on you since you both started in 2019, but he knew you were untouchable thanks to both your brother and your boyfriend at the time. Being the same age made you guys really close.

Once you’d broken up with Charles, he could see the change in you, there wasn’t that sparkle in your eyes, you always looked pretty vacant when he looked at you when you thought nobody was looking.

He’d watch the way your eyes lit up with fake happiness when someone approached you to talk.

You and Lando started dating at the end of the 2022 season. However when he said he wanted to keep it under wraps for a while you were so excited. It meant you had Landos love and affection but you were free to be you right?

WRONG

Whatever you’d did you were still seen as Max Verstappen’s Sister and the Ex Girlfriend of Charles Leclerc.

However as you and Lando grew as a couple you noticed he was one of the only to acknowledge your achievements even if the fans didn’t.

When you graduated from your masters in 2023 he was there with a bunch of flowers and watched as you walked across the stage being the loudest person cheering you on, well the only person really cheering you on. Your parents and brother didn’t manage to come.

When you started running a charity on the side to help creatures in the ocean stop ingesting so much plastic being thrown into the ocean. He was there at the press conference where you’d announced your invention and how it would help clear up the oceans.

All of the little side quests he did with you, he made sure to promote them as yours as yours alone and he was only tagging alone to watch and support.

Of course there were still haters, thought you were only a product of your birth name and who you’d dated and that’s why you’d been given all these opportunity’s and that you hadn’t worked hard for anything in your life.

Which was beyond false.

“Lando?” You asked one day, you both lying in bed after a stressful race weekend.

“Yes baby?” He asks looking away from his phone and his eyes fully trained on you showing he was paying full attention to you.

“I - I really love you and appreciate you, I just wanted to let you know” you say looking over at him, and he moves back in shock a little, trying not to show it.

“W-what? Where has this come from. I know you love me silly” he laughs looking over you to try determine if there was anything else going on.

“I know I know, I just - my whole life whatever I’ve done was never mine … not until I met you. And I just want you to know that I appreciate the fact that you see … well me” you breathe and as ge listens he looks like he could cry from the things you are saying to him.

He knew your relationship with your brother was strained at best, he saw that from the very start. And he knew you and Charles didn’t exactly end on a happy note but he didn’t realise just how much you’d been not only discredited for but out right stolen off.

“Baby - why did you never tell me” he asks pulling you into him and hugging you while toying with your hair gently.

“I guess I never felt like I had a voice until I met you, because nothing was my own. But I have that with you!” You smile tears brimming your own eyes with how much you love this man in front of you.

“Marry me” he whispers not looking at you, and you think you didn’t hear him correctly.

“What?”

“Marry me. I never want you to feel like that ever again, and I love you more than anything on this planet. I want to show you just how much of a voice you have for the rest of our lives” he offers and you can’t help but just stare at his eyes.

“Yes - Yes” you cry and cling to him like a koala.

You’d finally found your voice and your purpose and that was in Lando Norris.

Taglist:

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[ceilidho]

prompt: ex special forces ghost working as a “travel companion for hire” and reader hires him because she’s too nervous to go solo travelling

-

It’s not the first time you’ve been somewhere on your own, but it’s the first time you’ve realized that maybe solo trips aren’t for you. 

It’s in Germany, three drinks in and stumbling back to your hotel room, paranoia gripping you every time you pass a dark alleyway or take a right onto a deserted street. It’s the man walking your way on the same side of the street that has you stuffing your hand into your purse, clammy fingers gripped tight around your keys. 

On the flight home, you’re wiped. Beat. Finally untethered from a week’s worth of anxiety slowly reaching a boiling point. You’ve traveled on your own before, but it’s the first time you can remember being acutely aware of your vulnerability. Granted, before this trip, it’s not like you’d traveled all that much on your own, especially outside of the country. 

Ghost comes as a recommendation from a friend of a friend. You’d hemmed and hawed about the whole ordeal the Monday after getting home from your trip—working the front desk at an auto-body shop means that there’s no shortage of people to talk to. The guy picking up his car (fender bender, a wicked crack down the front that’s since been fixed) listens to you gripe with an absent look on his face, but you’ve learned to tune those out. People will listen to you even in spite of their indifference when there’s nothing else to do. 

“Y’know, I know a guy that does stuff like that,” he says, cutting you off halfway through another half-baked rant about airline fares these days. Your mouth puckers into something quizzical. Tell me more, it says without saying. “Ex-special forces. Left because of some medical thing, I think. Dunno. Anyway, he’s been all over the world—built like a brick shithouse, that one—and last I heard he was, uh, renting out his services.”

“Services?” 

“Like, he’d go with you, hang back while you do your thing, but basically the muscle. There to back you up if someone fucks with you.”

You’re just fresh enough off your vacation (an entirely miserable week, lest you explain the whole thing all over again) to give him your number. He promises to put you in touch with the friend of a friend who’ll put you in touch with one Simon Riley. He then gives you shit about the price on his bill and you knock ten percent off begrudgingly because the piece of paper with your number written on it is still crumpled in his palm.

No good deed goes unpunished or whatever.

“He’s not actually in the country right now,” Laswell, the friend of a friend, explains over coffee, Biscoff cookies spread out on a little tea plate between the two of you. “Or the continent.”

“Where is he?”

“For the rest of the month? Indonesia. He’s supposed to be back on the ninth. Should I let him know that you’re interested in his services?”

It’s a toss up at first. The thought of sacrificing your dignity (he would be more or less your babysitter) for adventure is tricky. With the way the dates line up—when you plan on traveling and when he gets back to the UK—you also won’t have much time to make his acquaintance before setting off. 

But there are places you want to go, sites you have scribbled down in a pocket-sized notepad folded up in the inner lining of your backpack. So you give her your permission and promise to join her and her wife for dinner sometime (repayment, and also it’s only been a few months since you moved, so you currently have a dearth of friends in your life anyway). 

The first time you see him when he stops by your workplace, you can’t help the double take. It just doesn’t seem possible. You know from Laswell and the guy at the body shop that Ghost is ex-military, but you’d been expecting some buzz-cut, slightly smarmy army reserves guy, maybe six-foot and decently muscled. What you don’t expect is the tatted beast that’s near twice your size. Only the top half of his face is exposed, the rest hidden beneath a black mask; you think briefly of asking him about it, but chicken out under his withering stare.

He doesn’t seem impressed when he meets you. “What’s your list?”

“Um…just around Europe. I haven’t thought about it too much.”

He stares down at you. “You wanna hire me just to run around the continent?”

“I haven’t thought about it!”

“Well, best give it a think fast, doll. Haven’t got all day for you to figure it out.”

You do have to think fast. He doesn’t leave until you’ve spelled out exactly where you want to go, until he’s watched you book plane tickets over your shoulder, heavy at your back while sweat beads at the nape of your neck. He’s entirely too intimidating to be looming over you like that. 

You watch him whip out his phone and fire off a couple of texts; your phone pings with an email telling you that you’ve been reimbursed for his flight and when you protest, he brushes you off by saying that he’ll invoice you for everything at the end of your trip.

Then what was promised falls into place. Free of burden, free of anxiety or restless energy, new possibilities open up to you: countries where you don’t speak the language; countries where the sites you want to see are spread out across a wide enough area that it warrants having a man packed beside you in a too-small taxi, his thigh a hot line against yours; hiking trips through national parks, where you don’t feel like you might slip down a hill and twist your ankle, stuck without water or cell service. 

You only have two weeks worth of vacation, so you use them wisely. A week traveling across Switzerland and Austria, and then a week in Cairo to see the pyramids. 

Ghost hangs back most of the time while you traipse around and do your own thing. You can feel him at your back when you approach the stands where the local vendors have set up shop, perusing silver trinkets and jewelry, only returning to your side when someone stands too close to you. 

He fists a hand in a pickpocket’s shirt when they try for your purse, giving them a shake and sending them off. 

“You didn’t have to do all that,” you mutter in his direction as you watch the young man scurry away. Not sure if you’re blushing or sunburnt. 

“You hired me to deal with this shit my way. Don’t get mouthy now.”

You think it might be the former because while you might not be the best at reapplying sunscreen, Ghost has been gentle-parenting you this whole trip. He pulls you off into corners and growls down at you while squirting a dollop of sunscreen into the palm of his hand to spread across your face. You close your eyes when his rough hands trace over your face and breathe out heavily when he spins you around, big hands engulfing your shoulders and spreading down your back.

You don’t think it could get worse. It gets worse. 

He won’t spring for his own room. You stare at him in disbelief in the lobby of the two star hotel where you’ve booked a room with a single bed. There’s a vending machine in the corner of the lobby that only sells coke (all of the other buttons are broken). One of the ceiling lights flickers on and off, an ominous buzz filling the room. Ghost doesn’t so much as blink.

“You didn’t tell me—I didn’t know that was my job,” you rebuff, anxiety a fist in your throat. You’ve already asked the front desk for another room, but they’ve been sold out for weeks, the woman at the front desk informed you with no small amount of pity. It’s the busy season; even two-star hotels get booked up in the dog days of summer. 

He cocks an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Never had to before. My job isn’t to book shit.”

“I sent you my itinerary.” 

“That’s not how I work, love. Where’s your room?” 

It’s nothing short of humiliating to have him follow you back to your shabby little hotel room. Your hands shake when you unlock the door, opening it to something no bigger than a closet. You’d purposefully gotten a smaller room than you usually would, anticipating the cost of Ghost's invoice at the end of your trip. No good deed goes unpunished. 

He ushers you into the room with a hand on your back, shutting the door behind him. You flick on the only light in the room, a bulbous thing hanging from the ceiling. No bedside lamp. 

When he settles on the end of the only twin bed in the room, the bedframe groans under his weight. Your hands are already clammy. He’s already making himself at home, unbuckling his belt with a single hand; it makes you almost dizzy to look over at him so you try desperately to avert your eyes.

“At least wait until I’m in the other room,” you hiss, rifling through your suitcase faster to get your clothes for after your shower. 

“Quit moping, love,” Ghost scolds, resting back on his elbows and toeing off his boots. “We’ll make it work. Just gonna have to get comfortable together.”

You scurry off to the bathroom with your pajamas clutched tight to your chest, paying no attention to the fact that he doesn’t sound as upset as you thought he might.

[sundeathh]

Random HEADCANONS

MASTERLIST

Featuring: Aizawa • Words: 865

CW: Mentions of anxiety, overprotectiveness that comes off as possessiveness, stress and burnout, insecurities, physical discomfort (nausea and mild bleeding), jealousy, potentially toxic relationships, emotional neglect.

Aizawa hates to drive, seriously. He'll likely just let you drive his car when you two go somewhere together (if you know how to drive and don't mind doing it yourself) since traffic makes him stressed. He gets anxious in traffic jams and might even get nauseous if stuck in one. He also tends to speed. If you don’t know how to drive, he’ll still drive for the two of you when needed, but you’ll have to bear with these manias of his and may want to find a way to make him less stressed while driving. 

He often gets overprotective of you. He tries his best not to but his anxiety gets the best of him sometimes, and he may act on it and make you feel like he's being possessive. If you’re more of an independent and self-sufficient person, you might get annoyed by it sometimes too, as it may seem like he doesn’t trust you enough to take care of yourself. That happens when he doesn’t voice out his concerns properly (which he often doesn’t), but in reality, he's only worried and wants to keep you safe.

He’s a devoted partner but may hurt you unintentionally, especially if you’re not good at voicing your concerns out loud too. He benefits a lot from someone straightforward about feelings that helps make it more clear to him.

He likes to sleep with his head on your chest. It makes him feel secure and it's one of the very few things that puts his mind at ease.

Aizawa has a knack for fixing things around the house. Whether it's a leaky faucet or a malfunctioning appliance, he's the go-to person for household repairs, preferring to handle things himself rather than calling a professional. (Once, he fixed the coffee maker that had stopped heating, for which you had already accepted the fate of simply buying another one.)

Despite his gruff demeanor and rough, calloused hands, Aizawa has a surprisingly tender touch. He's adept at giving soothing massages or comforting hugs, which always makes you feel loved and cared for.

He’s not naive, but because of his fierce loyalty and sense of responsibility, he may get himself stuck in toxic relationships if paired with such people. It might take him a while to get out of it and recover, since he may give in to manipulations for feelings of guilt and responsibility. (Even when he’s just being coerced into believing so). Rationally, he notices when he’s being used or manipulated but struggles not to fall into the trap anyway. But when he’s done, he IS DONE for real. ~shit might get ugly. 

Honestly? He likes to be called 'baby' or 'babe'. He gets all fuzzy inside. (It comes from a deeper need to be cared for that neither he knew he had, due to all the stress he undergoes). But he'll never admit that. “Darling” and “sweetheart” also work sometimes.

Likewise, he'll melt whenever you refer to him as "my man." If you're married, it'll also happen with "my husband."

Shota has a sensitive scalp. If you caress his hair in the right spot, he shivers and goosebumps erupt all over him. It is also a trick you can use to make him fall asleep pretty fast.

He's touch-starved. Really. Just give the man some hugs. (He'll shove anyone that's not that one person off, though).

Aizawa is a man who keeps his hygienic needs in check, but honestly, tidiness is the first thing he neglects when he’s overwhelmed with work. He’s not overly messy, but things will start to pile up if he’s working extra hours. Some not-so-obvious things may also end up going unnoticed by him. (He doesn't remember when it was the last time he washed his capture weapon).

Shota tends to bite or pick on his lips when he is nervous or stressed out, which can cause them to crack and bleed a bit. He gets self-conscious about it from time to time and usually doesn’t notice he’s doing it until it’s already bleeding and he feels the metallic taste in his mouth.

He is jealous of his favorite mug and might get pouty even if it’s you who is using it. He’ll try his very best not to let it show. (It is still clear anyway). Leave the poor man’s mug alone.

He is aware of his good looks but he still feels insecure about his worn out appearance. That's why he gets embarrassed easily if you compliment him about it. (Call him handsome or sexy and you'll have a tomato in front of you).

If he had to choose a flavor, he would say bitter, but he has a slight secret sweet tooth. (HE ATE THE LAST PIECE OF CHOCOLATE CAKE).

Aizawa is good at cooking but he prefers to eat the food you make (he always helps you clean up the dishes after dinner, though). However, if you're sick or feeling more tired than usual, he will refuse to let you do either of those things, and you better not defy him when he tells you to sit your butt on the couch and let him cook for the night. 

Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!

[ldysmfrst]

Incomplete (3) - Something is Wrong...

Paring: Ateez OT8 x Plus-sized FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 3 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 8,272

Word count for Story: 18,866

Genre: Idol Soulmate AU

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This story will contain a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter contains panic attacks, unintentional causing of said panic attack.

Story Summary: Ateez are soulmates who earned their way to Fame once they found each other. What happens when a new pull comes during their Towards The Light World Tour? Does 8 really make 1?

INCOMPLETE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

“This way! It’s underground,” yells San, leading the way to the ladymate. The sea shanty sounded from San loud enough that there was no way his ladymate couldn’t hear it. He wasn't about to lose connection with you this time.

Seonghwa is right on San’s heels. He has felt the loss of the missing soulmate the longest. The feeling, compounded with the loss of his grandfather, propelled him forward. It was almost as if he had to slow down just so that he could follow San. Unlike Yeosang and San, his ability lets him know when a soulmate is nearby and what they are feeling, but he couldn’t use it to search for them. 

Taking the escalator like they were stairs, San and Hwa were closely followed by Yeosang. Seeing the desperation in his oldest soulmate's eyes, he wasn’t about to let go of the silken rope binding him to the ladymate they were closing in on.

Keeping up with his hyungs, Jongho used what he could of his ability to keep his mates focused and not fearful or anxiety-ridden. It wasn’t until San came running back to the museum that Jongho finally believed that this was actually happening—his anticipation building towards having another bonded soulmate soon.

Some sasaengs in the past had figured out Captain's ability and tried to confuse him with it. A few times, they got close enough to him that it caused strange rifts in the group, but after consulting with a specialist, we were informed that if we had a new soulmate, they would have a connection to everyone. There would be no single soulmate connection. 

Hwa, on the other hand, seemed to find someone to keep from somewhere, but they always became good friends. Look at how close his soulmates got with Stray Kids. Hwa would have kept the little blonde Aussie if Chan-hyung had let him– soulmate bond or not. 

Reaching the correct parking garage floor, the group stopped, looked around, and trying to see anyone who could have been affected by what was happening. A few groups were laughing, talking, and having a good time, but none looked aware of people walking by, much less feeling a soulmate bond pull. 

“There, the lady with our tour shirt on and the clear purple bag,” says Yeosang. The other three looked in the direction he was pointing. 

Taking tentative steps forward, Yeosang pulls hard on the invisible rope connecting him to his new soulmate. He smiles when he sees your feet stop moving momentarily before stumbling forward as if resisting him. 

