#you hear the voice of sol you ignore it

[iconchae]

OFF THE FIELD ➽ L.HS | 18+

PAIRING: football captain ! lee heeseung x tennis player ! afab reader. GENRE: smut, friends to lovers. SYNOPSIS: being friends with heeseung was hard, especially when you couldn't help but want to get fucked by him. but the plan turned into something else when you accidentally made him jealous. WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, mdni, friends to lovers, unprotected sex (please don't), kisses, contains cuss words, sexual content, fingering, boob play, dirty talk, pinning, marking, public setting, bondage, blind fold, hand cuffs, physical punishment, food play, rough, jealousy, possessiveness, lmk if I missed anything. WORD COUNT: 5.1k. (a/n: help— I just had this random idea and knew that I needed to make it asap. so here it is, I hope it's not too boring <3)

Being friends with Heeseung was hard. Not because you were envious of the girls who constantly fawned over him, but because your desire for him had grown into something you couldn’t ignore. Every smile, every laugh, every touch lingered in your mind long after you’d left his side, haunting you with the fantasy of what it would be like to have more. To have him.

The thought had become an obsession, one you indulged whenever you found yourself alone in your room, the door locked and curtains drawn. Today was no different. You lay sprawled across your bed, legs parted and back arched, with your clothes discarded in a messy heap on the floor. A smutty book was held in one hand, its pages creased from how often you’d returned to the same scene—the one that always set your imagination ablaze.

"His knee placed itself between her legs as she grinded against it, ruining his pants." The words sent a shiver down your spine, every line feeding the vivid image in your mind, only it wasn’t some faceless character; it was Heeseung. It was always Heeseung.

Your free hand moved with practiced ease, fingers pumping in and out of your wet heat as you tried to mimic what you thought his touch would feel like. Your breath hitched, lips parted as you gasped softly, the dull sound of your slick movements filling the quiet room. You pressed your fingers deeper, arching into the sensation, desperate to chase the high that only thoughts of him could bring.

You imagined his strong hands on your hips, his knee pressing between your thighs, guiding you with that confident smirk you knew all too well. The idea of grinding against him, of feeling the hard muscle of his leg beneath you, made your core tighten, a rush of heat flooding your senses. You quickened your pace, fingers curling just right, as you let the fantasy consume you completely.

Your head fell back against the pillow, your moans growing louder, more desperate. You could almost hear Heeseung’s voice, low and teasing, urging you on, telling you how good you felt, how perfect you were for him. The thought of him seeing you like this, legs spread and completely undone by the mere idea of him, sent a jolt of pleasure through you.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle the sounds escaping your throat as your hips bucked against your hand, the tension building rapidly. The book slipped from your grasp, forgotten as your need overtook you. You closed your eyes, surrendering to the fantasy fully—Heeseung’s weight above you, his breath hot against your neck, the rough drag of his knee between your thighs, and the deep, aching pressure of him finally inside you.

Your climax hit you suddenly, your whole body tensing as you cried out, your fingers working frantically to prolong the blissful wave of pleasure. The image of Heeseung burned brightly behind your eyelids, his name almost slipping from your lips in the throes of your release. As the intensity slowly ebbed, you collapsed back onto the bed, chest heaving and skin flushed, still haunted by the lingering sensation of what it would be like to have him for real.

You lay there, the room heavy with the scent of your arousal, heart still racing as the reality of your solitary pleasure settled in. Being friends with Heeseung was hard, but wanting him like this, with every fiber of your being, was so much harder.

“All the best for the match,” Heeseung said, his voice smooth and confident as he flashed you a smile that made your heart stutter. His dark eyes sparkled with a warmth that always seemed to melt your resolve, and for a moment, you found yourself lost in the depths of his gaze. Heeseung was effortlessly charismatic, his presence commanding the space around him, and you couldn’t help but get caught up in his orbit every time.

“Hmm…” was all you managed to mutter in response, your voice barely above a whisper. You tried to play it cool, but the way your breath hitched gave you away. Heeseung didn’t seem to notice, though—or if he did, he didn’t let on. He just gave you a playful wink before jogging off towards the football field, the muscles in his legs flexing with every stride, his figure quickly swallowed by the throng of players warming up.

You tore your gaze away, feeling the heat creep up your neck. You had your own match to worry about, and lingering thoughts of Heeseung wouldn’t help your focus. With a resigned sigh, you made your way to the locker room. The hallway was quiet, the distant echoes of sneakers squeaking on polished floors and the faint shouts from the football field filtering through.

Inside the locker room, you changed into your tennis outfit—short white pleated skirt, a fitted top, and mini shorts underneath to maintain your modesty. As you slipped on your wristbands and tied your hair back into a neat ponytail, you took a moment to steady your breathing.

Your fingers brushed the smooth fabric of your skirt, and you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of confidence. The outfit was both functional and flattering, hugging your form in all the right places, and it gave you a sense of poise as you prepared to step onto the court.

You walked out into the bright afternoon light, your tennis racket in hand, and approached the court where your match was set to take place. The air was electric, a blend of anticipation and the faint scent of freshly cut grass.

Spectators lined the perimeter, their eyes following every move with rapt attention. The rhythmic thud of tennis balls against rackets echoed, mingling with the occasional cheer or gasp from the audience. You could feel the pressure of their gazes, the silent judgment of each swing, each step.

As the match began, you moved fluidly across the court, your feet light and quick on the asphalt. Each time the ball soared toward you, you met it with a sharp, confident strike, the satisfying crack of your racket cutting through the air. Your skirt fluttered with each pivot and jump, but your mini shorts kept you secure, shielding you from the scrutiny of wandering eyes.

The game demanded all of your focus; your senses were attuned to the rhythm of the ball, the strategic placement of your opponent, and the calculated timing of each hit.

Despite the concentration required, your mind kept drifting back to Heeseung. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was watching, even from afar. Was he thinking about you the way you were about him? The tension between you two had been palpable lately—small, lingering touches, the way his eyes would darken when they settled on you for too long, and the subtle, unspoken pull that drew you closer every time.

The sun bore down on you, beads of sweat trickling down your temples, but you powered through each rally, refusing to let fatigue show. The crowd's murmurs grew louder with every successful shot you made, your confidence swelling with each point won. As you neared the end of the match, you saw a familiar figure out of the corner of your eye—Heeseung, standing just outside the crowd, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed intently on you.

He was dressed in his football uniform, his hair slightly damp from practice, and the way his jersey clung to his frame made your pulse quicken. Heeseung’s expression was unreadable, a mix of concentration and something else, something deeper that made your skin tingle. You felt a surge of adrenaline, the heat of his gaze adding fuel to your movements.

With one final, decisive swing, you sent the ball flying past your opponent, sealing your victory. A round of applause erupted, but all you could focus on was Heeseung. He uncrossed his arms, clapping slowly, a small, proud smile tugging at the corners of his lips. As you made your way off the court, you could feel the flush in your cheeks, partly from exertion but mostly from the thrill of knowing he had been watching.

Heeseung met you at the edge of the court, his eyes gleaming with a mix of admiration and something else—something that made your stomach flutter. He stood close, closer than usual, the faint scent of sweat and grass clinging to him, and you could feel the tension crackling between you like static.

“You were amazing out there,” he said, his voice low and warm, carrying that same electric charge. He reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “Really. You kicked ass.”

“Thanks,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly under his intense gaze. His hand lingered near your face, and for a moment, you thought he might pull you closer. Your breath caught as his thumb brushed against your cheek, lingering just a second too long, his touch soft yet charged with unspoken intent. The way he looked at you, as if he was fighting the urge to lean in and close the distance, made your heart pound in your chest.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, his voice husky, his eyes searching yours as if he already knew the answer.

“Just… thinking,” you murmured, unable to meet his gaze directly. You were painfully aware of how close he was, the heat radiating off his body, the way his presence seemed to engulf you entirely. Your fingers tightened around your racket, a flimsy attempt to anchor yourself against the overwhelming urge to lean into him, to let the magnetic pull between you finally snap into place.

“About what?” Heeseung pressed, his voice dropping lower, his breath fanning across your cheek. His proximity was intoxicating, every nerve in your body alight with the promise of what could be.

“About… us,” you confessed, barely audible, but Heeseung heard you. His expression softened, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips, as if weighing the gravity of your words.

Heeseung’s hand slid to the back of your neck, his thumb tracing light circles that sent sparks skittering down your spine. He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, the space between you charged with a simmering tension that begged to be broken.

“I’ve been thinking about us, too,” he whispered, his lips just a breath away from yours, the air thick with unspoken desire. The world around you blurred, the noise of the crowd fading into a distant hum as the two of you stood there, caught in the precipice of something more.

As you stand in the dimly lit boy's changing room, the mirror in front of you reflects the surreal scene unfolding. You didn't know how it happened or when it happened but right now, Heeseung, your best friend, has you pinned against the lockers, your legs wrapped around his waist as he holds you up.

His fingers, long and thick, are buried deep inside you, eliciting gasps and moans from your lips. The smell of sweat and testosterone fills the air, mingling with the scent of your arousal. Heeseung grunts softly, his breath hot against your neck. "You're so tight," he growls. "Like a vice around my fingers." His hips buck against you, his hard length rubbing against your thighs through his football shorts.

You bury your face in his neck, your fingers clutching at his broad shoulders. "Feels so good," you pant. "More, Heeseung. I want more." Your words spur him on, and he adds a third finger, stretching you wide.

Heeseung starts to pump his fingers in and out of you, his thrusts deep and relentless. The sound of his fingers slamming against your pussy echoes through the changing room, mixing with your cries of pleasure. Your legs tremble around him, your toes curling as he hits that sweet spot inside you.

Heeseung's voice is low and commanding. "You like that, baby? You like me stretching out your little hole?" His dirty talk sends shivers down your spine. You nod, unable to speak, and bite down on his shoulder to muffle your moans.

With a grunt he pulls down his shorts along with his boxers, Heeseung lifts you higher and aligns the thick head of his erection with your slick opening. He pauses, his dark eyes locked onto yours in the mirror's reflection. "Ready for me, love?"

He slowly pushes into you once you nod eagerly, the stretch sending a rush of pleasure through your body. You throw your head back, letting out a loud moan as he fills you completely. His cock throbs inside you, the sensation making you quiver.

Heeseung grips your hips tightly, his fingers digging into the flesh. "Look at us," he growls, nodding at the mirror. You look up, your eyes meeting his intense gaze in the reflection. He begins to thrust into you, slowly at first, then harder and faster. As Heeseung fucks you, the sound of your slapping skin and heavy breathing fills the changing room. Your breasts sway with each thrust, your nipples hardening into tight peaks inside your sports bra.

He reaches up to unhook your bra, throw it away and caress your breasts, his fingers brushing against your rigid nipples. You mewl at the sensation, your body tensing as pleasure courses through you. Heeseung's grip on your hips tightens as his pace quickens. "Touch yourself," he demands. "Play with your pretty little pearl while I pound into you."

You obey, reaching down to rub your clit in tight circles. The combination of Heeseung's thick cock and your own fingers sends you hurtling towards an intense orgasm. Your legs shake, your walls clenching around his dick as you scream in ecstasy. "AH! AH! AH!"

Heeseung's face contorts with pleasure as your inner muscles milk his flesh. He lets out a low growl, his voice hoarse as he rasps, "You're going to make me come, baby. Keep squeezing me like that." His words egg you on, and you tighten your legs around him, pulling him deeper with each thrust. He buries his face in your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin as he reaches his peak. He grunts loudly, his hips jerking as he spills into you.

As he finishes, you feel his hot cum filling your pussy, the sensation pushing you over the edge into another intense orgasm. You scream his name, your body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. "HEESEUNG! HEESEUNG!"

Heeseung catches his breath as he slowly pulls out, a smug grin on his face. He watches as his cum drips down your inner thighs, leaving you feeling deliciously dirty and satisfied. "Damn."

The entire week had passed in an agonizingly slow blur, and the tension between you and Heeseung was almost unbearable. After finally crossing that line with your best friend—exploring the boundaries of friendship in ways you’d only ever fantasized about—he seemed to vanish from your life entirely.

He didn’t call, didn’t text, and somehow always seemed busy or just plain uninterested whenever you crossed paths. It was driving you crazy. Did he regret it? Did he not enjoy it? Was he simply avoiding the awkwardness? A dozen scenarios ran through your mind, each more unsettling than the last.

Tonight, you were at a party hosted by a mutual friend, a buzzing, crowded house filled with laughter, loud music, and the faint scent of spilled beer. You found yourself in a conversation with Jay, whose playful grin and easygoing charm had always put you at ease. He had an arm casually slung over your shoulder, his presence comforting yet strangely thrilling, as he ruffled your hair in that friendly, older brother kind of way. “You’ve been working out, huh? Your muscles are so big, Jay,” you commented, giving his bicep a squeeze.

You didn’t notice the way Heeseung’s eyes narrowed from across the room, his jaw set in a hard line as he watched the interaction. Jay chuckled, leaning in just a little closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Sweetheart, I’ve got something else even bigger,” Jay teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, caught off guard by the sudden flirtation, and you quickly turned your gaze away, hiding your embarrassment behind a shy smile.Heeseung’s grip on his drink tightened, his knuckles whitening. Every laugh you shared with Jay felt like a deliberate jab, every touch like a betrayal. He tried to play it cool, leaning against the wall with a casual air, but his eyes told a different story—one of jealousy, frustration, and a growing sense of possessiveness that he couldn’t quite control.

By the time the party ended, Heeseung was practically seething. He watched as you politely waved goodbye to Jay, who winked at you before heading off with a carefree swagger. You didn’t see the way Heeseung’s gaze followed Jay, almost daring him to look back, but it didn’t matter—Jay was oblivious, and you were already heading toward Heeseung’s car.

The drive was tense, the silence between you thick and suffocating. Heeseung’s grip on the steering wheel was firm, his knuckles still pale. His eyes remained fixed on the road, but the stiffness in his posture screamed of pent-up anger and something more—a wounded pride, perhaps, or the sting of seeing you so easily entertained by someone else.

“So, you like Jay or what?” Heeseung finally spoke, his voice laced with a bitter edge that you didn’t immediately catch. You turned to face him, brow furrowing slightly at the question.“I mean, he’s good,” you replied honestly, oblivious to the storm brewing beside you. “He’s nice. And he’s a gentleman.”

Heeseung let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head as he tightened his grip on the wheel. “Gentleman? That guy was undressing you with his eyes the entire night.”

You shrugged, not really sure where this was coming from. “Not that I mind.”

Heeseung’s jaw clenched, a muscle ticking just beneath the skin as he fought to keep his composure. “You don’t mind?” His tone was sharp now, the undercurrent of jealousy unmistakable.

“Hm,” you murmured, looking out the window, trying to ignore the tension between you. It felt suffocating, and for a moment, you wondered if maybe you had pushed too far. But then again, Heeseung had been ignoring you first.

Heeseung exhaled harshly through his nose, the car suddenly feeling too small, too cramped. “You’ll regret that answer,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. You glanced over at him, catching the flicker of something dark and possessive in his eyes—a promise of payback, of making you realize just how much he wanted you to be his, and only his.

He pulled the car abruptly into an empty parking lot, the tires screeching slightly as he parked with more force than necessary. Before you could question what was happening, he was out of the car, rounding the front with long, determined strides. He yanked open your door, the sudden rush of cool night air sending a shiver down your spine.

“What are you doing?” you asked, startled as Heeseung pulled you out, his grip firm yet careful, his eyes blazing with something you hadn’t seen before.

“Showing you exactly why you don’t need Jay,” Heeseung replied, his voice low, almost a growl, as he backed you up against the side of the car. His hands found your waist, fingers digging in just enough to send a spark of anticipation racing through your veins. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I’m the only one you should be thinking about.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours—demanding, urgent, and filled with all the frustration and desire that had been building up between you. His hands roamed freely, tugging at your clothes with an impatience that spoke of his need to claim you, to remind you that he was the one who knew you best, who could make you feel this way.

There, against the cold metal of the car, you felt the full force of Heeseung’s jealousy and longing, the heat of his touch igniting every nerve in your body. He kissed you like he was trying to prove a point, his mouth hot and insistent against yours, each kiss a reminder that no one else could ever compare.

As his hands slid under your shirt, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake, you realized that Heeseung had no intention of letting you forget what you shared. He wasn’t just your best friend anymore—he was the one who had seen you, wanted you, and wasn’t afraid to fight for you. And in that moment, you knew that whatever this was between you, it was far from over.

Heeseung watched you squirm with a mixture of frustration and desire. He had wanted to punish you, to make you feel a fraction of the hurt he'd felt when he saw you with Jay. He paced around the room, his jaw clenched, hands balled into fists.

He paused by the dresser, running his fingers over the cold metal handcuffs. A dark thought crossed his mind, and he picked them up, along with a silk blindfold. He approached the bed, his steps heavy with intent.

He gently lifted your head, securing the blindfold over your eyes before turning his attention to the handcuffs. He fastened one to your wrist, the cold metal biting into your skin. He then attached the other end to the headboard, leaving you helpless and trapped.

You whimpered softly, your heart racing with fear and anticipation. Heeseung's breath was hot against your ear as he leaned in to speak. “You're going to stay like this until I'm done punishing you,” he whispered, his voice low and menacing. “And I'm just getting started.”

He dragged his fingers down your arms, your sides, your thighs, igniting goosebumps on your skin. He paused at your knees, lifting one leg and placing it on his shoulder. You felt exposed, vulnerable, as he ran his hands up your inner thigh, his touch maddeningly light.

Heeseung continued his merciless punishment, his hands and objects unknown to you, working in tandem to break you down emotionally and physically. The blindfold and handcuffs left you at his mercy, unable to escape or even anticipate his next move.

First, it was the ice. He trailed cubes up your thighs, over your belly, and between your breasts. You hissed at the cold touch, writhing on the bed. He chuckled darkly, “Cold, baby?” Without warning, he pressed an ice cube against your warm, wet center. You gasped, the sensation intense and overwhelming. You heard the clinking of ice against a glass, and then his voice, “You're so hot, and I'm making you cold. How does that feel, hmm?”

He held the ice cube against your pussy for what felt like an eternity, the cold seeping into your core. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the pain and discomfort mounted. Every now and then, he'd press the ice cube against your clit, making you scream into the blindfold.

“Please, Heeseung, I can't take it anymore!” you pleaded, your voice shaking with tears. “Shut up,” he replied coldly, pressing the ice cube against your sensitive clit once more. ”You're not allowed to speak until I say so.”

You bit your lip to keep from crying out, your body tensing as he continued the torturous punishment. He ran the ice-cold cube up and down your folds, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly, never giving you what you truly wanted. “Heeseung, please...”

Heeseung silenced you with a sharp tap on your inner thigh. “I thought I told you to shut up,” he growled. “Now, you've earned yourself a little extra punishment. Open your mouth.” You hesitantly parted your lips, and he slid the ice cube into your mouth.

Heeseung watched as the ice melted against your tongue, a cold tear trickling down your cheek. “Now, I'm going to fuck you with this vibrator,” he announced, pulling a sleek black toy from his pocket. Heeseung's words sent a shiver down your spine, the unknown heightening your senses. You felt the cool silicone toy press against your entrance, and you clenched your teeth around the melting ice cube in your mouth. He slowly pushed the toy inside you, inch by inch, stretching you deliciously.

"Now, let's see how long you can keep quiet,” Heeseung taunted, turning the toy to a low hum. Your breath hitched as the vibrations washed over you. He leaned close, his breath warm against your ear. “Remember, no speaking, no making a sound, no matter what.”

Heeseung's eyes glinted with determination. “This is going to be a long punishment.” He circled the vibrator around your clit, making you squirm in his grasp. Then he began to thrust it in and out of you, gradually increasing the speed. Your mouth was still stuffed with the melting ice cube, and you desperately tried to stifle your cries as the toy battered against your g-spot. Heeseung added the ice cube to the mix, pressing it against your asshole while the vibrator continued its merciless assault on your pussy.

Sweat beaded on your brow as you bit down on the ice to muffle your whimpers. The cold and heat mixed within you, overwhelming your senses. Heeseung intensified the torture by slapping your thighs and breasts, leaving reddened marks on your skin. Your hands were cuffed above your head, leaving you helpless and at his mercy. You begged and pleaded, desperate to touch him, to feel his cock against your lips, but Heeseung remained firm. “Not until you learn to keep quiet,” he hissed, the vibrator still buzzing furiously inside you.

With each unfulfilled thrust, your resolve crumbled. You let out a muffled cry, your body bucking against the handcuffs and the cold sheets. Heeseung paused, his face hard. “Looks like someone needs more training.” Heeseung pulled the vibrator out of you, leaving a shivering and needy mess. His fingers traced your thighs, up to your hips, to your breasts, and finally to your jaw. He squeezed it gently before whispering, “Beg me again.”

You were already panting and desperate, but you mustered your strength and whispered, “Please, let me touch you. Please, I need you inside me.” Heeseung smirked and slowly lowered his head between your thighs. Heeseung's tongue traced circles around your clit, driving you to the brink of madness. You arched off the bed, straining against the handcuffs as he increased his tempo. Your cries became moans, then sobs as the pleasure became almost unbearable.

Just as you were about to shatter, Heeseung stopped. He rose from the bed, leaving you breathless and unfulfilled. “Not yet,” he said coolly, and walked out of the room. You heard the distant jingling of keys and the hum of the refrigerator. Moments later, he returned, carrying a tub of ice cream and a spoon. “Since you can't keep quiet, maybe some cold dessert will help,“ he taunted. He sat beside you and slowly fed you spoonfuls of the cold, sweet ice cream, ignoring your frustrated whimpers.

Heeseung scooped another spoonful and held it above your mouth. As you opened to accept it, he gently pressed the cold treat against your lips, then trailed it down your chin, across your chest, and between your breasts, coating your skin with the sticky sweetness.

He continued to spread the ice cream over your body, circling your breasts, pinching the hardened peaks, then dragging the cold, wet spoon down your quivering belly, and finally, parting your thighs to coat your swollen, throbbing folds.

He traced the edge of the spoon along your nether lips, leaving a cold, tingling sensation in its wake. You gasped, arching your back, moaning softly as he began to tease you using the ice cream as his tool. Heeseung's voice dripped with cold intent. “You wanted to touch him, did you not?” He slowly spread more ice cream over your feverish skin. “You called his muscles big? Well, now you'll learn the difference between boyish arms and a real man's physique.”

His touch grew harsher, his breathing heavier. “Every time you disobey, it'll be ice cream and cold showers. And you'll only get to touch me when I say so.” He lowered his head, his breath cooling the icy mess on your belly. “Understand?”

You nodded quickly, tears pricking at your eyes as he used the spoon to scoop up a generous helping of ice cream. He held it over your face, the cold droplets falling onto your cheeks and nose, before he pressed the spoon against your lips, forcing you to open wide and receive the punishment. As you lay there, blindfolded and handcuffed, you felt him lean closer. His breath tickled your ear as he whispered, “I'm going to teach you to appreciate what you have.” You heard the spoon clatter onto the table before his mouth was on yours.

He licked the ice cream from your lips, his tongue cold and demanding. He sucked on your tongue, his mouth moving to your cheek, his nose rubbing against your tears. He then moved down to your chin, licking the ice cream from your skin before moving to your neck, leaving a trail of cold kisses.

Heeseung gripped your thighs, his fingers digging into your flesh as he buried his face between your legs. He licked and sucked the ice cream from your folds, his tongue cold and unyielding. He nipped at your tender flesh, then soothed it with slow, languid strokes. He moved up to your chest, his mouth closing over a hardened nipple. He sucked the ice cream from your breast, his teeth scraping against your sensitive skin. He then moved to the other breast, giving it the same treatment before standing up and slapping your pussy with the cold, wet ice cream.

You hissed at the sudden cold and the sharp slap. He chuckled darkly. “Count,” he ordered, his voice cold. “And if you forget to, I'll start over.” He raised his hand, the cold, wet ice cream dripping from his fingers. “Ready?”

You nodded, bracing yourself. “One!” you cried out as the cold, sticky mess hit your core. He slowly dragged his fingers down, spreading the ice cream, then slapped your wet flesh again. “Two!” you moaned.

He continued the slow torture, his voice growing colder with each count. “Three... Four... Five...” Each slap was followed by the slow drag of his fingers, spreading the cold, melting ice cream. Your moans grew louder, your body tensing with each touch. “Six... Seven...”

His touch became gentler, his fingers slowly circling your entrance. “Eight... Nine...” He pushed two fingers inside you, the cold, wet sensation intensifying as he curled them upward. “Ten...” He leaned down, his warm breath on your ear.

He whispered, “Beg.” You whimpered, your hips bucking against his hand. ”Please... Please, Heeseung... I can't... I need to...” He silenced you with a hard kiss, his fingers moving faster inside you. “Beg properly,” he growled.

“Please, Heeseung... I'm going to... I'm going to explode... Please let me cum... Please, I need it so badly... I'll do anything... Just let me cum!” You begged, your voice breaking. Heeseung pulled his fingers out, leaving you aching and empty.

Heeseung smirked, his fingers still wet with your arousal. “What about Jay? You said he was big, didn't you?” He traced circles around your entrance with his cold fingers. “Are you thinking about him right now?”

You bit your lip, hesitating. Heeseung's touch became firmer, his voice harder. “Answer me. Is Jay on your mind as you lie here, handcuffed and begging for release?” He slowly pushed one cold, wet finger back inside you, then two, curling them upwards. “N-no...” you stammered, your breath hitching. “I'm not... I'm not thinking about him.” Heeseung's expression darkened. He added a third finger, his touch punishing. “Liar,” he hissed.

He pulled his fingers out, leaving you empty and aching once more. ”You want to think about Jay, don't you? You want to imagine his big, thick cock stretching your tight little pussy.” He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear.

Heeseung's anger melted away, replaced by a softness he hated to admit. He gently stroked your clit, trying to coax you into an orgasm. “Please, just cum for me,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I can't stand the thought of you thinking about him.” You whimpered, the intense pleasure Heeseung was wringing out of you. “I'm sorry...” you gasped, your hips bucking against his hand. “It's not... It's not like that... You know I only want you...”

Heeseung let out a shaky breath, his touch gentling. “Good...” he murmured, his fingers slowly circling your heat. “Just me... Say it.” You moaned, your head falling back. “Only you, Heeseung... Please, just you...”

“Only me...” Heeseung repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. He increased the pressure of his touch, watching as you writhed under him. Your cries of pleasure filled the room, drowning out any other thoughts or doubts.

You screamed as your orgasm crashed over you, your body shaking with the intensity of it. Heeseung watched, his heart pounding, before gently pulling you into his lap. He took your lip between his, kissing you softly as he held you close, his dominance gentling into a caring, protective embrace. You nuzzled into his neck, still catching your breath. Heeseung's hand was still in your hair, no longer holding you down but gently stroking through the strands. “Good girl, you're not thinking about Jay or anyone else again.”

Heeseung carefully unbuckled the blindfold, his touch gentle as he revealed your eyes to the dimly lit room. Then, he slowly unlocked the handcuffs, massaging your wrists tenderly. “Come here...” He pulled you into a tight hug, his voice soft.

You wrapped your arms around Heeseung's waist, burying your face in his chest. A moment of silence passed between the two of you, before he leaned down and whispered, “I've got you..”

“And you belong to me,” Heeseung murmured, his voice firm yet gentle. He tilted your chin up, his eyes locked onto yours. “No more talking to Jay, alright? You're mine, only mine...”

• september three — 08:56 pm

© iconchae | tumblr

[girlgenius1111]

give yourself a reason

engen!reader memories, and the present. changes. sol reflects on how different her life is now. good different. even if getting to the good was hard. here she is.

warnings: discussions of depression. sol gets into a fight. with people, and then a mug and a picture frame so, some blood.

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It was a bit of a deja vu moment, honestly. You were sitting in the dean’s office once again, only a couple months after the last time. Then, you had been pretending you didn’t care. A lot had happened since, and a casualty of the progress you’d made was that you could no longer pretend not to care. You did care. You cared so much, you thought you might throw up. 