San crescendos the song he made for you, moving closer to you without hesitating once he hears a sweet hum following his tune. San has only seen the back of his new lady soulmate, and he can already tell you are beautiful. 

You have a lush backside with full hips, broad shoulders, shapely legs, and arms with the smoothest-looking skin. Don’t even get him started on your plum rump. 

He and his soulmates joked about all of them being strong but slender until he started going to the gym and Jongho filled out. Now, more than ever, he was happy that he bulked up because this meant he could be your personal mountain.

As they have learned from past mistakes, San must be the first to connect with the new soulmate to initiate the metaphysical bond. Back when San found Hongjoong, Yunho, and Mingi, they introduced themselves as ‘bandmates.’ None of them realized they were soulmates until San hugged them. After that, each mate gained their ability, and everything fell into place rather quickly, with San taking the lead.

San jogs around to stand before you, the woman holding the last piece of their soul. He didn’t expect you to run into him, but you did and quickly snapped out of your trance. You step back, touching his chest with your fingertips brushing the skin of his collarbone. The energy from the bond hits his body like a cannon blast through each fingertip.

When he sees your attempt to walk away, Seonghwa steps up behind you. His natural reaction is to hold his soulmate, placing his warm hands on your chilled skin. Closing his eyes, he lets the chill of the bond form from your skin crash over his body like a tidal wave.

The four fully bonded soulmates can see your confusion, your body seemingly frozen. 

Hwa finally opens his eyes to see everyone is there but hasn’t heard anything from anyone. You aren’t acting like a huge fan. Maybe you aren’t a fan and only have the shirt because you went with some friends who knew them. Surprisingly, this thought makes Hwa sad because, well, they are idols, and a non-fan won’t understand the lifestyle, which could cause problems. 

You go to take a step forward out of Seonghwa’s hold, but he grips just a little tighter. He whispers, “Wait, please.” Looking at San, Hwa nods, prompting him to say anything.

Barley, loud enough to hear, you finally speak, “This isn’t real.”

Your voice sounds like the most beautiful notes in their world. 

Ah, it’s denial, denial we can work with, thinks Jongho as he watches the three soulmates all fawn at you with heart eyes already. 

With a warm, soft, and gentle smile, San steps towards you, the new baby mate, in the hands of his oldest mate and says, “Hello, Miss, I am Choi San. I think the nine of us need to sit down and talk.”

There was a moment of silence before a stuttered, “I… ah… have a plane to catch,” came from your lips. Which slightly confused everyone. Seonghwa, in particular, was confused because either fate had superb timing or something was amiss. 

Jongho, at least has the smarts and tends to be the most level-headed one, asks, “You’re going on vacation now? Or going home?”

She looks at the man who spoke and whispers, “Choi Jongho.”

A smile graces the youngest soulmate; you know his name. This means that you are at least a fan of K-pop, if not a stan of Ateez. 

“Yes, sorry. I am Choi Jongho. It’s nice to meet you,” he introduces himself.

You stare at the three before you, and a giggle sneaks out, but you still haven’t said anything more. This is when the remaining bonded mates join the circle around their new ladymate. 

Unfortunately, this has started to attract the attention of people who pass by. They all understand that their time is limited once they get recognized. While they love Atiny, there is a better time for them to circle and vie for attention because it will become something akin to a shark frenzy. 

“Oh, good! You found her, Sannie,” smiles Wooyoung. While they might not be an ability-match couple, they undoubtedly favored each other, which shows. Woo’s scent blankets the group around the circle, lowering the tensions. 

 “Christmas,” you murmur just above a whisper. 

Joyfully bouncing, Wooyoung smirks, “So you did catch my scent, pretty.” Pretty is the first word that came to his head when you looked at him. You have the prettiest eyes he has ever seen.

“If she caught yours, then she must have felt my anchors,” Yunho comments while holding up Mingi. All the mates notice this and glance down at your ankle, worried that it is still hurting you since Mingi is still limping.  

However, at this point, you had already leaned into Seonghwa, much to his delight. Now, however, you shifted to actually look at him. He watches with a soft, shy smile as your eyes dart across his face. 

At first, he thought you were just accepting of him and the bond. Then he felt the panic building in your body, which was getting unhealthy in his eyes. Then again, any of his soulmates with any amount of panic is considered unhealthy. He concentrated on that feeling and tried to pull it into himself as he did with the others.

Nothing happens. 

Hwa can still feel your emotions' instability. It isn’t working. He keeps trying to use his ability while attempting to remain calm and not add to your current state of disarray. Jongho pushes his ability to try to help keep Hwa from spiraling along with you.

Nothing.

“She hasn’t recognized us yet. We can’t help her. Hongjoong, I can’t,” Seonghwa says with a hint of desperation. His hands gripping your arms as thumbs rub in circles across your bare skin to comfort you.  

He has also pulled you close to his body, not wanting to impose himself on you but offering another form of support. Seonghwa feels it’s the only support you are willing to accept right now.

San and Yeosang move, allowing Hongjoong to join you in the center. His eyes roam your form. Taking a deep breath, he relishes the addition of your Italian Stone pine blend to the rest of the soul mates. It has become the perfect balance with you in the center of it all. 

“Do you know who I am?” questions Hongjoong with concern etched on his features. He knows you recognized the maknae, but it's not surprising, with millions of clips showing him singing like an angel while breaking apples with his bare hands. 

“Captain,” you answer him with a shaky tone. 

Pleased that you seem to be an Atiny, his eyes narrow as a smirk shows, “That is one of the many names Atiny uses, and it is my title. However, my soulmates don’t use that name unless we are in front of a camera. I am Kim Hongjoong, the second oldest of the Ateez soulmate bond.”

They watch you as you rapidly look at the rest of the members. They each agree with nods or hums. It's not common knowledge that Ateez is a bonded soulmate group. They have tried to keep it private. 

Seonghwa gets ripples of happiness and relief from everyone.

“Soulmate bond? A whole group bond?” you question.

Nodding, Hongjoong answers, “The group of us, yes but I wouldn’t say we are whole yet. Boys…”

It’s then all attention is back on you. Everyone with a usable ability focuses on you, trying to get you to recognize the bond. 

San starts your song back up.

Wooyoung scents the air heavily with his Mugo pine. 

Yeosang pulls on the plaited silk rope and attempts to double its thickness. 

Seonghwa and Jongho work together to help you escape your panicked state. They try to clear your mind of emotions so that you may think clearly and understand who they are to you.

“No. No, nonononoo,” you say, pulling away from Seonghwa and dropping to your knees as you continue to mumble, “Something is wrong, or I must be dreaming.” 

“Y/n!” says a woman from just outside the circle.

San, ever the protector, with Jongho at his side, blocks the woman from getting near you. Their eyes glance at the guards, who start to make their way over. Hongjoong made a mental note to find out who let this woman get this close. 

“Y/n! Excuse me, not to be rude, but let me get to my friend before she passes out,” another woman, closer to your age, demands.

The first woman steps up almost chest to chest with San, shaking off the guard who attempted to grab her wrist and says, “Back off or I will make you. I don’t care how famous you are.”

Hongjoong considers the seriousness of the two women who demand to get closer to you. He noticed they also wear concert merchandise and seemed to know your name. 

With a nod, Jongho and San move enough to allow them to rush to your side. The two soulmates turn back to the center and close the gap. The privacy of what is happening is imperative, and it gets more challenging as the gathering crowd grows. 

Joining you, kneeling on the parking garage floor, the bonded males watch as the women murmur to you calmly. They sound like they are coaching your breathing.

After some time, the feisty one stands to look at the members of Ateez and the gathering crowd. Turning to Hongjoong, she says, “I don’t know what your attention is with Y/n, but remaining here will just make her worse.”

“I would agree. We need to talk to her, but I am afraid that she won’t hear what we are saying,” laments Hongjoong, his eyes never leaving your kneeled form, blanketed by the younger of the two friends. 

One of the bodyguards steps away from the human barricade that has formed around the eleven of you and says, “Sir, we have access to the conference room at the hotel if you wish to move there.”

“Thank you.” Hongjoong breaks his gaze on your form to meet that of the more forceful, older, leader-like friend: “We are staying at the hotel right around the corner. Maybe we can all talk there; I am sure she will need someone familiar with her right now.”

“What about our flight?” questions the younger and current human-esque blanket friend.

“That’s right. She mentioned she had a flight to catch. Do you three not live here?” San questioned.

They are all holding their breath because this time is very delicate for the nine soulmates. Breaking the bond that started with San and Seonghwa would permanently disable them. For the others who haven’t, they will have a permanent, hollow feeling in their chest. 

The leader-like friend answered, “Kat and I don’t live here anymore. We live in Oregon. Y/n lives here. We have a flight in about 4 hours to return home.”

“Excuse me, Miss.” Seonghwa politely gains the attention of the leader-like friend. “We really must speak with your friend. Our manager will help you change your flight, and I will personally cover any fees or additional costs if you would come with us. Please?”

The two friends share an unspoken conversation. Finally, the older one turns to address Seonghwa, “Fine. BUT! We are not doing this because of who you are. You are requesting this meeting. You are causing whatever is happening to Y/n to happen. You will fix it. Understood?”

Nodding with a smile, Seonghwa agrees, “Of course, Miss. We take full responsibility for anything that happens with Y/n moving forward.”

“How many cars did you come in, Miss?” asks Jongho.

Both friends point to the rental car just a few feet away. “We were already getting in the car when you surrounded our friend. My name is Cindy, by the way. That is Kat, my only child. Y/n has been a family friend and a second child to me for almost 15 years.”

“Thank you, Cindy and Kat. I promise we will explain everything in the conference room,” Seonghwa says with another toothy smile. “Can I ride with you to the hotel? I can show you where to park, or you can follow the vans.”

“Hwa…” Jongho says softly, knowing that his match will keep trying to pull you to a calming center and wear himself down doing so. 

The eldest soulmate sends Jongho a pleading look. It’s a broken look filled with hope and desperation, almost palpable, to do something to strengthen the connection between himself and you. The youngest nods in understanding. Hwa has to do this, or it will break him apart. 

Looking at the trio in the middle, Jongho continues, “Hwa is the best choice right now to accompany Y/n. It wouldn’t be wise to leave her unattended.”

Cindy’s eyes narrow at Jongho before she reluctantly says, “Fine. You can go with us,” she relents suspiciously, looking at Seonghwa. “It’s a small car. You will have to sit in the front.”

“It’s settled. Hwa will go with you. The rest of us will go in the van,” Hongjoong says, pointing to the blacked-out, large passenger van that has pulled up with two additional cars. “The guards will be in the cars. When you pull out, Miss Cindy, it would be a good idea to follow between our van and the last guard car.”

“You got it, Captain,” says Cindy.

The drive literally around the block feels like it takes way too fast, but at the same time, it takes forever. The distance between the van and the car is almost too much for San, but since he is surrounded by 6 of his bonded mates, he can handle it. 

Seonghwa, on the other hand, tries his best to sit in the front seat while angling himself to at least see you the whole trip. He politely answers simple questions from Cindy without giving away too much information while you are still seemingly not present.

Once the boys make it to the hotel, all but San quickly move to the conference room. 

Hongjoong speaks with security to ensure they have started to figure out options for when it's time to go to the venue. He needs to know that you will be safe when not in the sight of one of the soulmates.

Wooyoung and Yunho started gathering water and sweets for you because they remembered all the warnings they got when Mingi went on his hiatus. The sugar will keep you from dropping worse, and staying hydrated during this time is vital. 

Mingi was forced into a chair despite his protests to help by Yeosang and Jongho. His limping from your injury has gotten worse, and they need both of you to stop hurting. Not only did watching the two of you in pain hurt their hearts, but it would affect their performance tonight.

San stayed in the garage, waiting for Cindy to park the car. Once he heard the engine cut, he ran to your side of the car and helped you out. You either didn’t seem to know it was him, or the feel of the bond was lending to your acceptance of his help. 

Seonghwa quickly exited and joined San, walking you into the building and the conference room. Glancing back to make sure the two friends were following. At the door, they were greeted by Hongjoong, their manager, and the head of their bodyguards.

Turning to San, Cindy, and Kat, Hongjoong instructs, “Please make your way inside. The boys have set up some refreshments. Hwa and Cindy, I believe the two of you need to speak with manager-nim to figure out the flight situation, and then you can join us.”

Kat and San nod, then guide you into the conference room with Hongjoong in tow.

“Miss Cindy, this is our main manager,” Seonghwa introduces the man standing in a simple suit and then gestures to the man dressed as a classic bouncer. “and here is our head of security.”

“Hello, I am Cindy. The other person with the short hair is Kat, and we are close friends with y/n. I guess we need to discuss the flight with you,” Cindy points to the manager. “Is there something else?” she questions, looking at the bodyguard.

The guard says, “Firstly, meeting such a protective friend is a pleasure. There are so many fake friends in the world today. Y/n is lucky to have the two of you, and it will be our job to keep the three of you safe.”

“We are in danger?!?” Cindy’s eyes widen at the new information.

Shaking his hands in protest, Seonghwa explains, “It isn’t that you are in danger. The crowd in the parking garage followed us. Your pictures will be online and in the tabloids. KQ will do its best to keep them out. However, in the meantime, we would be remiss not to ensure you are not disturbed between now and when you reach home.”

“Oh,” Cindy says with a bit of unease. “Um… Thank you for the concern, but won’t bodyguards just draw more attention to us?”

“That is where Mathew comes in,” the head of security says, gesturing to someone. A few seconds later, there is a guy dressed in emo-looking clothes. He looks Asian but not simultaneously; his eyes are crystal blue, and he has an undercut hairstyle. 

“Mathew is one of the few of our team that tracks with stealth and blending in. He will join your group of friends and pose as either a boyfriend, friend, or brother to Kat, as they are close in age,” informs the guard.

“Wow, um. Okay. Well, that would be for Kat to decide. If Kat is comfortable with it, so am I,” Cindy says with determination. Mathew nods and heads into the conference room to speak with Kat. 

“Miss Cindy, thank you again for your adaptability during this time,” smiles Seonghwa genuinely, almost short-circuiting Cindy’s brain for a second. 

“You gotta stop doing that for now,” warns Cindy, confusing Hwa and causing his manager to laugh. “I am the first Atiny of the group. I knew of your group before your debut and have been trying to see you in concert since then. You are not my bias, but still, it's overwhelming when you smile like that.”

Hwa’s eyes widen briefly with an ‘o’ of his lips before he smiles again, “Sorry, I will try not to smile too much. If I am not your bias, may I know who is?”

Cindy narrows her eyes at him, so he clarifies, “I can warn them to take it easy on you during the meeting for now, though I can’t promise once you are back home if any of us will. It seems to be a game for the younger ones to try and steal fans.”

“I see. Well, you don’t have to warn anyone right now. I know who I should avoid, and warning them will give me more ammo,” Cindy giggles. 

“Seonghwa-ssi, Hongjoong-ssi said something about covering expenses?” interrupts the manager.

“Yes, Cindy and Kat will miss their flight home. I agreed to cover their change-of-flight expenses. I will also cover their meals, transportation to LAX, and their stay in the hotel tonight,” says Seonghwa with a voice that tells everyone there is no other option.

“Very well,” the manager says. Reaching into his inner coat pocket, he pulls out a credit card and hands it to Cindy, “This is Seonghwa-ssi’s KQ expenses card. When you reach home, please return it to Mathew. If you two require anything between now and then, please purchase it with this card.”

“Seonghwa, you don’t have to. It’s fine. We can stay with relatives and take care of ourselves. Just helping with the tickets is sufficient,” Cindy says, taken back by the offer. 

“It’s not that you can, Miss Cindy. It’s because I want to care for those who care for Y/n. It’s the least I can do in thanks to you being here,” pleads Seonghwa with almost puppy eyes.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you are hard to say no to?” questions Cindy with a smirk. Seonghwa laughs. “Fine. Thank you for the expense card. I will also save any receipts. Let me get you the flight information.”

Seeing that Cindy has finally agreed to everything, Seonghwa nods to both of them and enters the conference room. He sees that his bonded mates have sat to the far side of the room, allowing you to have unblocked access to the doors. 

Kat is sitting at your side, having accepted cookies and water. Reaching out with his ability, Hwa can feel that you are calmer. Your skin has taken on a healthier hue. Your form also seems more relaxed as you converse quietly with your friend. 

Hwa decides to walk over to the refreshment table to get water for himself and stand leaning against the wall. He wants to sit next to you. In all honesty, he wants you to sit in his lap but doesn’t want to crowd you like that. 

It isn’t long before Cindy and the manager walk in and sit around the table. What shocks Hwa is Cindy’s choice to sit next to Kat and not on your other side. Cindy raises her eyebrow at Seonghwa and tilts her head towards the chair with a soft smile, which makes Hwa blush slightly. 