You’d begged them not to call Ingrid. Begged. They had anyway. You couldn’t help but worry about her reaction to this most recent fight, though it hadn’t been your fault. You hadn’t been in trouble since everything had happened, and you weren’t quite sure what to expect. Would everything change? Would Ingrid still want you? Every set back you had, every mistake you made, had you convinced that Ingrid was going to change her mind, and send you back to Norway. You were working on it, thinking of yourself as worthy of their love, but it wasn’t easy, and you felt your eyes stinging with tears that had nothing to do with the beating your face had taken. 

You weren’t sure you could go back to not feeling loved, not when you’d been experiencing something so different recently. The dean didn’t seem to care that your face was rapidly swelling, that you were crying, or that you hadn’t stopped bouncing your knee since you’d been brought into the office. He’d already let the boys go with a warning. He hadn’t even called their parents. You didn’t know what to do when Ingrid arrived, didn’t know whether to try to explain, or to stay quiet and just take your punishment. 

You felt so weak, suddenly. Crying, in front of this absolute asshole? Normally, you’d never let a person you didn’t know well see you this emotional, but your face really hurt, and honestly, you just wanted a hug. You were pretty terrified, though, that you wouldn’t get one. 

That you didn’t deserve one. 

The speaker in the office crackled to life, then, and the secretary’s voice rang out into the room. “Ms. Engen’s guardian is here.” 

The dean took a break from glaring at you to hit the button on the speaker. “Send her in.” 

You directed your gaze at the ground and tried to make yourself as small as possible, hearing the door open behind you.

“Mi sol, are you okay?” Mapi said instantly, moving quickly into the room and crouching down next to your chair. You refused to look at her, and she knew she had to be careful about this. Mapi showing up instead of Ingrid was a relief, but only for a moment. Then, you were just worried that she was too mad to come get you. 

“I was expecting the elder Ms. Engen,” the principal began, though he was quickly interrupted by your sister’s girlfriend. 

“Ingrid couldn’t get away from work, and I am a guardian too. Her face is bleeding, and her hands. Has she been seen by the nurse?” Mapi asked bitingly, scowling at the man on the other side of the desk. 

He looked a little put out. “Well, no, we were-” 

“Jesus, she could have a concussion.” Mapi snapped, her gentle hand on your back completely contradicting her sharp tone.   

“I don’t think-” 

Mapi ignored his response completely, slowly moving her hand up and down your back. You were shaking, and Mapi knew that if she wanted to avoid a panic attack, she had to do something, soon. 

“Mi sol?” she asked in a much softer tone, frowning when you shook your head. You knew if you looked at Mapi you’d burst into tears, and you absolutely did not want to do that in front of the dean. 

Mapi thought for a minute, before she turned back to the man. “Can we have a minute please.”

It wasn’t really posed as a question, and the man frowned at Mapi before nodding somewhat indignantly and walking out of the room. As soon as the door shut behind him, you looked up, breaking Mapi’s heart with the terrified look on your face, and the rough sob that fell from your lips.  

“Oh, nena,” Mapi sighed, seeing the extent of the damage to your face for the first time. It was mostly bruises and a very swollen lip. Your knuckles were swollen, too, but there were very few cuts on your face, and for that, she was glad. Mapi’s hands flitted over your face, her own scrunched with worry. “I’m so sorry this happened.” 

“Is Ingrid mad? Is that why she isn’t here?” You choked out.

Mapi shook her head, carefully wiping a tear off your face. “No, no, she couldn’t get away from training. She isn’t mad, I promise, she sent me to come bring you to her so she could see you were okay.” 

“Are you sure she’s not mad?” 

“I promise, cariño. She is not mad at you.” Mapi replied seriously. “Tell me what happened.” 

“They came at me, Mapi, I promise I didn’t start it.” You cried, almost pleading with her to believe you. 

“I believe you, I believe you.” The Spaniard soothed. “Where are they?” 

“He let them go with a warning.” You told her, watching as her face hardened. She seemed to think for a minute, before she stood, gesturing for you to do the same. 

“Fuck this. I’m taking you to your sister. Ingrid and I will come back later to speak to the dean and see the security footage. Venga.” 

“Mapi, I’m in trouble,” you tried to tell her, but she just shook her head. 

“Not with us. We’ll deal with it later, I promise. I want to get you taken care of and calmed down first, and I don’t think I can do that here.” Mapi told you gently, pulling you out of the room when you nodded hesitantly. You hadn’t realized you were shaking intensely until Mapi had mentioned getting you calmed down. You supposed you were getting close to a panic attack, and just hadn’t noticed. 

You continued to tune out as Mapi led you out of the office, standing in front of you protectively when she addressed the dean. 

“Ingrid and I will be back later to discuss the situation. We’re leaving now.” She told him. 

He looked at her with an incredulous expression on his face. “She can’t just leave, we have to discuss her punishment.” 

“We can discuss it later.” Mapi repeated, turning without another word towards the door, guiding you out of the school. 

Once you were out the door, Mapi wrapped an arm around your shoulders, steadying your shaky steps. “Alright, we’re almost to the car, just hang on, okay?” 

You could only nod in response, starting to lose yourself in your head, clinging tightly onto Mapi. Time seemed to speed up, or skip ahead entirely as suddenly you found yourself in the passenger seat of the car, your sister’s girlfriend buckling your seatbelt for you. 

“In and out, nena. Just breathe. Everything is okay. No one is upset with you.” Mapi was saying, waiting for you to give a faint nod before she made her way over to the driver's side door. It was quiet in the car save for the hum of the engine and the gasping inhales and exhales coming from you every few seconds. 

“Tell me what you’re worried about.” Mapi instructed, taking your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“Ingrid- Ingrid is gonna be mad and make me go back to Norway,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as another wave of panic washed over you.

“That is not going to happen.” Mapi said confidently, grabbing her phone and clicking Ingrid’s contact. Her girlfriend picked up astoundingly quickly considering she was supposed to be training, and her voice over the phone made you both terrified and reassured at the same time. 

“We’re in the car, she was too upset, we can come talk to the dean later.”

“What do you mean she’s too upset? Is she okay?” Ingrid asked worriedly. 

“Talk to her.” Mapi instructed, holding the phone out to you. You looked at her pleadingly, but she just nodded encouragingly, eyes fixed on the road in front of her. “It’s okay, nena, just tell Ingrid what you told me.” 

Ingrid could tell when you took the phone, as she could suddenly hear your rapid breaths as you gulped in air and tried to get the words out. “Hey, it’s just me. You can tell me.” Ingrid said softly. 

You closed your eyes, focusing on the feeling of Mapi’s thumb tracing over the back of your hand instead of the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. “M’ scared you’re mad and you’re going to send me back to Norway.” 

“I’m not mad. This wasn’t your fault, just like the last one wasn’t, and I am not angry with you. You are not going back to Norway. You are staying right here with me and Mapi. You’re okay, Solstråle, I promise.” 

“Okay.” You said, nodding your head as you replayed her words over and over in your head. “Okay.” 

“Okay, sweetheart. I have to go, but Mapi is bringing you over, okay? I’ll see you soon.” 

Mapi quickly bid her girlfriend a goodbye before hanging up, though her hand didn’t release yours for the rest of the car ride. 

Getting to the Barça grounds was somewhat of a blur, and before you knew it, Mapi was leading you to the pitch where Ingrid was running drills. When Ingrid spotted you, loitering on the sidelines, she spoke a few quick words to Jona before making her way over.. You were half hidden behind Mapi, which was no accident, but the concern on Ingrid’s face brought another round of tears to your eyes. You stepped forward anxiously, bottom lip beginning to wobble. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Ingrid sighed, getting a quick look at the wounds on your face before you were barrelling into her and wrapping your arms tightly around your sister. “Hey, it’s okay.” She whispered, running her hand through your tangled hair in a soothing manner. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you blubbered. If you had been even a smidge calmer, you would have been embarrassed about sobbing into your sister’s training kit in front of most of the team. 

“Don’t apologize, Solstråle. Everything is okay.” She soothed, looking over your shoulder at Mapi, before pulling away from the hug to examine your face. She frowned deeply at the damage that had been inflicted, trying to shove her anger down. It would only scare you further, and you really didn’t need that right now. 

“It hurts,” you whimpered, flinching as Ingrid’s finger accidentally made contact with an already forming bruise. The way you were acting was so out of character for you, Ingrid felt her worry growing by the second. You were so upset, you were shaking and sobbing. It hadn’t really occurred to anyone how triggering this might be for you, what a reminder this fight would be. Not just of what had happened a few months ago, but of your time in Norway. There wasn’t a fight you’d gotten into that you didn’t have to take care of your own cuts and bruises. No one ever heard you out, no one was ever not mad at you. 

A fight had been the last straw before you were sent to Spain, and it was as if all the feelings you’d repressed during those occasions were flooding back through your body, until your nervous system was in overdrive. 

“Solstråle,” Ingrid said again, trying to get your attention back on her. You hummed in response, forcing your eyes to focus on your sister. “Two options, okay? We can have the physios patch your face up, or we can go see a doctor. What would you prefer?”

It was something Mapi had read in her definitely-not-a-parenting parenting book. Giving you options in a situation you were anxious about forced you to calm down a bit, and choose. It gave you a sense of control, while still ensuring that you did what had to be done. 

“Physios.” You told her, after just a minute of consideration. “Go back to training, Ingrid. I’ll be okay.” 

You were trying to be brave, Ingrid could tell. She allowed you this façade, and with both an encouraging smile and a promise that she’d come see you in a minute, she ran back to the pitch. Mapi led you inside, her arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders. 

The physios were a tolerable experience, completely allowing Mapi to direct them. They didn’t touch you unless you agreed, each time asking before they made sure your lip was okay, or inspected a forming bruise. You very rarely got to see intense Mapi off the pitch, and it was interesting to see it now. When she spoke to the physios, asking question after question about your injuries, she was dead serious. When she turned to you, though, to shoot you an encouraging smile or squeeze your hand, she was back to being the Mapi you knew. 

She took care of you like you were her own. 

------

Upon returning home, Ingrid refused to let you retreat to your room and hide yourself away. You’d spent too long alone, when you’d first arrived. She was going to support you, and she intended to prove that. 

So, you laid on the couch, your head in your sister’s lap, a Norwegian sitcom playing on the TV. Ingrid was holding ice to one of your eyes, glaring down at you anytime you tried to remove the other ice laid across your knuckles. Mapi was making pancakes in the kitchen, at your request. Scout was on the floor next to the couch, though he picked his head up to check on you every few minutes. 

You were home, and you couldn’t help but compare today to the last time.

Ingrid had come to the school, and been furious at you. Today, she was furious for you. 

They’d left you that night, to go off to some team dinner. Now, you weren’t quite sure that Ingrid was going to let you out of her sight for at least a few days. 

You’d been alone, then, and now you weren’t. 

And though today had been pretty horrific, it was another little reminder of how different everything was. You loved those reminders, and you got them often. You tried to remember each one, how good it felt. To be loved, to be seen. To be liked. To be cared for. It was new, and it always surprised you a little. Every time something happened, and you remembered what it had been like to be alone, Ingrid and Mapi were there to remind you that you weren’t anymore. 

-

-

-

It was just one of those days. 

You wanted to stay home, like you wanted to on that day. Before, when everything in the house had been tense and you’d barely spoken to your sister. School had been difficult back then, not that it wasn’t now, but more difficult. Ingrid knew how much you were struggling, but assumed it was a lack of effort on your part. And so, when you quietly asked her if you could stay home because you weren’t feeling the best, Ingrid hadn’t believed you. 

“Ingrid, please. I really don’t feel well.” You begged, fighting back the tears that were pricking at your eyes, even though you knew that they would probably help your case. 

“How? What doesn’t feel well?” Ingrid asked, trying to be patient. Your hatred of school was starting to bother her. She didn’t understand why you wouldn’t just try a little harder. At your work, and at making friends. 

You floundered for a minute, not sure how to describe what you were feeling. You supposed the word was depressed, but there was no way you’d admit to that. Ingrid didn’t need to worry about you like you knew she would if she understood what was really going on. At the same time, you wished desperately that she would see through your excuses. 

You’d been silent for too long, and Ingrid sighed, zipping up her bag for training and walking over to you. She didn’t look sympathetic, exactly, but she didn’t look as harsh as she normally did. 

“I know school is hard. But skipping isn’t going to make anything better, okay? You just need to try a little harder.” She said, resting her hands on your shoulders and looking intently at your face. As usual, your expression gave very little away. All you gave her was a small shrug, before you picked your bag up with a sigh and headed for the car. 

You were trying your best. How couldn’t she see that?

It hit you similarly today, as it had on that day.

 You wanted to lay in your bed and not move. Your body was heavier than normal. Breathing was hard, moving was harder. All you could do was think. And think, and think, and think. It wasn’t sadness that you felt, not necessarily. It was exhaustion, and an almost numb ache. 

You were pretty sure Ingrid wouldn’t make you go to school if you told her the truth, you just weren’t really sure what to say. It was nearing the time you were supposed to leave for school, though, and you still hadn’t gotten out of bed. It would only be a matter of time before Mapi came in to see why you hadn’t left your room yet. So, you dragged yourself out of bed, your whole body feeling too heavy, and you walked downstairs. 

Ingrid was in the kitchen, eating breakfast while Mapi made all three of your coffees. Your sister turned to look at you, her good morning dying on her lips when she saw the look on your face. It must have been pretty bad, if Ingrid’s reaction was any indication. 

“Are you feeling okay?” Ingrid asked, abandoning her breakfast to walk closer and place her hand on your forehead, checking for a fever. 

“No.” You said honestly, trying to breathe through the panic that always accompanied honesty. Mapi joined Ingrid in front of you, her brow creased in concern. She couldn’t figure out from looking at you what was going on, you just looked… wrong. Unlike yourself. 

“Are you sick?” 

“No. I just… I don’t feel right.” 

“What do you mean, Sol? What’s wrong?” Mapi asked, nudging Ingrid’s hand off your forehead to replace it with her own. 

“I don’t know how to explain it. I just want to go back to sleep.” You mumbled, a single tear falling down your face.

“Try to explain it to me?” Ingrid requested. You knew it was a request, though, and that made it easier to answer her. Her worry for you was coming off her in waves, and though you were pretty sure it was warranted, you didn’t want her to panic. 

“It’s just a bad day. I’ll be okay.”  

 Ingrid and Mapi exchanged glances, before your sister nodded slowly. You often described tough mental health days as simply  bad days. You didn’t like to be overly descriptive, or really admit what was going on, and that was the closest you’d get. 

“Okay, kjære. Go back up to bed.” 

“Thanks,” you muttered, moving to turn away. 

“Wait,” Mapi said, grabbing you by the arm and tugging you into a hug that was probably too tight, but felt nice all the same. Mapi’s hugs were always comforting, always made you feel safe. “You’ll be okay here by yourself?” 

You knew what she was asking, and you tried to speak clearly, even with your chin resting on the Spaniard’s shoulder. “I will, promise.” 

As soon as Mapi had released you, Ingrid was pressing a kiss to your forehead, a gesture that never really failed to make you emotional. You remember seeing your parents kiss her forehead when you were growing up. And while your parents never really did the same with you, Ingrid had. She was always willing to give you the love she was overflowing with, especially when you were sorely lacking it. 

“I love you, okay? Call me if you need me.” Ingrid said firmly, almost as if to reinforce how much she meant it. 

You agreed, promising yourself that you wouldn’t interrupt training. You knew they’d already be distracted by being worried about you, and you didn’t want to ruin their day anymore than you already were. 

The logical part of you knew this was ridiculous. It was getting easier and easier to identify unhealthy thoughts, but a part of you still believed them. Especially when you were already having a bad day. You didn’t want to be any more of a burden than you already were. 

You were the farthest thing from a burden for Ingrid and Mapi, but it was an almost insurmountable challenge to actually believe that. 

-------

You’d hoped, perhaps, that by resting right off the bat, you’d escape the worst of the depressive episode. This was a naive thought. Or maybe, you would have if you’d asked your sister to stay home with you. 

You really really didn’t want to be alone. It had been a while since you hadn’t felt safe around yourself, but here you were again. You thought you were done with this, over this. It was upsetting to realize that you weren’t, not completely. That this wasn’t something you could just… get over. It was a result of your brain chemistry as much as your lived experiences, and you could be smothered with all the love in the world. That wouldn’t fix the genuine problem inside your head. 

You were asleep when Ingrid got home. 

Her and Mapi weren’t expecting you to call them, even if you needed them, but they had texted you during a break and gotten no answer. Mapi tried not to speed home, but it was difficult when Ingrid was an anxious mess next to her in the passenger seat. 

Upon arriving home, Ingrid dumped her bag right in the entry hall, not bothering to put it away like she normally did, and went right up to your room, sighing in relief at the sight of you in front of her. Mapi was right behind her, melting a bit at the way Scout was perched on the end of your bed protectively, and Bagheera was curled up against your chest. Both of them were taking care of you, she was sure. Bagheera would get a treat and some extra pets, for sure. And Scout would too, but when no one was looking. She had a reputation to uphold, after all.

You awoke to the feeling of someone brushing their fingers through your hair. The reaction you had was different now than it had been a month ago, and Ingrid had done the same thing. Then, you’d startled awake, not used to the gentle touch. Now, you just shifted slightly, content to stay asleep as Ingrid settled on the bed next to you. 

You felt Scout get off the bed, and Mapi begrudgingly agree to take him on a walk. You knew she was faking her dislike of your dog at this point, but it was more fun to go along with it and catch her napping with Scout or giving him extra treats. 

It was only when the cat sneezed rather dramatically on your chest that you cracked an eye open, unimpressed with the lack of decorum from Bagheera. Ingrid was trying to stifle her laughter and you rolled your eyes, stretching and wiping the imaginary sneeze particles off your face. 

“Hi.” You murmured, voice rough with sleep… and with crying, but you were hoping to keep that to yourself. 

Ingrid smiled at you, eyes crinkling at the edges in the way they'd started to recently. It was something Mapi’s eyes did and while you weren’t sure how Ingrid had picked that up from her girlfriend, there was no question in your mind that she had. “Hi. How are you?” 

You shrugged, the momentary distractions from your feelings fading as everything came screeching back into focus. 

“Have you been crying?” Ingrid murmured, eyes stuck on the tear tracks staining your face. 

“A bit. I’m fine.” You replied, trying your best to shake off her concern. 

“You should have called me.” Your sister sighed. 

You shook your head, sitting up against the headboard. It was then that you noticed for the first time that your sister was still in her training kit, when normally she’d shower and change after a session. Her and Mapi must have rushed home. The thought sent a weird feeling through your body; not bad… just different. 

 “No, I was fine. You had training, you can’t miss that for no reason.” 

“There's not no reason. You were having a bad day, and you needed us. Why didn’t you call?”

You shrugged, but Ingrid continued to stare at you, awaiting an answer. “I didn’t want to make you choose between me and football.” you mumbled, picking at a hangnail and avoiding eye contact with your sister. She grabbed your hand though, and used her other hand to tilt your chin up until you were looking at her. 

“There is no choice, Solstråle. I will always come when you need me. It could be the middle of the champions league final, or the middle of training, and I would drop everything to get to you. So would María.” 

You grew teary, trying your best to not cry again. “Okay.” Your voice broke, and Ingrid felt like a piece of her heart went with it. 

“Sol, I mean it. You are more important than any football match or training could ever be. More important than anything else could ever be. You are the most important thing to me.” 

Your expression grew disbelieving, almost stunned. “I’m not worth all that,” 

Ingrid tried not to groan in frustration. It wouldn’t have been fair to make you think she was upset with you, when she was upset with your parents, and with herself. “You are! Solstråle, you are worth that and more.” 

You were getting better, definitely. But your self esteem was always something you struggled with, something you always probably would. No matter how convinced you were, now, that Ingrid and Mapi loved you and wanted you in Spain with them, you still couldn’t comprehend that you were important to them. 

“It just… it wasn’t like that before. I’m not used to this.”

Ingrid’s face fell. “I know. I know you aren’t. But I promise you, sweetheart, even before, even when we argued all the time and I was so hard on you. I cared then just as much as I do now. I just didn’t understand how to help you. But I do now, right? It’s better now?” 

A more confident nod from you. “A lot better.” 

Your sister smiled gently. “I know you’ve felt really alone these last few years. But you aren’t anymore, okay? I’m right here with you.” 

There was something behind her words that felt like a promise, but it wasn’t necessarily a promise you needed to hear. It was one Ingrid had already made through her actions. And through the flood of doubts and insecurities, you knew that she wouldn’t break that promise. 

In that moment, you hated how hard it was for you to be vulnerable. How difficult it was for you to put words to your feelings, and express your appreciation and love for your sister. All you could do was try, though, right?

“Ingrid?” You mumbled after a minute of silence. Ingrid hummed in acknowledgement, squeezing your hand. “You… everything you’ve done for me. You’re just… you’re my favorite person. And I love you.” 

Ingrid could have sobbed, truly. She, too, had struggled to share her feelings her whole life, as you had. She knew just how much it took for you to say something so sincere, and not even make a joke after it. The brunette pulled you in closer to her, leaving a kiss on the side of your head. 

“You know that, right?” You wondered, after Ingrid hadn’t responded right away. She was trying to keep the deep emotion out of her voice, not wanting to make this moment even more difficult for you than she knew it already was. When you turned to look at her, though, catching her just as a tear slid down your face, you understood. 

“I do know, Solstråle. And I love you, so much, min perfekte lillesøster.” 

It didn't really matter as much, that you didn’t think you were perfect. Because for as long as you could remember, Ingrid had been the perfect one. And now she thought you were, too, and that was enough. 

“You’re my favorite person, too.” Ingrid added as an afterthought, pulling you into an even tighter hug. “Just don’t tell-”

“AHEM.” Mapi cleared her throat from the doorway. You whipped your head to look at her, both of you breaking into a fit of giggles at the sight of the very disgruntled defender standing in the doorway. “Well, your not favorite person just came up here to say that she was going to go get you both ice cream, but now…”

It was rather difficult to stop laughing, what with Mapi standing there with her arms crossed, a frown on her face, one foot stomp away from throwing a temper tantrum. You and Ingrid pulled yourselves together, forcing serious expressions onto your faces. 

“Mapi, I was just trying to make Ingrid feel better about herself. You are my favorite. Of course.” 

“Me too, mi amor. You are my favorite.” Ingrid grinned, before very obviously winking at you. 

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, Mapi turned on her heel and headed downstairs. “I am going to poison your ice cream.” She shouted over her shoulder. 

Mapi was far from upset. It was enough for her that you seemed a bit better, and that her girlfriend’s anxiety had definitely lessened. Although, the day had clearly taken its toll on you and Ingrid, because when Mapi arrived home with the ice cream, she found you both passed out in your bed, your head resting on your sister’s shoulder. 

-

-

-

You swore as you slipped in the small puddle of water on the kitchen floor, almost instantly losing your balance and falling with a thud. The mug you’d been holding fell, too, shattering on impact with the floor. You heard Ingrid call your name, evidently startled by the sound, and moved to sit up on instinct. Instead of putting your hand down on the cold floor, though, you smashed it right down into a pile of mug shards. 

“Jævel!” You shouted, almost jumping at the burst of pain and bringing your hand to your chest. It was bleeding heavily, and you gasped, startled by the amount of blood flowing out of your hand. “Ow, ow, ow,” you winced, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. 

“Sol? You okay?” Ingrid shouted from the top of the stairs. 

You tried to reply, but Mapi beat you to it, appearing in front of  you out of nowhere. “No, she cut her hand. Ven aquí! And bring a clean towel!” The Spaniard shouted, grabbing the broom from the closet and hastily sweeping the shards away from you so she could safely get closer. 

“I’m sorry, Mapi, I’m so sorry,” you said shakily, sure that you were about to be in trouble for not being more careful. The water spill was your fault in the first place, and then it was what you slipped on. Now, you’d broken one of their favorite mugs, and you were getting blood all over the kitchen. 

Mapi only had time to look at you, confused, before Ingrid came running into the room holding a hand towel from upstairs. 

“Jesus, Sol,” Ingrid murmured, crouching down next to where you were and reaching for your hand. You mistook her statement as one of frustration, and not one of worry, and flinched away from her in a way you hadn’t in a very long time. 

“I’m sorry Ingrid, I broke the mug,” you cried. 

Ingrid exchanged a look with her girlfriend, before turning back to you. There was blood all over your shirt, dripping down where your good hand cradled the injured one. Your face was frighteningly pale, and you looked completely terrified. Ingrid paused, though all she wanted to do was get some pressure on your hand, forcing herself to calm down a bit. She wasn’t sure why you were reacting the way you were, but she knew by now to take it seriously. 

“Don’t worry about the mug.” Ingrid said gently, holding her hand out again. “Let me see, Sol.” 

With a pained whimper, you placed your hand in hers. Only then did you look at the wound, and both Mapi and Ingrid watched in alarm as the remaining color drained from your face. 

Ingrid knew what was coming a second before it happened, hastily trying to cover your hand with the towel as you started to sway where you were sitting. “Fuck, she’s gonna pass out,” she warned, unable to catch you as she pressed the towel into your hand, trying to get the bleeding to stop. 

Mapi dropped to her knees just as your eyes rolled back into your head, and you fell limp into her arms. “Ingrid,” she cried, overcome with panic. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, she’s just bad with blood.” Ingrid assured her. She pulled the towel away temporarily to look at your hand, and saw a long slice across your palm. It wasn’t deep, and though you might have nicked a vein, Ingrid was pretty sure you wouldn’t need stitches. Readjusting the towel over your hand, she tried to give her girlfriend a calming smile. “It’s really okay, María. I promise, she just really hates blood.” 

“She passed out!” Mapi yelped. “This does not feel okay!”

Ingrid bit back a laugh, knowing this wasn’t the time or the place. “She’ll wake up in a few minutes, just hold this towel while I get some water for her.” 

Mapi took over with the towel, allowing your head to drop into her lap as Ingrid walked across the kitchen. 

“Ingrid, do we have any smelling salts?” She wondered, poking your cheek a few times as your eyes remained firmly shut. 

“Why, yes, María, let me go check my potion making kit.” 

“I do not appreciate your sarcasm at the moment.” Mapi grumbled, again poking your face as your eyes started to scrunch together. You looked uncomfortable, and Mapi braced herself for you to wake back up and freak out again. Instead, you stayed unconscious for a few more seconds, unbeknownst to the Spaniard, reliving a memory you’d… kind of forgotten. 

When the picture frame shattered on the wood floor, all you felt was panic. It was panic that led you to lean down and try to collect the pieces of glass in your hands. A second, much quieter crash was heard as a piece of glass shifted in your hand, cutting your finger open. 

You’d never been good with blood, and you felt yourself getting lightheaded at just the sight of the small rivulets of blood forming across the cut. You shut your eyes tightly, all thoughts of being afraid of getting in trouble for breaking the picture frame flew out of your mind, and you were turning and shouting before you could stop yourself. 

“Mamma! Mamma!” You yelled, growing dizzier and dizzier. 

“Stop yelling, my goodness.” Mamma said, walking calmly into the room. She came to a sudden stop at the sight of the picture frame broken in front of you, before her face grew cold and mean. “What have you done!” 

“I-I- I bumped the table and it fell and I tried to clean it up, but my finger, Mamma,” you cried, missing the anger on your moms face and leaning towards her for comfort as she moved closer. 

“This is my favorite picture of your sister, couldn't you have been more careful! You are always breaking things, always making a mess. I am so tired of you and the stupid things you do when you don’t pay attention.” Mamma ranted, picking up the pieces of glass and making sure the picture was unharmed. “I should be the one crying, you broke my picture frame!” 

Your stomach twisted at her tone, and at the drops of blood that were hitting the floor at your feet. You tried to fight it, knowing it would only make her more upset, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Keeling over, you threw up on the ground, whimpering as your mother gasped in surprise. 

“What-”

“Mamma, my finger,” you sobbed, holding out the bloodied appendage towards your mother. 

Some of the confusion left your Mamma’s eyes, knowing just how poorly you handled any kind of injury, on anyone. 

“Oh, goodness. Come with me.” She said, not completely unkindly as she led you into the kitchen. There, she wrapped your finger up with a dish towel, holding pressure on it as you sniffled and hiccuped. She brushed a few flyaways out of your face, your hair always coming loose no matter how tight Ingrid braided it. 

At the kind gesture, you relaxed a bit. Maybe she wasn’t as mad anymore. Cautiously, you allowed yourself to step in closer to her. “Hurts, Mamma.” 