Taking the hint, Seonghwa sits in the chair beside you, and the room becomes quiet. You look around the room, seemingly taking in everyone here– Ateez, the staff, and your friends, but you still say nothing. 

“I guess I will start,” Hongjoong said, leaning forward in his seat at the head of the conference room. All eyes turned to him. “Miss Y/n, Miss Cindy, and Miss Kat, I am sure you know by now that we are Ateez, but many don’t know that we are a bonded soulmate group.”

“We each have abilities but haven’t gained our completion mark. About two years ago, we had all discussed that we most likely would never find all of our soulmates and become a complete bond. However, we know now that that isn’t the case,” informs Hongjoong as his eyes never stray from you. 

You look at the captain like he should have more to say for a few moments before they watch you glance around the room again. Your emotions start to rise in trepidation. Seonghwa quickly looks between you and Jongho. 

Jongho sees his companion’s movements and sends out a sense of calmness. To the rest of the soulmates, this feels like a blanket covering them in cool comfort. 

“You…Okay… How…” you seem to be at a loss of words. 

Kat shakes her head. Taking your hand, she speaks for you, asking, “Are you suggesting that Y/n is your missing soulmate?”

“Yes,” declares Hongjoong. 

“Ladies,” Seonghwa starts. “We think you, y/n, are our missing soulmate for several reasons. It’s my fault that we didn’t connect with you sooner.”

Turning to face him, you interrupt, asking, “What do you mean sooner? What reasons? Why me? I am no one.”

“That won’t do,” speaks up Mingi with a growl. “You are not nor will you ever be a ‘no one,’ Y/n. Please do not speak of yourself so negatively. Let Hwa explain further; maybe you will understand what is happening.”

As you look down at your lap, everyone can see your cheeks have been painted rosy pink. Cindy and Kat find humor in your reaction to Mingi and snicker. If Hwa weren’t sitting next to you, he would have missed you smack Kat on the leg in protest. 

Over the next almost hour, Seonghwa explains everything from the forming of Ateez to the events during their filming while in California for Coachella and ending with the concert. Another bonded mate would jump in to clarify or add information a few times. 

“So once San could pin you at the museum, we couldn’t miss you again. It would have broken us more than we could ever explain,” finishes Hwa. 

The boys sit and wait, watching as you take in the information. It worries them because you never reacted to anything they said during the whole spiel. They would look to Jongho a few times, who just shook his head, indicating that he wasn’t the one dampening your reaction. 

Cindy shifts in her seat before she says, “I want to make things clear for you and Y/n.” Taking a deep breath, Cindy looks to y/n, who slightly nods, then focuses back on her lap, still quite like a mouse.

Excited to learn something about you, the soulmates lean into their bond. One thing is for sure– they weren’t prepared for what Cindy had to tell them.

He did, didn’t he? 

He said he was Choi San.

Choi San wants to talk to you. Wait, no. He said the nine of us wanted to talk.

“I... ah… have a plane to catch,” you stumble out. Your mind is still considerate of your friends, who were like family to you. You watch as confusion graces the mountain of a man in front of you.

A voice to your right asks, “You’re going on vacation now? Or going home?”

Following the voice, you look to see who it is, and with a whisper, you say, “Choi Jongho.”

When you recognize the youngest member of Ateez, a smile graces his face as he introduces himself: “Yes, sorry. I am Choi Jongho. It’s nice to meet you.”

You nod with wide eyes as your hands start to shake.

This isn’t real.

There is no way.

Looking to the left, you see none other than Kang Yeosang. You cannot believe how cute he is up close. You giggle to yourself, thinking of all the Tic Toks of Yeosang saying, ‘I’m not cute,’ flutter through your brain because nothing right now is making sense.

Words are not coming. 

You think you are going crazy as the delulu is finally manifesting in hallucinations now.

Breathing is happening because it is autonomic. 

“Oh good! You found her Sannie,” another voice joins as you look past Yeosang to see the twerk prince himself, Jung Wooyoung.

When he gets closer, you are enveloped with the scent you smelled in the Grammy Museum. “Christmas,” you murmur just above a whisper. 

The playful member smiles broadly and bounces in place, “So you did catch my scent, pretty.”

“If she caught yours, then she must have felt my anchors,” the tallest man you have seen in a long time speaks up while holding his “twin.” 

At this point, your breathing has turned shallow. Unconsciously, your body starts leaning into the body behind you. You are not trying to run, but your mind and body are unsure of what is happening, what to do, and what to say.

All you know is that you would be on the floor without the man at your back. Speaking of the man at your back, you shift slightly to get a better look at him, and it’s like the world stops. 

That is Park Seonghwa… like THE Park Seonghwa. Mars. Hwaseong. Angry Bird.  Mama Hwa. 

Your bias. 

The one where you have an unhealthy amount of concert photos focused on the handsome beauty from the concert less than 24 hours before. 

“She hasn’t recognized us yet. I can’t help her. Hongjoong, I can’t,” Seonghwa says with a hint of desperation. His hands grip your arms, thumbs rubbing in circles across your bare skin, pulling you close.

It’s like the sea parts when San and Yeosang break the inner circle that has formed around you to allow Kim Hongjoong to join you in the center. His eyes are roaming your form. It’s like he is not looking at you but into you, at the who of who you are. 

It’s an uncanny feeling that you start getting dizzy from. 

“Do you know who I am?” questions the leader.

“Captain,” you answer with a shaky tone. 

His eyes narrow as a smirk shows, “That is one of the many names Atiny uses, and it is my title. However, my soulmates don’t use that name unless we are in front of a camera. I am Kim Hongjoong, the second oldest of the Ateez soulmate bond.”

You swallow and rapidly look at the rest of the members. They each agree with nods or hums. This is new information for you. You, after all, are a new stan of Ateez, a baby Atiny, and figured there was so much that you didn’t know.

“Soulmate bond? A whole group bond?” you question, feeling your skin vibrate. To begin with, soulmate bonds were challenging to find, but having a group bond to this extent was rare. 

Nodding, Hongjoong answers, “The group of us, yes, but I wouldn’t say we are whole yet. Boys…” It’s then that everyone is looking back on you. 

You hear the song start back up in your head from before it takes over all other mental tabs you had open.

The scent of Christmas trees becomes a whole forest, almost too much.

The thick rope around your chest is back and tighter, pulling you to the left, but you struggle against it.

The panic ebbs and wanes within you like a riptide.

“No. No, nonononoo,” you say, pulling away from Seonghwa, causing the boys to step back out of reflex. Everything stops. Silence rings in your ears, all scent has vanished, and nothing is holding you to yourself, much less to Earth anymore. 

Dropping to your knees, you mumble, “Something is wrong… must be dreaming.” 

“Y/n!” a familiar female voice comes from somewhere. Your ears pop as your brain kicks back online, and the natural environment around you floods in. It’s too much all at once but not enough of what you need. 

What is it that you need, though? Something is missing again. You paw at the ground, almost like you are looking for something or ensuring Earth is still below you. Your breathing rapidly increases as your vision starts to fade in and out. 

You are having a panic attack.

Again.

The first panic attack you ever had was why you missed going to Coachella. You ate lunch at this little hole-in-the-wall diner you loved, but it made you sick. Then, the rest of that week, any time you went near it, it was like your body remembered being sick and would kick you into a panic attack like you had PTSD or something. So you avoided it altogether, which wasn’t hard because the area was shut off for filming.

During the first Coachella weekend, you still had a headache from everything. Your doctors also suggested avoiding large crowds or anything non-routine for a bit. You still were getting symptoms like hyperventilating, getting dizzy, and having chest pains. You swore it was like your insides were hollowing out. You ended up in the ER, and they said it was just a panic attack.

You had to deny helping with Coachella the second weekend, even with the bonus pay, because you were scared you would be more in the way than helpful, especially with this new panic attack issue. The medications they gave you weren’t helping much either. 

“Y/n! Excuse me, not to be rude, but let me get to my friend before she passes out,” you hear another voice, but everything sounds like you are underwater. 

The first voice sounds closer, saying, “Back off, or I will make you. I don’t care how famous you are.”

Joining you, kneeling on the parking garage floor, Cindy and Kat take their time speaking to you calmly. They coach you into breathing exercises, bringing you slowly out of the dark pit you had started to spiral into. Both knew about the panic attacks, and Kat had them as well. Kat was a fantastic source of advice when you first got the diagnosis.

Seeing that you were improving, Cindy stood and looked at the members of Ateez plus the gathering crowd. Turning to Hongjoong, she says, “I don’t know what your intention is with Y/n, but remaining here will just make her worse.”

“I would agree. We need to talk to her, but I am afraid that she won’t hear what we are saying in her current state of mind,” says Hongjoong, his eyes never leaving you.

One of the men dressed in all-black suits steps away from the human barricade that has formed around the eleven of you and says, “Sir, we have access to the conference room at the hotel if you wish to move there.”

“Thank you.” Hongjoong breaks his gaze on you to talk to Cindy, offering, “We are staying at the hotel right around the corner. Maybe we can all talk there; I am sure she will need someone familiar with her right now.”

“What about our flight?” questions Kat, still grounding you in their arms.

“That’s right. She mentioned she had a flight to catch. Do you three not live here?” San questioned.

The feisty friend answered, “Kat and I don’t live here anymore. We live in Oregon. Y/n lives here. We have a flight in about 4 hours to return home.”

“Excuse me, Miss.” Seonghwa politely gains Cindy’s attention. “We really must speak with your friend. Our manager will help you change your flight, and I will personally cover any fees or additional costs if you would come with us. Please?”

Cindy and Kat share an unspoken conversation. Finally, Cindy turns to Seonghwa, “Fine. BUT! We are not doing this because of who you are. You are requesting this meeting. You are causing whatever is happening to Y/n to happen. You will fix it. Understood?”

Nodding and smiling, Seonghwa agrees, “Of course, Miss. We take full responsibility for anything that happens with Y/n moving forward.”

“How many cars did you come in, Miss?” asks Jongho.

They point out the rental car just a few feet away. “We were already getting in the car when you surrounded our friend. My name is Cindy, by the way. That is Kat, my only child. Y/n has been a family friend and a second child to me for almost 15 years.”

“Thank you, Miss Cindy and Miss Kat. I promise we will explain everything in the conference room,” Seonghwa says with another toothy smile. “Can I ride with you to the hotel? I can show you where to park, or you can follow the vans.”

“Hwa…” Jongho says softly but seems to stop at the pleading look he gets from Seonghwa. “Hwa is the best choice right now to accompany Y/n. It wouldn’t be wise to leave her unattended.”

Cindy’s eyes narrow at the choice of wording. Her mind is trying to piece together what is going on. “Fine. You can go with us,” she relents suspiciously, looking at Seonghwa. “It’s a small car. You will have to sit in the front.”

“It’s settled. Hwa will go with you. The rest of us will go in the van,” Hongjoong says, pointing to the blacked-out vehicles. “The guards will be in the cars. When you pull out, Miss Cindy, it would be a good idea to follow between our van and the last guard car.”

“You got it, Captain,” says Cindy.

With a hovering Seonghwa, Kat helps you stand and takes you to the car. She tries to get you to laugh by telling you that MamaHwa is looking at her with puppy eyes. You can only concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other right now.

Once in the car, you still feel a softer pull on your chest. It is nowhere near what it was before or while Ateez surrounded you, but it was still there. 

Kat sits as a quiet reminder that this is real. You keep your eyes downcast because you can feel Seonghwa’s eyes on you, and you are nervous about looking at him.

On the other hand, Cindy can’t stand the tension in the car. “So Seonghwa, you have connected to her, haven’t you?”

Not looking away from you, he answers, “You could say that, but I would prefer to discuss that with everyone together.”

“You still have a concert tonight. This meeting is going to have to be a quick one. I am not sure she will be able to process everything as quickly as you want her to,” comments Cindy. “She keeps herself guarded. I guess it is good that there are eight of you then.”

“We will all be there for her. As I said before, she is our responsibility from now on,” says the man sitting in the front seat, as if the world had just given him a significant gift wrapped in the most complex box he had ever seen. 

Soon, you feel the car stop moving, automatically prompting you to unbuckle your seatbelt. Your door opens before you can get it, and a hand appears. You glance up to see that it is San. You feel your body want to move to him, almost as if he was a magnet. 

You hear your mom in your head say, “Following your instincts, Y/n. It is your greatest gift.” With this in mind, you place your hand in his. The second you connect with him, the song in your head becomes clearer but softens, granting your mind a chance to relax. 

Once out of the car, you look around, noting that everyone else has also gotten out, and Seonghwa is now standing next to you. The two men walk you into the building and guide the small group to the conference room. 

At the door, they were greeted by Hongjoong, their manager, and the head of their bodyguards. Seeing the leader again sends shivers down your spine, but nothing happens. 

Hongjoong instructs, “Please make your way inside. The boys have set up some refreshments. Hwa and Cindy, I believe the two of you need to speak with manager-nim to figure out the flight situation, and then you can join us.”

When you enter the small conference room with Kat, San, and Hongjoong, the feeling in your chest almost completely disappears. You can’t help but smile a little at the looks of anticipation and worry that grace the faces of one of the most popular K-pop groups you have ever known. 

“You can go ahead and sit here,” offers Yunho as he pulls out the chair in front of you. “We figured it may be the most comfortable spot for you. Your friends can sit next to you as well.”

You nod and smile at their consideration of not trapping you in the room. They don’t know that you aren’t one to run when you freak out, but their actions bring their own sense of security and trust. 

A water bottle appears next to you as someone opens it and sets it down. Looking up, you see Wooyoung smiling, “Please drink some water. We also have cookies, candies, and brownies for you to eat, or we can order anything you like.”

“Thank you,” you say softly. “I could go for a cookie. Anything without oats or cocoa, please.”

Hongjoong is the closest to the platter of cookies and plates up two peanut butter, two white chocolate chip macadamia nuts, and two Snickerdoodle cookies. He brings them over with napkins and places them between you and Kat. 

“I put two of everything on the plate for you and Kat. These are all the non-cocoa-based cookies over there. I hope there is something you like in the bunch,” he says. 

You glance at Kat, who is smiling from ear to ear because their bias just served them cookies. You shake your head, grab a white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookie, and start eating it as someone else walks in and takes up a corner to lean against. 

Kat giggles and tells the man of their K-pop dreams: “For someone who knows nothing about Y/n, you sure know how to find her favorites.” 

Kat then took one of the peanut butter ones to eat, and Hongjoong smirked with confidence and sat at the head of the table.

Leaning towards Kat, you ask, “Where is Cindy and Seonghwa?”

“They are outside dealing with the flight situation,” informs Kat, leaning closer to you. “How are you doing?”

“I feel like I entered a Twilight Zone episode,” you breathe out, taking another bite of the cookie and glancing at the men in the room. Some of them catch your eyes while they are talking amongst themselves. “This is real, right?”

“Umhumm, you have the dream of almost every Atiny in the world. You have caught the attention of Ateez,” smirks Kat. 

“I don’t want Ateez's attention,” you whisper. “I will bring them nothing good.”

Kat stares at you, “Y/n. Be real yourself right now. Just wait to see what they have to say.”

You go to respond but hear the door of the conference room open, and Seonghwa enters, walking to the table with the snacks. What surprises you is the fact that he stays there. You look at Kat with furrowed brows and then back at Seonghwa.

“Why is he over there?” you question in hushed tones. It was really meant just to be for yourself, but loud enough, Kat hears and chokes a little on their water. 

“Is someone getting attached to their bias?” says Kat teasingly. 

“Oh, hush you,” you try not to blush at the comment. “He wouldn’t stop looking at me in the car and, well, you were there! Why the distance now?”

“Don’ know, maybe he is giving the others a chance to get close,” suggests Kat.

It isn’t long before Cindy and the manager walk in and sit around the table. Cindy sits next to Kat, and the manager sits next to Hongjoong. Once the room starts to settle, Seonghwa sits in the chair beside you, and the room becomes quiet. 

You look around the room, seemingly taking in everyone here– Ateez, the staff, and your friends, but you still say nothing. 

“I guess I will start.” Hongjoong leans forward as all eyes turn to him. “Miss Y/n, Miss Cindy, and Miss Kat, I am sure you know by now that we are Ateez, but many don’t know that we are a bonded soulmate group.”

“We each have abilities but haven’t gained our completion mark. About two years ago, we had all discussed that we most likely would never find all of our soulmates and become a complete bond. However, we know now that that isn’t the case,” informs Hongjoong as his eyes are locked on yours.

You look at the captain like he should have more to say for a few moments before you glance around the room again, waiting for someone else to chime in. Your mind is reeling with several possibilities and a barrage of negative conclusions. 