Some emotion, of what you weren’t sure, flashed across the older woman’s face and she sighed. “You’ll be fine. It is just a little cut. It is just a little blood, kjære. You are 8 years old. And 8 years old is too big to be getting this worked up over a small cut.” 

“Sorry, Mamma.” You mumbled, scrubbing at your eyes with your good hand. You took a few deep breaths, trying to stop crying even as pain burned through your finger, and all you wanted was a hug. 

“Alright, no more blood, see? Now go get a bandaid while I clean up your mess.” 

“Okay, Mamma.” 

She sent you off with a kiss on the top of your head, but as you climbed the stairs, you heard the garage door open. That meant Ingrid was home. You knew she’d had a long day, but you couldn’t help the way your body sagged in relief now that she was home. Now that you’d get a hug. 

That was, until you heard Mamma’s voice addressing your sister downstairs, as you rifled through the bandaid box, looking for a yellow one. 

“Look what your sister did.” Mamma sighed. She sounded so disappointed, and you promised yourself to do better. Next time, you wouldn’t throw up. And you would clean up the mess all by yourself. Then, Mamma would be proud of you. Then, maybe she’d give you a hug.

When you came to, Mapi’s face was hovering ridiculously close to yours, and you jolted away from her. 

“Sol! You’re awake!” 

You tried to sit up, just as Ingrid’s voice rang from across the room. “Do not let her sit up yet, she’ll only make herself more dizzy.” 

Mapi’s hands pushed your shoulders back to the ground and you frowned, seeing Ingrid appear above you holding the broom. 

“No, Ingrid, I’ll clean it up,” you said weakly, even as your stomach turned at the sight of a bloody rag in your sister’s hand. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Ingrid dismissed. “You stay right there until you feel better.” 

Ingrid cleaned up the ceramic shards, and you wondered just how upset she’d be that you’d broken the mug. It was her and Mapi’s favorite. They had made it together in some pottery class, and they often fought over who got to use it in the morning for coffee. And you’d gone and broken it. Ingrid didn’t seem mad yet, but she would be… right?

 After a few minutes of Mapi gently combing through your hair, she finally helped you sit up. Your sister appeared in front of you once again, first aid kit in hand, and sat down on the ground.  She moved slowly as she reached for your hand, trying not to startle you. You held it out to her, leaning against Mapi and inhaling shakily. 

“I looked when you were out, I don’t think you need stitches.” Your sister assured you, pausing when you only gave a short nod. “You okay? Do you feel sick?” 

You shook your head firmly, clenching your jaw shut tight. Ingrid still didn’t unwrap the towel from your palm, still focused on the uneven way you were breathing, and the slightly green tint to your face.  

Mapi rubbed her hand up and down your back comfortingly, exchanging a look with your sister. “It’s okay if you feel sick, Sol. Just tell me and we can get you a bag or something.”

“No. I’m fine. I don’t get sick when I see blood anymore.” You said, sounding almost angry. 

Since when? Ingrid thought. Still, she got to work disinfecting your hand and cleaning it up. Once she’d wrapped a large bandage around it, having tried her best to ignore the way your good hand was clenched into a fist so tight it looked painful. 

Once your sister was done, she helped you to your feet, holding her arms open for a hug. You looked between her and Mapi suspiciously, a frown set on your face. “You’re… not mad?” 

“Why would we be mad?” Ingrid wondered, leading you into the living room, having decided to make you rest on the sofa for a while until you looked less ill. 

You followed her lead, albeit still sounding very confused. “Because… I made a mess. And I didn’t clean it up. And I broke your favorite mug.” 

Ingrid couldn’t figure out what you were so worked up about. “It wasn’t on purpose, Sol. And you were hurt, why would you clean it up?” 

“I should have been more careful. And it was my mess. I should have… I should have cleaned it up.” 

It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself of something, a somewhat vacant expression on your face. Ingrid had the familiar sinking feeling in her stomach. It was the one that appeared whenever your sister discovered another piece of the puzzle; the puzzle of why you were the way you were, why you’d left Norway. Most of the time, the pieces were intrinsically linked to your mother. And Ingrid really hated that. 

So, she wasn’t quite sure what the specific issue in this situation was. But she knew you well enough to know what would make you feel better. Taking a seat on the couch next to you, your sister brought you into a tight hug, feeling the way you froze at first, before melting into her. 

“I don’t care about the mess.” She promised, before she leaned back, her expression contradicting her words slightly as she took in the blood on your shirt. 

You smiled weakly at her, not quite sure you believed her words. “I’ll go change-”

“No!” Ingrid interrupted. “I’ll go get you a new shirt, yeah? You just stay here.”  

With that, your sister took off up the stairs, and you were left in deep thought on the couch. Mapi took Ingrid’s spot pretty quickly, handing you a glass of water to sip from as she studied your expression. 

Mapi nudged you with her knee. “What are you thinking about?” 

“I broke a picture frame once. It was of Ingrid and Mamma, and the picture was completely fine but the glass broke and I cut my finger on it. But my mom was really mad about the mess. She said she was tired of me and the messes I made. I just… thought you’d be upset. It was your guys’ favorite mug. I thought you’d be mad.” 

Understanding dawned across Mapi’s face and she scooted closer, until her shoulder pressed to yours. “I don’t care about the mug. And neither does your sister. We’re both just glad you’re okay, that’s all we care about.” 

“Really?” You asked in a small voice. 

“Sol, you could break everything in this house, crash my motorbike, and ruin my favorite sweatshirt. And I’d still want you here. I’d still love you, nena.” Mapi assured you, not a single trace of doubt detectable in her voice. 

You looked away from her, the eye contact combined with her words proving to be too much. “I love you too.” You choked out, still looking away from Mapi, but leaning closer into her. She wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“How could you not? I am the best.” Mapi said seriously. 

And then the tears in your eyes were forgotten as you laughed, always shocked at Mapi’s ability to take your mind off something emotional. Always shocked, but always so grateful. 

When Ingrid reentered the room with one of her shirts in hand, it was to find you and María in absolute hysterics on the couch, your hand and whatever had upset you so greatly before completely forgotten. 

She’d thought she loved Mapi as much as a person could love another person, before you’d arrived in Spain. And then she’d picked you up from the airport, a shell of yourself, angry and hostile. And she’d watched Mapi chip away at all the anger and all the sadness. She’d watched as you became you again, with Mapi’s help.

Ingrid wasn’t stupid. She knew she’d helped you, too. But you were her sister. Mapi had no obligation to you, yet… here she was. 

And Ingrid realized that her love for María Pilar León Cebrián had grown exponentially in the past few months. Because she’d gotten to see Mapi grow to love you. Her favorite person in the world. It was so much love, she thought some days that her heart might burst.  

Ingrid hated the process of getting you here, and of everything that had happened for you that had been so incredibly difficult. But she couldn’t pretend she didn’t love the family she got as a result. 

------

hahahaHAHAHA IM FINE im FINE

i love sol.

ps. please tell me if you see any typos okay goodnight

[ariseur]

omgg cloud x reader where theyre at costa del sol… like how in rebirth hes super flustered seeing the cute bathing suits but he actually puts sunscreen on reader 😼😼😼 maybe leading to spice if ur comfy w it!!!

spot me some sunscreen? 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

cloud strife (ffvii) x reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

i originally wrote this as a blurb but i forgot like the entire sunscreen portion so it ended up being a whole fic instead 😭

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

intended lowercase, nsfw / suggestive themes!!, i kinda wrote it with the reader wearing a more feminine bathing suit hope it’s okay!!, reader is referred to as clouds gf, cloud being awkward, readers lowkey a tease, lmk if i missed anything!! 💕

┊ ˚➶ word count ｡˚ 🎼

1644 words, 8930 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

walking out into the daylight was even enough for cloud. costa del sol was just so— lively. he sighed as he watched you, aerith, and tifa skip along to the dressing rooms, the two girls dragging you along by your wrists while you all giggled. he should’ve just insisted that they moved along like barret had said, he thought.

he kept his head down as waited for you near a corner, keeping his head hung low as he detested his swim trunks, cursing the sun for such a hot day.

it felt like forever before a faint, “cloud!” hit his ears. hearing your smile even evident in your voice, he turned his head to the shore as he spotted you under an umbrella, sat comfortably on a striped towel.

his eyes roamed your figure, unable to to give even a small wave back once he gawked at your bathing suit. your waist exposed with the top you wore, only the tied back visible to him while the coverup hugging against your hips, the sheer material revealing your bottoms underneath.

unsure of what to do, cloud looked around before he turned around and faced the other way, not wanting anybody to see his tinted ears. he closed his eyes, taking shade behind a small palm tree as he pretended he didn’t hear the soft footsteps against the sand approaching him.

“i know you hear me calling for you, y’know.” cloud heard you giggle behind him. as he turned around slowly, he finally got a good look at you. just the exposure of skin made his cheeks flush with an even brighter red, his ears an even deeper color.

making a sound of surprise at your advances, he awkwardly leaned back while you yourself leaned in and tilted your head. “well?”

“‘well’.. what?”

“are you gonna stop ignoring me?”

“i’m not—just..” his body tensed as his eyes kept managing to flicker over your body in their own, his eyes alternating between your face and your hips where he could see the skimpy bottoms you wore snug against you under the thin coverup.

you leaned in closer, hands behind you back as you flashed cloud a toothy grin. you watched as his wide eyes flickered down to your lips. he felt a small wave wash over him, his bare chest tensing at the gentle hand you put on it. crap, was he sweating?

your sweet smile didn’t help. his eyebrows furrowed, he knew what you were doing. you knew what you were doing. but he didn’t pay much mind to that when your honeyed voice chimed, “i’ll wait for you under the umbrella, okay?”

“okay.” he gulped, watching your hips sway as you made your way back to your original spot, meeting up with aerith as she gawked over your outfit. mako tinted eyes followed you until you were a distant figure, watching as you twirled and giggled with aerith.

cloud’s breathing became shallow as he sighed— unsure if it was a breath of relief or frustration. his eyes trailed downwards when he noticed his trunks got tighter, letting out an exasperated groan as he rushed to the nearest bathroom, eager to rush back to you after he’s done.

only then did he turn around and become face to face with tifa, red eyes crinkled in a teasing manner while she looked at him. “cloud—!” she sang— and if cloud could die right now, he would. “where you headed off to?”

“just the restroom.”

“didn’t i see you go a few minutes ago?”

he internally facepalmed, eyes drifting off to the side with uncertainty. what could he say to that? besides the next words that embarrassingly tumbled out of his mouth, “just a—small bladder, i guess.”

as if the quizzical look on tifa’s face wasn’t enough proof that she didn’t believe him, dragging him by the wrist certainly was. cloud stifled a sigh as the polyester of his trunks rubbed against him a little too much with an extra far step over a sand hole. he averted his gaze as he saw you and aerith chatting it up under the umbrella, bare legs splayed out before you as you listened to the calls of the sea.

“wow, cloud! nice outfit!” aerith cheers, turning towards cloud with an extended finger as she giggled. he watched as you turned around, lowering your sunglasses a bit as you gave him a smug half-grin. gulping, he opened his mouth again hesitantly to try his best to excuse himself once more, his problem growing more and more obvious with how long he stared at your exposed skin.

but before he could get a word out, he heard a cheery, “hey, tifa! i heard marlene saying something about wanting us to bring her back some seashells—! wanna go look for some?” and before cloud knew it, tifa and aerith ran along to the shore, eyes immediately keen on any glimmering seashells that stood out against the sun— leaving cloud with you.

poor boy didn’t get a chance to even get a word in before you flashed him a small smile and held up a white and blue bottle. he couldn’t even focus on a word you said when your gloss was shining so well with the fluidity of your lips, their languid movements dragging his attention away from the sound of your voice before he felt another wave wash over him. whether that was the suns fault or yours wasn’t specified in his mind before he noticed you had stopped talking.

“huh?” he asked.

your eyebrows furrowed as your smile grew wider. “i asked if you could spot me with some sunscreen.”

once again, another mortifying moment for cloud and his trunks. his mouth gaped open and closed a small bit before he finally sighed and mumbled, “i really better go and s—“

“c’mon, you want your girlfriend to burn to death out here?”

your insistent words didn’t help his problem, your voice teasing as he focused on the way the word ‘girlfriend’ rolled off your tongue. he had no choice—except he actually did despite saying that he didn’t—but to take small steps towards the towel, ducking under the small umbrella and taking a seat behind you.

he was so aware of everything now with the hard-on in his trunks more embarrassing than ever. the sand beneath his feet and on the back of his thighs, the way your back glistened with the unwavering heat of the island shining down on you, the way he hesitantly grabbed the sunblock bottle from your soft hands.

he squirted some into his palm, the foreign feeling of a bare hand made his eyebrows furrow as he was so used to his own gloved ones. you hummed a small tune— one cloud had recalled was playing in the jukebox outside a drink stand nearby, while he rubbed his hands to get the lotion spread. if his face wasn’t red then, it definitely was when you let out a small sigh at the feeling of the cold sensation on your back.

despite being as awkward as he was, cloud’s deft hands massaged the sunscreen into your skin surprisingly comfortably. he let out a small curse under his breath as he grimaced when you slightly turned your head and questioned his whispers, “what was that?”

“nothin’.”

he was pretty sure you could see somewhat of his face right now, eyes scrunching as he felt himself twitch in his trunks while the tips of his ears grew red. if he was lucky enough— and coherent enough— he’d blame it on the sun. and it definitely didn’t help that you kept trying to make conversation with him.

“don’t you think it’s so beautiful out today, cloud?” you smiled. the breath of fresh air was unlike anything the two of you had experienced— you could inhale freely without choking on ash or dirt or debris from the recklessness of shinra. and he had to admit, it was a nicer change of pace stopping by costa del sol.

“everything’s just so gorgeous out here—“

“can you please stop talking?”

you turned your head once more, and cloud sighed in embarrassment. he didn’t mean for it to come out that way, honest. but he can’t focus on your words when you’re in front of him with that stupid swimsuit, distracting him as he tries not to shift his lower body to much. and of course, it took a beat of silence before your voice came out low, “have i offended you?”

“are you serious right now? you’re having me pour sunblock on you while you’re pressed up against me.”

it was only then when you let out a small laugh that he realized what you were doing. you did all of this on purpose— you sat here with aerith for a solid five minutes while he bumped into tifa, you could’ve had her spot you. but no, cloud just had to be the one to do it. he had noticed that you shifted back a little bit, which he thought was just so he didn’t have to reach so far but now that your lower back was pressed against him, he realized that you understood his problem a long time ago.

“oh well, sorry about that.” you teased, reaching behind you to remove cloud’s hands while you turned around to face him. you took off your sunglasses and grinned at him, taking in his flustered appearance. the bulge in his trunks failed to go unnoticed as your eyes flickered down once or twice.

“hey, cloud?” he looked back up at you, tearing his eyes away from the very interesting flecks of gold in the sand.

your smile never left your face. a deep contrast to your sweet demeanor was the innuendo that left your lips afterwards, “didn’t you have to go to bathroom earlier?”

[cheolism]

jealous

✿ — chwe hansol x reader ❀ — summary: hansol wants to fuck you until you can't remember anything but his name and when the man who inspires jealousy in him just so happens to call you, hansol can't help but take advantage. ✿ — word count is approx 2k ❀ — tags: jealousy and possessiveness, rough sex. biting and spitting, cursing and praise. ✿ — warnings: possessive vernon, jealous vernon. spit kink, bruises. pet names (baby, sweetheart). over stimulation, crying kink (mentioned). vernon has a dirty mouth!! ❀ — request: Dude dirty talk with vernon is driving me crazy, his deep voice ahhhh bruh just imagine he got jealous of y/n's guyfriend (I don't think he's a type who gets jealous but just IMAGINE) and during your SEGZY time, y/n's friend called her and vernon made her take the call. He had one goal, to make that guy know y/n belonged to vernon(not in a toxic way, ofc) so he slowly fucks her and whispers all the dirty things he'd do to her later, which makes y/n so weak and just moan into the call. He just smirks and cuts the call 😩

Hansol wasn't usually rough with you.

So when he grabbed your hips and shoved you onto the bed, mouth attaching to your neck and biting, you were surprised. Not a bad surprised, of course -- his hands elected moans from you as they shoved into your pants, nails digging into your ass, soft little whimpers escaped your mouth as his teeth sunk into your neck, marking you, claiming you.

Hansol worked quickly, shoving your pants and underwear to your ankles, forcing your hoodie up and above your head, phone tumbling out onto the bed beside you. Urgency roughened his touch, hands constantly moving against you, touching and claiming you.

"Sol," you breathed, arching into him. He shoved his knee between your thighs, mouth trailing to your breasts. You were powerless against him, grinding your cunt down onto his knee, wetting it and smearing your juices along his skin. "Hansol --"

"Don't worry, baby," he murmured. His tongue laved over your pebbled nipple. His breath was hot against your skin, the contrast between the cold of his spit against your skin drawing a shiver from you. "Gonna take care of you. Gonna treat you good, yeah?"

Two of his fingers went to your cunt. He slid his fingers along your pussy, collecting the juices. "Fuck -- so wet for me, baby. You're fucking soaked."

His fingers massaged against your hole, rubbing and taunting. Your arousal gushed out of you, hips twisting up into his hands in a futile attempt to guide his fingers in.

"God -- can smell your cunt all the way up here," he hissed, pulling back from your chest. Bruises and bite marks littered your skin, marks of him. "Your fucking cunt's eager, yeah? So eager for me."

You nodded, whining loudly in your throat as his thumb brushed over your cunt. It wasn't enough to do anything, just mindless contact. But it was enough to drive you insane, for your mind to clear of all thoughts other than Hansol, other than the desire, the yearning, for relief.

"Want you," you agreed weakly, hands sinking into his hair. You pulled at the locks, tugging and twisting, sweet pants and moans escaping Hansol's mouth at your efforts. "Fucking want you, Hansol, want you so fucking bad."

He swore, pulling away. Hansol hooked his arms around your legs, lifting and baring your cunt to the room. He ducked his head, and you tensed in anticipation.

A wad of spit shot from his lips, landing on your cunt. You groaned, eyes screwing shut. You could hear as he spat again, imagined his saliva mixing with your arousal on your cunt.

Hansol released your legs, withdrawing from you. Your eyes flew open, protests immediately leaving your mouth.

"God you're so desperate, aren't you?" Hansol crawled up the bed, reaching to the bed table on his side. He grabbed the lube bottle, popping off the clear cap and letting it fall to the floor.

Ignoring the mess already between your thighs, how the inner skin of your thighs was already soaked with the combination of your own arousal and his saliva, Hansol pumped liberal amount over your cunt.

"You're a fucking mess," he moaned, lips twisting into a mean little smirk. "So fucking messy, baby."

He threw the lube to the side of the bed, the both of you ignoring it as it rolled off and onto the floor. Hansol stuck his hands into his pants, shoving them down to his knees.

His hands settled on the back of your thighs, pushing them up once more. Hansol crowded close, releasing one of your thighs to grab his dick. He tugged at it, hissing and huffing with every pull.

He rubbed the head of his dick along your cunt, gathering the crude mix of your arousal, his spit, and lube. Curses poured out of his mouth, praise intermixed. "Fucking perfect, your sweet little cunt. Shit, baby, fucking soaking my dick, fucking goddamn perfect --"

The tip of his cock pressed against your hole, and immediately you were bucking up into him in a poor attempt to force it in. "Please, Hansol, please, I need you to fuck me, want -- want your cock, please --"

He laughed, a deep thing that made your cunt clench in arousal. "Fucking desperate, baby. So eager for me, aren't you? Can't think about anything other than my fat dick, can you?"

Then Hansol was pushing in. You tossed your head back, eyes pressing shut. The stretch burned, your cunt squeezing and tightening around his dick with every centimeter he pressed into you. Hansol cursed, and the hand not holding your thigh went to your cunt. His thumb pressed into your pussy, orbiting around your clit, skin brushing against the bundle of nerves but never touching it head-on.

The action had you whining, body relaxing and bucking up into him, desperate for more. "Solie! Hansol, fuck -- please, Hansol, please --"

Once his cock was fully sheathed inside of you, Hansol stopped torturing your clit. He withdrew his hand, wet from your cunt, slipping it to your thigh. He went to his knees, pressing down on your thighs.

Hansol began to withdraw, his cock dragging against your walls. Your toes curled, hands grasping at the sheets. Pleas poured from your mouth, wanting more and more.

Then the sound of wind chimes filled the room, startling the both of you. You scrambled, throwing your arm out in an attempt to find your phone. Hansol refused to help, holding your thighs still, keeping you impaled on his dick.

You took one look at your phone and then you were throwing it to the side, not caring. Hansol lifted a brow at you. You rolled your eyes, wiggling your hips down on his cock in an attempt to coax him back. "Just Jaehyung. Ignore it."

Hansol's face turned to stone, grip on your thighs tightening. He couldn't help but think back to that photo on Instagram that had ignited the little spark of passion (and jealousy) inside of him. Jaehyung, a friend of a friend, had posted a handful of photos of the get-together you had attended last night. And one of them featured you and Jaehyung, his shoulders pressed against your side, arm around your waist.

Hansol was not a jealous person. But immediately he had felt the seeds of jealousy sprout in his gut. Jaehyung had been yearning for you for as long as Hansol knew you, no matter that you and Hansol had been dating for nearly just as long.

Get-togethers that Hansol managed to attend were spent awkwardly with Jaehyung constantly aiming for your attention; stealing Hansol's spot, speaking over him. You never paid it any attention, thinking Jaehyhung merely as a friend of a friend; no one important.

It reassured Hansol that you were so willing to cast Jaehyung aside, but he couldn't stop the little monster inside of him.

"Answer," he commanded, fingers digging into your thighs. "Answer him, baby."

Your eyes widened. "Hansol, I don't --"

"Answer him or I'll pull out right now," Hansol threatened. He didn't really mean it. He'd fuck you regardless, but he still liked the desperate look you got on your face at his reply, liked the spike of pride it gave.

You grabbed your phone. Your eyes flicked up to Hansol's, and then you were answering the phone. "H-hey, Jaehyung."

"Speaker, sweetheart," Hansol said. You did as he demanded, and then you were setting your phone on the bed. "Good baby."

Hansol finished pulling his cock out of your cunt, until the tip was catching on your hole. You bit down on your lip, eyes darting down to where the two of you were joined, trying to pay attention to the phone call enough to answer Jaehyung.

" -- so much fun last night," Jaehyung was saying, his voice quiet due to the phone volume. "Such a shame your boyfriend couldn't make it. Why couldn't he, again?"

Hansol grinned, raising his brows at you and prompting an answer. You huffed a sigh. "He had to meet with some producers."

Your answer prompted a little nod from Hansol, and then he was thrusting back into you. You moaned, high and needy, back arching up and into him.

"Y/n? You okay?"

You bit down on your lip before replying, cunt fluttering around Hansol's cock. He withdrew all the way again, until his head was resting on your hole. "Y-yeah! Just -- just lost my place in my game."

Hansol looked down, eyes watchign as his cock sheathed in you once again. In dramatic contrast to the urgency that had taken over his movements earlier, Hansol slowly moved his hips against your cunt. He paid half attention to your conversation with Jaehyung, the other man's voice nothing but background noise to him. Your voice, however, had Hansol grinning.

Your voice wavered with every slow thrust into your cunt, biting back moans and groans of pleasure. Your face was contorted with effort, hands pulling at the sheets. You barely spoke other than to offer affirmation that you were paying attention, trying to concentrate on not letting on what you were really doing.

Hansol moved against you fluidly, never stopping his movements. He only paused long enough to release your thighs, bending over you and caging you underneath him.

He next thrust was well-aimed, hitting that spongy spot dead-on. You bit down on your lip, but that did little to muffle your whine. Hansol huffed a laugh, and then he was driving his hips forward, thighs meeting your ass in a brutal slap.

"Doing so good," he said, grinning meanly. "Do you think he knows, baby? Knows I'm fucking you so good?"

You let out a shuddering breath, tensing in his hold. "Sol --"

"Feel so good wrapped around my cock," he murmured. He drove into you relentlessly, little strangled noises escaping your mouth. "Gonna fuck you until you're dumb, baby. How's that? Fucking you on my fat dick until you can't say nothing but my name, 'til you're sobbing and crying for me to stop 'cause you can't take it."

"Hansol," you sobbed, and it was like the threads holding him together snapped.

Hansol grabbed you, pulling his cock out. He roughly flipped you over, hand pressing down on your back and forcing you to stick your ass up into the air, face pressed into the sheets next to your phone.

"Y/n? Are you okay? What's going on?"

In one swift movement Hansol was impaling you back on his cock, a loud moan ripping from your mouth in response. He jack-rabbited into you, his hands gripping your hips and waist so tightly that Hansol knew he'd leave bruises. The sound of his hips and balls slapping against your thighs filled the room, a crude sort of music to his ears.

"So fucking good," he cursed, watching as your ass cheeks bounced. He released his grip on you just to slap his hand down on your ass, roughly grabbing the flesh and massaging the sting. "So fucking tight around my cock, baby. Fucking soaking it. Getting my dick wet so well."

Hansol glanced at your phone. The screen was blank; Jaehyung had hung up.

Hansol smirked, and then he was ducking his head. A fat wad of spit dropped from his mouth, hitting the curve of your ass. You sobbed as an orgasm traveled through you, Hansol continuing to ram into you as if you were his own little plaything.

"Hansol, please, fuck," you screamed, hips in constant torment, both pulling away and grinding closer. "Hansol, god, so much --"

He chuckled, breathless. He hooked an arm around your waist, pressing down against your back. "Gotta cry for me first, baby," he panted, nipping at your back. "We ain't stopping 'til you're fucking sobbing for me to stop."

[wooataes]

Real Eyes, Fake Lies (Part Ten)

Pairing: soulmate!Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Hanahaki!AU, angst, alcohol consumption, green-eyed monster named jealousy, tears, lots of crying, heartbreak, mentions of death, suggestive thoughts? guilt, swearing

Summary: What do you do when you find out the one person that was created by the universe to be yours doesn’t want you back?

A/N: It has been a long time coming! Oh my goodness guys, thank you so much for your incredible patience with me as I have been navigating my life into the new year and getting my life together essentially. I finally (with the support of my friendos) managed to get this up and out for you all! Thank you all as always for your love and support of refl! 🥰

- Tae 💜🌸✨

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Jihoon was so fucked.

To his credit, he is trying. Trying to ignore the fact that his body feels some sort of attraction towards his soulmate, situated only a few feet away from him on a beach chair. Trying to ignore the ink embedded into your skin along your collarbone that he can see out of his peripheral vision. 

Trying to ignore temptation. 

Your sunglasses are pushed up your nose to keep the sun out of your eyes, having opted to let the sun warm your body up instead of making your way into the water. It’s unusual for Jihoon to see you so still and so silent, simply basking in the sunlight as a hand belonging to Jisoo reaches up to pat your calf. Jihoon immediately scowls to himself when he sees the older man glance up at you from his towel, asking quietly if you’re good to which you respond with a little nod and smile before leaning your head back again and relaxing into the beach chair.

Your soulmate heaves a soft sigh as he checks his phone for the fourth time in the last two hours. Ji-ah was due to arrive back in Seoul soon and he has been growing increasingly more worried the longer it takes for her to not answer. 

“Y/N!” A loud voice rouses you from your hungover slumber, causing you to whine and look at the shadow that is now blocking the sun from you that comes in the form of a 6’2 man named Kim Mingyu.

“Mm?” You grumble.

“Why won’t you come swimming with us?” he pouts at you, hands on his hips.

“I’m having my enrichment time out of my enclosure.” You deadpan, eyes closing again, a little grin forming on your face as you hear Mingyu let out a loud whine.

“Please can you come in the water?”

“Why does it have to be me?” You groan.

“Because Wonwoo can’t do swimming because of an accident when he was younger, Kwan and Sol are in their own little honeymoon phase world over there,” he points to said couple who are making an intricate sand castle, “Minnie is hanging off Soonie-hyung like a rash, Hannie-hyung will just attempt to use us all as a floatation device-”

“What makes you think I won’t do the same?” You raise your eyebrow.

“AND,” he glares at you, ignoring your comment. “Your brother is sulking that it’s only me who is playing with him. Please?”

“Do I have to?” You throw your head back with a dramatic sigh.

“If you don’t come in the water willingly, I will have to take you by force, Y/Nie.”

“Ha ha ha.” You roll your eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”

Jihoon has kept his back to you both for the entirety of your interaction with Mingyu, deciding on his own that he needs to actually follow Jeonghan’s advice and actively make an effort to at least attempt to ignore you and help you move on. He is finding it extremely difficult, however, due to the bikini you’re currently in looking too inviting for you to wriggle your way into his thoughts like a catchy song that can’t seem to escape his brain.

Mingyu seems to take your words as a challenge though, as not even two seconds later, Jihoon is alerted by a shriek coming from you.

“KIM MINGYU!” You try and scold, the large man having now scooped you up into his arms, marching his way towards the water. Jeonghan and Wonwoo both begin to laugh at the way you flail and kick to no avail.

“Yes, Y/Nie?” Mingyu grins at you, and you thrash more.

“Kim Mingyu, I swear if you don’t put me the fuck down right now…”

“Oh, put you down?” He smirks. “Okay!”

“YAH!” You let out another squeal as he moves to drop you, but you’re faster. You immediately wrap your arms and legs around his torso, squeezing onto him for dear life. Seungcheol bursts out laughing at the sight of you, a big smile on his face as he watches on.

“I meant out of the water, you BRAT!” You smack at Mingyu’s back, who only trudges deeper into the water. You whine loudly and cling tighter to him. 

“Are you sure you want to call me a brat when I could sink both of us into the water right now?” He raises his eyebrows at you, arms down by his sides as you hold onto him like a backpack..

“Yah!” You whimper, burying your face into his shoulder. Jihoon bristles at the feeling in his stomach. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I’ll hang out!”

“Told you it would work.” Mingyu smirks to your brother, who only grins back triumphantly.

“I hate that you know me too well.” You groan, carefully untangling yourself from the overgrown puppy’s broad back, shivering at the feeling of the cold water as you sink your feet into the salty beach water. “I swear to god though, if you try to push me under the water, I will end you.” 

Soonyoung only giggles at the glare on your face, glancing back to the shore at Jeonghan. “Hyung, isn’t she cute when she’s angry?”

“The cutest!” Jeonghan calls back, an amused smirk forming on his face as you shoot your brother’s soulmate a glare.

“I hate you all.” You grumble, crossing your arms with a pout, only making the boys around you giggle more.

“Oh come here, you big baby.” Seokmin turns around, offering his back to you.

Jihoon feels the immediate change in your mood lift to excitement, glancing over to see you happily perched up on Seokmin’s back, who wades slowly through the water with you comfortably resting against him. 

“Thank you Minnie~” You sing sweetly, hugging around his shoulders.

“Hey!” Mingyu points accusingly at you. “That isn’t fair! I went through all that work to bring you out here only to have you be coddled in the water too?”

“Be grateful I’m even here, Mingyu.” You playfully glare at him, Seokmin turning you away from him as Soonyoung starts cooing and patting your head, making you grin.

“Aish, what are we going to do with you…”

For the next hour, Jihoon knows he is torturing himself by listening to the others around him (aka you) have fun. Him, alongside Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Seungkwan and Hansol watches as you with the others play happily around in the water. For the better part of twenty minutes, the game of choice, chosen by the birthday boy, has been Marco Polo. You have opted out of this game, your soulmate keeping an eye on your head currently nestled against Seokmin’s warm shoulder, eyes fluttering closed as the heat from the sun covers you like a blanket and makes your sleepiness return at full force. You look peaceful, he thinks. 

His calm thoughts soon turn to discomfort as he feels his phone vibrate against his pocket, hurriedly reaching down to check the text, only to feel himself deflate at the message from his girlfriend.

Made it safe. x

No nickname, no warmth, no nothing. This is seriously unlike Ji-ah at all, and it has Jihoon nervous. Should he reply like normal? Or should he give his girlfriend the space she needs to handle her emergency?

“Jihoon-ah?” Wonwoo’s voice cuts his thoughts short, startling his housemate as he turns to stare at him with wide eyes. “You okay over there?”

“Uh, y-yeah.” He hums slightly. “Ji-ah just let me know she made it home safely.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

Is it?

“Yeah, I suppose.” Jihoon replies after a short pause, sighing quietly. 

“It’s okay to be worried about her.” Wonwoo smiles at him, patting his shoulder gently. “After all, she is your-”

“YAH!” Your voice squeals out, alarming the others as they turn to look at the ocean. You’re swatting at your brother, who is loudly cackling and snatching you from Seokmin’s arms. “Get away from me, you big buffoon!”

The others upon the shore begin to laugh and smile at Seungcheol as he spins you around bridal style. “You dare be rude to your big brother on his birthday, hmm?”

“HANNIE OPPA!” You shriek as Jihoon glances at your brother’s soulmate, who simply smirks back. “DO SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR SOULMATE!”

“And ruin my hair if I fall into the water? You’re on your own, Ladybug.”

“You bast-AAAAAH!” You yelp as Seungcheol tosses you to Mingyu, who catches you effortlessly. “I hate you all!”

“What did I do?!” Seungkwan fires back immediately, wagging his finger dramatically at you as the others laugh at the joyful mood surrounding them all.

Jihoon breathes a sigh of relief at the change of subject from Wonwoo’s questioning, letting his head lean back to briefly glance at the sky as he delves back into his own thoughts.

“Aw, come on guys, leave the girl alone!” Jisoo chuckles as he rises from his towel, tucking a surfboard under his arm. He jogs into the sea, sitting up on his board as he paddles his way over to the group. “Come here, Goober. I’ll save you from these punks.” He laughs as Mingyu turns away from him, holding you tight to his chest.

“Nuh-uh! She stays with us!”

“She’s not going to stray far, promise.” He pats the board gently, making the tall man sigh and plonk you down in front of your childhood friend.

“Thank you, Shua’ppa.” You smile sweetly at him before poking your tongue out at Mingyu, who huffs and splashes you playfully, making you yelp.

“Do you know how to surf, Goob?” Jisoo asks gently, giving you a cheeky grin.

“Hong Jisoo.” You deadpan, raising an eyebrow. “I am a homebody girl from Daegu. What do you think?”

“Well,” he ignores your sass, crossing his arms across his chest as you mimic him. “Would you like to learn?”

“When I feel like throwing up from how the ocean is rocking me right now?” You laugh. “I think that’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Hmm.. you make a compelling argument.” He hums sagely, reaching up and stroking his chin, trying not to grin at the sound of your giggles. “How about then I teach you how to keep your balance on the board? No wave riding.”

“Can you guarantee that I won’t fall in?” Jisoo simply raises his hand up, his pinky extended to link with yours, flashing you an angelic smile. You narrow your eyes for a moment before reaching out to link your pinky with his. “I swear, if I fall in…”

“Trust me, Goober!”

Jihoon blinks and raises his head as he feels your amusement filling his veins, eyes coming into focus as he curiously gazes out to the sea to see why you’re feeling this way.

Your legs are shaking as you attempt to stand on the idle surfboard, your nervous laughs reaching down to where your soulmate sits. Jisoo is standing behind you with his large hands settled delicately on your bare waist, keeping you steady as he talks quietly into your ear on how to stand correctly that Jihoon can’t hear.

Jihoon feels his hair stand on end as his eyes zero in on the older man’s hands resting on your bare skin, bristling in his chair slightly.

“You can do it, Ladybug!” Jeonghan is cheering from the shore, an amused grin on his face as you flip him off.

“Focus, Goober.” Jisoo’s voice is steady as he keeps his hands on you.

You take a deep breath, standing with your legs apart as he directs you, biting down on your lip and holding your arms out to keep your balance, your eyes squeezing shut.

“That’s it!” Seungcheol cheers you on from the water, keeping a hold on the surfboard so it doesn’t toss and tip as much.

“Look at her go, babe!” Seungkwan coos excitedly to Hansol from their spot in the sand, as his soulmate watches on with an amused smile.

“Bug, open your eyes!” Soonyoung laughs at your scrunched up face.

“Goober,” Jisoo laughs, both hands now in the air. “You’re doing it. Open your eyes.”

You slowly open your eyes, looking down to see your legs balancing on the board. Your eyes widen as you look around at Soonyoung, Seokmin, Seungcheol and Mingyu in the water, all cheering excitedly at you and Jisoo standing behind you with a proud grin.

“Holy fuck.” You laugh nervously. “I’m doing it.”

“WOOHOO!” Seungkwan cheers from ashore, waving excitedly with Hansol as Wonwoo simply gives you a thumbs up from beside your soulmate, who just stares with a bewildered look on his face, not knowing how to comprehend the feelings that are in his stomach.

“See?” Jisoo smiles charmingly at you, leaning in to press his lips to your temple. “I told you that you could do it.”

Jihoon grimaces at the shy smile that graces your face.

“Jihoon-ssi?”

“Hmm?” Jihoon’s brain switches into focus at the sound of your brother's voice calling out for him.

They had been back at the campsite now for roughly two hours after a long birthday dinner in the city for Seungcheol, full of fried chicken and even more alcohol. Everyone now has settled down around the campfire, ready for a final night of alcohol and drinking games for the last hurrah of the trip.

“Soonyoungie said that you are studying music production.” He smiles warmly at him. Jihoon bristles. “What made you want to pursue that?”

“O-oh.” He stutters. “Umm..”

It’s not that he was afraid of his soulmate’s brother and the fact that if he knew that he rejected his precious sister, he’d rip his head off, no, it was the fact that Jihoon isn’t a very sociable person. He has never been one to hold any type of conversation for very long with anyone unless it was something he was passionate about. Luckily for him, music is one of his specialties that he could go on for hours about. So, he does.

”My older cousin is an amateur producer and songwriter.” Jihoon quietly smiles. “He has a few albums that he’s made at the moment. His soulmate does choreography for some of his tracks. I always thought he was really cool and wanted to follow his footsteps and do what he does. I guess I’m kind of his protege now?” He shrugs his shoulders nervously with a chuckle. “There’s just something I find really interesting about breaking down a song into different segments and sections, and creating completely new beats and melodies from the source material.”

“Wow,” Seungcheol replies with curious eyes. “That’s actually really interesting.”

”I suppose so,” your soulmate nods his head as he smiles shyly to himself.

“Do you plan on releasing things in the future?”

“Oh! Um.. Maybe?” He blinks. “I write a few things here and there, but they’re not very good, I don’t think.”

“Don’t downplay your skills and hobbies, Jihoon-ssi.” Seungcheol pats his shoulder once as he rises from his spot by the campfire. “If you enjoy it, that’s all that matters.” He makes his way to grab himself a second serving of the birthday cake you had brought from your work for the final night of Seungcheol’s birthday celebrations.

Jihoon smiles to himself.

He is so kind. No wonder you turned out so well. After all, he did help raise you for most of your teen years.

“It’s not tap, tap, kick,” Soonyoung instructs loudly. “It’s tap, kick, tap! Yah, don’t you remember anything from this routine, Kwan-ah?”

“We made this dance four years ago, Hyung.” Seungkwan glares, hand on his hip. “Please spare me for not remembering a dance that is nearly HALF A DECADE old.”

“NO EXCUSES!” He shouts back, pointing dramatically as he begins to get back into position. “Five, six, seven, eight!” Seungkwan groans and begrudgingly begins to move in time to Soonyoung’s movements, much to your amusement as you weave your way through the camping chairs, bundles of bracelets in hand.

“One for you,” You chirp, two bottles of soju deep as you slide a bracelet onto Seungkwan’s wrist as you pass without skipping a beat. “And a specially made tiger one for you,” You coo, squeaking and giggling as Soonyoung takes your hand, twirling you in his arms and dipping you dramatically as the bracelet slides with ease onto his wrist, your loud laugh echoing through the empty forest and right into your soulmate’s ears, sending goosebumps down his arms.

”Thank you, Buggie Wuggie Boo,” Soonyoung coos, making you groan and shove him away.

“ICK!” You yell as you continue to pass bracelets through the group, Jihoon eyeing you out of the corner of his eye as you draw closer towards where he sits. “Here you go, Hannie-Oppa!”

”Thank you, sweetheart.” your brother’s soulmate smiles, ruffling your hair as he admires the colourful beads on his wrist.

Jihoon takes a deep breath as he feels your presence draw closer, eyes downcast as you fiddle with one of two bracelets in your hand. “Jihoon-ssi,” your voice is once again timid and shy, and he dislikes it. “I didn’t know what colour you liked, and I noticed your wardrobe is pretty void of colour, so…” You quietly place a simple black and grey beaded bracelet with his name written in lettered beads in the middle on his lap. “I thought it matches your look.”

Jihoon stares at the bracelet, picking it up and examining it between his fingers. He can feel your nerves running through your stomach, fiddling with the remaining bracelet in your hands. After a soft sigh, Jihoon slips the bracelet onto his wrist, cheeks warming at the kind gesture of you still including him.

“It’s perfect.” Jihoon smiles softly to you. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Your cheeks flush as you give him a small smile, turning and making your way towards Chan, who said quietly beside Wonwoo as he ate.

“I saved the best bracelet for last,” you smile to the youngest, sliding the final bracelet onto his wrist delicately.

“What colour is it, Noona?” Chan asks quietly, staring at the beads intently.

“Well,” you begin, sitting down beside him. “I made this with every coloured bead I could think of. It’s a rainbow.”

“Huh?” Chan balked, tilting his head. “Why would you do that? I can’t even see them…”

”I made it this way because then, the day that you meet your soulmate,” you nudge the bracelet, “you will be able to see all the colours of the rainbow straight away.” Your eyes light up with a little smile.

Jihoon’s stomach drops at the sound of hope and joy in your voice that is almost infectious, and he scowls to himself.

“Hannie-Oppa did the same for me, see?” You chirp, holding your hand out and showing Chan your nails, now chipped and slightly overgrown. “He gave me all the colours I could have on my hand, and I wanted to do the same to you.”

“B-but…” Chan takes a quiet breath. “Noona.. wh-what if… what if I meet my soulmate and it doesn’t work out? What if… what if I’m left behind and look like a complete fool?” He stares at his lap, knee bouncing nervously.

Your soulmate feels a twist of discomfort in his gut at the maknae’s question, turning his head to see the same discomfort evident on your face.

“Chan-ah,” you smile softly, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Don’t be silly.”

“B-but you-”

“Uh-uh-uh,” you wiggle your finger at him. “Things like that only happen to people like me, who are just simply unlucky in life.” Jihoon feels the dagger pressing against his chest. “You, little one, are lucky, and I know your soulmate will be absolutely smitten with you when you meet. And, in that impossible scenario,” You bump your shoulder against his, “you’ll always have all of these guys here to spend time with. And even Noona too.” You add on for good measure, smiling sweetly at him. Jihoon feels the dagger twist inside him. Chan shyly smiles back, leaning his head against your shoulder, signaling for you to give him a big side hug, cheek resting against the top of his head.

“Promise I’ll always have you, Noona?”

“Silly boy,” You giggle. “I couldn’t leave you alone, even if I tried.” You ruffle his hair once more, causing him to whine and swat your arm, your giggle growing once more as Jihoon feels his stomach twist and tighten, a million thoughts once again flooding his mind.

“Okay,” Seokmin settles comfortably in his chair, looking around at the circle. “Here’s a question.” He hums quietly at the small group that has formed around him of you, Wonwoo, Jisoo, Jeonghan and Jihoon. “If you could have one wish that could be granted, what would you wish for?” Before anyone can open their mouths, he points aggressively towards Jeonghan. “NO WISHING FOR MORE WISHES!”

“Yah, you’re no fun.” Jeonghan whines, slumping in his chair and crossing his arms.

“I would wish for…” Wonwoo mumbles. “Being able to have enough money in my pocket at all times to be able to afford what I need at that time.”

”That is… oddly specific.” Jisoo chuckles.

“But practical.” Seokmin grins.

“I would wish for Seokminnie to let me answer questions the way I want to.” Jeonghan huffs, shooting him a playful glare as Seokmin gasps loudly, pressing his hand to his chest in shock,

“How dare you!”

”What about you, Goob?” Jisoo nudges your side with a little smile.

“I’d wish soulmates didn’t exist.”

The group falls silent, the air filling with awkward tension as they balk, trying to think of an answer.

“Bug, I…”

“Not for the reason you think.” You mutter, staring into the fire with a dull look on your face. “If soulmate’s didn’t exist, I’d only have divorced parents, not a dead mother and an absent father. If soulmate’s didn’t exist, I’d still be able to go home and see my mother and tell her about how my day went. If soulmate’s didn’t exist, I’d actually be wanted.”

Jihoon feels his heart twist, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he eyes your face. You look empty. Jihoon can’t feel a thing, and that frightens him.

“C’mere.” Jisoo takes your hand delicately, leading you to a small clearing; the same clearing that Jihoon went to the night before.

The little conversations start up again, Jihoon’s ears zeroing in on Jeonghan’s light scolding to Seokmin as to why he’d ask such a ridiculous question. His ears are ringing as your emotionless words echo through his head, making him feel worse than he ever has before.

“Goober…” Jisoo encourages you quietly to speak.

“Remember how you asked me yesterday if I was okay?” Your voice shakes. “If I was broken?”

Jisoo nods slowly, hand resting on your shoulder.

“A-and I said to you I was fine?”

“Mhm…”

“I-I.. I’m not. I’m not okay.” You whimper, bottom lip trembling. “I’m living a good life, I have a job I love, friends and family who care about me, I can-” you hiccup. “I-I can see colour… and I’m fucking broken.”

You let out a loud sob, a heartbroken wail, letting yourself fall into Jisoo’s arms, your face burying into the warmth of his sweater as your arms wrap tightly around him. Jisoo feels his own tears filling his eyes at the sound of your broken cries, your hands gripping the back of his sweater for dear life, as if afraid he would disappear.

”I know, Goob… Don’t worry, I got you. Let it out.”

“Are you sure it’s been resolved?” Jihoon smiles at Ji-ah as they stroll through the street, making their way to Love Letter cafe.

It has been a week since he has returned from Busan with you and the others; the group having been mostly quiet as they recovered from the long weekend of partying and merging back into their daily lives. This is the first time Jihoon has seen his girlfriend, having given her space to get through her emergency. He’s finally happy he is able to have a date with her after being at university all week and catching up on the projects he wasn’t able to do while on the road trip.

“Yes, babe, I’m sure.” Ji-ah smiles back at him. For some reason, though, Jihoon finds the smile uneasy and almost hollow, and he can’t figure out why until a quiet voice cuts his thoughts short.

“Ji-ah?”

He pauses as he sees a tall man in front of him with a single rose in his left hand, right hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck.

“Hajoon.” Ji-ah whispers out with a nervous breath, almost like she’s been caught.

Jihoon freezes at the sight in front of him - his not-soulmate with red tinged cheeks and shy smile on her face, and a stranger looking just as shy and sheepish smiling back at her. He feels his stomach drop as his mind flashes with realization at the scene unfolding in front of him.

He knows the look on her face. He has seen that look before with Wonwoo and Mingyu, Junhui and Minghao, and especially with Seungcheol and Jeonghan.

His heart breaks a little, as Jihoon knows in his heart that he’s already lost his girlfriend to her real love, her soulmate.

Real Eyes, Fake Lies Taglist

@vixensss @hemmingsness @lizzymizzy-blogg @kawennote09 @breakfastburritosattiffanys @im-gemmy @friendlywraith @devinkelsey19 @kameko-ko @mar-627 @woozieeeee @milopenne @stellauniverse @addicsvt @changbinisms @phenomenalgirl9 @lanatheawesome @maidachi @jeanjacketjesus @sunnynapp @jihanniee @reallyshypost @jaeminsbuckethat @sweetchelly @iarayara @opheliaas-stuff @claireleem @hotricewoozi @beardedartgamingbakery @sumzysworld @lavayeon @unusuallyshy @woozixo @mirxzii @mhlsymlysn @seventeenthingsblr @kwanniesboo @loomsuhcats @markleehee @scuzmunkie @tumblerluvver @wooanghae @xxpr3ttyk173rxx @comingupwithacoolnameishard @whorecore-world @sana-is-ms-rmty @bitterbluemorningstar

(48/50)

[twstreverie]

sun and moon — 🌙 ☀️

sun/moon like s/o (kalim, jamil, rook, malleus) 🫶🏼

this idea kinda just happened, also because “o sol e a lua” is stuck in my head… I might do others with this <3

requests are open!

kalim al-asim

he adores you, to simply put it. he doesn’t mind one bit that you have more of an introverted nature — he balances that out. even if you don’t have the energy to go to one of his dorms feasts and parties he wouldn’t care. kalim is content with just you and him if that’s what you really wanted. he’ll take you on a carpet ride any night!

it’s a little funny to watch, but he’s sometimes you’re voice — since you’re quieter or don’t speak up and talk loud as much. you’ll hear him at least once or twice a day being like “oh they said—!”

the victories and celebrations that go off in his mind during the earlier parts of your relationship like when you started to laugh loudly around him or even when he hears you excitedly sharing something you like to him. he loves it all!

jamil viper

he hates to admit it but you sometimes make him feel so flustered and overwhelmed (in the best way) when it comes to your loud boasting of how much you love him or that instant “hey!!!” he hears the moment you see him. he has to pull down his hood a little sometimes jamil cant fight the warmth spreading on his cheeks. he’ll sigh and try telling you there’s no need for the energy (right in the middle of the school hallways ahaha) but does he actually want you to stop?

jamil tends to just let you ramble a lot, he’s a silent listener, giving once in a while a thought or two. not that he’s ignoring you he just doesn’t have the energy to talk sometimes — he’s content just doing work or even cooking and just listening to you go on.

has caught multiple times both overhearing and being told by others of your praise and talking highly of him — jamil was caught totally off guard when he had heard the first time. however by this point he isn’t surprised at all. I would be lying though if I said there wasn’t a smug grin after hearing.

rook hunt

rook is obsessed with you. sorry but he will be telling you an earful of his swooning and how much he is simply enamored by you. though you have no magic he claims that you’ve bewitched him.

I can just imagine you could just be sitting there reading and eating something during lunch silently. you could be doing basically nothing and look over and see rook with his head on his hand looking at you with heart eyes.

though he does most of the talking at times, he doesn’t mind. but I have to say at first it might’ve been a bit overwhelming with his nature for someone like you. at the same time, he can be very quiet when he wants to be, so you get both haha. he’ll even do stuff like write you letters and poetry (they’ve gotten pretty long), flowers, and from what I believe he is artistic you better believe he paints and draws you. you’re his muse.

malleus draconia

he utterly loves your affection, though he was initially surprised by your boldness but he could only lightly chuckle at you and your behavior. he indulges it anyway, he wants you to do this stuff. sebek definitely had a hard time having to deal with seeing you happily hug and kiss him whenever — even touching his horns! (he could’ve passed OUT)

not gonna lie malleus wants your attention and stuff anyway so like this is perfect for him — that both before your relationship and now that you’re so eager to be with him and such. because trust me, you’re his first and only, he just wants to spend his time with you. he is simply content basking in it, obviously.

he kinda just lets you drag him wherever and do what you want, he’ll follow you. but he would love something more quiet at times to, like during your nightly strolls when he sees you trying to follow and see some pretty creature or even small fairies you see time to time.

[halaxia]

cw | smut, semi-possessive sol, nsfw under the cut mdni

Solomon was a patient man.

He kept mostly to himself whilst at RAD, stealing glances your way in the subtlest of fashions whenever you might have happened to share a class, purposefully brushing his hand against yours after he asks you to hand him something, sending a playful wink in your direction when nobody was looking.

He was not one to enjoy answering incessant questions about himself and his personal affairs, and with how quickly rumours spread at RAD (usually thanks to Asmodeus’s natural ability to never be able to keep his mouth shut when he sees an inkling of a relationship between any two individuals), Solomon knew that the two of you would not be immune to being the center of demon-gossip around the school.

Whenever he would find himself at the House of Lamentation (which was quite often, seeing as you frequented there nearly every day and he took it upon himself to walk you back to Cocytus Hall after a long day spent being an attendant to the brothers), he let himself be a little more lax around you; lingering touches and innuendos did not go unnoticed by the brothers, nor did they fail to tell you just how much disdain they held for the sorcerer, always when he just happened to be in earshot.

Solomon cared naught for the contempt the brothers held for him, whether they voiced so or not—he always lurked around corners just long enough to hear you defend him.

He did not let his resolve crack around the brothers, not even around Simeon and Luke—despite how unnecessarily handsy everyone was with you, at the end of the day in Cocytus Hall when you were pressed up against Solomon with greedy lips roaming your body, he made sure you knew exactly who you belonged to.

“Solomon,” you moaned, arching your back as he pounded into your aching cunt. His hands moved from your hips to your throat, pulling you up so that your back met his chest, both of your bodies coated in a thin sheen of sweat.

“They can’t make you feel like this, can they?” he said breathily into your ear, kissing the spot just below it on your neck. “Those…those brothers think they know you better than I do, but they don’t, do they? Not when I have you like this, hm?” His hand moved slowly down your stomach to tease your clit, his other hand moving up and down the column of your neck slowly as you shook your head fervently, eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy.

“Use your words,” he encouraged, voice low and sultry as he slowed the movements of both his hips and his fingers, the change of pace prompting you to whine his name in protest.

“N-no,” you stuttered, desperately clenching around his cock, the constriction forcing his breath to catch in his throat.

“No, what?” he managed before his lips returned to your neck, biting gently on the places he knew would drive you insane—he knew, nobody else did. “You can do better than that.”

“Th-they can’t make me feel like this—please, Solomon,” you begged, a smirk tugging at his lips at your affirmation as he picked up the pace once again, the tips of his fingers brushing against your clit with just enough pressure to elicit a wanton moan from your lips.

“That’s my girl,” he praised, eyes fluttering shut as he kissed the skin of your neck with more urgency; his girl—you were his, and he was yours.

Solomon was patient, yes—he would hold his composure around others, ignoring (but not overlooking) the way the brothers’ eyes lingered on you when you turned your back to them, the whispers of you amongst the students at RAD, the apprentice of the strongest (and only) human sorcerer in the Devildom. He was patient because, at the end of it all, nobody knew you like he did—your secrets, your troubles, your body, you laid it all bare for him, nobody else.

Solomon relished in the fact that, no matter how desperately anybody else wanted you, they’d never get to have you—you’d chosen him over everybody else, and although he’d sometimes glance at the faded pact marks on your skin with disdain, they meant little to him when he knew that he was the only one who could have you under him in such a manner. His was the name that would be the first you’d utter in the early morning when you’d whine about having to wake up so early and beg for five more minutes with him, and his was the name that would be the last to leave your lips at the end of the night when the moon would shine brightly on your skin through his window, illuminating you so beautifully for only his eyes to see.

“I love you,” he breathed against your skin, your chests rising and falling in sync before he caught your lips in a kiss, much gentler than he had been with you a moment ago.

“I love you too,” you whispered, and Solomon felt peace knowing that his would be the only ears to hear you utter those words in the three realms. Not any angel, not any demon, and not any other human—it was just him and you.

[thebellearchives]

HEYYYY BELLE 💗💗💗 I am so excited to see your requests are open 😍💗 Can I please request Solomon + You’ll always be safe with me 😭💗 I am so in love with the way you write him and this prompt sounds so comforting! Thank you so much 💗💗

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄

~ solomon ; obey me [nightbringer]

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : even in the worst of situations you know there’s someone who will always be your safe place

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, set on nightbringer lesson 11, comfort and fluff, a little tiny bit of angst ~ established relationship

‧₊˚ a / n : aaaa winter ~ !! yesss of course anything for you love, i’m so glad you enjoy my sol shots (‘: thanks for requesting ily i hope you like this one too 😭🫶🏻

prompt list

You stared at the floor, where the faint blue luminescence illuminated its texture. Solomon and Thirteen were nearby, you could barely hear his voice explaining everything that had just happened and Thirteen arguing with him.

Their bickering turned into background noise until their words morphed into white noise. You brought your knees against your chest and rested your chin in your arms, ignoring the slight chill of the magic that kept books floating around this section of Thirteen’s cave. It had been so long since the last time you had lived such conflicts with the brothers, you had spent so many days and months living alongside them that you had forgotten how scary and anxiety inducing it was to be targeted by them. Or how heartbreaking it was now.