You are on the verge of spiraling again when it feels like a blanket of comfort covers you. It’s a coolness to your skin but a stillness of your mind that you can’t help leaning into. 

“You…Okay… How…” you attempt to say, but you are at a loss. You have questions to ask and things to say that all want to come out at once, but you can’t seem to organize them in a way that makes sense.

Taking your hand, Kat shakes her head, asking, “Are you suggesting that Y/n is your missing soulmate?”

“Yes,” declares Hongjoong. 

Your heart shudders at the declaration. There has to be something else. There has to be another thing it could be. You glance at Kat as they give you that look again, the one that says to wait and see what they have to say. 

“Ladies,” Seonghwa starts. “We think you, y/n, are our missing soulmate for several reasons. It’s my fault that we didn’t connect with you sooner.”

You turn to face him. Your thoughts finally in an order you interrupt, asking, “What do you mean sooner? What reasons? Why me? I am no one.”

“That won’t do,” Mingi's deep voice says. “You are not nor will you ever be a ‘no one,’ Y/n. Please do not speak of yourself so negatively. Let Hwa explain further; maybe you will understand what is happening.”

Feeling like you just got scolded by one of the hottest rappers in the world, you look down at your lap, attempting to hide the blush from the room. It isn’t the first time you have been told that you do not hold yourself in a good light, but hearing it from him brings on a new form of embarrassment. 

Cindy and Kat start snickering at your reaction to Mingi, and you smack Kat on the leg in protest. They know of your newfound attraction to the second-tallest member and are seemingly more at ease with this situation than you are. 

Over the next almost hour, Seonghwa explains everything from the forming of Ateez to the events during their filming while in California for Coachella and ending with the concert. Another bonded mate would jump in to clarify or add information a few times. 

“So once San could pin you at the museum, we couldn’t miss you again. It would have broken us more than we could ever explain,” finishes Hwa. 

You force yourself not to react to anything they say or interrupt during the whole spiel. About halfway through the information dump, the blanket pulls away, but you can maintain yourself just fine. 

You have put together that your panic attacks started because you almost met Seonghwa at the hole-in-the-wall diner. Then you had the chance to meet them all at Coachella twice. You also could have met them walking around town while they were filming. So many missed chances to meet them. 

Cindy shifts in her seat before she says, “I want to make things clear for you and Y/n.” Taking a deep breath, Cindy looks at you. You know what she wants to say, and she isn’t wrong to tell them because if they don’t hear it now, then they won’t understand.  

You hesitantly nod, then focus back on your lap, remaining quiet as you prepare your mind for rejection, yelling, coarse words, and any other harsh reaction they had every right to have. You didn’t see the looks of anticipation on their faces.  

Kat takes your hands in theirs and nods to Cindy, knowing the next part of the meeting won’t be easy.

With a serious look, Cindy meets each of their eyes before she stops at Seonghwa and says, “Y/n…Y/n’s soulmate was murdered June 15, 2016– on her 18th birthday.”

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[sillygoosealert]

Both arms cradle you now (Before you're wrapped in cloth)

ANGST, DEATH, comfort and fluff in the beginning !! (trust me..)

There is no one to relate to you. You feel so much and let it fill you, eventually becoming your only defying trait. Some even knew you as the girl who will always be forgotten at best and Sukuna's second option at worst. If you were forgotten, you were just like others. If you were a second option, you just weren't good enough.

But as your thoughts consume you, knowing the people around you stare with something close, but not quite pity. Someone sits beside you while you're self-loathing in the tea house.

It was raining not too long ago, hence why you chose to get under somewhere covered instead of the many benches and grassy spots across the garden.

When you look beside you, you see a radiant girl with a smile that stretches ear to ear. Saying anything else about her appearance is difficult, as trying to remember her face is just a blur.

She was close to being the Great Sukuna's second wife but came just 3rd place when next to you and Haruko. In your opinion, she was better than you. Loads more optimistic than you if you were asked to be more specific.

She was humming something absentmindedly, tapping her fingers against her lap.

"Did you ever think about your future with Sukuna? With and without him having a seconded wife," There's no eye contact when she asks that, just more humming and admiring the wet landscape.

"A little. But I don't have a say in how most things go, so I don't get my hopes up."

"I think you have more of a say than you realize," She pauses before going on.

"The garden always looks so pretty when it rains, more comforting." You snort at that, knowing you wouldn't be out here if you knew it would rain.

"I'm glad you have something positive to say about it. I think it's too melancholy," Relaxing a little, you take another look at her, soaking in the smile still plastered on her face.

"Did you ever fantasize about being the wife of Sukuna?" At the moment, you immediately want to take back your words, but you're glad you asked. It's nice to keep talking to her.

"Much more than I'd tell. I wanted a cute room with a baby and a garden just for the three of us. I even picked out baby names- boy and girl."

"Sounds like you had it planned out."

"We did. If only I could know what I know now," She says with a shakey voice, and when you look over, her eyes are wet with tears; that's your clue not to pry anymore.

"I notice your eyes gloss over when he's with Haruko. I want you to know I see you," Now she's looking at you, and you bring yourself to look right back at her.

"Do you know what it's like to mourn something and not know what it is at the same time?" You choke out.

"Yes, I do," She smiles at that, and while your eyes can't reciprocate it, you smile back.

"I'm not sure how someone with so many eyes can't see he's hurting you. I don't think I could ever treat you so negligently if you were my wife," That makes you giggle, in turn letting a few tears fall from your eyes.

"Really?"

"Really. I wouldn't take you for granted by getting a second wife," Those words remind you that there was a time when it was just you and Sukuna. Nothing in his behavior has changed off the top of your head, but seeing him so easily give that affection to someone else still stings.

"I think I need to go. Goodbye," With that, she stands up, not adorning a big smile anymore, but a more standard look for someone who has gone through nothing but hurt. You probably won't see her anymore, as the look in her eyes tells you something has died- most likely her hope. It reminds you of going through so many remedies for anxiety only to realize it won't go away. Nothing stopped your overthinking, and nothing most likely will.

You make your way to Sukuna's room, now with a new perspective on how you see yourself.

But your thoughts get cloudy when you're sat with him in the room.

"I don't want to be with you," the words come out much blunter than you meant them to, but he responds before you can say anything else.

"Wherever you have found this new confidence, leave it," He gets up to leave.

"You have another wife. Are you that selfish you must have two?" This makes him turn around.

"Selfish? You have everything you could ever need. You dare to call me selfish?" He scoffs, getting closer to you.

"The nightstand that was custom made for you, in my room? The paintings across the halls, for you? The garden I had made for you?"

"Was I the one in mind, or were those choices made after you weren't satisfied with one wife? I never wanted half of the things forced into my hands. I wanted you to listen to me. You used to," And with that, he grabs you off the bed and shoves you to the ground.

"I still have to listen to you. Name one time I didn't."

"I asked to spend a day with you in the garden. I spent the day with you and Haruko in the garden."

"You got what you asked. Give a better example and a reason I should listen."

"I asked for pink Daisies by the fountain in the garden. You put the white ones, Haruko, couldn't stop raving over by the fountain in the front and the pink ones in the back." His eyes widen, and he opens his mouth.

"You're jealous," It sounds like he's in disbelief, but you know he's mocking you in his own way.

"Of course I'm jealous! I wasn't enough for you, so you got another wife. Now I'm seconded place to the one person who's supposed to love me."

"I don't love you," This comes out more as a confused question than a statement.

"I hate you so much, Ryomen."

When he goes to grab your head, your first reaction is to cover your face. But as time slows and the grip on your hair tightens, you realize you were wrong.

Sukuna never loved you. This wasn't him falling out of love with you for someone else. He liked you, so he kept you around- but he loved Haruko, so he wanted her to stay with him.

And when your head is bashed repeatedly into the desk he got for her, your last few conscious moments are spent realizing that. It was silly of you to think anything else.

Your knees buckle beneath your deadweight, forcing your body into an uncomfortable praying position; your hands stretched out in front, giving your head a soft spot to rest on.

Even in death, all you can do is pray for a different outcome. But all you can do now is wait for your vision to fully become dark as pieces of your skull pierce your brain, effectively killing you in the process.

Sukuna almost doesn't hear Haruko creak open the door, worried after she hears cracking noises. What she didn't know was what she heard was your head splintering. But what she knows now is despite having two pairs of arms and two sets of eyes, Ryomen Sukuna only needs one wife to be complete.

this took longer than I'd like admit, I MIGHT go on a break for like 3 days because I am getting worse but I am getting anxiety meds so if they help more fluff!!! but if they don't more angst and ill probably crawl into a hole and die.

[kyriethesquishysquid]

Heard Through the Grapevine (König/Fem!Reader)

Summary: There were always crazy rumors whirling around military bases and KorTac was no different. König, in particular, was often the victim of the most vicious rumors. Despite knowing her opinion is unpopular, the lovely reader refuses to partake in spreading the lies and often stands up against them instead, all while trying to battle her growing feelings for the quiet colonel. 

Word count: ~9K

A/N: Some use of Y/N. Reader’s description is left rather vague but there are details of her being short, chubby, and with hair long enough to pull back. Reader is aged between her mid-twenties to mid-thirties. While König has no exact canon age, in this fic he will be somewhere around 40 (an age range I’ve seen people come to match with his ranking as colonel). König has anxiety, reader has anxiety, we ALL have anxiety. Slightly possible medical inaccuracies- While I am a nurse, I am not an AP or Emergency Room nurse so I’ve never done stitches myself. I’m using my basic medical knowledge, what I’ve learned in classes, and Google. So please forgive any inaccuracies! As always, I've never played COD. No beta we die like Graves.

TW: Porn with minor plot. Romance and smut. Slight age gap (reader is somewhere around 5-15 years younger than König). Size kink, mild innocence kink(?) dom/sub themes, M!dom/F!sub, major power play, praise-degradation, accent/language kink, voice kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, and loottss of pet names (I’m a whore for pet names) in both German and English. Mentions of violence. Talk of blood, wounds, and stitching in a medical setting. 

Simple Translations (Longer translations will be included next to their sentences!):

Scheiße - Shit

Kleines - Little one

Kätzchen - Kitten

Schätzchen - Sweetheart

Liebling - Darling/Love

“You can’t say he doesn’t terrify you!” 

Your friend’s words scoffed through a mouth full of pizza made you grimace for multiple reasons, a shrug of your shoulders being your only answer as you dug back into your mashed potatoes. 

“Seriously, Y/N?” Mark pressed harder with obvious disbelief. 

“What?” you retorted sharply, “Is it so hard to believe I’m not scared of the colonel just because he’s a big guy?” 

 “Then what’s with the way you look at him?” your best friend, Lisa, added, unable to hide the coy smirk growing.

A heavy sigh left your lungs and you dropped your spoon onto your plate, directing a deadpan look at the both of them as you realized they were not going to drop the subject. 

Damn her and her mischievous nature. She was the only one who knew even a little about your hidden feelings for König, having been spilled one late night under the stars after far too many drinks, and she hadn’t stopped giving you shit for it since. Thankfully, she was a good friend and didn’t air out your personal laundry to anybody; not even your other mutual friends. However, that didn’t stop her from teasing you at every turn possible. Like now. The whole topic was a stupid subject in your eyes, brought on by the recent rumors about König having decapitated a new recruit for looking at him wrong. Ridiculous, unbelievable, and yet people wouldn’t let it go. It made you feel a kinship for the big man. Though for different reasons, you’d been the subject of many rumors over your life, having been picked on and subjected to bullshit drama simply because of your weight. Perhaps that was the biggest trigger of it all, but the fact you truly liked König was certainly a major supporting factor.

“Colonel König is intimidating, yes, but most men are intimidating; save for the present company,” you shot back with a little grin, earning a scowl from said man, “Nonetheless, I’m not scared of him. He’s never raised his voice at me, nor given me a reason to believe those stupid fucking rumors people want to spread about him. He’s always treated me with respect, more than any of the other cocky bastards around here do really. Those stupid rumors come from people who are jealous of him, either his rank or his superior physical condition, OR from people who have nothing better to do with their downtime than come up with spooky stories.”

Your best friend’s eyes went owlish in shock, pulling the corners of your lips into a frown of frustration at her childish behavior, and you prodded her shin gently beneath the table. 

“For fuck's sake, stop looking at me like that. You know I respect and even like the colonel, okay? So no matter what silly shit floats around, I’m not going to believe a word of it until the day I see these supposed cruel actions in person,” you sighed, then pled with her softly, “Just- Just drop it, please.”

When she didn’t respond, you felt a prickle of uncertainty send the hairs on the back of your neck on end. You tried to catch her gaze only to see it traveling off to your right before finally coming back your way with a nervous laugh. 

“I- I didn’t realize it but… he was sitting behind you,” she murmured softly. 

Spine snapping straight, you gaped at her in shock. 

“No way, you’re joking, right?” you hissed. 

The slow shake of her head made your heart fall into your guts, pounding heavily in your veins as you nervously turned in the direction she had looked, only to find him putting up his dirty dishes and exiting the room. 

“Mother fucker!” you groaned, “So- So he heard all of that?!” 

When she nodded, you were almost sure you were going to faint. You and König were on good terms as nurse and patient but that didn’t mean you wanted him to think (however correct it was) that you had some kind of crush on him with how adamantly you defended him. 

Food suddenly didn’t seem so appetizing with the nerves buzzing in your stomach. Pushing your plate away, you got up from the table and quickly dismissed yourself with the excuse of paperwork piling up on your desk. It wasn’t a complete lie at least. Medical documentation was never-ending, especially in a military base with accident-prone soldiers. You only hoped you could make it back to the medical wing without running into the big man himself and making things more awkward. 

Dumping your food, you shoved the plate into the dirty dish bin and rushed out into the hall. You were grateful to find the foot traffic minimal, allowing you to cross the base as quickly as your short legs could carry you. Your anxiety was already high enough with the worries of what König now thought; adding another unknown variable into the mix would spell certain disaster for your mental stability.  

The instant you stepped foot into the medbay and found it empty, you shut and locked the office door before snagging up one of the throw pillows off the old beaten-up couch and screaming into said pillow with all of your might. You screamed and screamed, until your throat hurt and your heart pounded loud in your ears, until you felt that nervous buzz of panic fade from your skin and leave exhaustion behind. 

“I’m gonna need a fucking drink tonight,” you sighed as you dropped into your computer chair, “She’s gonna owe me for this shit.” 

With that last thought, you fell back into the monotonous routine of finishing up charts and notes from the day. 

The next few hours passed quickly into days and days into weeks, time flying by in a blur as you buried yourself in your work and your patients in hopes of forgetting your troubles. You were both relieved and frustrated that you hadn’t seen the colonel at all during that time; relieved you wouldn’t have to deal with an awkward situation but frustrated because, despite the anxiety, you missed his presence. It wasn’t until Horangi assisted a hunched-over König into the office three weeks later that you realized he’d been gone on a mission during that time, a mission that had obviously gone askew. Immediately you jumped to your feet and ushered the duo over, prepared to balance the injured giant on his other side if necessary.

“What happened?” you demanded as Horangi helped König sit on the medical bed. 

“Nothing serious,” König replied, letting out a hiss when Horangi jerked his hand away and none-too-gently removed the makeshift bandage from the bigger man’s side.

A shudder ran down your spine at the amount of drying blood shining against his tight black shirt and then you eyed the tear in the fabric. His pale flesh was covered in different states of drying blood but the bleeding of the visceral wound seemed to be, thankfully, stopped for the time being.

“Good god, not serious?!” you snapped in disbelief. 

König had the gall to roll his eyes as you muttered to yourself about men being stupid and stubborn. As you leaned in closer to examine the gash, Horangi moved aside to give you room. Luckily, the cut looked relatively clean but the depth of it was concerning, with multiple layers of tissue peeking through the wound. 

“Hey, I’m going to debrief with the general,” Horangi commented suddenly, “I’ll let him know you’re getting fixed up first.” 

König gave a small nod in reply as the other operator left the room and you stepped back with a half-smile. 

“I’m going to have to stitch that up. If you’re not comfortable with me doing it, I can call the doctor in but I have done them plenty before if-”

“Ja, I want you to do it,” he cut you off quickly. 

That wasn’t a surprise. Nobody enjoyed having to call one of the docs in during the middle of the night unless it was for a dire emergency because they were all, understandably, cranky when woken. 

“That’s fine,” you agreed, biting your lower lip before gesturing at him and adding, “I- I’ll need you to remove your shirt so I can get a better look and stitch you up.”

König let out a noise of understanding as you turned away to wash your hands and grab out all of the necessary equipment you’d need for the stitches. Thankfully, the wound wasn’t deep enough to have chanced any vital areas, especially since it was on his side, but there was no doubt it was still deep enough that it wouldn’t heal properly without treatment. How he was even upright and talking like normal was beyond you. You were just glad you had been an RN in the emergency room before transferring to KorTac, your time there invaluable for all the shit you’d had to put up with here between busy doctors and never-ending patients. 