A hand was placed on your shoulder, Solomon’s familiar warm voice calling your name pulling you out of your messy mind.

“Did you listen to what I just told you?”

“Uhm, no, sorry” you shook your head slightly, trying to chase away your thoughts and focus on the present “what was it?”

Solomon’s silvery irises studied you, reflecting clear concern. The sorcerer sighed and sat down next to you.

“I’m really sorry you have to go through this… again.”

You bit your lower lip, trying to keep your composure. You were in a different place now, a place where mostly everything looked the same, all of your friends looked and sounded the same, and yet they weren’t. The brothers that loved you unconditionally now looked at you and saw nothing. Solomon’s hand suddenly grabbed yours, your body almost jolted in surprise to his touch.

When your widened eyes went to look for him you found him staring back with a melancholic expression painted on his features.

“You know I will always be here for you, right?” his soft voice warmed your heart “you can always count on me, I will always protect you.”

A knot formed in your throat, you stared at him, that sweet reassuring smile and the way his pearly white hair fell on top of his forehead, charming eyes fixed on yours. The man who had followed you through realms, through space and time, the one thing in your life that remained constant, imperishable.

Immediately you buried yourself in his chest. He sighed, his arms slid around your body and held you firmly, anchoring you safely amidst the chaos, the familiarity of his worn out cologne grounding you back into security.

“I know” you managed to answer, feeling the warmth of his body surround you and making all your fears and anxiety dissolve into thin air, his love was morphine to your pain.

“You will always be safe with me my love” Solomon buried his face in your hair, his nose grazing your temple.

The moment his lips left a small kiss on top of your eyebrow you knew. You knew there wasn’t a single place in any timeline safer than the arms of your lover.

[lyranova]

Hi can you write a college au + coffee shop au fic of delinquent Nacht x f!reader where the dynamic is NOT bad boy x good girl but bad boy x dense girl. Where both of them are college students and reader works part time as a barista. Please include Morgen and Yami as side characters.

Hiya anon, I apologize for the wait! Of course I can, and I did my best to work in Morgen and Yami as side characters. Also this isn’t really as fluffy as most other fics, this is more…neutral I guess? But I still hope you enjoy~!

Taglist: @loosesodamarble

Word Count: 1,315

Warnings: None

————

You watched as your newest co-worker, Nacht Faust, struggled with the coffee maker. He cursed and glared as it made a very unsettling hiss, and you couldn’t help but shake your head.

This guy…why on earth did he lie and say he had experience when he clearly did not?!

As you watched him continue to struggle, you couldn’t help but recall the day he had come up to you at school and asked if your parent’s coffee shop still needed another employee. You had told him that they did, and all he did was nod in response and walk away.

It had been really weird; but then again Nacht had always been weird ever since you two were kids, so it wasn’t really a surprise. But after he came up to you the next day and announced that you two were co-workers now as well as classmates you had been surprised!

You sighed and shook your head, you couldn’t believe that your parents had agreed to hire one of the most well known delinquents in town. But at the same time, you knew that your parents had a soft spot for him…

And so did you.

“ Good morning you two!” Morgen Faust greeted happily as he walked into the shop.

“ I wouldn’t say their morning is ‘good’ if that sound is any indication.” Yami Sukehiro, the other delinquent in town and Nacht’s friend, said as he winced at the awful hissing sound.

“ And I wouldn’t say your morning will be good if you don’t shut up.” Nacht muttered in irritation as he glanced at his chuckling friend.

You rolled your eyes before quickly greeting Morgen, ignoring Yami, and walking over to Nacht.

“ Here,” You began as you walked up behind him. “ You gotta do it like this.” You instructed as you reached around, grabbed his hands, and began to show him how the coffee machine worked.

“ I’ve got it,” He muttered, his voice quiet but as he turned away you swore you saw his cheeks were now bright pink.

You tilted your head, why was his face red? Did he maybe get too warm working with the coffee machine?

“ You sure?” You asked, and when he gave you a nod you released his hands and stepped away from him, walked out from behind the counter, and walked towards Morgen and Yami.

“ I take it that training isn’t going well?” Morgen asked you with a nervous laugh, and you shook your head.

“ Nope, not at all,” You sighed as more cursing and a loud crash could be heard from Nacht.

“ It could be worse,” Yami began as he leaned back in his seat. “ He could’ve burnt down the coffee shop already.”

“ Don’t say that, or he just might!” You exclaimed in panic, an image of the coffee shop burning down flashing in your mind. Yami laughed while Morgen just shook his head.

“ To be honest, I really don’t understand why he applied here,” You admitted after a moment. “ I mean, I know he needed a job…but why did he apply here of all places?”

“ Hm, I wonder,” Morgen hummed mysteriously, his eyes telling you he knew exactly why his twin had applied there.

But lucky you didn’t have to wait very long to hear the reason.

“ He applied here because he likes you, you idiot,” Yami explained as he crossed his arms.

You stared at the pair for a moment, your eyes blinking rapidly as you tried to process what he had just said, but then you laughed.

“ That’s a good one Yami, you should make jokes like that more often!” You laughed as you patted his shoulder.

Morgen and Yami exchanged a look.

“ He…isn’t joking,” Morgen admitted hesitantly, his eyes now holding a serious look in them. “ That was the sole reason he applied here.”

“ That punk wanted to find an excuse to spend more time with you outside of school,” Yami added.

“ You…really didn’t know?” Morgen asked softly, and you shook your head slowly.

That didn’t make sense; Nacht, your childhood friend, liked you?! There was no way that was true…

But as you began to put all the pieces together, everything made sense. He would act hot and cold with you, he would say and do things that felt a little out of character for him, and whenever you got too close or held his hands like you did a moment ago his face would turn red and he would look nervous.

He liked you…

“ Why?” You muttered in confusion, you brows furrowing.

“ Why what?” Morgen and Yami asked in equal confusion.

“ Why does he like me? Out of all people?” You asked them in disbelief, and Yami shrugged.

“ I dunno, why don’t you go ask him?” Yami suggested, with Morgen nodding in agreement.

But you just stood there; your mind going a mile a minute as you tried to decide what to do, when suddenly another loud crash rang out through the coffee shop as a couple of mugs broke.

“ I…I-I need to get back to work,” You muttered as you walked away from your friends and went back behind the counter.

And for the rest of the day your mind was completely filled with nothing but Nacht and this new revelation.

“ You okay? You’ve been acting weird since this morning.” Nacht asked as the two of you stood outside the now closed coffee shop. He always walked you home after work, claiming that it was dangerous for you to walk home by yourself late at night.

You had laughed, saying that you could handle yourself, and he agreed but said that it didn’t hurt to have someone watching your back just in case.

But now that entire memory looked completely different than it had before…

“ Yeah, I’m fine.” You told him softly as you finished locking the shop and turned around to face the street.

Nacht’s eyes narrowed, not believing you for a second, and just as he was about to tell you so you spoke up.

“ Do you like me?”

He felt his heart stop dead in his chest at your question, and as he slowly turned to face you he noticed you were still staring out at the street.

“ Where did you hear that from?”

“ Yami and Morgen.”

“ Tsk, those two...” He muttered in irritation as he also turned to face the street. When he got back to the dorms he was definitely going to give them an earful, especially Yami!

The air quickly became thick and awkward as you and Nacht stood there, but eventually he sighed.

“ Yeah, I like you,” He admitted softly, his gaze drifting towards the ground.

You hummed.

“ Do…you also like me?” He asked you hesitantly, his voice even softer than before. The tone sounded nervous, and slightly afraid.

“ I don’t know,” You admitted softly as your gaze also drifted towards the ground. “ Everything feels…different now between us.”

Nacht nodded slowly.

“ A good different, or a bad different?” He asked as he looked over at you, trying to gauge your emotions through your expressions, but you weren’t giving anything away.

“ I think…it’s a good different,” You admitted softly, your brows furrowing in thought. Nacht let out a soft breath he hadn’t realized that he was holding.

It wasn’t a direct confirmation, but it wasn’t an outright rejection either.

“ I think we’ll have to spend more time together for me to figure it out,” You told him as you finally looked up and turned to face him. “ Is that alright?”

Nacht’s eyes widened and his brows raised in surprise, but he quickly composed himself and he looked away shyly.

“ I think I can work you into my schedule,” He said with a small grin.

“ Great! So should we have dinner tomorrow after work?”

Nacht turned to face you again, his grin widening, and his head nodding in agreement.

“ I think I can make that work.”

————

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

[sweetestlamb]

The Boy is Mine

Summary: Sol deals with the struggles of dating a kpop idol. It goes very well for all parties involved. (Rated Filth again)

She knows that you can't be too clingy especially when the relationship is fresh, you're supposed to be aloof, pleasant and agreeable. That's what all the magazines say that men want, a cool mysterious woman. Someone that always keeps you guessing what they'll do next.

Someone nothing like her.

But how exactly is she supposed to be any of that with a boyfriend like this? How many people on the planet get to date someone who was their idol who then turned out to be an even better person?

There cannot be many living this dream and she cannot ruin this and ultimately drive Sun Jae away. So she tries to be cool and agreeable.

But it's hard when you're with someone that everyone wants. And she can't even blame the starry eyed admirers, she was just like them. Is just like them. Sun Jae is objectively gorgeous, with a face that could be carved from marble and lips as luscious as the softest petals. Not to mention his body is a work of pure art-hard and cut, and she's seen more of it than any rabid fan girl. To put it simply he's unbelievably hot and it's hard not to cling to him like a desperate koala.

Most days she wants to climb him like a tree.

And honestly she's been short most of her life so others towering over her isn't new but nothing to his calibre. She feels infinitely fragile when she's with him.

Like now, his hands are so huge that they completely dwarf her own. If it were anyone else there would be an element of fear but she knows that he would never hurt her, would rather hurt himself first. It's the same for her, they are each other's biggest weaknesses. And strengths.

"What are you thinking about so diligently that you're ignoring your boyfriend?" His deep voice rips her out of her thoughts and she smiles as he swings their hands as they walk. The only reason they haven't been discovered is because of his face mask and sunglasses. But she doubts that would stop a diehard stan from recognizing the massive idol. Thankfully they haven't encountered any, yet.

"Nothing. Just thinking about how nice the weather is. I'm glad we came out."

And then she adds a smile to go alongside the huge lie she just told.

She doesn't know if he believes her but she's saved by the bell when his phone rings and it's his manager demanding to know where he is and why he isn't at the meet and greet.

So just like that their impromptu date comes to an end and he's whisked away with sweet promises of seeing her soon and she nods agreeably.

Shoving her insecurities deep, deep down.

It's all over the internet.

Pictures of their kiss plastered across her phone screen from every angle and it makes her jaw lock.

Sun Jae's wide eyes meet her from the still shot, his newly hired bodyguard had intervened before things could go any further but the overzealous fan had already gotten what she wanted, a kiss far too close to his lips. Lips that only she should be privy to.

It's not his fault. He's the victim here and she had immediately texted him to see if he was okay because this couldn't be about her. Her jealousy was juvenile and she needed to keep it under lock so she wouldn't scare him away.

And later that week when they're on the couch, shoulder to shoulder and he's stumbling over his words trying to explain what happened she plasters her patented 'cool' smile and brushes him away.

"It's okay. You didn't do anything. It wasn't your fault."

And she truly believes this. In her heart. But that doesn't impede the green eyed creature lurking there too.

She goes to work and tries her best to focus, listen to her boss, pretend to care about office drama, clicking away at her computer in a daze. Nobody knows what they are to each other so her worries are her own to shoulder and carry.

It's only when she takes a break in the staff lounge that she hears what has the whole office in such a buzz since this morning.

"......think it's true. He's never dated anyone before even though he's sooooo hot. I'm so jealous, he's the hottest one in the group."

"You saw the pictures, they look amazing together! Celebrities like them just make sense."

And she timidly takes a look on her phone opening up her Goople browser and it's the first thing she sees.

"Ryu Sun Jae and Kim Syeon spotted getting cozy on the Red Carpet, could this mean a total eclipse of idol's heart?"

Paparazzi shots from every angle flood her timeline, the young actress looked gorgeous in all of them with her ink black hair and smooth pale skin. And the worst part was how sickenly good they really did look together.

With her they either looked like an odd couple or siblings according to some strangers but that wasn't the case now, the other woman was tall with a slim statuesque figure.

What were they talking about? Why did they have to look so damn good together? Why was this making her so upset? She wanted to cry.

The ache in her chest is unbearable.

She's outside this door before can she talk herself out of it.

Fist lifted to knock but the door opens before she can touch the rich thick wood and then she's looking at that gorgeous face that she has been missing.

"Sol? I was just coming to talk to you!"

Probably to explain. But she can't hear him because all she can see is replaying in her mind is the video of a stranger kissing her boyfriend or the actress staring up in awe at her boyfriend and it's driving her crazy.

So she pushes him back through his opened door, ignoring his questions and confusion.

"I already know. I know you have a perfectly good explanation for what happened and I know it isn't your fault again but....you said you were mine. You said everything of yours belonged to me so why?"

He stares at her with a gaping mouth, looking like a fish out of water. If she wasn't so angry she would think about how cute he was. But now is not the time for that.

After a moments pause he finally finds his voice back.

"Why what? I really can explain, it's all Dong Seok's fault he told her that--"

"Why are you letting others touch what's mine? Why does everything think that you are with somebody else? Why do I have to hear everyone talk about how hot my boyfriend is and how much they want to fu......"

She slaps her hand over her mouth before the expletive can escape. But his wide eyes make it clear that he knows exactly what she wanted to say.

His mouth only drops lower. And the silence is deafening until he breaks it with a laugh, one singular booming laugh.

"You're jealous."

"Of course I am! How could I not be?"

She almost stomps her feet in frustration as he smiles at her, infuriating with how gorgeous he looks with a smile on his face.

"Are you happy?" She demands and he grins even wider, shameless in his glee.

"I already told you. I belong to you. If you hate others touching what's yours so much, you touch me instead." He challenges her leaning that exquisite body against the wall and opening his arms as if begging her to come and get him.

She's thought about this too many times, staking her claim. But she doesn't know where to start, this was never supposed to be her reality. Even in her dreams it was too much for her to handle.

He watches her with a penetrating stare before raising his hand and slowly opening one button on his dark green button down. Then another and another and another. Until she can see his abs peeking beneath the open shirt and her tongue feels too heavy in her mouth.

He's too hot for her to function.

And still she remains frozen in front of him unable to move a muscle as he strips for her right in the foyer.

"What? Cat got your tongue? And what do I have to do to get it instead?"

No way. This can't be her Sun Jae but at the same time this is how he speaks to her now ever since they stumbled into a relationship. Always teasing and hinting at something.... she's not sure they're ready for.

But his admittance that he's hers helps her figure out her next move.

My Sun Jae.

That gets her moving. The blood rushing through her body again. He is hers. She is not only allowed to touch him but he wants her too, and that's more than anyone else can say.

She has to kiss him, there is nothing else to do but get her lips on him.

He's delicious, a taste that is distinctly his own that she will never get enough of. Mint with an undercurrent of citrus and spice, she presses close for a better taste and it's only then that she remembers his current state of undress.

Nobody but her had ever touched his stomach and so she does so, lavishly raking her nails over the hard plane and then he wraps his arms around her and spins them until she's smashed into the wall.

"What are you doing to me Sol?"

His voice is husky now, wrecked in a way that she wants to bottle up and play at nights when she needs that extra bit to fall over the edge with his name on her tongue.

"Whatever I want."

And then she's on her knees in the foyer. And she knows this is bad, so so bad and she's a good girl. She's never done this before, there was no time to think about anything like this when she was bitterly watching life go by in a wheelchair. But everything has changed and so in this universe she's bending down boldly and staring up at the slack face of her boyfriend.

"Wha- are you serious?"

She can feel his tension like electricity in the air. And she's never been more serious about anything in her life.

"Does this belong to me too?" She strokes up the leg of his pants before curling her hand around the bulge that seems to be begging for her attention.

She almost cringes at her own question feeling like an amateur porn star and she half expects him to laugh at her cheesy lines but instead he grows harder, longer, thicker in her hand and she's terrified she might have bitten off more than she can chew....or swallow.

"Yes. Fuck. It belongs to you, only you. I've only ever thought about you while....." He trails off but she's not that innocent not to be able to fill in the blanks.

He thought about her when he did that.

Touched himself.

She did the same so it shouldn't be surprising but she was shocked all the same.

"What do you think about?" She inquiries as she begins to stroke him, up and down, getting a feel for him through the only barrier between his... And her hand.

"How much I want to make you......scream. The ways that I could drive you crazy. How much I want to.....taste you and feel you."

And she can feel the effects his words are having on her, can feel the heat between her legs, slicking them up. But she can also hear the effect she is having on him, he's struggling to string sentences together panting above her and she can feel the biggest sign of his arousal growing in her palms.

She grips the metal zipper looking up at him and he nods so quickly she worries about his neck momentarily. But that thought fades away just as quickly and she opens up her gift.

"It's so big." She whispers aloud.

Much like the rest of him, his hands, his feet, his height. And now his....

"You're killing me here." He groans with a sudden buck into her hands which results in his head slamming back into the wall.

"Sun Jae! Are you okay?"

She almost stops her ministrations to check on him but he's practically vibrating in her hands as he shouts, "I'm fine! Don't stop, please."

She didn't know men could get wet too but she can see his fluids start to darken the elastic material of his boxers.

What would it taste like? Bitter? Salty?

And oh god, what are earth is she thinking? Was she some kind of pervert?

But despite her internal reprimands her hands never stop moving until she tugs at the band of his boxers and pulls them down with shaking hands.

He's naked. Oh my god.

She's so nervous she could die but she lets instinct carry her along since her experience is lacking.

It juts out impatiently as soon as it's released and she cries out as it nearly hits her in the face. Thankfully Sun Jae had enough foresight to anticipate that and she watches as he takes himself in hand cupping his erection carefully away from her face.

"Careful."

Even in a time like this he's worrying about her, unbelievable.

"Can I...?"

His jaw clenches as her incomplete question, his handsome face contorted in something that looks like pained pleasure.

"Do you not want me to-" her heart aches at the implications but his heated glare is enough to shut down any insecurity or doubt she might have left.

He shakes his head rapidly before answering.

"I'm scared I'm going to.....come too fast if you touch me."

She has no idea how exactly to make a man come, especially a man like him who is so sexy he can probably accomplish that with just a look. But underneath her nerves lay her possessive desires and she wants to be the only one to see him like that, shaking in pleasure because of her touch. So she marches onward.

"How do I.......do that?" She whispers with her head down.

"Well first don't do that." He instantly tilts her head back up with a firm touch of his finger to her chin.

"Look at me. I want to see your face and every expression that you make."

She blushes but obeys his order mostly because she couldn't look away even if she wanted to. She's stuck in his web and has no desire to escape.

"Okay. Look at you. What else?"

"Are you ser- do you really want me to tell you what to do?"

And for a minute she worries that this might be turning him off, her blatant inexperience and need for directions. This is definitely the least sexy way to seduce someone but it's the only way she knows, she's eager to learn what makes him tick.

"Whatever you're thinking right now is wrong. I've wanted you for as long as I can remember, there is nothing you can do that I won't like. Nothing."

Her heart swells at his reassurance but at the same time her eyes meet his hard length and his words are mumbled beneath the rushing of blood to her head.

There is a bead of thick white substance at the very tip and that tingling feeling surges inside her once more.

What would it taste like....

There's only one way to find out.

He's still talking above her but his words are inaudible as she shifts forward with a sudden burst of confidence, opening her mouth just enough to let her tongue peek out and licking the fluid right off him.

Bitter.

That's her first impression but that gives way to salty, then earthy and warm. She takes another taste, more certain now after facing the unknown. Leaning forward she pops the entire tip into her mouth, making sure to cover her teeth lest she hurt him.

As she shifts her hands to his hips she can feel how tightly coiled his muscles are.

He's holding back for her sake and she's truly grateful.

Remembering his words from earlier she looks up at him with his cock dripping in her mouth, slowly licking away the liquid as it pools.

So this is what he looks like.

Fucking glorious. His eyes are screwed shut as he bites down onto his lush bottom lip and she can see a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Sometimes it's intimidating how handsome he is, she wonders what she did in her past life to deserve him.

"Please..... move."

And she perks up at his directions, eager to learn how to make him think about nothing but her.

She doesn't know that this isn't necessary because she's already taken over his heart and mind.

"Like this?" She mumbles around the flesh in her mouth, slowly drawing her mouth back and then pushing it forward trying to swallow a little bit more of him.

"Ah! Yeah...yeah. Just like that. Slower and keep looking at me."

It's a bit difficult because instinctively she wants to look down to make sure she's doing it right but she wants to give him everything he wants. So she stares up at him, flushing at his hard penetrating gaze.

He looks wild, like he's barely wrangling in his true desires.

It's a bit awkward at first but she's grateful when he sudden holds her face, the question clear in his dark eyes.

She nods.

And it's hot beyond her imagination, feeling him grip her face and shove himself into her mouth. He's too gentle as if he thinks she'll break but she accepts the treatment, opening herself up wider.

He thrusts into her once, twice, a shuttering third time before he speaks again, "I need more. Can you take more?" He pleads and his husky tone makes her center twist into knots.

His voice has alway made her feel things but never to this capacity. Never in a way that was so hot blooded.

And she doesn't know what more really entails in this instance but she's so horny right now there isn't much he can ask for that she would deny.

"Mmhmm." She moans around him and oh, he must like that because she can feel him jump in her mouth.

She takes a mental note.

Sunjae likes vibration.

And then there's more, he pushes in deeper and she's forced to open wider to give him space and she blinks away the moisture in her eyes. It's a strain but she refuses to stop now she's made it this far.

A tear falls down her cheek.

He's watching her intently and her breath hitches as he wipes the tear away with his thumb. She worries that he's going to stop and check on her again but this Sun Jae in front of her now is different than what she's used to.

He doesn't slow down, not even a little bit instead thrusting at a tempered pace now until she feels like she might choke on him and more tears spill out and he grunts above her, saying filthy things to her.

Telling her how good she looks. How much he loves her mouth. How badly he wants to taste her too.

She nods passively at his dirty ramblings, giving up all control as he thrusts into her mouth over and over and over again.

The pace is almost explosive and she hangs on for dear life as he uses her roughly, no longer concerned with her comfort too lost chasing his own pleasure and although she's crying full of dick on a floor she's never left more powerful. More desirable.

She wants him to be selfish.

And she wants to be selfish in return.

"Look at me. Look at me." He pleads bucking wildly now and this feels familiar, she's seen x-rated videos before and she knows what comes next. And he must too because he starts to pull away, giving her an out.

But she doesn't want one.

He had said it himself, everything about him belonged to her.

So she grabs onto his hips and refuses to let go, and his resistance only lasts for a second before he's plowing into her and filling up her, so badly that it spills from the sides of her lips and she is powerless to do anything but wait and keep sucking.

"Fuck!"

He shouts before collapsing, finally freeing his length from its home.

They stare at each other in awe, her in disbelief that she just gave Sun Jae a blowjob in the foyer and him that any of this is reality and not his mind tormenting him.

"You don't have to swa-"

She gulps and licks her lips defiantly.

"Ugh you're going to get me hard again!" He cries, covering his eyes.

That would be impressive, she did not think that was a feat possible for the average man but her Sun Jae has never been average in any sense.

She opens her mouth to speak but feels the strain in her throat and coughs a little before trying again.

"Was that okay?"

He moves his hands and looks as if she just asked the world's dumbest question.

"I'm pretty sure my soul left my body."

She giggles and then covers her mouth still unsure of how to behave after doing that.

It was so unexpected. She practically jumped him but from the look on his face it was no hardship to bare. So she won't apologize.

"What made you suddenly want to...?" He trails off while starting to tuck himself away, she sneaks a peek before he's covered again.

So big. How was that meant to go inside her?

She blushes at the thought.

She really was a pervert huh?

It's not until he lifts a perfectly pucked brow that she remembers that he asked a question. Oops.

"I.... Just.....I guess I have been a little bit jealous. I tried not to be because I know it's stupid but I still couldn't help it." She admits shamefaced but willing to be honest with him now.

"Why is it stupid? I get jealous about you all the time, it's natural. I want you all to myself and I want all your attention. You're allowed to be jealous too."

But he's a pop icon and idol. Surely she needs to tamper her jealousy if they're going to be together. Right?

He holds her face, dragging her closer easily .

" They can't have me the way you have me. Nobody can. I want to belong to you."

Her heart pounds at the declaration and she lets him tug her in and kiss her ever so sweetly, so different from his treatment of her mouth just minutes ago.

She thinks that he might find it weird to taste himself on her tongue but he kisses and suckles at her mouth as if it's of no concern. They make out until she's lightheaded and dizzy, somehow by the end she's wounded up in his lap.

She's too distracted by his teasing tongue to notice his fingers sneaking under her skirt to tease at her slit through her panties, lost in all these new sensations.

She wants him badly but....it's too fast. She's too nervous about being bad at it.

So she tenses up and immediately he stops and pulls away.

"Sorry! Sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

And she hates how guilty he looks like he thinks she will be disappointed or upset and that's the furthest thing from the truth.

"I liked it. I always like when you touch me but...I don't think I'm ready for that yet. You don't have to.... return the favor I just wanted to make you feel good."

He blinks slowly at her and then pulls her fingers up to his lips and kisses each digit one by one.

"Okay. We can stop. We only do what you're comfortable with."

"You too. You have to be comfortable too, it's not just about me." She amends instantly and he smiles charmingly that dimple creasing his perfect face.

"Trust me I'm comfortable with everything as long as it's with you."

She smiles at his admission, confidence surging at his words.

"And to be clear I wasn't trying to return any favors, I don't think you know how badly I want to taste you."

"What are you even saying? Let's get off the floor." She swats at his bicep and tries to crawl away but he grabs her leg and holds on tight, she swallows as she feels his hot breath on her ear as he crowds into her space from behind. His spicy scent wrapping her up in a cocoon.

"I bet you taste sweet. I'd lick you until you screamed and even then I wouldn't stop. Not even if you cried again even though you looked so damn pretty crying. I'd put my fingers in you and watch them sink deep down imagining that it was my-"

"Sun Jae, please" she whimpers in his hold, clutching her legs lest she roll over and let him do everything he's promising right here and now.

"Please what Sol? What do you want baby?" He whispers back, nibbling at her lobe now.

He's called her baby before and it never fails to get her hot and bothered.

This time is no different.

"I need you..."

He moans at that grinding his revived erection into her ass and she jumps at the immediate pleasure.

"I need you to let me go."

"Okay I'll let you go. But when you go home I want you to think about me and make yourself feel good. Can you do that for me baby?"

"I can do it."

"Good girl." He pats her head and with that lets her go before offering her a hand up. She tries not to blush at how easily he can lift her but it's a losing battle.

He gives her a look but says nothing thankfully.

"You didn't give me a chance to speak earlier but I wanted to clear some things up. That fan didn't kiss me, I turned my head and I won't be doing any more fan meets for a while."

She starts to argue but he silences her with a finger on her lips.

"Shhhh. I'm not finish yet."

She nods, snapping her mouth closed.

"I did that for myself. I need break from.... everything. I feel like a piece of meat sometimes and I just need some time without being constantly objectified by strangers."

She understands. She could never handle so many people wanting her attention and doing anything to have it even if it might invading her privacy and personal space.

"And I already told my management team to put out an article denying any affiliation with that actress, I don't even know her or know why anyone would think we're dating. She's not my type."

And she wasn't aware that he had a type.

"What's your type?" She can't help but ask. Trying and failing to look nonchalant.

"A girl so short I have to break my neck to kiss her who gets so jealous of me that she jumps me in the hallway and sucks my--"

"Oh my god shut up!" She cries, punching him twice before scurrying away.

"I was going to say 'my soul out'. What did you think I was going to say! Sol! Sol, why are you running away? Answer the question."

And she races to the bathroom shutting herself inside with a giggle as he begs her to open up and promises to be good. And eventually she's weak enough to do just that and he tickles her until she's out of breath from laughter.

And even later that night, she makes good on her promise. Finger deep inside herself with nothing but Sun Jae on her mind and on her tongue.

[obbystars]

Little Light

Synopsis: Not quite sent from above.

Notes: OC-Insert/Self-insert / Sebastian Solace x Oberon Sol / Oberon lore! / also not romantic despite the oc/self-insert ship lol / cursing / just silly ideas in here / p.AI.nter’s in here! / NOT CONNECTED TO SALVATION as this one is actually adding Oberon into the lore of Pressure / You can read Oberon’s document!

Credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

(I said this wouldn’t be often but I’m getting ideas uhhhhhhh- anyway I have been thinking about trying my hand at p.AI.nter for a bit. He probably won’t be added to the list though.)

He’s not quite sure how long it’s been since he’s been locked in this containment cell. Thankfully, he does remember how he got here and clearly too. He managed to locate one of the facilities that’s owned by the sinners he’s been keeping an eye on. He went as far as to dive into the water and pierce through the Veil of the Let-Vand Zone. The water pressure didn’t even affect him, but he didn’t get very far before they spotted him. It only took minutes before all eyes were on him, but he didn’t fight back and let them take him.

Now all he felt were needles in his skin as he was held up by some sort of mechanism. He’s aware of what they’re doing and what they’re going to use it for, but he didn’t feel as angry as he probably should be. Despite all he had witnessed, he didn’t hate them for any of this. He’s not quite sure why.

He feels his wings chained down like that was going to do anything. One of the researchers got a little too close for comfort, and he admits that he may have been a little too harsh towards them. Now, because of that, they put a heavy metal box over his head. The voices outside were muffled, sometimes he heard machines moving, and sometimes he hears a door opening and closing.

Maybe curiosity did kill the cat. He vaguely remembers a discussion of a Guardian Angel being locked up in this place too for the same reason. He wonders where they could be held at. Sure his relationship with the other angels were rather complicated, but he can’t just turn away from something like that. There’ll be an opening soon enough. He just needs to wait, and frankly, he has all the time in the world.

He’ll just close his eyes for a little while. He wonders how many people have passed through his realm only to be greeted by no one. What form did he leave it in again?

However many hours, days, weeks, or months it’s been, he eventually hears a loud blaring sound followed up with an announcement he can’t quite hear. Something must be wrong, but that might mean this is his chance. He attempts to move his wings, but they could only twitch. He never realized just how tight the binds were, but he’s not surprised.

After a few hours, he hears machines moving until he’s suddenly dropped. The binds on his wings had fallen off as well. All that was left was the box on his head. He feels around the metal structure until he feels something that could resemble a lock. It doesn’t feel like a usual lock that needs a basic key for it, but if he could just…

A beep is heard and the box opens with a hiss. He pulls it off to be greeted by a dark room lit up with faint red lights. He drops the box and begins to stretch out his wings, his arms, and his legs.

…Now where was he?

The glass in front of him had shattered which gave him an opening to leave the containment room. He saw some scratch marks left by something big on the other side. He ultimately ignores it as his main concern at the moment is the location of the Guardian Angel. He wonders how they’ll react to him, but that’s saying if they even know him and what he does.

He shrugs it off, knowing full well he doesn’t expect nor does he look for forgiveness for it. Helping them would simply be his decision, but if he were to encounter anyone here who was an unfortunate victim under the sinners, then they would be his top priority. He hasn’t run into anyone yet, which made him feel relieved. Hopefully the people here managed to get out unscathed.

As he steps out into a hall, another loud blaring sound echoed through the facility.

“Attention, Z-222 has escaped containment. Do not let it leave the blacksite.”

He looks up, noticing a camera pointing at him. He raises a finger and swipes, knocking it off its hinges and shattering. That may be problematic. He’ll have to be careful from now on to avoid getting captured again. While he’s at it, perhaps he could also take a look around and see what others things are being kept here. Hopefully one of the rooms will have the Guardian Angel.

What he ended up getting caught up on, however, were some documents that had been left behind. Every single one he’s found in containment rooms, whether it was still intact or not, he thoroughly read the document. He’s not quite sure why, but he’s learned new things about this world with every document he’s picked up. He never knew such things existed until now.

As he opens more and more doors, the more he feels frustration beginning to boil up. There has been no documents mentioning the Guardian Angel, no clues on where they could be keeping them. Perhaps it was a good move for them to keep them separated, but damn it. Just how big was this place?

He comes across yet another room with two ways to go, but one of the large door’s wheels begin to turn. With no where else to go, he retreats into the side room just behind the other door and closes it before they could see him. He steps back from the door and turns around to see a computer with almost a cartoon-like face draw on it. It was locked behind a cage.

“O-Oh! Hello!” They chimed, “Uh… You don’t look like one of the workers here… H-How did you escape?”

A talking machine? And one that seems intelligent than the majority. Sentient, too.

He tilts his head, “I wish I knew, strange one. Perhaps someone had released me, but I never saw them as the people here had put a box over my head,”

“Someone released you? Oh, that must’ve been Sebastian then!”

“Hm? Sebastian?”

“Oh, right.. Box over your head,” the machine hummed, “He’s a pretty big guy. Uh, he’s blue, has an angler light bulb and a long tail. I think you’ll know it’s him when you actually see him,”

“You say as if I should go speak to him,”

Maybe his tone was a bit off which caused the machine to seem slightly nervous. He’s still not quite used to interacting with others despite his constant visits to the living realm and his interactions with their souls in his own little realm. Business talk can be vastly different from casual, after all.

“I-I mean-! You don’t HAVE to if you don’t want to!” They exclaimed, frantically trying to explain, “I just think maybe… Maybe if you wanna get out of here too, you could talk to him. He said he’d help me get out too, so…”

He thought about it for a moment. This machine seems oddly human despite it clearly being a simple program, but the tone, the face drawn on the screen, the reactions they express… It was like a person’s consciousness was in it. Strange.

“Tell me. What is your name?”

“My name? I mean, everyone really just called me “the painter.” Or just Painter. Even my… My creator,”

The sudden pause and shift in tone in their voice caught their attention. This brings him to ask, “What was your creator’s name?”

The machine looks up at him. They were silent until their expression changed into a rather sad one, “███████ ███████████████,”

That name was on a file in his realm. He remembers reading it as he stumbled upon his realm. If there was another face underneath the black mask, he was sure he’d be smiling. He had a pleasant talk with him when he passed by his realm. To this day, he still wonders why ███████ ultimately chose death over life.

“He was a good man, Painter,”

It was almost as if the machine’s expression lit up, “W-Wait, you knew him?! But, how-?”

“Please, I’d rather not fry your circuits,” he laughed, “But believe me when I tell you that he is at peace,”

“Well… O-Okay, I’ll believe you. I guess it’s nice to know he’s in a better place now,” as the machine says that, the lights suddenly flickered, “Oh, don’t go anywhere yet,”

He stares at them for a moment before the floor begins to shake. He had to balance himself as the trembles intensified and a muffled roar was heard just beyond the door.

The machine sighed, “Yeah, that’s been happening a lot lately. Been seeing it happen on the cameras before whatever it was knocked it out,”

“I see. I’ll keep an eye out then,”

The machine’s face turned into a smile, “What’s your name by the way?”

It was his turn to stare at the machine in silence. Part of him figured they already knew, but he stands corrected.

“The sinners called me Z-222. But for you, Painter, it is Oberon Sol,”

“Z-222? Oberon Sol… Ohh! You’re the one they mentioned in the announcement a few hours ago!”

He laughs, nodding, “Yes, the very same. I should run along now and find this Sebastian you mentioned. Until we meet again, Painter, and maybe then I’ll try my hand at painting with you,”

“Really? You mean it? Okay! I’ll see you around!”

Oberon nods, opening the door slightly to check if there was no one. Once he confirmed the room was empty, he leaves and makes sure to close the door behind him. He makes a break for it through the door that had opened.

He’s been trying to keep track of time in his head. It must’ve been around five to six hours since he was awakened by the alarms. Maybe even more. He hasn’t seen any clocks around to properly keep track of time, but perhaps that was intentional when this place was made. You’d only know if you are told or you have a watch that still works.

He comes across a somewhat narrow tunnel. He can’t see anything outside the windows other than the occasional underwater bombs that look a bit too close even for tempered glass. It was way too quiet as well. He hasn’t seen anyone, let alone any of the researchers or even the guardsmen. Part of him begins to wonder if the people who were in charge of him are still alive.

He hoped so.

He soon finds himself looking through drawers, looking for anything that may prove useful later. Light sources, however, aren’t that useful to him. He can create his own ball of light after all.

The next room he stumbles into has its glass slightly broken. It was enough to have water start leaking through, but he quickly notices that one of the edges is slightly darker. It’s red.

This blood’s fresh…

He decides to follow it, eventually reaching the end of the tunnels and a room with five corpses. These people didn’t look like workers or even the guards. Those were prisoner outfits. Seeing them like this caused his chest to feel a bit heavy. Did they send them down here? How cruel.

There’s no blood coming from any of them. There didn’t seem to be any physical done to them, at least on the outside. He kneels down to one, checking to see if he can find out what happened and maybe even recognize this one’s face.

He can’t figure out what happened. He’ll need to look through their file in his realm, but that right now can’t be done.

He returns his attention to the blood trail as it implies the person had checked each one before they moved on to the next. Looting, perhaps. The trail then leads to the next room over. Before he exits, he looks back to the bodies and only hopes that their deaths were swift and painless.

As he stepped into the next room and closed the door, he heard a click and felt something press against the side of his head.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you trailing me,” the voice growled.

He turns to the person as his small wing gently pushed the gun away. Half of his body was strangely human with an extra arm, clearly bleeding but looked to be bandaged up recently, an angler lure above his head, and a rather long fish tail as the other half of his body. He matched the description Painter had provided.

He fully turns to him, “Sebastian, I assume? Were you the one who freed me?”

“Maybe,” he doesn’t lower his gun, “I freed a lot of creatures held here, and a lot of them just mindlessly kill everything around them,”

“Fortunately for you, I don’t fall under that category. I refuse to take human life, let alone even try to harm them,”

Sebastian still doesn’t lower his gun until Oberon gently pushes it down with his hand, “A little painter told me that perhaps I should talk to you should I wish to leave this place. I assume you have a plan in mind,”

“So you met Painter, huh? He didn’t tell you what the deal was?”

“Perhaps he believed it to be best if I heard it from you,”

Sebastian sighed, putting the gun away, “Heard they’re trying to retrieve a crystal that’s deep in the facility. Apparently, it’s the main thing powering this entire place,”

“So you need to make sure the crystal isn’t picked up until you manage to find a way out,” Oberon hums, “Very well. I can assist in that,”

“You catch on quick, but you just said you wouldn’t even think of harming other people,”

“I did, but it is rather easy to throw someone off the guided path,” he snaps his finger, then points to the door behind him, “Remind me. What is behind that door?”

Sebastian turns to the door, then looks back at him, “Are you stupid or something? Didn’t you just come from that door?”

“What is behind that door?” Oberon repeats.

“The door leads to the trench tunnels,”

“It leads to a hotel lobby,”

Sebastian scoffs, “Now you’re just being ridiculous. How would a hotel lobby even-?”

As he opened the door that was supposed to lead to the trench tunnels, he was instead greeted by exactly what Oberon had said. Suddenly, he was in a hotel lobby. Oberon stands up and walks into the lobby, lighting up the fireplace. Slowly, Sebastian follows.

“What the f-?”

“I’ve made it so that it at least matches the style of this facility so it is not too out of place,” he cuts him off, “Although, perhaps if I had kept the original look, it’d make people really stop and question where exactly they are,”

“Is this a real place? Those people that were just here. Where did they-?”

He nods, “Not in this room as I pulled this one straight from where it came. Wherever this path leads, I suppose I can say I only hope they tread carefully if they wish to get through. They are not safe from the monsters you’ve released,”

Sebastian gives him a rather irritated look with that statement, one that Oberon ignores. He instead asks, “Did you know those people?”

“No. But I can only assume they’re expendable ranked prisoners. Their lives don’t matter to Urbanshade and are just used as cannon fodder. Seems to me they’re the ones being sent here to get that crystal now,”

Oberon says nothing to that. He should’ve expected such a thing existed.

“You’re leading them to their deaths, you know. That’s still killing them,” Sebastian then continues as he looks down to him, “No matter how you try putting it, them dying here will be your doing,”

Oberon is silent. Although, perhaps that’s not so different to what he normally does anyway. When people meet their end, they are brought to him and he guides them to their final destination wherever it might be. Guiding them to death.

“I still give them the chance to save themself. It’s an opportunity still wide enough for them to keep pushing forward. If I really wanted them dead, I wouldn’t give them places to hide and to retreat to,”

Even when guiding others to their death, he still gives them the option to go back and live just a little longer. This was the same thing, right? He gives them opportunities, chances, a choice. He gives them exactly what they need to keep pushing forward.

Oberon looks up to Sebastian, two stars appearing in his right eye, “You request that the retrieval of the crystal is to be delayed for as long as possible. Well, this is my method. I’m sure the one named Painter has their own methods as well, and whatever that may be, I will not interfere. A human’s will to live and desire for freedom can be extraordinary. I don’t doubt there will be one who will fight through it all and get what they so desire,”

He can see anger beginning to boil up in him as he says that, “What about what I want? Ten fucking years in this hell, and this is my chance for freedom! I had to be put through this shit before I could even think of fighting for my freedom!”

“And I don’t doubt you’ll get what you want soon enough,” Oberon lowered his head, “This is all I am capable of doing, and I apologize I cannot do more for you or Painter,”

“Aren’t you an angel? Wouldn’t the others like you come and get you out of here? Surely they can’t just leave one of their own stuck in a place like this,”

“Even if I could call them here, that wouldn’t be possible. There was a reason why the others didn’t assist the Guardian Angel of the Banlands when the sinners were there. There’s a reason why none of them tried to get them out of here, and there’s a reason why they want my light extinguished,”

Sebastian’s eyes widen a bit at that, “Extinguished? As in dead?”

He nods, “I don’t deny that I am guilty for something I did and that I still do. One rule we angels have is to never interfere with human life, much like their cycle of life. To you, death is the end, but not unless you find me. I can give you the chance to live once again, to start again where you left off. If you refuse the offer however, then I am to resume what I was originally created to do,”

Oberon pauses, then walks over to the next door. The stars in his eyes disappeared as he reached for the handle, “I always thought humans would give anything to cheat death as it was something a lot of you had feared, but… Some of you embrace it like it’s an old friend,”

On the other side was a dark hallway with windows on both sides, showing a red ocean with bones of an unknown creature. This still wasn’t the trench tunnels, and there’s no way they’re on the ocean floor to even see the bones. Either way, he doesn’t recognize those bones just outside the window. Sebastian follows him as they walk down the hall, the crimson color reflecting off of their forms.

“I suppose in a way, death is a beautiful thing,” Oberon continues, “Death is freedom to some. Maybe that’s how some of those prisoners being sent down here feel. They don’t care about the rewards. They just know this is an execution, one they fully embrace,”

He suddenly stops to look at the bones of the creature, “What do you think of it? Is death in this place truly an escape? Is embracing death in a place you would call Hell an escape?”

Sebastian stares at the bones, his eyes narrowing, “It’s the coward’s way out,”

Oberon remains silent. He will never understand humans and their way of thinking, but he loves them all the same.

Alright alright alright I swear this is the last Oberon lore post you’ll see after a while unless it has to do with art.

I’M SORRY, AFTER ACTUALLY THINKING ABOUT HIS LORE, I GOT REALLY INTO IT 😭😭

I’LL GO BACK TO WORKING ON REQUESTS

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐀 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐫'𝐬 𝐄𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞

Time had passed since you last saw the Viking galloping down the trails, and in his absence, your heart grew steadily fonder of the stranger — of his kindness, his softness. Fate, however, knew of this and sent a gift of its own your way, in the form of a proud steed, ridden by your Viking.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ⇁ Viking!Bucky Barnes x Fae!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ⇁ 2.6k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ⇁ Fluff

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ⇁ Full of bonding moments thanks to @sgt-seabass — thank you for the ideas, babe!

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ⇁ Algir — Tognatale by Warduna

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ⇁ @the-slumberparty Week 2 Blast From the Past Challenge — Masterlist

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐤𝐨𝐠𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Cycles and cycles of Sol and Mani passed after the hunter had taken your gift back to his people. You hadn’t seen him travelling or passing through your home, the small creek having ebbed and flowed in size in his absence. Many creatures had flitted about the trail where the Viking’s horse had proudly strode, though none lived up to the majesty of the steed that snorted like an ormslíki.

You knew it was forbidden - speaking to the hunter, the Viking, you risked so much to do so, but like a forbidden fruit, the longer you ignored the curiosity, the more it became unbearable.

The moss on the forest’s floor had grown and become spongy under foot, while ivy and bushes spread and grew to cover fallen trunks of trees, boulders, and stones. A small path was woven amongst the still standing trees that lead to the main trail and you followed it, wandering slowly and carefully amongst the brush and creatures that flocked to follow you. 

It was peaceful. Quiet, hauntingly quiet, when all you wanted to hear was the sound of heavy hoofbeats and proud snorting, and the rich sound of the Viking’s voice. 

Your dress flowed in the breeze as you walked, the hem never catching on brambles and weeds. It had been woven by your mother centuries ago, where magic and cloth could be combined as one - a tradition that had long since passed with the ages. 

The song of your people left you in a soft hum and carried in the slight wind, but by no means had you expected it to reach as far to actually be heard by someone. 

Hoofbeats pounded the earth in the distance and you froze. The animals at your feet scattered at the sound and bolted past the tree line, out of sight. There was no way to distinguish just who it was, and you were too close to the main trail by now to run to safety, towards home. You cursed and ducked behind a fallen limb of a tree - the advantage of being a descendent of Faefolk was that you were small, delicate, you could hide somewhat out of sight while whoever it was passed by. 

However, fate was not so kind. 

“Hey! Hey, I see you!” The voice was loud over the thunderous hoofbeats and proud snorting, the richness of the stranger’s tone familiar… “I thought I would never see you again, little Mouse.”

Mouse? Little Mouse? 

You peered over a knot in the trunk and your eyes widened when they landed upon the stranger and his horse. It was him, the one human that had captured your train of thought and imagination since he had kneeled at your creek. He was back. 

“Hello,” he said softly, smiling down at you in your not-so-hidden hiding place. You met his gaze, then glanced down at the flash of ivory in the sun; an animal’s skull was covering the fastening of leather and buckles for his bear skin cloak. Your gift. “I have been searching for you,” he continued and you looked back up to study his expression - it was open, kind. “Your gift was beautiful and I wanted to thank you–my people thought me mad going on constant hunting trips. I just had to find you.”

“Me?” You squeaked, widening your eyes and shrinking down into the soft, mossy forest floor. 

“Yes, you, little Mouse.” He dismounted swiftly and eyed the trunk with amusement, a slight quirk to his lips. “Why are you hiding?”

“I was s-scared,” you tried, slowly getting to your feet and looking him briefly in the eye. His stare was too intense to hold. 

The Viking frowned slightly, a line forming between his brows. “Your people are not very…”

“No, we are not.” Your tone was instinctually defensive and you winced, not wanting to offend him. Hearing the words from his lips, you feared, would break your heart. It was true, your people had been hunted for sport and taken as thralls for as long as the tales had been written. It had been a miracle, a gift from the gods, that he hadn’t taken you with him when he first saw you all that time ago. He had proven himself to be different to his kinfolk, and you maybe trusted him slightly more than what was safe because of it. 

“Where is your home from here, Mouse?”

You pointed back through the trees towards a mass collection of boulders. “Over there.”

“I brought you a gift,” he continued, grabbing the reins of his horse and stepping closer. “I thought with the change coming so soon, you would need something…”

“Something?” You prompted; brow raised. 

He looked to be considering his words. “I feel uncomfortable, Mouse,” he opted instead and you waited. “I don’t know who you are and yet… I am drawn back to you, and you don’t even know my name, nor do I know yours.” 

The horse snorted and pawed the ground, and you swore if you looked closely, the steed was rolling his eyes in annoyance. It was an effort to suppress the laugh that grew in your chest. Instead, you prompted the Viking again, “No, I do not,” you said, smiling. “But you look like a giant bear.”

Laughter bellowed from the man and he was grinning, shaking his head in mirth. “A bear, you say?” You nodded and stepped over the log, forcing him to step back - you wanted to be closer, to investigate the craftsmanship of his armour, you lied. “Well, my name is Bucky, but you, you adorable little Mouse, can call me Bear–if you so wish.”

“Bucky Bear…”

Bucky just stared at you, his expression flat and unimpressed. “Very funny.”

“I know,” you giggled. “Come,” you said, grabbing his considerably larger hand in yours and offering your name. “Let me take you to my home.”

Both Bucky and his horse followed you through the trees, and you couldn’t hide the quick glances towards the steed. If it were even possible, his coat gleamed like freshly fallen snow under bright sólskin, and black dapples decorated his strong legs and proud face. Bucky seemed to have caught you in the act, however. “What is it, Mouse?”

You glanced up at Bucky and then back to the steed, when Bucky came to a stop. “Your horse,” you began, shuffling closer while the steed turned his head and looked at you, his eyes soft and calm. “What is his name?”

“This is Ragnar,” Bucky said softly. “He has been with me through many battles and carried me home wounded and at the door of Valhalla more times than I can count.”

Tentatively, you reached a hand out for Ragnar to sniff at, but the stallion forwent it and chose to nuzzle into your hand instead, a squeak of shock leaving you before you could master the impulse. 

“Here,” Bucky started, stepping back until he stood behind the saddle. “Hop up.”

“I-I cannot-”

“Yes, you can,” Bucky assured, using the grip he had on your hand to pull you closer. Ragnar seemed to sense your unease and he stood still; a creature carved from stone. “I will help you.”

“Okay,” you whispered, standing next to the stallion and in front of Bucky. You couldn’t even see over the other side of Ragnar’s back. “What if I fall?”

“I will catch you,” Bucky said, incredulous, like it wasn’t obvious. “Now,” Bucky bent down and fitted his hands under your arms–you prayed he wouldn’t feel the hammering of your heart. “I will lift you up, and you just have to swing one leg over. Understood?”

You nodded and Bucky smiled. Air rushed around you as he heaved you up, and you swung a leg over the other side of Ragnar’s back, settling into the saddle with a shaky laugh. “Look at that!” Bucky cried; the pride evident in his voice. “You are a natural already! Hold on now, little Mouse.”

Bucky scratched Ragnar’s cheek and the steed nickered, an unspoken promise that he would not throw you - though you still held onto the saddle for dear life when Ragnar began to walk further into the trees. 

“You can pet him, if you want,” Bucky said, falling in step beside you so his shoulder bumped your knee. “Ragnar would like it.”

“O-Okay,” you stammered. Ragnar’s coat beneath your fingertips was soft like a cloud, and the muscles in his shoulders rippled as he walked ever so slowly and carefully. “He is so soft.”

Bucky grinned up at you, and you smiled back. 

The hill by the boulders proved to be a challenge, and the first few steps that Ragnar took tilted you forward. “Hold on now, Mouse,” Bucky reminded you, careful to stay right beside you while Ragnar navigated the rocks and branches. 

“That’s it, boy,” Bucky said when Ragnar slowed his steps, his shoulders jarring and shifting with the steepness. “Easy now.” 

Bucky’s connection with Ragnar warmed your heart, but a gasp of fear left you when Ragnar stepped too far down and you tipped sideways, only to land in Bucky’s arms. You looked around wildly while Bucky chuckled softly. “I told you I would catch you if you fell, little Mouse.”

“T-Thank you,” you murmured. It was nice to be held, you admitted - even in such circumstances. 

“Do you want to try getting back in the saddle,” Bucky asked, still holding you to his chest. “Or do you want to walk?”

You shut down the thought that you wished he had offered to carry you instead. “I will walk, I think.” 

Bucky nodded and placed you on your feet gently. With you in the lead, the three of you made your way down the steep hillside and towards your creek which flowed freely, lapping at the banks of grass on either side. Ragnar snorted once his feet reached even ground and you wandered over to pat him. “Good boy, Ragnar.”

“Don’t give him an ego, Mouse,” Bucky huffed before jumping down from a boulder. “I will never hear the end of it if you do.”

“How can I give a precious creature such a thing,” you fired back, holding Ragnar’s head in your arms while you stared at Bucky, accusation painted in your furrowed brow and deep frown. “Ragnar does not have a stórlátr bone in his body.”

Bucky scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure, and I’m not a hersir.”

Ignoring Bucky’s feigned annoyance, you ran forward and grabbed his hand once more. He startled but you shushed him, leading him further down the bank where a log rested by a heap of stones; a place where you spent time amongst nature and caring for creatures. “Come, sit.”

The sight made you giggle - Bucky, a literal bear of a man, sat on the log and took up over half of it with his bulk and cloak. “What?”

“Nothing,” you assured, sitting down next to him. Bucky raised a brow as if to question you. “You are just very… big. You are a bear.”

“You’re very funny, Mouse, you know that, right?” Bucky deadpanned. Though the slight curl of his lips in a smirk gave him away.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence while Ragnar wandered about behind you. Eventually, Ragnar finally came to a stop next to you and lowered his head so his cheek brushed your temple. “Hello, boy,” you whispered, offering your hand to pet his muzzle. 

“Ah, I forgot,” Bucky piped up suddenly, moving his cloak to the side to reveal a satchel. “Your gift, I packed it into my bag, I didn’t want it damaged on my journey.” Curious, you watched Bucky release the fastenings and buckles until he paused, looking back up at you. “Are you going to close your eyes, or?”

“Oh,” you rushed, shutting them quickly. “I’m sorry, I thought-”

“Do not apologise, little Mouse,” Bucky interrupted. “I just wanted it to be a surprise.” There were sounds of rustling and suddenly, something soft, fluffy, and heavy was placed in your lap, your hands immediately and instinctively moving to touch and investigate. You weren’t the only one, however. “Ragnar, no, out of it, boy,” Bucky rushed, and you felt Ragnar’s head move from your side, though he remained nearby. “Nosey skitr.”

You laughed softly, still running your hands along the soft bundle in your lap. “Open your eyes, Mouse,” Bucky said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. 

Bright daylight blinded you for a second until you focused on Bucky’s face, his expression happy, eager almost, and then you looked down at your lap to find a wolf’s pelt, as white as Ragnar, tightly furled. “Oh, my- Bucky-”

“To keep you warm,” Bucky explained, shuffling closer to you and opening the fur so it could drape over your lap. “I hunted the beast myself; I knew when I laid eyes upon the wolf it would be perfect.”

You looked up at Bucky, eyes wide and glassy; no one had ever given you such a thoughtful gift before. Your heart was so full it was fit to burst, and an outpour of adoration manifested before you could stop it. 

Bucky was knocked back with the force of your hug and he let out an, “oof!” of surprise. Your arms were tight around his shoulders and you buried your face into the crook of his neck, where intricate stories were inked into his skin. Your legs straddled his thigh, and you squeaked in surprise when Bucky moved you so he could gain his balance again, now sitting upright and holding you to his chest. 

“I take it you like my gift, little Mouse?” Bucky said, his voice rumbling in his chest. 

You nodded fervently, and pulled back to face him. Never before had you been so close to another person, a human, and the beauty of his face struck you. His eyes were even clearer up close, he had faint scars and freckles dotted along his skin, and his hair–you had thought it was black, but it was a dark brown. The urge to touch and run your hand through it reared its head, and you didn’t resist. 

Bucky’s breath hitched, and he smirked. “Mouse? Did you like it?”

Your eyes roved from his hair to meet his gaze, and you smiled softly. “Yes, I love it,” you said quietly, before moving forward to kiss Bucky on the cheek. “Thank you, my Bear.”

Not one to tolerate being left out, Ragnar snorted and pushed his face into your shoulder, making you cackle and Bucky groan. “Streð mik, get out of it, you skitr!”

You made to move when Ragnar sidled off with a definite pout,  but Bucky held you tight around your waist, unyielding and unwilling to let go. “No, no, please,” he whispered, moving one hand to his cloak and draping it around you. “Stay with me a while longer.”

In lieu of speaking and saying how much you had wanted this, you shifted and cuddled into his chest, your forehead resting in the crook of his neck. 

After a while, you spoke up quietly, afraid to shatter the illusion–it was hard to believe that it wasn’t a dream. “I am glad you found me again, Bear.” 