“Alrighty, let’s get this show on the… road”

As your gaze met bare, toned, skin, your brain immediately melted into nothingness. Gone were all the years of medical training and college; all that remained were the hormones of a bitch in heat. Never, in the entire year you’d worked with KorTac, had you ever seen him shirtless. He was hardly in here, between his elite skills and natural resilience against being hurt, and the only times he had been were generally for serious things that the doctor would have to take care of, or for routine visits that wouldn’t require him shirtless. So to say you were struck dumb was an understatement. 

Logically, you had known König was fit. It was practically written in all of their contracts to stay in peak physical condition, and the compression shirts he wore did nothing to hide the defined muscles in his arms and stomach, but seeing him without the fabric was even more daunting than you had expected. 

“Schätzchen?” he asked softly, voice full of something that sounded like concern. 

His gloved fingers touching your face finally jerked you out of your entirely inappropriate fantasy of getting the chance to lick up and down his abdomen and you nearly squeaked in shock, barely concealing the noise by clearing your throat. 

“Uh, sorry, I- I don’t know what came over me, uh, okay. Can you lie down for me, please? I’m sure you know this works but I’m gonna numb you up first. It’s probably going to sting,” you warned him.

Setting the equipment on the metal rolling table, you took the last terrifying steps toward him and it took everything in your power not to moan as you realized you were directly face to face with firm pecs until he finally sat. You managed to shake away the lustful thoughts on your own this time and pulled on gloves before grabbing up the syringe. 

“Ready?” you asked, not daring to meet his eyes lest you get too flustered to work. 

“Ja, go ahead,” he rumbled. 

With a steadying breath, you carefully poked the needle into the top layers of the wound and pushed the plunger down slowly. You’d seen other soldiers cry over the pain of a lidocaine injection into an open wound, not that you could blame them, but, of course, König took it all without even flinching. The man really acted like he was made of stone. It was insane. 

“That should kick in in just a few,” you murmured, capping the needle and placing it into the sharps container, “Wanna tell me what happened while we wait?” 

Feeling safe back near the cabinets rather than within arms reach, you finally let your eyes find him and watched in disbelief as he sat up without even a wince, cool blue eyes clear and steady.  

“Ah, nothing serious. There was one hidden upstairs and we didn’t realize it until- well, this,” he replied after a moment, gesturing to his side with a half-chuckle half-sigh. 

A frown turned down your lips at that. God, you really had it lucky, sitting here in your cushy position as a nurse. Sure, the hours sucked, and seeing people hurt (or god forbid worse) really sucked, but at least your life was never in danger like theirs. You hated thinking about him getting hurt like this, no matter how silly it was since he could obviously take care of himself. Swallowing hard, you nodded and grabbed another fresh pair of gloves, snapping them on with a forced smile. 

“Well, I’d hate to see the other guy then,” you teased softly.

It was a joke, and yet it wasn’t. You had no doubt his assailant hadn’t made it out of there in one piece. 

“Let’s just say, not even a talented nurse such as yourself could help him when I was done with him,” he replied.

You couldn’t help but giggle at how his eyes crinkled beneath the faded black smudges, further conveying the amusement lacing his tone. 

“I bet. I know I wouldn’t want to be your enemy, colonel,” you snickered, “Okay, lie down again for me please.”   

König leaned back with a little groan and tucked his right hand behind his head, keeping the angle perfect to avoid stretching or squishing the skin around the wound. There was a comfortable silence as you readied the needle with thread in the driver. You gave him a testing tap around the wound, to which he quickly affirmed he felt nothing before you got to work. You quickly cleaned the area, put a clean drape around it, and then snagged up the needle. It had been a bit since you’d done sutures on such a wound but you quickly fell back into the familiar rhythm with simple interrupted stitches. 

“You’re rather good at that,” he complimented quietly.

You felt your cheeks warm at the praise as you sent him a warm smile and replied, “Thank you. It’s nice to know I haven’t lost my touch since leaving the emergency department.” 

“Oh? What made you decide to come here instead?” 

Well, this was new. While König was always kind to you, it generally never went beyond small talk. You knew as much about him as he did you, though you couldn’t lie and say you were complaining about the change. That little fangirl you tried to hide so deep inside was dancing with elation over the fact that he was trying to keep a conversation going, but it wasn’t helping your little crush one bit.  

“Honestly? Better pay and escape from a bad home situation,” you admitted honestly, “I just didn’t have a great environment to accel in and when my cousin mentioned joining you guys, it just made sense.”  

Tying the last end into a square knot, you snipped off the extra thread and stood with a proud smile, examining your handiwork happily. 

“Gotta say, you’re a model patient, colonel. I don’t wanna see you in here for this again though,” you playfully scolded. 

As you turned away, you were startled by a sudden deep laugh. Not a chuckle or a snort, but a full-on belly laugh, and you were absolutely certain you’d never heard anything more beautiful.  

“And here I was thinking about getting stabbed again just so I could see meine süße kleine krankenschwester.” (My sweet little nurse)

“Hey, no using languages I can’t understand,” you retorted with a giggle, ducking your face in hopes of hiding the way your cheeks flushed with lust at the sound of his mother tongue. 

Why was that so sexy, hearing him speak German? Not that his speaking normally didn’t affect you but, when he fell into his old language, it just did something different. Another laugh rumbled from the man as you went about cleaning up the utensils and you had to grin. You knew, going forward, you’d do anything you could to hear that laugh again. A small glimmer of hope flickered to life in your chest as you ungloved and tossed them in the trash. Maybe this was the beginning of an actual friendship… or more.

As you scolded yourself over the lofty dreams, a presence against your back put a sudden stop to your motions, every last bit of you freezing in place except your heart which pounded valiantly in your veins. 

“You- You shouldn’t- shouldn’t move around so much,” you whispered breathlessly as you tried to shake off the sudden nerves, “Don’t wanna rip your stitches out already.” 

He was all but impossible to ignore, standing so close that you were certain you’d bump into him if you breathed too hard. Taking a small stabilizing breath, your eyes closed in frustration as you caught his scent, the faint smell of sweat, gunpowder, and something spiced, possibly a faded cologne or body wash overtaking your senses. It took all of your will to keep moving and cleaning up as if everything was normal. As you grabbed the antiseptic, you could visibly see the way your hands shook and mentally berated yourself. You were literally just sticking a needle into his side minutes ago. Why was this affecting you so much?! 

You grabbed onto the counter for balance and lifted onto tiptoe only to have the bottle suddenly snagged from you and shelved in its spot just barely within your reach. It would have been completely fine, a nice gesture even, if it weren’t for the fact he had to lean against you to do it. With his free hand resting against your waist for balance, you could feel every- single- fucking- inch of his form against yours. Forbidden images of him taking you right there against the counter flooded your thoughts when you got a very personal feel of his dick against your lower back, completely prominent in its shape even while soft.

The fates were fucking testing you to the ends of your limits at that point. 

“You should get a step stool, kleines, don’t want to hurt yourself,” he mused quietly.

A shaky nod was all you could manage, your fingers wrapping around the edge of the solid countertop and holding on for dear life. You couldn’t find it in you to reply with the mortifying lust clouding your mind. With your luck, instead of thanking him you’d ask to repay the favor with a blowjob. 

Deep breaths. In and out. After a few moments, you knew you should respond. You had to do something to diffuse the situation because he was obviously content to let you stew in your thoughts.  

“You- You- Uhm, you should go rest,” you stammered out after a moment.

And then he was gone. The instant he stepped away, you nearly dropped to the floor, your knees weak and back now startlingly cold. Tucking some hair behind your ear, you spun around and prepared to give him the usual medical spiel about resting and letting the wound heal, only to lose the ability to speak when a large hand cupped your jaw. 

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

His voice was soft, warm with a tinge of amusement dancing at the edges, and suddenly you remembered the stupid conversation you’d had with your friends in the canteen. Your tongue felt thick and immovable so you settled for shaking your head no, trying to convey that he, in fact, hadn’t scared you.

“No? No, what?” he asked. 

Swallowing down the urge to moan, you shakily replied, “You don’t- didn’t scare me.” 

Your plump cheeks burned hot at the way his icy blue eyes subtly changed, lids lowering into an indiscernible expression as his irises searched your face thoroughly. 

“Are you sure? You’re suddenly much quieter, Schätzchen.”

A little curse escaped before you could catch it as you subconsciously melted into his hand when his thumb started stroking your jawline. The calloused texture rubbed deliciously against your soft skin and sent goosebumps down your arms.    

“I-I’m sure,” you answered, voice barely audible even in the silent room, “Just… unexpected.” 

When he leaned down and hovered just above your ear, you swore you were about to combust. He was close, too fucking close. Delectably within reach and yet so far away in the ways that mattered. Your thighs clenched together in search of some kind of relief when his scent infiltrated your senses again, the same as before but so much stronger, and you couldn’t help the way your stomach fluttered traitorously. 

“That’s all, hmm?” he rumbled lowly. 

Oh. That bastard! He knew what he was doing to you and he was teasing you about it! How was this the same quiet colonel that you practically had to bully into saying more than a few words just a couple of weeks prior? You lifted your hands and prepared to shove him away, to give him a piece of your mind, but he threw you another curveball with the sudden sensation of soft lips against your throat.

“Ah!” 

This time, your gasp was loud, rivaled only by the pounding thump of your heart threatening to burst from your chest. 

“I asked you a question, kleines, I expect an answer.”

A truly pathetic whine fell from your lips as your head fell to rest against his shoulder. How were you supposed to answer him?! Your tongue felt thick and immovable as you soaked in the sensation of his skin against yours.  

“König, please, I don’t- I don’t understand what you want here,” you finally managed to croak through parted lips. 

He let out a small hum but didn’t answer right away. His lips busied themselves trailing barely-there kisses up and down the side of your neck. When you felt his nose brush against your ear, you nearly jumped. Every touch threatened to make you come apart right then and there and it was quickly becoming too much.

“Is- Is this about what I said a few weeks ago?” you pushed for an answer. 

Pausing in his thorough exploration of your flesh, he let out a little breath before humming back, “Mmhmm. Imagine my surprise when I heard you defending me, Schätzchen, heard you tell your little friends so certainly that you were not scared of me; that you even liked me.”

Your nails instinctively dug into his bare arms as you fought for your sanity, his teeth scraping your neck and raveling away what little sensibilities you had left. 

“At first, I doubted what I heard,” he spoke as his hands took hold of your hips and squeezed softly, “You are so soft and sweet. Untouchable to someone like me. I’ve spent the last few weeks debating, agonizing over if you might feel what I felt. Tonight though, with the way you looked at me? I could finally see it.” 

When he pulled back, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze again but he was quick to correct that with a little nudge. 

“Still so shy.”

Your thoughts were running a thousand miles an hour; fear, lust, and disbelief were shouting at you in so many different ways that you thought you would pass out from overstimulation alone. While you’d thought about this happening almost every night since you’d first talked with him, you’d always assumed he would be a fantasy only. You never imagined the quiet, steadfast, colonel would ever have a mutual interest in you. Part of you wanted to drop to your knees and thank him for even touching you, while the other waited with panic-laced worries for him to announce that it was some kind of prank. 

When his calloused fingers trailed up your face and into your hair to scrape your scalp, it was like he flipped a magical switch. Gone were the panicked thoughts, the uncertainties, and the insecurities. All that existed were the beautiful sensations he created. 

“Does that feel good?” he asked. 

You nodded dumbly and let your eyes flutter back open as you heard him laugh, flushing with desire as you were once more pinned with those gorgeous eyes of his. 

“This isn’t some kind of joke, is it?” you finally questioned, managing to get somewhat of a grip on your psyche, “Because if it is, I’ll-” 

A sharp sting through your scalp cut you off as he tightened his fingers in your hair, following your silence with disappointed tongue clicks. 

“Do I really seem like the kind of man who would joke about something like this?” 

You shook your head slowly, muttering a defeated little “No sir” in response. Your efforts were rewarded with the release of your hair, hand tenderly cupping the nape of your neck instead. 

“I need to hear you say you want this before it goes any further,” he instructed you, firmly but gently.    

As your lips parted, you hesitated. Of course, you wanted this, but here? Now? Your eyes darted nervously to the cracked door before catching his once more. 

“I- I do but… König, anyone could come in and, god, you’re hurt and-”

You watched in awe, voice trailing off into silence, as he leaned in and pulled up his sniper hood, revealing a black gaiter which he promptly tugged down. The peek of a strong, square, jawline peppered with a short stubble made your eyes open wide in shock but your attention was quickly captured by his full lips, curled up into a smirk with a peek of sharp canines flashing through. Fuck, if only part of him was this gorgeous, you were afraid to see him completely bare. 

“As I have said, it’s not serious, and you’ve so graciously patched me up,” he purred softly, eyes boring holes into your sole as his lips almost touched yours, “Now, tell me kleines, do- you- want- this?”

“Yes, god, ple-”

Fingers dug hard into your soft sides as he finally captured your mouth in a gentle kiss and you instinctively stretched up to meet him, hands sliding up to wrap around the back of his neck in an attempt to convey just how badly you wanted him. Words weren’t your forte but actions… actions you could manage. 

A quiet groan escaped your lips as you felt his hips press against yours and hands came down to grab your ass. Your shock quickly turned into concern when you felt him start to lift you. 

“König, no!” you scolded him as you wiggled out of his grasp. 

The colonel had the gall to look confused by your rejection. 

You gestured to his freshly sewn stitches and bit out, “I don’t care how much you say it’s fine. I refuse to be the reason you pop your stitches and I’d rather not have to put a needle in your again. Just…” 

Your stern words trailed off as you saw the mild pink tinge across his upper cheeks. He was too adorable. Huffing out a low sigh, you rested your hands against his firm pecs and gently pushed him back toward the bed. 

“Lay down, I’m shutting the door real quick.”

Thankfully, he didn’t bother arguing, just turned with an annoyed grunt as you shut and locked the door. The annoyance in his eyes dropped the instant you carefully climbed up onto the bed with him, letting him guide you to sit over his thighs comfortably. 

“If we’re doing this, we’re doing it in a way that you won’t get hurt,” you warned him. 

“Verdammte Hölle,” he scoffed lowly, fingers digging into the plush softness of your thighs, “Fine, if you insist, just get over here.” 

A gasp passed from your lips into his when he dragged you in closer and you felt the bulge of his cock already growing through his cargos. And what a fucking power rush that was, to know you were affecting one of the strongest men in existence. You! A short, chubby, nobody-famous nurse and this god-like man wanted you. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out quietly, hands coming to rest on his chest as he guided your hips down against his, “König, I said-”

“You may be on top of me, but you are in no way in control, understood, Kätzchen?” he bit out huskily. 

Your heart stammered in your chest but you managed a little nod in response. Apparently subdued by your acceptance, his hands spurred you into motion once more, tearing a broken moan from your chest as his hardness pressed deliciously against the apex of your thighs. Even though clothing, he was working you up entirely too easily.  

He attacked your neck once more and growled out a terse, “Scheiße, I always knew you’d sound fucking beautiful like this. Mein kleines engel, so verdammt unschuldig und süß.” (My little angel, so fucking innocent and sweet)

While you had no idea what he said, it was clearly something sexual and you couldn’t help the way you shuddered. It was kind of funny. When you first met him, you’d been shocked by the pitch of his voice, having expected such a giant being to have a deep voice; and now… now you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Oh? Magst du es, wenn ich mit dir Deutsch spreche, mein dummes kleines Kätzchen?” (“Do you like when I speak German to you, my silly little kitten?”)

Instinctively, you ground down in search of relief as his voice filled your head and took over your thoughts. 

He chuckled softly and murmured, “You do like it. I can feel the way your sweet little cunt throbs against me each time. Do you always react this way when I speak German around you?” 

Your body froze at that, face heating and flushing down your chest as you finally understood what he was saying. No fucking way.

“You- You can feel it?” you asked meekly, hoping he’d say no. 

“Mmhmm, Deine kleinen Zuckungen sind so süß- Ah, there is it again,” he teased, “So, kleines? Is it like that every time?” (Your little twitches are so cute)

With a frustrated groan, you quietly admitted it before ducking down to bite onto his shoulder. You felt a thrill of satisfaction when you felt his cock jump between your thighs but didn’t even stop to gloat, too enthralled by the taste of his skin. You didn’t dare leave marks, unsure of the protocol for his position, but gods you wanted to. Maybe another time, if you were given the chance. Scraping your teeth across his flesh, you scooted back to sit farther down his thighs and began to make your way down his collarbone and chest until you were able to gently bite the meatiest part of his pec. 

“Ah, Scheiße!”