Bucky’s chest rumbled with a soft chuckle and his grip around you tightened minutely. A sudden pressure atop your head made you gasp sharply in surprise. “‘S just me,” Bucky soothed, rubbing a hand up and down your spine. The weight of his cheek on your head settled and you calmed, entirely wrapped in his warmth; the furs and armour were nothing to the heat his body warmed you with. 

“Me too, little Mouse,” Bucky whispered. “Me too.”

Ormslíki = Dragon Sólskin = Sunshine Stórlátr = Arrogant Skitr = Shit Streð mik = Fuck me

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[milflewis]

22 + chalex for the prompt thing! 🫶🏻

22. hug

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 1: So. I am fucked. Surprise though! So you can stop all the tears — talking about you, Commander, the softy that you are - I am alive.]

—

Two weeks after NASA has declared Alex Albon dead and left on Mars, Charles writes to George. He sends it to Sebastian and makes him swear to get it to Lewis in the crew’s next info dump, who will give it to George.

He tells him about how Alex’s plants are doing, and about his shifts at the hospital, how he’s on night work now, with the shifts rotating over. He tells him about going to the beach and just standing there for hours, staring out at the water, until he could no longer feel his face from the cold. He tells that he’s more or less sleeping, that he’s going to work, that he’s eating. He tells him that he hopes they’re keeping safe and that he loves him.

He doesn’t talk about Alex. He doesn’t tell George he doesn’t blame him. He knows he’ll know. That he won’t need Charles to write the words.

—

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 2: I think I've got this actually. Ignore yesterday. Getting stranded on Mars kinda messes with your head. I've got a plan and I'm feeling good about it! ]

—

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 2: Update. I do not got this. If I die, Charles, I demand a mourning period of at least eighty-three years. Please bury me under some nice flowers. Blue if you can.]

—

“Come back to me,” Charles says, arms tight around Alex’s neck, mouth pressed under his ear. He smells of shampoo and asphalt. His bony elbows are digging into Charles’s back.

“I’m going to make Mars my bitch,” Alex says, grinning, and Charles shoves him away with a laugh.

Alex catches his wrist with a warm hand. His palm is dry and calloused. “Charlie,” he starts, low and careful. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“Yeah.” Charles’s voice cracks. He tries again. “Yes, I know, of course, of course. Me too.”

Alex smiles, and it’s wonderful. Charles memorises the shape of it.

Down the line, with his back to the hoard of cameras, Commander Lewis Hamilton is pressing his mouth against his husband’s knuckles. Both of their eyes are closed.

—

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 54]: Did you know that if you grow something somewhere that you've then colonised it? So, like, now that I've got my potatoes going does that mean I now own Mars? A win for the gays and the losers, motherfuckers!]

—

Toto swivels in his chair and looks out of the window to the sky beyond. Night is slipping in.

"What is it like?" he wonders. “Stuck up there. Alone. He does not know we know. What does that do?"

He looks at Niki. "I wonder what he is thinking right now."

—

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 61: How come Aquaman can control whales. They're mammals! Makes no sense.]

—

Some days, when he hasn’t had much sleep and the air warps and curls over on itself with heat, he sees Charles.

He’ll only ever be far off in the distance — too far for Alex to even see the details of his face, let alone touch him. He’d know the shape of those shoulders anywhere.

Alex waves to him sometimes. This dark blur on the horizon that just stands there and watches. He never waves back. The sun on Mars is unforgiving.

Alex wonders if he’s moisturising his hands. The latex exam gloves he has to wear for work always dry out his skin.

—

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 76: I'm going to have to science the shit out of this. George, please don't use this as porn. I know how hot and bothered you get about me being all smart and sexy.]

—

George has, like, every sitcom ever downloaded in his personal storage. Alex works his way through them all. If he never hears another laugh track in his life he’d die happy.

Lewis’s music list is jam packed full of different genres. There is a surprising amount of The Beatles in there. Alex wouldn’t have guessed he was a fan of them.

Alex decides the music Lewis had made himself, all chords and notes and little words, is some of his favourites. It can be hard hearing other people speak at you and not being able to talk back.

Every book Valtteri had downloaded is in Finnish. Alex thinks he probably should’ve guessed that would be the case.

It turns out Finnish is very hard to learn, especially when the only words you’ve picked up are swears that you’ve heard Valtteri muttering under his breath before media duties.

—

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 206: Finally got into contact with NASA because I am that bitch and I will be damned if I die here, and that is a promise. They won’t stop telling me what to do now though, so, like, it’s a give and take, I guess.]

—

The first thing Charles notices about Alex is that he has freckles all over his face but especially across his nose and cheeks. This feels very important.

The second thing he notices is that he is tall and his wrists are bony. Charles eyes the strip of skin where his MATHS IS SEXY top rides up. There is an equally tall man sitting in the booth beside him with a shirt that reads: NO ITS NOT.

The third thing he notices is that he is extremely drunk. His cheeks are flushed and he’s half falling over the table as he tries to explain something while laughing.

Charles probably falls in love right there if he’s being honest, even if he never gets the courage to go up and talk to him. Alex is the one who says hi, weeks later, asking him if he wants to play pool.

Charles doesn’t know how to play pool. He says yes anyway because he thinks it might make Alex smile. It does.

He keeps saying yes and Alex keeps smiling. They move together after college graduation.

Charles is coming off a double shift and he can’t feel his feet when Sebastian shows up to give him a ride home. He makes him tea when they get in. It’s a blend of something herbal and sweet like honey.

Sebastian tells him Alex is still alive as Charles breathes in the steam. He tells him that they left him behind on Mars. That it was an accident. That they’re figuring out how to get him home.

Alex is alive, Charles thinks. I’ll get to see Alex smile again, Charles thinks, and promptly bursts into tears.

—

[08:47] BUTTON: Good, keep us posted on any mechanical or electrical problems. By the way, the name of the probe we're sending you is Iris. You know, the one who rode the waves of heaven using the wind. I think she's also the chick with the rainbows.

[08:49] ALBON: Gay probe coming to save me. Got it.

—

I’m so glad it’s not me stuck up there, the navigational assistant tells him. He was the one who discovered Alex was still alive in the first place. He tells him he noticed the MAV moving. His name is Yuki.

Alex thinks he’s going to say he’d miss people or fresh fruit or Netflix or sex or something. Alex hasn’t had a mango in so long. He hasn’t had a blowjob in even longer. Some days he isn’t sure which is worse.

Yuki is very very funny.

Can you imagine only eating potatoes, he tells Alex. I would rather die dead and alone. And then: though I guess you would not have to imagine.

And then: the eating potatoes bit. sorry. you haven’t done the other one yet.

Alex laughs so much he rebreaks a only barely healed rib and NASA yells at them both. His calcium levels are very low.

—

[21:27] BUTTON: How are the crops affecting that number? As to your question: We haven't told the crew you're alive yet. We wanted them to concentrate on their own mission.

[21:30] ALBON: The crops are potatoes. I got them from the ones we were supposed to eat for Christmas. They're doing great but the available farmland isn't sustainable. I'll run out of food around SOL 900. Also. Fucking tell the crew I'm alive???? What the fuck is wrong with you????

[21:31] BUTTON: SOL 900 is great news. That'll give us time to get a supply mission to you. And I’ve been told to tell you to watch your language. Everything you type is being broadcasted around the world.

[21:32] ALBON: Look! A pair of boobs - > ( . Y . )

—

Dear Alex: Apparently, NASA is letting us talk to you now. And I drew the short straw. Sorry we left you behind on Mars.

But we just don't like you. You're sort of annoying. And you shed hair everywhere.

Also, it's a lot roomier on the Hermes without you. We have to take turns doing your tasks. But, I mean, it's only botany. It's not a real science.

How's Mars?

— George.

—

Alex stares up at the plain white ceiling of the HAB. The wind roars and rages outside and the Level Threw sandstorm shakes the walls. It holds. It always holds.

When he makes the journey to find the HAB of the HERMES TWO, he’ll be technically crossing international waters without any explicit permission from a governmental body. That makes him a pirate.

I’m going home, Alex thinks. And then: I can’t wait to tell Charlie that he’s married to a bad boy.

Alex runs a hand over his face. He’s even gotten the beard to go with it.

—

Dear George: Mars is fine. When I get lonely I think of that steamy night I spent with your mum.

How are things on Hermes? Cramped and claustrophobic? Yesterday I went outside and looked at the horizons. They really do go on forever.

— Alex.

—

"Thing is," Alex scrambles to say, mouth dry and sore. "I'm selfish. I want all the memorials back home to be just about me. I don't want the rest of you losers in any of them. I can't let you guys blow the VAL. Also, I'm the only one who is allowed to make Charlie cry. Them's the rules."

"Oh," Lewis says. "Well, I mean, if you won't let us — wait. Wait a minute, I think I see something on my shoulder patch here. Oh, right, yeah, it says I'm the Commander. So, you know, what I say goes. Shut the fuck up and sit tight. We're coming to get you."

Alex swallows — or tries to at least. His whole body aches. He thinks he broke a rib, or two. Or three. He wants to cry.

"Copy that, sir."

"We've got you, man." Lewis's voice is warm. Alex doesn't have to imagine his smile anymore. He's going to get to see it very soon.

—

Alex is all bone and mouth when Charles gets to see him again. He has lost so many of his freckles. He hugs him close, pressing his thumbs into the hinge of Alex's jaw. Alex bows and curls over him and Charles doesn't let either of them fall.

He tastes vaguely of salt and snot when Charles kisses him. Charles is crying.

Alex is smiling when he pulls away, arms tight around Charles' back. "Look at your face," he says softly. He's talking to himself.

"I'm here," Charles replies, louder than necessary. Alex blinks at him and his smile, impossibly, gets even bigger. Charles's stomach squirms.

"You're a mess," Alex teases him, running a hand through Charles' hair. Charles doesn't say anything about how his hands shake.

“You should stay here and take care of me then,” Charles says, and Alex closes his eyes, smushing his nose hard into the skull of Charles’s forehead. Charles digs his nails in.

Fuck you, Mars, Charles. Fuck you.

[gavisimmaculaterizz]

hii i hope you’re doing well. whenever you get back could you write about richard rios? like he’s mad about the copa america game against argentina and during halftime he leaves the game and sees the reader outside and she makes him better.

sol de mis nubes // richard ríos

summary: during a tough game against their biggest rivals, richard seeks to find his sol.

warnings: none, fluff

(not proofread yet!)

masterlist

the smell of freshly cut grass filled the air as your boyfriend richard, the star football player, sprinted across the field. it was a scent that was almost as familiar to him as the sound of the cheering crowd. each blade was a reminder of the endless hours he'd spent practicing, dreaming of moments like this, to be in the copa america final.

the bright lights of the stadium cast stark shadows on the players' faces, highlighting their determination. the roar of the fans was a symphony to his ears, a cacophony of hope and excitement that propelled him forward. this was the kind of night he lived for—the kind that could define his career.

but the score wasn't in their favor.

argentina was ahead, and the pressure was mounting. he couldn’t take his mind on the time.

five more minutes richard, five more until you can leave this pitch and seek peace..

is what he said. he prayed to find an end to this match. though there was still much time to tie up the game, his anger and frustration began to take over his body.

he couldn’t believe it, 44 minutes in and they’re already losing this important final.

suddenly his thoughts were immediately interrupted when the first half whistle blew.

“muchachos, apurémonos al vestuario inmediatamente!” yelled the coach néstor lorenzo. (boys let's hurry on to the locker room immediately)

richard immediately sprinted to the locker room, ignoring his name being called in the stands. pissed and frustrated, he felt like he needed to find peace, find someone..

you..

you were in the stands, watching all of this go down. once you saw argentina score, your heart shattered. you know it was over for richard, his face said it all.

you wanted to tell him it was okay, to console him, but he seemed frustrated, like he was going to snap any minute.

as richard entered the locker room, he looked for his phone, immediately opening his messages and looking for your contact.

y/n please come outside the locker room, i need you.

you quickly opened his message, worried about your stunning boyfriend..

on my way, amor.

as soon as you hit send you sat up from your seat, finding the exit towards the locker rooms.

“excuse me, excuse me.” you said as you ran into people, desperate to console your boyfriend who needed you.

once you got closer to the locker rooms, you spotted him, looking more hurt than ever.

“amor!” you yelled to get his attention.

he quickly looked up to where the voice was heard, but when he looked up, he met your eyes.

he began to tear up, tears threatening to spill out of his gorgeous coffee colored eyes.

you ran into him, giving him a tight hug, not letting go.

“don’t worry baby, it’ll all be fine.” you whispered to him, as you began hearing small sniffles from him.

it hurt you to see him like this, to see him broken. you knew there was plenty of time to still tie up and secure the trophy, but poor richard, it was taking a toll on him.

after a few minutes, richard began to calm down. after fixing his breathing he spoke up.

“gracias mi vida. te quiero mucho.” (thank you my love, i love you so much)

you looked up at him, smiling softly listening to his words.

“de nada. you know i love you and ill always be here for you no matter what..” you whispered to him.

“eres el sol de mis nubes, te amo” he said as he engulfed you in a hug, not letting you go at all. (you are the sun to my clouds, love you)

suddenly , you felt a presence behind him..

“richard, the coach is calling for you! stop being so romantic!” luis said laughing as he interrupted your romantic moment..

“voy!!” richard replied laughing.

“bueno, me voy, pero te amo mucho. gracias por estar conmigo siempre.” richard said while letting go of the long hug. (well, im leaving, but i love you very much. thank you for always being there for me)

“okay, bye amor.” you replied to him as you began to turn around to leave.

“but before i leave-” you said as you looked at him..

“yes?” he replied, confused. suddenly he felt your lips on his cheek, leaving a lipstick stain prominent on his face..

a/n: im so sorry i’ve been hiatus 🥹! i’ve been super busy lately getting myself situated and i’ve had little time to focus on my blog so i hope i can get the ball rolling! also im sorry if there’s any mistakes or if it seems bad, i haven’t written in awhile and i feel like it’s terrible 😓

[ltash]

The Tundra

Part-2 "SimonGhostRileyxf!"Ella"reader

Part 1 link..

Approx 7k words

Warning: angst

A day passed and Ghost woke up in the safehouse. His head still throbbing in pain. The memories of what happened came rushing back to him. He remembered the attack, the konni soldiers, and her.

He sat up, a wave of anxiety washing over him. He had to find her. He couldn't lose her.

Ghost stood up, still weak from the hit to his head. He grabbed his rifle and his vest. He knew he was injured, but he couldn't let that hold him back.

He had to find her. He had to rescue her.

Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to go after her. To find her and bring her back home.

Ghost left the safehouse and stepped out into the cold. The snow was falling heavily and the wind was howling. The terrain was treacherous, but he didn't care.

He followed their tracks in the snow, his heart pounding in his chest. The uncertainty of not knowing where she was, not knowing if she was alive, was tormenting him.

The journey was difficult and dangerous. Ghost's head was still hurting, and he had to fight off the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him.

But he pushed onward, determined to find her. He would go through hell and back to find her.

The tracks finally led him to a small cabin in the woods. It was isolated and hidden, a perfect place for someone to hide.

Ghost approached the cabin carefully, his rifle at the ready. He had no idea what he would find inside, but he was prepared for anything.

Ghost burst through the door, expecting a fight. But the cabin was eerily silent.

He looked around, searching for any sign of her. But the cabin was completely deserted. There was no sign of her anywhere.

Ghost felt a wave of frustration and despair wash over him. The cabin was a dead end. He had no idea where she could be now.

He walked deeper into the cabin, searching for any clue or clue that could lead him to her. But there was nothing.

He cursed inwardly, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. He was no closer to finding her than he was before. She could be anywhere.

He sat down on a dusty chair, running a hand through his hair. He was exhausted and frustrated.

He looked around the cabin, searching for anything that could help him. But there was nothing. The cabin was empty, devoid of any clues or clues as to where she could be.

He slammed his fist against the wall in frustration, ignoring the pain that shot through his knuckles.

His mind went back to that moment. The way he had grabbed her arm, the way she had fallen into his lap. It was all coming back to him.

He closed his eyes, reliving the moment over and over again. He could still feel the softness of her skin under his fingers, the way her body had fit against his.

But now she was gone. Konnis took her away. His heart was sinking thinking about what they can do to her. She would be alone, scared.

The thought of her alone and scared made his chest ache. He couldn't bear the thought of her being in pain or danger. He knew what the Konni did to their prisoners, and the thought of her going through that was too much to bear.

Suddenly Pric's voice came through the static. "Ghost! Do you copy?"

Ghost's head snapped up as he heard Price's voice come through the com link. He quickly grabbed the comm, relieved to hear his CO's voice.

"Price, this is Ghost. I read you."

"Where have you been Ghost. It's been a day I am trying to contact you and Ella through the comms. And you weren't even replying." Captain Price huffed annoyingly.

Ghost cringed inwardly, realizing he had left his comm off for an entire day.

"Sorry, sir. I didn't realize I'd turned off the comm." he replied, sheepishly. "I was... dealing with something."

"Where is Ella?"

Ghost's heart skipped a beat at the mention of her name.

"I... lost her, sir." he said, his voice hoarse. "The Konni soldiers attacked our safehouse and took her. I've been tracking her but I lost her trail a few hours ago."

There was a moment of silence on the line, and Ghost could practically feel Price's disappointment and frustration through the comm.

"Dammit, Ghost. How could you lose her?" Price snapped, his annoyance evident.

Ghost bristled at the criticism in Price's voice. He knew he had messed up, but it still stung to hear it from his CO.

"I didn't have a choice, sir." he said gruffly. "The attack was sudden and I was injured. By the time I regained consciousness, she was already gone."

"I am sending an evac. You need to come back Ghost. You aren't in a comdition to find her alone. We'll figure a way out to find her." Captain Price said.

Ghost knew he was right. He was in no condition to keep searching alone. The injury to his head was still bothering him, and he was exhausted.

"Roger that, sir." Ghost replied, grudgingly. "I'll be awaiting the evac."

He sat back down in the dusty chair, his mind still on her. He felt a sense of helplessness, being unable to find her on his own. He knew Price was right, and he had to come back to base.

The evac arrived with the medics. Ghost climbed back the helo. His heart heavy in his chest. He didn't want to leave her there on their mercy but he had no chance of fighting them alone.

He sat in the back of the helo, his head down. The medics were fussing over him, checking his injury and giving him a quick once-over. He barely noticed them, his thoughts still on her.

"We'll find her, Ghost." one of the medics said, as if reading his mind. "Don't worry, mate. She'll be okay."

Ghost nodded, appreciating the sentiment but knowing it was just empty words. He knew the Konni. He knew what they were capable of.

He tried to push the thoughts out of his head. He needed to focus on getting back to base and getting himself together.

The helo reached the base after what felt like an eternity. Ghost climbed out. Captain Price already waiting for him.

"I lost her boss. I let her down."

Price clapped a hand on his shoulder, his voice filled with empathy.

"You did your best, Ghost. You can't beat yourself up over it. We'll find her, I promise you that."

After three days of torture and torment Ella was released. They basically threw her outside, releasing her in the merciless icy tundra.

Ella stumbled as she was released, her legs weak and shaking. The cold air bit at her exposed skin as she fell to her knees in the snow.

She was exhausted, cold, and weak. But more than that, she was alone.

Her clothes were ripped. Bite marks, bruises what not covered her body. Weakly she stood trying to gather all her strength as she tried to notice the direction she was in so that she could make her way back to the safehouse.

She staggered forward, her body trembling from the cold. Her teeth chattered and her body ached with each movement.

But she forced herself to keep going, determined to find her way back to safety. She looked around, trying to get her bearings. She remembered the direction of the safehouse vaguely.

She stumbled forward, her legs weak and her mind fogged from the pain and exhaustion.

She walked for what felt like hours, her body and mind both screaming for respite. The cold and snow made progress slow and perilous.

Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, her mind still reeling from the trauma of the ordeal. She focused on putting one foot in front of the other, trying to ignore the stinging cold and the pain that coursed through her body.

She stumbled and fell multiple times, the cold sapping what little strength she had left. But each time, she forced herself back up, gritting her teeth and pushing forward.

She had to keep going. She couldn't give up. She had to find the safehouse, find Ghost, find safety. She forced herself to keep moving, her mind on autopilot.

It felt like an eternity, but finally, she saw something in the distance. A small building, surrounded by snow and ice. A flicker of hope went through her as she recognized it.

The safehouse. She was almost there.

She stumbled forward, moving towards the safehouse with renewed vigor. The building looked cold and empty, and part of her wondered if she would be alone. But she pushed that thought away, she didn't have the strength to think about that now.

She reached the door, her hand shaking as she grasped the handle.

She pulled the handle, the door opening easily. She stumbled inside, the welcome wave of warmth hitting her as she leaned against the wall.

The safehouse was as empty and abandoned as expected. But she didn't care, she had made it. She was safe, for now.

She collapsed onto the floor, her body giving out once she was inside. Her breathing was ragged and labored. Her mind was a fog of exhaustion and trauma.

She felt battered and broken, both physically and emotionally. But she was alive, and for now, that was all that mattered.

She lay there, her eyes closed as she tried to catch her breath. The memories of the torture came back to her, the pain and fear threatening to overwhelm her.

She tried to push them away, forcing her mind to think of something else. But it was hard, the terror and trauma had dug itself deep into her psyche. She felt alone and vulnerable.

She tried to sit up, her body protesting with every movement. She stumbled to the bathroom, leaning against the sink as she looked in the mirror.

Her reflection stared back at her, and it was a sight to behold. Her body was bruised and covered in bite marks and scratches. Her clothes were torn and ragged. Her hair, now matted and unkempt, hung limply around her face.

Her face... her once smooth skin was now littered with scrapes and cuts. Her eyes, once bright and full of life, were now dark and tired. She barely recognized the person looking back at her.

She splashed cold water on her face, trying to clear her head. She needed to clean herself up, but her body was too weak to even stand for long.

She staggered back out into the main room, her legs threatening to give out again. She needed rest, more than anything else.

She stumbled towards the bedroom, each step feeling like torture to her battered body. She collapsed onto the bed, her body so tired she could barely move.

She closed her eyes, letting the exhaustion take over. She knew she should eat, but she had no strength to find food. She just wanted to sleep, to forget the horror she had just endured.

The silence of the room was deafening, only interrupted by her ragged breathing. The cold and the quiet of the room were almost overwhelming.

She shivered uncontrollably, her body still cold from being outside for so long. She drew the blankets around her, trying to find some warmth.

But sleep evading her. Every time she closed her eyes, the memories of the torture come back. The pain, the fear, the helplessness.

She tossed and turned, unable to find any comfort. Her body was exhausted, but her mind refused to calm down.

She lay there, her mind racing. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, a mix of fear, anger, and confusion. She couldn't make sense of what had happened to her. How could she have been captured, tortured like that?

She thought of Ghost, of the team. Were they looking for her? Did they know where she was? Did they even know she was alive?

She had no way of knowing, and the uncertainty was killing her. She closed her eyes again, trying to force sleep.

Finally she slept, but she was restless all the night. The next morning she woke up and tried to find something to eat. A small radio communication syatem got her attention. She immediately ran and turned it on trying to get all stations to hear her.

The small radio communication system crackled to life, the static filling the silence of the safehouse. She adjusted the frequency, trying to tune into something, anything.

Her heart was pounding, her mind focused on a single goal: to contact the Task Force.

"Ella! Ella!" She called her name in the radio. She couldn't speak further. Suddenly "Captain Price's voice boomed in the radio. "Captain Ella! Are you there. Ella! Tell us your location. We are coming to get you." He said.

Her heart leapt as she heard his voice. The familiar sound of Price's voice over the static filled her with hope. She didn't think she would hear their voices again.

Her hands were shaking as she picked up the microphone. "Price, it's me. I'm... I'm in the safehouse." she said, her voice hoarse.

She gave them her location, her voice shaky but firm. The relief she felt was overwhelming. She had been alone, and now she wasn't. The Task Force was coming for her. She leaned back, the microphone still in her hand, waiting for a response.

"We're on our way." Price's voice came through again, crisp and clear through the static. "Hold on, we'll be there. Just hang on."

"I'm waiting." She said and turned off the radio. It was an 8 hour journey. After a long wait finally she spotted the helicopter, she ran towards the door. The helicopter landed and Captain Price and Soap came out.

Soap was the first one who approached her. His usual cheerful face turned pale at the sight of her bruised and battered form. "Bloody hell, lass." he said, his voice filled with concern.

She smiled weakly at his words, grateful to see his familiar face. But she was more focused on Price, who had quietly approached her, his eyes scanning her body, taking in all the bruises and cuts.

Ella had tears in her eyes, she was trying hard to suppress her emotions.

"They destroyed me." She just uttered these words when he approached.

Price's face hardened at her words, his eyes darkening with anger. "We'll make them pay." he assured her, his voice hard.

He reached out a hand, gently touching her bruised cheek. "But first, we need to get you back to base. Can you walk?"

"Where is Simon?" She asked.

Price's face hardened at the mention of Ghost. "He's back at base." he said gruffly, avoiding looking directly at her. "We'll talk about that later. Right now, we need to get you checked by medical. You look..." he trailed off, his eyes running over her body again.

She started walking slowly towards the Helo. Soap helped her inside. Inside the medics started to tend to her wounds.

"I-I think I am losing my speech." She told a medic. "They tortured me and hit me on the head many..." she stopped.

The medics exchanged glances, her words confirming their worst fears.

"We'll check for a concussion," one of them said. His voice was gentle, but there was a seriousness in his tone. "You've suffered a lot of trauma, both physically and emotionally. Rest and recovery are necessary."

They made her lay down on the stretcher and she slept. Finally! At peace. When the helo arrived. She sat up gently.

The base loomed large in front of her as the helicopter landed. The familiar sight of it gave her a feeling of relief, a sense of safety.

The medics helped her out of the helo and led her towards the medical wing. Price and Soap followed behind, their faces serious as they escorted her.

"Ella!" She heard the familiar voice. A voice she could recognize in millions. She saw him. Simon was looking at her. Her eyes met his. He approached her in long strides. "Simon!" She called him weakly.

Simon felt his heart constrict as he saw her. Her face was battered and bruised, her body thin and weak.

But it was her. She was alive.

He wanted to pull her into a tight embrace, to hold her close and never let go. But the medical team was bustling around, the familiar presence of Price and Soap nearby.

He settled for gripping her hand as they approached together.

She was silent throughout the way. She couldn't walk properly. But she still walked despite her injuries. He took her to the medical bay and doctors took her in to run some tests.

Simon, Soap, and Price waited outside while the doctors ran their tests. The silence between them was thick, each lost in their own thoughts.

Simon's mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Anger, guilt, relief, all mixed into a mess of conflicting thoughts. He felt responsible for what had happened to her. He should have been there to protect her.

After 2 hours they came out. She was already shifted to a hospital room.

The doctor called them into his office.

"I don't know how to tell you this. But..." he tried to find the words.

The worry on each of their faces deepened. The doctor's hesitant demeanor did nothing to dispel the tension in the room.

"Just speak plainly, doc." Price's voice was hard, a hint of impatience in his tone.

"We examined her thoroughly, she went through a lot of abuse. Sexual abuse to be precise. And she is developing dysnomia too due to the head trauma she endured. She has difficulty speaking. Thankfully it's not complete aphasia." The doctor explained.

The news hit them like a punch to the gut.

Simon, who had been leaning casually against the wall, suddenly stood straight, his hand clenching into a fist.

Soap's face paled, his cheerful demeanor replaced with deep concern.

Price, who'd been quietly listening, closed his eyes for a moment, the anger radiating off him in waves.

"Sexual abuse is not only physical but it emotional. She is likely to have ptsd because of that but we will try our best to provide her psychological support for that. As for speech difficulty she is going to lose it for a while but she will come out of it eventually." The doctor explained.

Price nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. His mind was already running through the possible repercussions of this.

Simon hadn't said a word, but the anger in his eyes spoke volumes. His mind was a swirling vortex of dark thoughts, plans for retribution.

Soap looked devastated. "Bloody hell," he muttered, his usual cheery attitude gone. "Can we see her?"

"Sure. It's the second room." He hestured towards the room.

They all nodded in thanks and walked towards the room in silence.

Simon was the first to reach the door, his hand gripping the handle.

He took a moment, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open.

Her eyes were the first he saw. Like she was anticipating him. She was silent.