Before he could react further, you continued on and swiped your tongue across his nipple, earning a guttural moan and his fingers curled into the hair at the back of your head. For a moment, you questioned if he intended to stop you but, when he didn’t, you did it again. The little muffled curses he let out only worsened the mess in your panties and you had to restrain yourself from reaching down to ease the ache. It wasn’t until you were kneeling between his thighs and working at his belt that he finally stopped you.

“Kätzchen, just what do you intend to do?” he asked as you nibbled softly at the skin above his pants. 

You let out a huff and rolled your eyes up at him. 

“I intend to suck your cock, if that’s okay, colonel,” you shot back. 

He mumbled something quietly under his breath then added louder, “While I would love that, I don’t know how much time we have.” 

As you finally worked his belt open and began tugging his pants down, you couldn’t help but pout. 

“That’s not fair. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” you whined. 

The way his eyes rolled back and his hips arched made you grin. 

“And I would love to see those beautiful lips wrapped around my dick, but another time, kleines. Right now, I need to be inside of you.”

Your cunt clenched instinctively at that, at the promise of another chance to touch him, and you finally relented with a sigh. 

“Fine, fine, but you owe me later,” you replied, letting him pull you back over his lap. 

With a chuckle, he pulled you into a kiss and mumbled, “Of course, Schätzchen. Anything you wish, whenever you wish- except for right now.”

A flush crossed your face, deep and hot, as his words settled into your chest. When he began tugging at your jeans, you helped slide them and your panties down until they were hooked around just one leg. You weren’t given much time to ruminate on the feeling of your bare flesh against the scratchy fabric of his pants before the sensation of calloused fingers sliding down your slit stole both your attention and breath. 

“Ooh, look at you,” he crooned lowly, fingertips pushing between your lips and sliding back up until he found your clit, “So wet for me already.” 

Worrying your lower lip, your forehead rested against his cheek and your nails dug into his shoulders as you nodded slowly. Of course, you were. Who wouldn’t be when Adonis was touching them? He moved slowly, gently, almost as if afraid to go faster. It felt good but it wasn’t enough. 

“Ich wünschte, ich könnte jetzt meine Zunge in dieser heißen kleinen Muschi haben. Ich wette, du schmeckst himmlisch.” (I wish I could have my tongue in this hot little pussy right now. I bet you taste like heaven.)

“Ffff-Fuck!”

A broken whine escaped your lips when he finally slipped a lone finger into your core and it took everything within you not to collapse at that moment. One of his felt like two of yours but reached even deeper. You couldn’t resist rocking into his motions as he carefully worked you open. 

You didn’t even get a chance to cover your mouth before he suddenly forced in a second one and curled them against your g-spot, a moan spilling from the big man beneath you as you mewled.  

“More,” he demanded as his other hand tugged up his hood once more and smashed his mouth against yours, “Again.” 

You didn’t stand a chance in hell at ignoring his commands with the way he began hooking his fingers in a constant come hither motion against your spongy patch of nerves. Tears burned in your eyes as you fought for breath against the onslaught of sensations plaguing your body. It’d been so long since you’d let anyone else touch you, relying on your own hand and toys for release, and fuck if it wasn’t overwhelming. 

“König, ple-please!” you begged weakly, unable to keep from trembling against him as he brought you dangerously close to the edge. 

For all his talk about not having time, he was surely taking his. His fingers felt incredible but you needed to feel his cock. 

“Yes, Kätzchen?”

“Want you. Need you, please!”

His low moan was the only answer you needed, shaky hands diving down to work the waistband of his pants lower and tug at his boxer-briefs. You couldn’t even keep your eyes open to focus, too lost in the delirium of your approaching climax and the pleasure dancing along your skin. 

When you finally pulled him free, you instantly shoved his hand away and shuffled up until his tip was kissing your entrance, but he halted your motions before you could do more. 

“Don’t go too fast, alright? I don’t want you to get hurt,” he instructed you gently. 

You barely managed to open your eyes enough to meet his and nodded hastily. Go slow. You could do that. And yet, when he finally allowed you to move, you were tempted to just slam down, no matter how massive he felt. However, your self-control prevailed, only held back by the reminder that he’d probably stop you if you got hurt. 

It wasn’t until you started to lower yourself and you felt the fat head of his cock begin to split you open that you really understood why he’d been warning you, prickles of pain and pleasure dancing behind your clenched eyes as you sucked in a harsh breath. It didn’t matter that you were soaking wet and more than ready, your body was fighting to take each inch. 

“That’s it, gutes Kätzchen, just like that,” he praised softly. (Good Kitten)

Finally, after what felt like forever, your hips settled down against his and you let out a little mewl of satisfaction. 

“Jesus fuck,” you breathed out huskily, “This feels- Fuck, I can’t even describe it.”

“I know.” 

His voice sounded as tightly wound as you felt. Every muscle in your body ached but none more than the throb of your core. 

“Can- Can I move?” you asked. 

“If you’re ready.”

Steading yourself with his broad shoulders, you lifted up and slowly dropped back down, nails digging into his skin as he touched every last inch inside of you. When your eyes fluttered open, your cheeks bloomed a deep red as you found him already staring at you with awe in his gaze. It would have been anxiety-inducing if it weren’t for the bruises his fingers were leaving on your hips and the quiet little grunts falling under his hood. Knowing he was watching you though, it was daunting and lit a flicker of doubt in your chest, demanding you do everything to make sure you looked and felt your best for him. 

“Ah, wait, here,” he gasped suddenly, halting your motions as he tugged up your T-shirt.

You almost stopped him, wary of fully exposing any parts of you that you felt uncomfortable about, but he was too quick. He tucked the hem into the neckline of your shirt and instantly tugged down the cup of your bra, one hand wrapping around and lifting your breast while the other hand palmed your back and jerked you forward until he could wrap his lips around your nipple with a heady groan. 

“Fuck, König!” you whimpered, shocks of bliss making you pulse around his cock.

His moan was loud against your flesh as his hand left your back and guided your hips into motion once more, the dual stimulation enough to make you shudder. Bit by bit, you were able to work up to a faster pace, until pleasure started to take hold of your mind and you lost all sense of rhythm, more focused on coming than putting on a good show. 

“Ohgodohgod ohmygod!” 

A heavy growl vibrated against your skin as he grunted out between kisses, “Oh Gott, das ist es Kätzchen, kommst du mich holen?” (Oh god, that’s it kitten, are you going to come for me?)

You buried your frantic cries into your palm as you felt tears begin to fall. It was too good, too much, and you fucking loved it. The burn of his cock stretching your walls brought you so close to the edge that it hurt, each thrust making your clit throb with need. You managed a panicked, muffled, plea and were rewarded with teeth sinking into your flesh and a calloused thumb on your sensitive nub, tearing a hellish screech from your lips as you were instantly pushed over the edge. Your hand barely contained the frantic moans pouring from your throat as he pushed you through the crest. Every swipe of his thumb and thrust of his cock brought on another wave of pleasure, again and again until you lost the ability to do more than exist. 

With an audible pop, he pulled back from your abused skin and relaxed back against the bed, moans starting to rival yours in volume as his hands took hold of your hips and his knees bent under you. When he started thrusting up to meet each bounce of your hips, the fog finally took over completely. Leaning back enough to wrap your hands around his forearms, you gave over that last bit of control and just followed his lead. The sound of your ass meeting his thighs became louder, faster, in the quiet room; a lewd soundtrack coupled with the squeaks of the medical bed and your unstifled noises of pleasure.

“Mein gott. Look at that face. Not a single thought going through that sweet little head of yours, is there?” he groaned, chuckling when you suddenly leaned forward and buried your face in his neck with a meek hum, “No, no, don’t be embarrassed, kleines. It’s a compliment to have such an intelligent woman so brainless from my cock.”

You instinctively clenched around him and nuzzled further into his neck out of mortification. God, that shouldn’t be hot! You shouldn’t like that and yet you do. How did he manage to weave together such sexual praises into something that sounded like genuinely sweet compliments? 

“Sit back up, now,” he commanded sternly, “I want to see that beautiful face when I come.”

The change in position instantly put your senses back on edge, the press of his cock against your sweet spot all too tantalizingly perfect as he muttered gentle praises and led you back into rhythm, words slowly dissolving into the most unholy whimpers and grunts you’d ever heard. It wasn’t long until you couldn’t make out a single thing he said, English long evolved into German between frantic moans of your name. 

Suddenly his grip became overwhelmingly painful and you let out a squeal of panic, but the pressure was easily forgotten in favor of bliss as he began to thrust into you violently. It was almost as if he were trying to fuck himself into your cervix, a scary thought knowing he had the length to do so, but every attempt you made to lift off of him and create space was thwarted by his superior strength. And gods, if that didn’t do the dirtiest things to you. Even when he released one hip, he was powerful enough to keep you in place with just one hand, the other suddenly reappearing between your thighs. 

“Oh- Oh god, yes, König, just-” 

All it took was a few circles around your sensitive clit before you were thrown over the edge once more with a scream. Wave after wave rocked through your body as you rode him hard, thighs shaking and heart pounding as you scratched at him and cried his name all too loudly.  

“Oh Scheiße, ich werde kommen, bitte, nicht aufhören, nicht aufhören, bitte, bitte, bitte!” (Oh shit, I'm gonna come, please, don't stop, don't stop, please please please!)

Even in German, his message was clear. Fighting through your own hazy pleasure, you tightened your thighs and clenched around his cock eagerly, whimpering his name and pleading with him to come. You weren’t given any warning as he suddenly grabbed your neck and jerked you down into a ravenous kiss, a mixture of high-pitched keening and growling moans pouring into your mouth like oxygen when he buried himself one last time to the hilt. 

Tremors ran through your being as you felt his cock twitching, heat filling you with each pulse, and you couldn’t help the tears suddenly building in your eyes again. 

“Holy fuck,” you whined against his lips. 

When you clenched around him again and tried to move your hips, he put a stop to it immediately, arms wrapping around you and trapping your body to his. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed darkly, “You start that andI won’t want to stop, and we definitely don’t have time for that.”  

A little grin crossed your lips as you melted into his hold and murmured, “Aye, aye, colonel.” 

His little snort of a laugh jostled you against his frame only for him to still and hold you tighter. You turned to rest your ear against his chest and listened to the steady heavy beat of his heart while your fingers trailed up and down his arms. 

“That was okay, right?” he asked after a moment, the uncertainty surprising. 

It took some effort to get him to let you go but you managed to finally sit up, hands slowly pushing up the edges of his mask to just until his lips were visible again, and you kissed him softly. 

“Better than I’ve imagined,” you whispered softly. 

He tensed for a moment before a little huff of a laugh puffed across your lips. 

“You’ve imagined this?” he asked back. 

Chewing your lower lip as you lifted again, you gave a shrug and replied, “Yeah, a lot, if I’m being honest. As you heard, you’re an intimidating man, colonel, but really, it only adds to your appeal.” 

It felt weird to be so openly blunt about your attraction to him but you supposed you were past the point of second-guessing things. His eyes searched your face intently for just a moment before he smiled, a warm, heart-pounding expression that made your knees weak. Fuck, maybe he hid his face for that reason. It wouldn’t do to have everyone tripping over themselves at his beauty. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” he murmured softly, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, “As much as I want to hold you longer, I’m afraid we should get decent before someone comes along and-”

“Fuck, yeah, you’re right!” you gasped, eyes darting to the door instinctively as you clambered off the bed. 

The moment you released your hold on him, your knees tried to give out but he was quick to give you a balancing hand. You thanked him quietly as you fixed yourself quickly- Well, as quickly as you could when your legs felt like jelly and your head was still spinning. When you were finally all dressed, he was carefully sliding his shirt back on. 

“Wait, let me make sure we didn’t tear anything loose.”

He gave you a look that told you how ridiculous he thought you were being, but he humored you with a sigh after a moment. Leaning in, you looked over the stitches and were happy to find everything still intact. 

“Good to go! Thank goodness,” you sighed happily, then flushed as you looked up at him, “Uh, you’ll have to come back in seven to ten days to get the stitches removed, which I’m sure you know. Other than that, just take it easy. Any damage you do will only prolong how long you’ll have to be on light duty.” 

“I see, and if I need assistance with any in the meantime? I can come to you?” he teased, eyes crinkling warmly at the edges.

Unable to hold in your grin, you replied, “Always. I’d be glad to help with anything you need, colonel. Just come find me.”

You tossed him a coy smile before making your way to the door, only to get spun and pushed up against the wood without warning. One big hand cupped your neck and forced your head up as he leaned in and kissed you, soft and light in a way that made your toes curl. 

“Sorry, needed one more,” he purred softly, chuckling as your face went hot. 

“Get out of here before I make up a reason to keep you here overnight,” you bit out teasingly. 

He gave you a mock salute before releasing you and allowing you to open the door. His gaze became soft once more when he studied you as you leaned against the door frame. 

“I’ll see you again soon. Have sweet dreams, Kätzchen.” 

“You too, König.”

When he finally walked away down the hall, you couldn’t help but watch him go. God, that man had the most perfect ass, and don’t even get started on that broad back. Biting back the flare of lust threatening to rekindle in your stomach, you ducked back into the office and ran a hand through your now-tangled locks, letting out a low sigh. The clock on the wall read two thirty in the morning, which meant you thirty minutes to get König’s chart typed up and then you could finally head home for the night. Thoughts of a hot shower and your soft bed had you groaning. Yeah, you were definitely going to sleep good tonight. 

…

“Sooo, how was your weekend?” Lisa asked, eyebrows jumping up and down in anticipation as you slid into the seat opposite her and Mark. 

You simply threw her a nonplussed look, not daring to give her any inclination. Lisa was good about keeping your feelings secret but you weren’t sure she could contain herself in public if you told her about what had happened with König, not to mention you didn’t want to chance him getting some sort of backlash if the fraternization rules applied to you. You’d have to do some research on that later if you two were going to meet up again at some point. Logically, seeing as you were contracted as a nurse and not as a solider, you hoped that you were outside of those rules but you weren’t certain.  

“It was fine. Nothing too crazy,” you lied seamlessly. 

She seemed to deflate at that. 

“Really? When I saw the colonel was back I had hoped…”

“Well, you hoped wrong,” you replied blandly, “I saw him but nothing happened. It’s fine, really. Probably for the best to maintain that professional boundary.” 

A body collapsing onto the bench beside you made you jump and nearly spill your food until you caught it at the last second, your heart racing from the shock until you saw it was one of Mark’s buddies at your side. 

“Hey, Ian,” Mark greeted, “What’s up?”

He was obviously as confused about his friend’s appearance as you were, but your confusion didn’t last long when he suddenly turned to face you. 

“So, I heard from a little birdie that you were single right now. Is that true?” Ian pressed, lips quirking up into a grin.

You shot a deadly look at Mark, earning a silent apology as his face heated, before you addressed the private next to you.

“I am but-”

“Great! You should come out with me Friday night! I have a weekend pass and I need a pretty lady to take with me to the city!” 

Well, shit. You knew nothing about Ian. You hoped he was a decent guy and wouldn’t be upset over you rejecting him since he was Mark’s friend but men were tricky. How were you supposed to turn him down without hurting or angering him? As your lips parted to answer, a massive hand suddenly slid around your throat and silenced you. Eyes wide in fear, you let out a shocked whimper and froze in place, only to catch the familiar scent of a warm cologne as a hard body pressed against your back. 

“There you are, liebling, I’ve been searching all over for you.”

König. Oh. Fuck. Tilting your head back at his insistence, you let your eyes meet his icy blues, obviously crinkled in joy. When his fingers tightened around your throat, you couldn’t help the way your face flushed in delight, your entire body warming with insatiable need as he descended and planted a loud smacking kiss on your forehead.

“Come now, I’ve brought lunch for us.” 

The entire table was silent during the exchange and you could practically feel Lisa vibrating in her seat, but you didn’t dare look away from him to address her. Nodding once, you rose to your feet where he finally released your throat. He interlaced his fingers with yours and you instinctively scooted closer, enjoying the body heat and comfort he put off.

“I’ll uh- I’ll see you guys later,” you threw back as he led you out of the canteen. 

The walk was quiet as he dragged you through the halls until he finally stopped at his office. With a little murmur, König opened the door and ushered you in first. The moment the door slammed shut, you were unceremoniously shoved against it, a little oomph escaping your lips at the impact. A weak moan left your lips as you felt his breath against your ear.

“Ungezogenes kleines Kätzchen,” he purred huskily “From now on, you will let it be known that you’re with me, got it?” (Naughty little kitten)

You hesitated before nodding and replied, “Y-Yes sir. I wasn't sure- I didn’t know what-” 

“Shh, shh, I know, schatz. It is not your fault. I didn’t make my intentions quite clear. You belong to me now.”

A shudder ran down your spine, forcing a moan low in your throat as you practically preened under his possessive claim. Despite the threatening tone, you felt no fear. If anything, it turned you on more than ever. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Now get on my desk,” he instructed. 

Your confused glance was met with a smirk and a wink as he pulled away. 

“I prefer to have my dessert first, Kätzchen. We can eat lunch after.” 

[nayedoll]

About you (Part 2 of Baby Came Home)

joost klein x fem!reader

rpf below, please don’t read if ur uncomfortable!!!

this is part 2 to baby came home // i highly recommend reading part 1 for context on this fic!!

cw: 18+, nsfw, smut (f!receiving oral, protected piv), angst, some jealousy ig, reader is kind of a bitch lol

word count: 5k

a/n: some songs that fit the vibe: about you - the 1975 / right - mac miller / thinkin bout you - frank ocean / needy - ariana grande

───────────────────────

You sigh anxiously, tossing your phone onto the big pillows of your bed as you lie down on your soft comforter; it helps soothe your nerves a bit, being in your old bed again, surrounded by your stuffed animals and the girlish decoration of your room that has not changed in the slightest — except maybe it’s a little cleaner now, thanks to your mom.

You really shouldn’t be this stressed about today.

If anything, it should feel nice that your old friends were kind enough to invite you out to dinner, a reunion as they had called it to celebrate the fact that you finally stepped foot in the Netherlands after four years. But whatever emotion you should be feeling right now is subsided by the anxiety of meeting Joost again.

After he left New York, you had been texting and calling each other, neither as friends nor as something more, just enjoying the comfort you brought to one another. And for a while, it really seemed like this was going somewhere, like things could work out again if you tried. But of course, everything had to be ruined; all it took was one question— “Why did you leave?”— before a small argument erupted, one that was enough for you to distance yourself from him again.

Joost was trying to find a reason to why you left, why you didn’t want to come back and be with him and frankly, you didn’t even know what to tell him. You said you needed some time, a few days to think which turned into weeks and months of barely any communication— and now here you were, in the four walls of your old bedroom, getting ready to face him again.

The whole situation sort of reminds you of your first date with Joost; same room, same bed, trying to calm yourself down and pick out an outfit but nothing looks good enough. Your dad still has the TV on too loud downstairs and your mom still comes in your room without knocking. The thought eases you down a bit, makes you laugh as you finally make the decision to leave, already running late.

—

The restaurant is small but pretty, soft lighting falling on the adorned walls as the sound of jazz music and people talking fills the air, helps you relax a little. It’s the same one you used to drag Joost to all the time, the one he would always complain about but secretly loved despite not being the “romantic type” in his own words. You wonder if he picked it out, if he even played a part in the planning of this; the thought is unlikely but still brings a smile to your face.

You walk further into the dining room, overtaken by the loving atmosphere of people laughing, talking, genuinely enjoying themselves as you look around for your friends. You eventually spot them at a table towards the back of the room, all the people you cherish so deeply; Alanis, Apson, Tantu, Lyon and of course, Joost.

With a sweet smile on your lips, you approach them slowly yet nervously. Alanis is the first one to notice you as she rises up from her seat, pulling you into a warm, tight embrace.

“Missed you guys!” You exclaim, hugging everyone one by one, slowly, to put off coming face to face with Joost as long as possible. Inevitably you reach him and god does he look good; the same blonde fluffy hair, same baby blue eyes, an outfit that fits him infuriatingly well, of course coupled with his usual smug expression.

The tension in the room immediately shifts as your friends share knowing glances between them— you get the idea that they have all been informed about your little… reunion with Joost in New York, the memory of him on top of you flashing through your mind and making you swallow deeply.

He beams at you, the knot in your stomach loosening as he hugs you, a small confirmation that things are still okay between you.

“Hey,” You hug him back, maybe for a little longer, a little tighter, something that he doesn’t seem to mind as his big hand caresses your spine. He smells like cologne, it’s the one he was wearing that night in New York, that had your apartment smelling like him for the days afterward.

He pulls back, small smile on his lips, “It’s nice seeing you again,” It makes you smile too as you stare into each other’s eyes wordlessly.

“Alright lovebirds, maybe it’s time to sit down?” Apson says, making you and Joost chuckle awkwardly, reminding you of why you’re here in the first place.

—

After some more catching up with everyone and a few glasses of wine, you can confidently say you’re relaxed and having fun— once again proven to have been overthinking. You’re sitting across from Joost, unintentionally noticing every tiny detail about him, the little smiles, the dimples, all of his mannerisms that you adore so much.

He’s oblivious to it but you’re not the only woman who keeps eyeing him tonight. In fact, the girl next to you has been practically burning holes in his face by staring so hard— and needless to say, it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.She’s pretty, her long blonde hair styled in loose curls and her maxi black dress so simple yet so perfect on her. It makes you sick, even though it shouldn’t be and you know it— but you can’t help the growing jealousy within you the more you stare, her eyes hungry for him and every one of her moves deliberate to make him acknowledge her but he never does.

“I’m going for a smoke,” Joost says as he stands up from his chair, hands digging into his jacket’s pockets to find his pack of cigs.

The blonde girl looks up at him with a mischievous smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement, once again getting on your nerves— to be fair, you shouldn’t be mad at her, letting your envy consume you like a little girl but the alcohol makes it a little hard for you to control your emotions in the moment.

“Are you coming?” He asks, knowing you haven’t smoked yet tonight.

You sigh a little frustrated, not thinking about it much “Not in the mood.”

Joost pauses for a moment, the tilting of his head showing his confusion about your sudden change in attitude. Nevertheless, he gives you a small nod and leaves… you feel somewhat bad now, maybe you should go out there and keep him company.

But before you can even get up, that same blonde girl is already making her way to the exit door, her floral scent pervading the air along the way.

You take a deep breath; okay now you definitely feel like smoking. All the possible scenarios run through your mind at once— what if Joost gets her number? Or worse, takes her back home with him? You don’t think about it much longer and walk towards the door and out the restaurant.

The street is almost empty by now, cold air blanketing your body. Joost is just a few meters away, back rested against the brick wall as he lights his cigarette and— as expected— the girl is standing in front of him, making conversation; you can’t hear what she says but it makes Joost smile, giving you enough of a reason to feel even more jealous, a horrible feeling in your throat.

He doesn’t notice you, says some joke that causes her to giggle; you contemplate going back inside, whether this is embarrassing for you— after all it’s none of your business, you’re not his girlfriend anymore. But the pure idea of Joost taking another girl home, kissing her, fucking her the way he did you makes you want to puke, it fills you with rage.

You walk up to them, the sound of your sharp heels on the ground catching his attention. The girl turns around, obviously bothered by your presence and you notice the unlit cigarette on her hand; classic way to approach someone, you think.

You glance at her, bitter smile on your lips. “Can I have one?” You ask Joost, standing closer to him.

“Thought you didn’t wanna smoke right now,” He says but still hands you the pack of cigarettes from his pocket. You pull one out, coaxing him to light it for you as the girl watches.

Now that you came here, you don’t know what to say exactly, the awkward silence making you nervous. Jealousy has always been a bad trait of yours, though really you’re all bark and no bite, never actually acting upon it; if anything Joost always found it cute, teasing you about it endlessly.

“Is zij je vriendin?” (Is she your girlfriend?) The girl asks, pointing at you.

Joost giggles at that, causing you both to glare at him as his laughing comes to a halt. ”Was vroeger,” (Used to be) He replies, taking a short puff from his cigarette, “Het is ingewikkeld.” (It’s complicated)

You slightly furrow your brows, trying to translate the words in your head but to no avail. The girl nods, less confident in her attitude now as she hands the cigarette back to Joost and slowly leaves, mumbling something which you assume to be goodnight.

You’re left alone with Joost, remaining silent as all kinds of thoughts race in your mind. Once again, it’s you and him smoking against a wall, tension filling the air, almost like you’re having deja vu.

“What a nice girl,” Joost says, his tone an exaggerated delight. You nod quietly and take a deep inhale of smoke, nicotine filling your lungs— he’s obviously teasing you and it annoys you how well he knows you, always making it impossible for you to hide from him.

With a simpering smile, he looks down at you and asks, “And really pretty, don’t you think?”

“Yeah she’s cute,” You say as nonchalantly as you can, peering at Joost when he lets out a low laugh as if he’s mocking you. “What?”

He looks back at you with a cocky smile, “You’re jealous,” He says with such confidence it drives you insane, makes you want to punch his pretty face (and kiss it better afterwards).

You scoff, “No I’m not,” You avoid his eyes, the uncertainty evident in your words.

“Admit it,” He smirks, you feel his eyes scanning your face that has a pinkish blush on it from his teasing, though you’d like to think it’s because of the cold.

You glance at him as he raises an eyebrow, waiting for your response. “You’re so full of yourself,” You chuckle, blowing the smoke away from his face.

Joost giggles, more so amused than anything else by the way you’re acting, so timid for nothing.

“And you’re jealous.”

You roll your eyes, suppressing a smile. “Fine,” You sigh as he puckers his lips a little, a sly smile hidden behind them. “I admit I was a little… bothered by a girl flirting with my ex. So sue me for that.”

Joost crosses his arms, grinning widely. “Really?” He emphasizes, taunting you.

“Yes, really.” You repeat his words back to him with the same assertive tone.

“Is bothered the new way to say jealous?” He feigns confusion, his finger scratching the top of his head.

Unbelievable, you think. You groan, stubbing out your cigarette with your shoe,

“You know what, I’m going back inside.”You’re not actually mad with him but more so matching his playfulness and teasing him back.

When you turn around to leave Joost gently tugs at your arm, pulling you back to him as he throws his finished cigarette away.

“Hey, hey, hey, come on, I’m sorry.” He giggles, using this as an opportunity to grab you by the waist, bring you closer as you pout your lips at him. “I get it,” He murmurs.

“You get it?” You raise an eyebrow, unsure of what exactly it is that he’s getting. His touch on your skin is strong, it makes you lightheaded as you look up at him under the yellowish street lights.

He nods, “I’d be jealous too if some guy was flirting with you,” You smile a little, fighting to keep your composure. Joost was never the toxic and overprotective type, but you loved it whenever he got a little jealous, expressing it in petty but cute ways be it kissing you more than usual or being clingy with you in front of other men.

“Yeah?” You ask him.

“Mhm.” His lips are close to yours, the tips of your noses brushing together. “Although I bet tons of guys have flirted with you since I left New York, am I right?” His voice is lower, raspy sending a warmth through your body even in the middle of the cold night.

“Maybe,” You bite your lip, slowly sliding your hands up the sides of his neck.

Some men had indeed approached you in those months, none of whom you bothered giving a chance to. It didn’t matter how attractive or successful or charming they were— they weren’t Joost and that was enough for you to turn them down.

Joost presses a few kisses on your jaw and the crook of your neck, his lips wet and soft on your skin. “I bet you flirt a lot too,” He mumbles against your neck as tingles erupt all over your body. “Talking to anyone but me,” His words are bittersweet, petty as he nips at your skin and makes you moan quietly. You didn’t text me either, is what you want to say but bickering right now seems a little pointless.

“Let me make it up to you,” You whisper, holding his face in your hands as you lean in to kiss him. Your lips press together hungrily, savoring the taste of wine and cigarettes on his tongue. His hands grab your ass tightly, squeezing it as you let out little sounds into the kiss, sounds that make Joost crumble into pieces all the more. Your sweet scent stimulates his senses, makes him go crazy as he feels himself grow harder.

“Oh damn,” You cut the kiss short, turning around to see Apson and Teun, a shared amusement on their faces— definitely not awkward.

“Okay! I guess we’re not smoking after all,” Apson says, urging Teun to go back inside as you hear Joost laugh behind you.

“No, it’s okay. We were gonna head back inside anyways,” You step back from Joost, fixing your skirt as you wave them over to where you are.

“We were?” Joost asks, you slap him on his arm smiling. “Okay,” He nods, following you inside as he mumbles something to the guys which makes all of them laugh; you assume he scolded them for interrupting your heated moment, seeing as he playfully hits Tantu on his shoulder.

“Wait,” You stop him before he pushes the glass door open, gently grabbing his chin in your hand. Joost looks down at you like a confused puppy, it almost makes you laugh as you brush your lip gloss off his lips. “There.” You smile as he thanks you.

“My place tonight?” He whispers softly, brushing his thumb against your cheek and you nod.

Alanis and Lyon are still in their seats, talking when you come in. They look up at you, smile knowingly at each other because it is so obvious what you and Joost were doing out there, your faces flustered and Joost’s hair unruly.

Joost, as always, breaks the awkward silence, says something about how his steak is shaped like Belgium… which works well enough to switch the subject. Peeking at your right, you notice the blonde girl from before— she seems fairly disappointed, not looking at Joost anymore and it gives you a weird sense of pride, knowing he picked you again, that you’re the one going home with him tonight; hopefully you’ll talk to him later, tell him the thing you’ve been meaning to say all night.

—

Your friends ended up going for drinks after the dinner which you and Joost politely declined, opting to walk the twenty minutes back to his house.

There’s a light breeze in the air, giving you enough of an excuse to get closer to Joost and hug him from behind, your arms around his stomach— maybe it’s too romantic of a gesture but he clearly doesn’t mind as he keeps on fumbling with his set of keys, a small smile on his lips.

Finally unlocking the door, he ushers you inside his house; it’s different to his old one, bigger and surprisingly cleaner than you’d expected, though still cluttered with random objects here and there.

Joost notices the way you look around the dark room, the soft moonlight coming in through the big windows. “Like it?” You feel his hand on your ass, his body pressing you gently against the door.

Placing both arms around his neck you smile, his chest warm against yours. “Yeah. You have good taste in furniture,”

“You should see my taste in women,” His words make you beam against his lips, teeth knocking together as he leans in to kiss you. You deepen the kiss, helping Joost with taking off his jacket that is quickly thrown somewhere on the floor behind him. He does the same for you, kissing along your jaw to your exposed shoulder as your leather jacket falls down to your feet.

Your hand travels down to his crotch, palming his erection which earns you a small sigh from him. Joost pulls you closer by the waist, strong hands caressing your curves as you continue teasing him, your fingers playing with the metal buckle of his belt. In the meantime, you start placing wet kisses on his jaw and neck, your little bites in between making him groan quietly.

“Those are a lot of hickeys,” Joost says.

“Just making sure no other girls approach you,” You mumble; it’s half serious half teasing, you know it turns him on when you’re possessive over him.

Joost smirks, fighting the urge to call you out for your jealousy once again, though he makes a mental note to tease you about it later. He’s too flustered to speak right now anyways, with the feeling of you everywhere; your lips on his neck, one thigh between his legs all while you’re trying to unbutton his shirt (and failing miserably at doing so)— you’re hungry for him and he likes that, likes knowing you’re as weak as he is on the inside, as your hot breath trembles on his neck.

“Let me help you schat,” He pulls back from you, focusing on the buttons on his striped button-up which he takes off at a tauntingly slow speed, biting back a smile when he hears you whine at the loss of contact. Your hands roam around his stomach and chest under his loosened shirt as he fully removes it, then blindly tosses it somewhere behind him.

He clicks his tongue, “So impatient,” He kisses you again, finger on your chin to bring your face closer.

“Yeah because I need you,” You breathe out, feeling his sly smile grow on your lips; it comes out more desperate, more whiny than you intended it to sound, your neediness making Joost’s cock twitch in his pants.

“Fuck,” He murmurs, biting his lip. “Come on, this way,” Taking your hand in his, he leads you to his bedroom— small and messy, full of his scent.

He sits you down on his poorly made bed, the back of your thighs meeting the cool wrinkled sheets. You watch as Joost begins to undo his belt, rubbing your legs together to loosen some of the tension in between them but it does nothing for you— the image of his big tattooed hands on the small metal letters of his belt, Albino, only adds to your arousal. You raise your foot slightly, nudging his calf as he glances at you, your doe eyes looking up at him, practically begging him to hurry up.

He chuckles, pushing his pants down. “So damn needy,”.

He kneels down on the carpet in front of you, the tender touch of his hands down your legs and his tight grip on your calves giving you goosebumps. He takes your high heels off, carefully putting them aside before his lips start littering your legs with kisses.

“Such a gentleman,” You coo, your breathing deepening with each peck on your skin as Joost gently pushes your legs open to gain more access to your inner thighs. There, he sucks on the sensitive skin, coaxing you to gasp; he hasn’t even fully touched you, yet you’re already melting under his touch, aching with need.

Joost stops at the hem of your skirt, his light blue eyes looking up at you from between your thighs, an image you wish you could capture. “Baby can I eat you out, please?”

A small smile forms on your lips. Who’s needy now?

You nod down at him, “Since you asked so politely.” Joost motions for you to stand up, sly grin on his face; he strips your skirt off, his palms aimlessly stroking your legs, giving you a small squeeze on your ass. He gently pulls your panties off, the lace fabric slightly sticking to your skin due to the wetness in your folds.