His heart ached as he saw her there. She was so small under the hospital gown, her body fragile and battered.

For a moment, he couldn't find the words to say. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to express, but he found himself speechless.

"Ella." Her name came out in a whisper, his voice raw with emotion.

"Simon." She whispered. "They-they destroyed." She could only utter this.

The sound of her voice, weak and small, hit him like a punch to the gut. He stepped closer to her bedside, his hands desperately wanting to reach out and touch her, to reassure himself that she was really here.

"I know, love." he said, his voice gentle. "But you're safe now. We've got you. You're safe."

"The-they, threw me out, snow." Her speech difficulty was prominant.

He watched her struggling to speak, the difficulty and strain evident on her face.

"You were left out in the snow?" His voice was calm, but the anger in his gut threatened to spill.

She just nodded. Warm tears spilled her eyes.

The sight of her tears broke him. He couldn't stand to see her cry.

He wanted to be strong, to be the rock she could lean on, but at that moment he felt like his own heart was shattering.

He sat on the edge of her bed, his body careful not to jolt her. He reached out and gently wiped away the tears on her cheeks.

"I dunno how.. alive." She uttered.

He understood her words perfectly, despite her speech difficulty. He took her hand, holding it gently in his.

"You made it, love," he said, his voice a whisper. "You made it through hell. You're here. Alive. Safe."

As time passed, she became silent and silent. She stopped talking to everyone. She wasn't the fiesty Captain Ella who handed the sniper like a pro anymore, who used to get on his nerves. She was silent and used to stare in the empty space. She was avoiding everyone.

She still used to train with her gun, but people on the base forgot her voice or how she spoke.

Simon noticed the change in her. The vibrancy, the fire that he'd admired and loved in her, was gone. In its place was a quietness, an emptiness. It wasn't like her at all.

He found himself drawn to her, watching her from a distance as she trained alone in the gun range. He ached to talk to her, to say something, anything, but he didn't know how.

Simon felt a pang of hurt every time she turned away from him. He could see the struggle she was going through, but he didn't know how to reach her. He felt helpless, which only served to anger him more.

He watched from afar as Johnny tried to talk to her in the chow hall, only to be met with silence. It was a cruel irony, seeing her being so distant when once she was the life of the room.

One day, she was sitting in the base park. Wearing a silk slip dress. A delicate shawl adorning her shoulders. She was a paragon of beauty and grace. She had seeds in her hand, which she was feeding to the wild pigeons. Her sad face had so many stories written on it.

Simon was walking across the base when he spotted her sitting in the park. From a distance, she looked like a vision, a beautiful mirage in the midst of the harsh reality of their world.

He watched her for a moment, taking in her delicate form, the way the silky fabric of her dress draped over her curves. She looked like a doll, brittle and beautiful. The sight of her feeding the birds, the sadness on her face, tugged at something deep inside him.

A song was playing on her phone kept beside her. Tears fell from her silent eyes.

He was standing close enough now to hear the soft music coming from her phone.

He felt a pang in his chest at the sight of her tears. He wanted to reach out, to comfort her, to take away whatever was causing her pain. He wanted to hear her voice, her laugh.

"Baby, we tried to fight it,

We've been there some days,

Thought I needed something else,

And acting like I was okay."

He listened to the lyrics of the song. They spoke of heartache, of broken promises and longing. It mirrored the feeling in his own heart. He took a couple of steps closer to her, his body itching to be closer to her.

"We just had to work it out,

But baby, I needed space,

Ain't nobody round here wrong,

You love all yours so far away."

The words hit home. Space. Was that what she needed? Is that why she was withdrawing from him, from everyone?

He was standing just a few feet away now, but it felt like miles. He was torn between respect for her space and his desperate need to be near her.

"You're pouring your heart out,

I'm acting like I knew,

You held me so down,

So down I never grew."

His hands clenched into fists as he listened to the lyrics. The words were like a dagger, cutting through the barriers he'd put up to protect himself.

She was right.

He had been holding her down, expecting her to be strong, fearless. But that wasn't fair to her, was it? She was the brightest light in the darkness, and he had tried to keep her caged.

"I tried to find out,

When none of them came through,

And now I'm stuck in the middle,

And baby had to pull me out."

The song was hitting too close to home now. The lyrics described exactly how he felt. He was stuck in the middle, caught between his duties and his feelings for her. And he had pushed her away, expecting her to understand, without considering her own pain and struggles.

"I can't sleep no more,

In my head, we belong,

And I can't be without you,

Why can't I find no one like you?"

The words echoed in his head, a constant reminder of his own foolishness.

"I can't be without you... why can't I find no one like you?"

He took a step closer, unable to keep away from her any longer. He had to make things right, to show her how much he needed her.

She stopped the music and threw all the seeds at once, the pigeons all gathered in front of her for their share. Then she laughed lightly, looking at them. She laughed until her laughter turned into crying. She broke into tears, grabbing the edge of the bench until her knuckles turned white.

His heart ached at the sight of her laughing and then crying. He couldn't stand to see her so sad, so broken.

He walked closer, closing the distance between them. He could no longer keep away. He needed to be near her, to comfort her.

He sat down next to her on the bench, careful not to startle her. He ached to reach out, to pull her into his arms and hold her, but he held back, unsure if she would welcome his touch.

She looked at him. Her face was red and wet with tears. Soft hiccups escaped her lips.

He met her gaze, the pain and sadness in her eyes stabbing at his soul.

"Ella..." he said softly, the name sounding like a prayer on his lips.

He wanted to reach out, to touch her, to wipe away the tears, but he didn't want to upset her further. Instead, he kept his hands firmly on his lap, his body taut with restraint.

She looked away again. Turning her back on him.

Her body turning away from him felt like a blow to the gut.

His hand twitched, fingers itching to reach out and turn her back towards him. But he held back. He couldn't force her to face him if she didn't want to. It was like a battle within himself - needing to be close to her vs. respecting her wishes.

He sat there in excruciating silence, his heart aching with every thump. He could only watch her back, the silk material of her dress swaying gently in the breeze.

He ached to talk to her, to ask her what she was thinking, what was going through her mind. But he didn't want to push her, to make her uncomfortable.

So he sat there, a silent guardian, watching over her as she wept silently.

"Si-Si," she tried to say..

When she spoke, his heart skipped a beat. It was the first sound she'd made towards him since that fateful night. 

He listened intently, hanging onto her words like a lifeline.

"Simon!" She turned around to face him.

When she turned to face him, he nearly stopped breathing. Her face, still tear-streaked, was a vision of vulnerability and strength.

He watched her, waiting for her to continue, his mind racing.

"Simon!" She breathed out.

Her breathless voice, saying his name like a prayer, made his heart flutter.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between them slightly. He wanted to touch her, to hold her in his arms, but he held back.

"Yes, love?" he said, his voice low and soft.

She leaned in close, touching his mask. "Face." She whispered.

His heart skipped a beat as she leaned close, her fingers brushing against his mask. She wanted to see his face.

He froze for a moment. No one outside of the team and higher-ups had seen his face. He was always careful about his identity.

But then he looked at her, her eyes full of pleading. He couldn't deny her.

Slowly, he reached up and removed his mask.

She closed her eyes. Her hands on his cheeks, thumbs brushing on his skin, touching his nose, his eyes. She opened her slowly, taking in his features. The scar ran on the side of his face.

He sat still as she brushed her fingers over his skin, her touch like a soft caress. It tingled on his skin, igniting a fire within him.

He watched her intently, studying her expression as she looked at him, her fingers tracing the scar on his face. It was a stark reminder of his past, but with her, it didn't feel so monstrous.

"I-I." Her lips moved.

He watched her lips, her attempts to speak. He waited, every muscle in his body taut. He wanted to hear her voice, to know what she was thinking.

He gently took one of her hands in his, his fingers tracing small circles on her palm.

"Lo-love you." She whispered

Her words hit him like a wave, washing over him with a mixture of surprise and relief.

He stared at her, the confession echoing in his mind. He'd hoped, dreamed of her saying those words to him, but he'd never thought he'd actually hear them.

He brought her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers gently.

"I love you too," he said, his voice gruff with emotion. "More than anything."

She leaned closer, gently cupping his face. She pressed a gentle and soothing kiss on his lips.

He felt her lips on his, a light as a whisper, but it sent tremors through his body.

He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling. It felt like coming home, like finding what he'd been searching for all these years.

He brought his hands up to hold her face, returning the kiss gently but with a desperate fervor.

As she wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest, he felt a surge of protectiveness and possessiveness wash over him.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. He buried his face into her hair, breathing her in.

They sat there in silence, the only sound her soft breaths and his rapid heartbeats.

As he held her close, he watched as she fell asleep in his arms, her face relaxed in sleep.

She looked so vulnerable yet so beautiful.

He felt a pang in his chest. He wished he could shield her from all the pain and suffering, but he knew that wasn't possible.

So he sat there, holding her, watching over her, offering her whatever comfort he could.

Every now and then, she would squirm slightly in her sleep, drawing closer to him, seeking comfort. He felt his heart thump against his chest every time she did.

He wanted nothing more than to scoop her up and carry her to his room. To hold her close, to listen to her soft breaths, to feel her warmth against him.

The night grew darker, the base grew quieter. The other members had retreated to their own quarters, leaving them alone in the park.

He continued to watch over her, his body growing stiff from sitting in the same position for so long. But he didn't want to move, didn't want to disturb her.

He picked her up carefully, cradling her against his chest. She was so light, so fragile in his arms.

He slowly stood up, keeping her close, and began walking towards his quarters.

He navigated the dark corridors silently, careful not to bump into any of the other team members.

As he walked, he felt her head rest against his chest, her body molding against his. It felt like she belonged in his arms, like they were two puzzle pieces fitting together.

As he reached his door, he fumbled slightly with his keys, balancing her weight in his arms.

He finally managed to unlock the door and stepped into his room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

He walked over to the bed and laid her down gently, pulling the blankets over her.

He took a step back, looking down at her sleeping form. Her hair splayed out around her head like a halo. Even in sleep, she looked like an angel.

"Simon!" She said his name slowly, opening her eyes. She gently held her hand out to hold his.

He looked down at her as her eyes opened, her hand reaching out for his.

He took her hand in his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. His heart thumped harder in his chest at the sound of his name on her lips.

"Co-Come to me." She gently pulled him.

He let her pull him closer, his body moving like a magnet drawn to hers.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, facing her. He gently caressed her cheek, his fingers tracing her skin.

She took his hand and put it on her chest.

As she placed his hand on her chest, he felt her heartbeat. It was faster than normal, but steady.

He could feel the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, the warmth of her body seeping through the thin fabric of her dress.

Her eyes dazy and half lidded. She bit her lip.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep himself in check. He wanted her so badly, but he didn't want to take advantage of her vulnerability.

He gently caressed her hair, his fingers tangling in the silken strands. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.

She nodded.

He looked into her eyes, those beautiful eyes that had captivated him since the first time he saw her. He saw her desire mirrored in them, her need for him just as strong as his need for her.

He couldn't wait any longer. He captured her lips in a deep, passionate kiss, pouring all his desire and pent-up emotions into it.

He felt her yield to his kiss, her mouth opening to him. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring hers.

He pulled her even closer, his hands roaming over her body, craving the feel of her skin.

As he kissed her, his mind was a whirlwind of desire and need. The only thing he could focus on was her body against his, her taste on his tongue, and the pounding of his heart in his chest.

"Si-, I-I wan't yo-you." She uttered.

Her soft words, laced with longing and desire, echoed in his ears, driving him wild.

He took a shaky breath, trying to control the flood of emotions surging through him.

"I want you too," he rasped, his voice rough with need. "So much it hurts."

"I-I yours." She said.

Her declaration hit him like a punch to the gut. To hear her say that, to claim him as hers, it set his soul on fire.

He looked into her eyes, his heart swelling with emotion. "And I'm yours," he whispered against her lips, "Completely and utterly yours. Always."

They fell into each other's arms, losing themselves in a tangle of limbs and emotions. They spent the night lost in each other's arms, their passion burning hotter and hotter with each touch and kiss.

As the sun began to rise, casting a golden light over the room, they lay there panting and satisfied. Simon held her close to him, his hand gently tracing patterns on her skin.

He looked down at her, her head resting on his chest, her eyes closed in contentment. He felt a sense of peace and satisfaction settling over him.

He knew there were still dangers out there, still missions to complete and threats to face. But in that moment, none of that mattered. All that mattered was her, the woman in his arms.

He gently pulled the blanket over them, cocooning them in warmth. He closed his eyes, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest against his.

His mind was blissfully blank except for one thought, repeating like a soothing mantra.

She's mine.

[bihansthot]

Ok lovelies I did it! I wrote the Kuai Liang side of the request for:

Hopefully you lovelies will enjoy this one! I actually had a really good time writing it which is weird because I usually struggle writing for Kuai Liang verses Bi-Han. I had fun though because I got to incorporate some of myself in this one too since it’s a reader insert for Kuai Liang, the reader, you are my sister-in-law! Fun right? It got a little longer than I expected a little over three pages maybe four? I don’t know Pages is kind of a weird app but really easy to navigate on Apple devices and since I write on my Ipad now using a bluetooth keyboard it seems to do the job, it’s just kind of annoying because there’s no page numbers and no word count, but whatever I guess. This fic also heavily features good brother Bi-Han and depicts the Sub-Zero Brothers in their natural enviroment, aka being antagonistic little shits to one another, but in a very loving way. Anyway I really like this one and hope you will too!

Title: What Are Big Brother’s For

Rating: Teen (some swears, what else is new for me)

Pairing: Kuai Liang x F!Reader, background Bi-Han x Sol (aka me) implied Tomas x Hallvard

Summary: You and Kuai Liang are expecting your first child together and despite reading tomes of literature it turns out the younger Sub-Zero brother has no clue what to do, thankfully Big Brother Bi-Han is there to help.

Author’s Note: As always lovelies please like, reblog, comment if you enjoyed it as it keeps me motivated to write more!

You exhale deeply and bend forward at the waist, extending your arms toward the ground as much as your huge, pregnant belly will let you as you follow along to your “Mommy and Me: Prenatal Yoga, Third Trimester” Blu-Ray. “Inhale deeply and slowly roll yourself upright,” the movie continues as you follow along wobbling a bit as your balance isn’t quite what it used to be. You hear the door open and you’re greeted with a cool breeze wafting towards you as you hear the footfalls of your husband, the Grandmaster inching ever closer. His cool lips press gently to your forehead as you attempt to continue following along with the video mimicking the tree pose. You can’t help but reach out for Kuai Liang’s well-muscled shoulders to steady yourself.

“Are you sure it’s ok to still be doing yoga this late into your pregnancy xīngān?” He asks, his deep voice laced with concern. Being a first-time father Kuai Liang is not sure what to expect or what is safe or not despite the mountain of literature he’s read on the topic, he’s asked his brother what to expect numerous times as Bi-Han was a proud father of four and had been through the ups and downs of his significant other being pregnant. Bi-Han has been an invaluable resource on the topic, but after four children he’s a bit more laidback on the subject and a little more “just let her do what she wants” for Kuai Liang’s taste.

“It’s fine Liang, this is the program for the third trimester, the Blu-Ray says you can do it up to labor, you know I want to keep my body as healthy as I can for our baby,” you beam and happily rub your belly as you try and transition into chair pose, something far more obtainable for a very pregnant woman to achieve. “Oh, that felt a little weird, I don’t know if the baby likes this pose,” you crinkle your nose and try and ignore the sudden burst of pain rippling through you.

Kuai Liang grabs your shoulders immediately in an attempt to steady you, “really xīngān you shouldn’t continue if you’re in pain, you’re due any day now, I’m sure our little one will understand if you take some time off,” his handsome face knits in concern as he expresses his fears to you.

“Really it’s ok, it helps keep my mind clear and not focused on the pain that’s coming,” you say that, but you’ve given up following along with the video, the cryomancer’s strong, but gentle hold on you making it impossible if you wanted to continue in the first place.

“Still, I think that’s enough for now, your feet look swollen, let’s get you in the chair by the fireplace and let me rub your feet for you xīngān,” Kuai Liang helps walk you over to the fireplace but you never reach it.

A loud “Oh” falls from your lips as liquid suddenly drenches you to the core and your feet are soaking wet with the warm, thin fluid.

“Oh, what?” Kuai Liang repeats with concern before realizing what had happened, “oh! Oh! Your water broke!? Your water broke!” He parrots over and over again, panic written all over the Grandmaster’s handsome face.

You groan as a contraction hits and squeeze his cool hand tightly, “Liang, I can’t stand,” you warn before going slack in his strong arms.

“What do I do, what do I do?” The cryomancer repeats over and over as he supports your weight with ease, it finally dawns on him to get you to the chair. He scoops you up bridal style and carefully makes his way over to the plush chair by the roaring fire. He sets you down in the comfortable chair before staring at you like a lost puppy.

You cry out again as another contraction wells up and lights your nervous system on fire, you grimace and look over at your husband, trying to remain calm, “call your brother?” You offer, hoping the older cryomancer might actually have some useful tips or information to deal with the situation, but deep down you hope it's his wife who answers.

“Bi-Han! Yes! Call gēgē he’ll know what to do!” Kuai Liang snaps into action as he makes his way over to the desk in the room to search for his phone, of course, he wouldn’t carry it on his person like someone normal would. It takes him a moment to locate the device as he frantically fumbles to unlock the device and scrolls through his most recent contacts list until he finally comes across Bi-Han. “Please pick up, please pick up, come on you asshole answer the damn phone,” he growls in frustration at the screen as you sit there trying to focus on your breathing.

“What do you want you, little shit?” You can hear Bi-Han’s voice finally answer as Kuai Liang switches over to speaker phone.

“What do I do?!” Kuai Liang desperately asks, not bothering to explain the situation to his brother at all.

“Shit, what’s wrong, calm down kiddo,” you notice the shift in Bi-Han’s antagonist tone quickly switch to protective big brother mode.

“It’s y/n, her water broke, she’s having contractions, I don’t know what to do, I’m not ready!” Kuai Liang laments, his voice cracking as if he was trying very hard not to start crying.

“Dídí listen to me, you have to calm down, you knew this was coming, she’s been pregnant for nine months, take a deep breath,” Bi-Han instructs. “How far apart are the contractions, is the pain manageable? Have you called her doctor yet?” Bi-Han asks in a deep, calm yet authoritative voice, the same type of voice he’s used to calm his little brother down for years.

“I, I uh I don’t know, I didn’t know you were supposed to time them,” he answers sheepishly, red tinting his cheeks.

“Ok, let's start with that, can y/n hear me?” The older cryomancer asks, trying to keep his younger brother calm.

“I can hear you Bi-Han, is, is Sol there by chance?” You answer taking another deep breath and cradling your stomach.

“Sol’s picking up the boys from soccer practice, but she’ll be back before anything crazy happens, she won’t want to miss your little one’s entrance into the world,” Bi-Han reassures calmly. “Now, have you been keeping track of the contractions since my knucklehead of a brother isn’t?”

“They aren’t urgent yet, maybe five minutes apart, but the pain is pretty rough,” you admit and wince as the pain builds up again.

“Ok, Liang, hang up on me, call the doctor, tell them y/n’s contractions are approximately five minutes apart, but the pain is worrying, I’ll be right over, I’m going to call Sol and tell her to meet us at the hospital ok? Don’t do anything until I get there,” Bi-Han instructs the younger cryomancer.

“Ok, ok gēgē, call the doctor, tell them contractions five minutes apart, but painful, wait for you,” Kuai Liang repeats before quietly adding, “thank you,” and hanging up. “Ok xīngān I’m going to call the hospital now, are you feeling ok?”

“I’m ok love, I’m just a little worried, I haven’t been through this before either,” you give your husband a worried little sideways smile.

“We’ll get through this together xīngān if Bi-Han can manage being a father I know I’m more than capable of it,” Kuai Liang scoffs softly not wanting to admit how grateful he was to have his older brother in this situation.

You can’t help but wonder if Bi-Han was as flustered as Kuai Liang is going through it for the first time, knowing your himbo king of a brother-in-law though he probably winged the whole thing and somehow managed to do things correctly, though not without his wife’s help. You vaguely ponder what it must have been like for Sol as your husband calls the hospital and tells them you’d be arriving shortly and going over the procedure for check-in upon arrival, highly impressed at your technology-hating husband’s ability to navigate two phone calls back-to-back. Suddenly the fire goes out thanks to a large draft in the room caused by your brother-in-law’s timely arrival.

“I sent the recruits home for the night,” he announces as you shiver, wondering how on earth your sister-in-law managed to get used to the cold that clung to the older cryomancer.

“Thank you, brother,” Kuai Liang replies and stands there awkwardly before Bi-Han’s large hands clamp down on his shoulders reassuringly.

“You got this little bro, you don’t have to do anything hard, you just wait, your wife has to do all the hard stuff stop freaking out, she has the same doctor who’s delivered my four kids, everything will be just fine,” Bi-Han informs Kuai Liang in a very confident tone.

The Grandmaster just stands there blinking for a few moments before finally coming back to himself, “you’re right, everything will be fine, if you can deal with this I certainly can.” Kuai Liang does his best to give himself a little pep talk as for once Bi-Han doesn’t question his capabilities.

Bi-Han makes his way over to you and crouches down next to the chair before placing a cold hand on your forehead, “are you feeling ok? You don’t feel hot, is the pain ok? Have you been abusing my brother’s hand properly?”

Something about Bi-Han’s simple gesture makes you feel at ease and you’re very grateful your brother-in-law is there in this moment and you can’t help but cry, emotions getting the best of you, but in a good way. “I’m hanging in there Bi-Han, the baby is behaving and not hurting as much anymore, but I get the feeling they’re eager to get here, my contractions are closer together now,” you all but sob as you ramble the information off to the older cryomancer.

“Shhh, it’s ok, you’re doing such a good job,” Bi-Han reassures, petting your head softly before glaring harshly at his younger brother and it doesn’t take Liang long to get the message to come over to hold your hand. “I called Sol and Tomas, Hallvard is watching the kids for the night, they’re already headed to the hospital, is your bag all packed?” Bi-Han asks soothingly.

“Yes, it’s packed, can you go get it for me? It’s at the foot of the bed, along with the baby’s bag and the car seat we borrowed from you,” you steady your breathing as you ask him between sobs trying not to let them turn into hiccups.

“Of course,” Bi-Han leaves you alone with your husband as he goes to gather the things the two of you need for your soon-to-be baby.

“She’s really almost here isn’t she?” You sniffle happily cradling your swollen belly, pride slowly replacing the panic you felt earlier.

“She is,” Kuai Liang repeats softly, “I’m so proud of you xīngān you’re doing a much better job of keeping things together than I am, I was so petrified I didn’t know what to do.” He strokes your head lovingly and places a kiss on top of your head as you tense with another contraction causing the Grandmaster to grimace from the intense pressure you inflict on his hand.

“Sorry,” you grin sheepishly and wipe away the last of your stress-induced tears, “are you ready to be a father?”

Pride gets the best of Kuai Liang as he answers, “if my idiot brother can be a father you can bet I’m ready, I will be the best father out there, our little girl will want for nothing and be loved more than anyone else this world has ever known.”

“Idiot brother who knows what he’s doing,” Bi-Han corrects as he saunters back into the main room or the Grandmaster’s suite. “I’m putting his stuff in the back, with you Kuai Liang, y/n can sit up front so she has more leg room, but I’m driving, no way in hell am I letting your frazzled ass drive right now.” Bi-Han dictates as he heads out to pack up the car.

“No. No! Absolutely not! There is no way I am letting you drive! We’ll never make it there in one piece!” Kuai Liang exclaims forgetting about you for a moment to run after his brother in a relatively normal display of sibling rivalry.

“I’m the oldest, and it’s my car, I’m driving, end of story, besides you’re emotional as fuck right now, you’ll drive us into a snowbank. No discussion.” Bi-Han barks back and Kuai Liang almost winces at the dominance in his brother’s voice.

You cry out from another contraction, “oh for fuck’s sake, let him drive Liang!” You shout at the two squabbling cryomancers.

“Do as your wife says,” Bi-Han hisses and holds the keys over Liang’s head knowing full well his brother couldn’t reach them without jumping for them.

“Fine,” Kuai Liang finally relents, “but you aren’t allowed into the delivery room.” He huffs hating to lose to his older brother.

“Jokes on you kiddo, you aren’t allowed either,” Bi-Han laughs and climbs into the driver’s seat as Kuai Liang makes his way back over to you to carry you to the car.

“Unfortunately he’s right again, only females are allowed in the delivery room love, something about Chinese customs, Sol and the doctor warned me in advance since it's different than what I’m used to,” you explain sheepishly.

“We’ll see about that,” Kuai Liang scoffs as he buckles you into the seat and climbs into the back praying to the Elder Gods Bi-Han delivers all of you to the hospital in one piece.

The trip down the mountain was harrowing but by some miracle, Bi-Han navigated the drive with surprising precision as he pulls up to the hospital’s entrance. “Ok, get her inside, I’ll park and bring the bags in, Sol and Tomas should be there already,” Bi-Han announces as he puts the car in park and idles at the entrance.

“Thank you, brother, I, I mean it,” Kuai Liang replies reluctantly as he steps out of the car and helps you out.

“Please let me walk Liang, I don’t need the hospital seeing you carry me please, it’s embarrassing,” you try and reason with your husband. Unfortunately for you though another contraction hits and you double over in pain causing Kuai Liang to immediately pull you into his arms and march you inside the hospital.

“There you two are!” You’re greeted with a bright smile as a cheerful, busty, pink-haired woman bounds towards you.

“Sol, how did you get here so fast? You barely had time to leave before us and you had to stop to get Tomas,” Kuai Liang greets your sister-in-law and looks over toward Tomas who looked white as a ghost.

“Do NOT let this woman drive,” Tomas merely states.

“I, uh don’t really know how to drive in the snow or ice, so I just floored it the whole way and hoped for the best!” Sol chirps happily as she pulls a wheelchair over and gestures for Kuai Liang to put you down.

You blink at her incredulously, “Sol, you’ve lived in Arctika over 15 years, what do you mean you don’t know how to drive in the ice or snow?” You’re so distracted by your overly excited sister-in-law you don’t even notice your next contraction.

“You think Bi-Han lets me drive? Like Mr. I’m in Control of Everything would give up driving, he only lets me ever drive the kids to school and back since it’s right down the road, and honestly, most days they walk anyway,” Sol explains giving you that looks of ‘you’ve met Bi-Han now try being married to that’.

“R-right,” you stammer trying to be polite as Kuai Liang informs the desk clerk of your arrival and receives directions to your room, and informs him the doctor is on their way from their private practice and should be there momentarily.

“Ready xīngān?” Kuai Liang asks as he takes control of the wheelchair away from the pink-haired woman.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you answer trying your best to feel as confident as you can.

The delivery process isn’t as bad as you feared, but you were very grateful for the epidural and your overly excited sister-in-law’s support. You cuddle your little girl to your chest for the first time and cry tears of joy as you’re soon joined by Kuai Liang who can’t help but become overwhelmed with emotion as he openly weeps upon seeing the two of you.

“Oh she’s perfect, absolutely perfect, she looks just like you xīngān,” he whispers softly as Sol quietly makes her way out of the room to give you two some space.

“Come on qīn, I wanna see my niece!” Bi-Han all but shouts as he’s forcefully pushed out of the room and you’re once again grateful for your sister-in-law.

You and Kuai Liang are left in quiet awe as your baby girl coos and opens her eyes for the first time blinking and looking up at the two of you before smiling brightly and making happy noises.

“I think she likes us,” you whisper to Kuai Liang, eyes still glistening with unshed tears of happiness.

“I think you might be right,” he agrees as he squeezes your hand in glee as your daughter’s chubby little fingers wrap around his finger and she squeals with excitement.

“Look, she knows her Bàba already,” you sigh happily cradling her close. “She’s cool like you,” you admire the small bundle in your arms as your emotions overflow with happiness.

“Your Bàba loves you so much little one, so much,” Kuai Liang whispers and allows himself to get lost in the moment, lost in the emotions of bringing a life into the world with the one he loves more than anything else. He hadn’t realized how much fatherhood would change him, but this simple, tiny little girl was suddenly the center of his world and he would do anything and everything to protect his little family.