“Zo mooi,” His compliment sends a warm smile to your face as you stroke his hair. He plants another quick kiss on your clit, the tiny tingling sensation causing you to hiss, then guides you backwards against the bed until your back hits the comforter. Involuntarily, you bend your knees for him as he climbs into the bed, slightly hovering over you.

He leans down and kisses you hungrily, his thick fingers rubbing small circles on your clit as you moan loudly into the kiss from the sudden wave of pleasure. You feel him smile against your lips, a cocky smile at that.

He slowly pushes one finger into your slick folds, “You like that?” He purrs against your jaw. You nod repeatedly, muttering a soft yeah in between shallow breaths. Joost goes lower as he lies on his stomach, burying himself in your thighs, deep purple marks all over them from his previous kisses. Withdrawing his finger from you, he licks up your entrance, making you suck in a sharp breath as your thighs close together ever so slightly, pressing on his head.

He starts soft, his tongue flat near your clit making your skin prickle before he moves down, teasing your hole with just the tip of his tongue.

Impatiently, you push your hips forward, desperate to feel more of him; he nuzzles your core as you both let out a small laugh. “You want me to suffocate down here?”

You giggle, “I will suffocate you if you don’t hurry up,”

He grins, delving his tongue into your slit. You moan as you feel it swirling inside you slowly, making you clench. “Faster,” You breathe out, entangling your fingers in his hair, softly pulling at his golden hair strands. Joost picks up the pace as his tongue explores you, nudges your clit a few times to hear more of your breathy moans. He holds your legs open that are trembling as you chase your climax, your body burning with overstimulation. His thumb is stroking your clit in fast motions, causing you to whimper continuously and grasp at his hair to which he hums sending a vibration through your core.

With that, you come undone on his mouth as you let out a loud mixture of cries and curses. Joost lets you ride out your high, sucking at your lips and your clit. His chin is glistening with your release as he pulls back from you, plants a few gentle kisses on your thighs, letting you catch your breath.

You gaze at him as he sits up a little and grabs a condom from the nightstand. He’s a little sweaty, his face flushed and his hair looks messy as he runs his hand through it, He’s perfect.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He says as he takes off his boxers— your eyes flicker to his hard cock, the tip swollen and leaky with precum. You feel a little guilty, want to take care of him like he did you.

You giggle, narrowing your eyes at him, “That’s how that girl at the restaurant was looking at you, just so you know I’m not crazy or anything,”

“You’re still on that? Baby, I’m here with you now, you don’t have to worry about it,” He softly pulls your hand, making you sit up next to him, kissing you on your cheek.

Smiling softly, you take the condom from his hand, opening the wrapper with your teeth. “Joost?” You ask him as you carefully slip the condom on, feeling his veins along the way. He hums, coaxing you to keep talking. “Can I ride you?” You’re a little shy when asking him that and you don’t know why; today in general, you’re kind of nervous around him and he finds it funny, cute nonetheless.

“Hell yeah,” You look at him again, his warm smile comforting you.

He crawls past you, sitting against the plush headboard as you move to sit atop him. Your face is also flushed, beaming with the afterglow of your orgasm and Joost can’t help but kiss you again, slowly, whilst fully removing your top.

You take his shaft in your hands, adjusting yourself above him so that his tip is right at your entrance before you push yourself down onto him; the residue of your arousal makes it easier for him to bottom out, a drawn out groan leaving his mouth as he does so, feeling you tighten around the veins on his cock. You lift yourself up slightly until only the tip is inside of you before quickly sinking down onto his cock again— you continue this pattern, noticing the breathy moans that Joost lets out, his mouth opened ever so slightly and his brows furrowed.

You pick up your pace, placing both hands on his shoulders for support as Joost squeezes your tits in his warm hands. Locking eyes with him, you almost want to cry with how beautiful he looks, how good his cock feels inside of you, how perfect you are for one another.

“What’s on your mind liefde?” He breathes out, a grunt slipping from his lips.

You bite back a moan, “Joost I want you,”

“You have me,” He chuckles.

“No,” You mutter, “I want you all the time. I love you,” You speak fast, desperate to convey your feelings to him. “I love you so much,” You repeat, burying your face in his neck.

“Shit,” He groans as he starts thrusting into you, noticing that you’re growing tired. “I love you too,” His hands are tightly wrapped around your body, holding you in place as he slams his shaft against you— it’s fast and sloppy, makes you dizzy with pleasure, unable to suppress your loud moans. Your eyes tear up a little at the confirmation that he also loves you— it’s not the first time you hear it from him but you’ve missed it, you’ve missed him and this stupid city that you grew to love because of him.

The pressure is too much, easily leading you to your second orgasm tonight as you dissolve into pleasure, moaning Joost’s name repeatedly. He’s now the only one doing the work, pushing himself into you relentlessly as you kiss him softly on his face because that’s the most you can do right now with how much your legs are burning.

A little later, Joost comes inside of the condom, the sound of his deep moans (and a few whimpers he tries to suppress but fails) filling the room.

You collapse next to him and onto the bed, breathing deeply, your eyes heavy with exhaustion. Joost gets up wordlessly to put his boxers on again, coming back with a shirt on his hand and your panties. He sits down in front of you, gently pulling your tired body up so that he can redress you. “You’re gonna get cold,” He mumbles, his thoughtfulness bringing a sweet smile to your lips.

“Thank you,” You coo, enjoying the feeling of his shirt on your body; it’s warm and big, carries his scent that you love so much. “I like this shirt,”

“Yeah? Keep it. Y’know to have something remind you of me when you go back to New York,” He chuckles a little as he says that. You take a deep breath, looking at him with eager eyes. He senses a hesitation in you, tilting his head in confusion, “What is it?”

“I’m not going back,” You say, your voice close to a whisper. “To New York, I mean.”

Joost grins, “Don’t play with me dude,” He says, shaking his head.

“I’m not,” You chuckle, gently placing your hand on top of his. “I got offered a job here and I’ve been thinking about it,”

Joost’s eyes light up, his dimples prominent. “Liefde that’s great news,”

He hugs you, presses some kisses on your hair as you stroke his back— he never wants this feeling to go away. “Date tomorrow?” He asks in your ear.

“Mhm.” You smile and kiss him softly, staying in the comfort of his arms. You get a good feeling, one that you haven’t had in years; you will go on that date and things will work out between you and you will never let him go again.

“I love you.”

───────────────────────

thank you sm for reading!!! i hope this met everyone’s expectations lol 😭🥹

[lancermylove]

His Weaknesses, Fears, & Insecurities

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Pairing: Leaders x gn!Reader

Warning: None

This post only contains part of the HCs. To read the full HCs, click here.

———————————————

Malleus

His horns are sensitive to the touch. He’s glad he’s tall, and few can reach his horns.

Cakes are his krypto.

The prince has a fear of rejection. He has already been pushed away and left out so many times that he doesn’t want to think about people who are important to him pushing him away.

Speaking of being left out, the thought of being lonely and having no one around him shakes him to the core.

He has a habit of overthinking and overanalyzing.

Leona

Leona has a hard time adjusting to the cold weather. He braves through it but hates winter from the bottom of his heart.

He’s a beastman, so his ears are overly sensitive, not only from touch but also from sounds. When he hears high-pitched sounds, it makes him see red.

His body is so used to sleeping for most of the day that it has become his habit. If he has to go a day without naps, Leona is grumpy af.

Pride, you say? He refuses to accept it. It’s not his weakness; it’s his birthright – he’s a lion and a prince.

Fear of losing you. This is a deep-rooted fear, but he will not be able to tell you.

Idia

He’s sensitive to the sunlight. Not only is his skin pale, but he stays cooped up in his room most of the time, so his skin can’t handle the sun.

Lack of sleep. Why sleep when you can dedicate that time to video games?

Major social anxiety. Crowds = nope.

Not able to make decisions. While he may not overthink as much as others, Idia is naturally indecisive, especially if the decision includes other people, like where do you want to eat?

Azul

Distrust in others, but also others don’t trust him. Due to his past, he doesn’t trust people, at least not easily. When others don’t trust him, he calls them smart.

He doesn’t like showing his octopus form, but Azul can’t go one day without being near water. He always misses being under the ocean, but shh, you didn’t read anything.

He has a lot of insecurities due to his past, and even if he is sensitive to certain things, Azul won’t let others see it.

Azul does not take failure well. He eventually bounces back, but it takes a strong mental toll on him.

Riddle

Quick tempered, but no one dares to tell him this. Riddle knows somewhere in his heart but refuses to let his brain process it.

He is a perfectionist and sees no problem with it. Does he want everyone to be perfect? No, he’s just too strict with himself because people have high expectations of him, and Riddle will live up to them.

Riddle has a fear of disappointing people, especially since his overblotting incident. He still can’t believe he broke one of the biggest rules for any magic user.

Vil

His face has to be in perfect condition all the time. If he notices even one hair out of place, Vil will get stressed (and fix it immediately).

His skin is also delicate, so any harsh conditions will affect him immediately. But he has a skin care product for everything, so his skin will bounce back no matter what.

Wrinkles. He better not see even one wrinkle; otherwise he will face mask the hell out of it. He fears aging and doesn’t want to see anything happen to his beautiful skin.

Being compared to Neige. He has learned his lesson after his overblotting, but Vil still can’t handle being compared to Neige.

Kalim

Kalim gets so hyper that he runs out of energy very quickly. But his energy comes back just as fast.

His overly trusting nature gets him into trouble quickly and makes him an easy target for others. He sees good in everyone and can’t see the red flags. Luckily, Jamil reads the situation fast enough and stops Kalim from getting badly hurt.

He tends to blame himself for things that are out of his control. Even if someone explains it’s not his fault, Kalim feels guilty and continues to feel that way for days.

His sheltered upbringing makes him oblivious to many things, especially danger and people with ulterior motives.

———————————————

➣ All Masterlists

➣ TWST Masterlist: [Genre][By Characters]

➣ Tumblr Only ML: TWST ML

[froggiewrites]

Hi! I saw that your requests were open and I couldn't wait to jump on the ask train aahhhh >< If it's ok with you, can I request for hurt/comfort with GN!reader x Ace? Prompt is: Ace survived Marineford physically, but mentally and emotionally, he's relapsing due to everything that's happened. Reader tries to comfort him while he has an anxiety attack maybe :((

If this request is too triggering for you, then no worries! Hope you have a good day ^^

~ 🍂 ace's widow ♠️

This was the first request in my inbox, and what a perfect one to start with! Thank you so much for sending it in, I loved writing this. I love writing anything for Ace, and honestly as someone who really struggles with anxiety this was really therapeutic to write.

Do I Deserve It?

Pairing: Ace x Reader

SFW

Summary: Ace has been struggling lately, and you do your best to help. Warnings: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Vague Suicide Ideation, Marineford Spoilers/Mention Word Count: 1.3k

Ace hadn’t been himself today.

You noticed it in the morning, when you woke to an empty, cold bed. Ace typically slept in as late as he could, his snoring being the first sound you hear every morning. After the bloody battle at Marineford, you had been waking up alone more and more. You sometimes find him alone on the deck, staring into the horizon, a distant look in his eyes. When he sees you, he usually comes back to himself, smiling his wonderful, boyish smile, though his eyes remain dim and glassy. He’s somewhere far away, locked inside his own mind, only bringing parts of himself back long enough to kiss you softly, hold your hands, and assure you he’s okay.

This morning he didn’t even notice you were there. You were worried about disturbing him, bringing him back from wherever he had gone too quickly and causing damage you didn’t know how to fix, so you gave him a little time. You found Marco, quietly letting him know that your lover didn’t seem to be in a good mindset, before making Ace a small breakfast and tea.

“I have something for you, my love.” You keep your voice quiet and soft, afraid too loud or sharp a tone will send him running like a frightened animal. His head whips around at the sound of you, his shoulders tensing even more, but he doesn’t leave. That’s something. You set the plate next to him, and gesture for him to take the steaming mug directly. He lifts his hands, ready to receive, but they’re shaking so badly they can’t even wrap around the ceramic properly.

“Ace?”

He’s looking at you, blinking just slightly too rapidly, brow beaded with sweat. He tucks his hands under his thighs, trying to hide what you’d already seen. “Thanks. You can uh–you can set it down there.” His voice is ragged, barely able to get past his quick and shallow breaths.

“My love, are you alright?” You don’t know why you ask the question when you both clearly already know the answer. You set the mug down carefully before gently reaching to untuck his hands from under his legs. You go slowly, giving him ample chance to pull away, but he allows you to take his hands in yours. They’re clammy and unsteady, fingers twitching like he’s readying himself for a fight. “What’s wrong?”

He takes in a shaky breath, trying to steady himself, then another, then another after that. Before you realize it, he’s hyperventilating, and he throws himself into you, burying his face into your neck. You press one of your hands to his chest in surprise, and you can feel his heartbeat racing beneath your fingertips. His arms tighten around you, his nose burying itself deep in your neck, and you feel a wetness against your skin.

Instead of trying to speak, you start gently running your fingers through his hair, smoothing any tangles you find. He holds you tightly and shakes for several minutes, gasping for air. You pretend you don’t hear the choked breathing against you, and pretend you don’t hear how much he struggles to speak when he finally begins to mumble against your neck. “I’m horrible.”

“What?”

“I’m horrible. Awful. I–I should have–”

“Portgas D Ace, don’t you dare say what I think you’re about to say.” You want to pull him out of your neck and force him to look you in the eyes, make him know that what he was about to wish for was the only horrible thing here, but you worry if you pull him back you’ll untether him further and he’ll completely lose himself to the fears that have clearly overtaken him. You settle for kissing the side of his head the best you can without disturbing him, and taking on a gentler but still firm tone of voice. “I’m so glad you’re still here. I can’t imagine a world without you.”

“I am too. That’s the–” He lets out an angry huff at how he’s struggling to articulate, and you see small flames lick up his back. You use one hand to slide gently down his spine, extinguishing them. “So many people died. So many. And Pops almost–” His voice cracks, and he only just barely manages to hold back the new tears forming on his lashes. “For me. Some worthless, useless kid with tainted blood. And I–I’m happy about it. How sick is that? I’m happy I’m alive, even after all of that. Happy they wanted to do that for me. I’m the worst man alive. I deserved it.”

“Ace–” You don’t quite know where to start, so you pick a thread you know you can follow. “First off, it’s only right for a father to defend his son. Pops doesn’t regret a thing, and he wouldn’t even if things had gone worse. He’d do it for you. You’re his son.” 

His breath hitches again, and he lets out another quiet mumble. “I was so happy to see him. I kept telling myself it was okay, that it was better this way, but I was so happy to see him and know that I might live. Even if I didn’t deserve it. Even if things were worse with me here. I wanted to be allowed to live.”

“You are allowed to live. And every person there wanted you to. Still wants you to. You have no idea the good you’ve done, how many people you’ve helped. You’re a shining light, Ace, and none of us want you to be snuffed out.” Your hands rub soothing circles into his back, tracing lightly over the dimple at the bottom of his spine. His breathing slows slightly as his breaths get a little steadier. He’s still shaking in your arms, but less than earlier.

“I want to live. I want to keep going. But some part of me is still there, with the blade against my neck, and he’s begging for it to be over. It’s hard to ignore him.”

“I know it can be hard to hear anything over the voice in your head. But I promise you you have people here for you. I’m right here whenever you need me. Marco’s here. Pops is here. We all will help you in whatever way we can, whenever you need us. We love you, Ace, and we’re so happy you’re still with us. I would do all of it again if it meant keeping you safe, and I promise you everyone else feels the same. Even those of us who didn’t make it. We love you. We need you. We want you to live.”

You feel hot, wet tears against your neck again as he quietly cries into you. “I want to, too. I really want to.”

“So you will.”

“I will.”

You hold him for as long as he needs, long after his breakfast has gone cold and the sun has risen. The tension leaves him slowly but surely, and after a while you hear a soft snoring. You adjust him to a more comfortable position, leaning your back against the railing of the ship. You let him sleep as long as he needs, until the sun is high in the sky. Many members of the crew pass you, give soft looks of concern, but no one disturbs him.

Your talk doesn’t solve his problems, of course. They’re much bigger than a single conversation can solve. But instead of waking up to an empty bed, you start waking up to warm arms around you and a head buried between your shoulder blades or in your chest, listening to your heartbeat. You still find him on the deck, staring into the horizon, but instead of giving you a fragile smile when you find him he simply takes you into his arms, finding comfort in your presence. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and Ace certainly won’t be rebuilt in one. But there is always a first day, then the one after that, and another, until eventually you can’t remember what it felt like before the first bricks were laid. He can be happy, in time. You can’t wait to see it.