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sparklingblu · 5 months

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Eroverse

Pt.2 - The Ring

Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader

Passing out twice and waking up without being able to feel your fingers is not your ideal way of starting a morning. Your body feels like it have been battered with baseball bats rapidly and frozen in an ice box. The throbbing pain in your head earlier have returned.

You summon the last bit of your strength to sit up from the cold bathroom floor. Immediately, the room starts spinning and you have to grab the shower handle for support.

"Damn it"

You curse, feeling like a madman and you might already be one with everything you have went through in the last hour. An app transporting you to a doorless room is not something that happens everyday. And Rei, you feel a surge of triumph despite the state you are in. You got a blowjob from an idol, something millions of people fantasize about and you are no longer one of them. You can't believe your luck although a part of your mind lingers on the thought that everything comes with a price. And what's the price you have to pay for such a one in a million opportunity?

As you walk to the sink to freshen up, your foot suddenly presses on something solid with a loud 'Crack'. You look down and curse again. Your phone lays there, fissures spread across the screen like tentacles. Hopefully, it's only the screen protector. You pick it up and it immediately chimes with a notification.

"Congrats on completing your first quest. Please wait patiently for your next one"

said the textbox from the "Ero" app.

Just like that? you think. Usually completing a quest grants you a reward. That's the whole point it's called a quest but apparently, this app thinks a congratulation is enough. Maybe the experience is already rewarding enough and you are being ungrateful. You doubt there's anyone else who can brag they got sucked off by an idol.

Your thumb nearly press the notification before you pull away in alarm. You are not ready to face the darkness again. The app tells you to wait for your next quest so it's relatively safe but you are not taking any chances.

You turn on the tap of the sink, washing your face and hopefully your weariness as well. There's no way you can go through the day in your current state. You have an article that you have to finish today and if you don't, you are probably going to end up with instant noodles for all three meals for the rest of the week.

Holding on to the wall with one hand for support you quickly make your way to a chair in the corner, practically throwing yourself onto it. You let out a sigh. The soreness still isn't gone but it feels less painful now and the chill is bearable.

As the pain lessens, your thought becomes clearer. You take time to reflect on what have happened so far. An app called 'Ero' that randomly appears on your phone and gives you the weirdest quest ever. (Maybe not weird, but definitely not ordinary) You pass out, wake up, got head from an idol, pass out and wake up again. Nothing makes sense except the fact that you go through all of it and you are very much sure it's real.

In the meantime, you decide to do some research. You flip open your laptop, the digits on the screen indicating around an hour has passed since your first blackout though you feel like it haven't been that long. Maybe time pass differently in that gloomy room. Maybe you are just enjoying yourself too much that you lose track of time. You have absolutely no idea.

Entering google, the first thing you type up is of course, 'Ero app'. No luck, none of the results have what you are looking for. You try again, just 'Ero' this time. The results aren't so much different. In a last desperate attempt, you type "App that lets you fuck idols". Stupid? Totally. But it's the last straw. Some websites related to kpop pop off. But nothing that can give you any explanation.

You close your laptop shut with a sigh. Ok, so nothing on the internet. Maybe you can ask someone about it. But what will you ask? "Hey, ever get a notification from an app that lets you fuck idols?" Not a good idea. Afterall, it might just be a hallucination. Perhaps you have been jerking off and fantasizing about idols so much your brain finally snaps. The thing is, it's probably the millionth time you tell yourself this and people wants to believe things aren't real because in fact, they very much are.

So nothing left to do except carry on with your life. No use dwelling on something you can't possibly figure out or anyone else in this case. The pain have drastically lessen and you make yourself a cup of coffee. The caffeine helping you anchor back into reality.

To this point, you have been naked. Too tired to put something on and too lazy to care. Not like anyone wants to see your bare ass anyway. And the curtains are drawn so you don't need to worry about being out on display.

You chug down the rest of the coffee and head back into the bathroom to take your shower that got delayed for an hour. The memory of being swallowed by the dark returned as soon as you set foot into the room but you shrug it off and proceed to do what you come for.

The cold water wash away rest of your exhaustion and even after you are done, you stay an extra fifteen minutes just to bask in the pleasure of the cool droplets hitting you at full force. Ironically, you find yourself humming a melody from Love Dive by IVE given you just cum down one of the members throat.

Then a thought enters your mind at the worst possible moment and a chill runs down your spine. What if the person you met isn't Rei? Crazy as it is, there's no way an idol will randomly appear to you, calls you master, sucks you off and disappears. So now what? Is it a shapeshifter? You have heard tales of such demons that takes on the form of others. A succubus? Could be, given that you are about to jerk off to Rei, she might have been your fantasy partner at the moment.

"Stop it Michael"

You scold yourself.

"You are a grown ass man, act like one"

You have already decided not to dwell on it and that's what you will do. Keep calm and carry on. No more crazy thoughts about demons and succubuses.

The rest of the day was nothing out of ordinary. You stay in your room all day and order takeout, finishing up the article you have to submit tomorrow. The thought of the 'Ero' app enters your mind from time to time but it's nothing you can't deal with.

When you finally finish your task, it's already 6 pm. The sun is starting to set and rays of twilight pour into your room from the slit of your curtains, which you haven't opened since morning for some reason. Maybe the darkness-

You quickly cut off your train of thoughts and reach for your phone to get your daily dose of social media when it suddenly chimes. Oh, not again, you think. The funny thing? A slight part of your mind is hopeful. Another quest, another idol to fuck. You feel pathetic.

Nevertheless, you check your notification. Thank god, it's not the app. Or you are disappointed it isn't? Ever seen cartoons where a small angel version of you sit on your shoulder and a devil version sits on another? That's how you feel right now. One single mind yet two different thoughts battling for dominance.

The text is from one of your fellow colleagues, Russell, who have worked with you on several ocassions. "Drinks at Berny's tonight? It's my treat" Someone got his paycheck, you think. But hell, who don't want free drinks? "Sure, count me in, the usual time?" you reply. "You got it" is the answer.

You turn off your phone. At least you have something to look forward to now. Maybe a drink is all you need to clear your mind.

At 8 sharp, you are already dressed in your best (and only) outfit, khaki pants and a polo shirt punctuated by a denim jacket you throw on just to add the final touch to your fit. Berny's bar is not so far away from your house and another reason being not wanting to waste your money on a cab, you walk there. The streets are bustling with people and the sound of horns, screech of tires and bits and pieces of voices that ocassionally escape from conversations nearby to your hearing.

A five minutes walk is all it takes for you to reach your favorite bar, the Berny's. The place is quiet as usual, even on weekends. The name of the bar stands out, carved into the wooden signboard over the double set of wooden doors. It's not a fancy place like the ones you see in big cities but the old building gives off a warm comforting feeling, like it can wash away every single one of your worries. And that's what you need right now.

You enter the building and immediately spot Russell and some familiar faces at a table near the counter. You raise your hand in greeting and take a seat. As it's a Wednesday night, the bar is even quieter than usual, the only other seats being a couple who are giggling over their beers and a trio of friends talking loudly. Perfect for you.

"Michael, my man, so you finally come out after hibernation?"

Russell teases and you snort.

"Real funny, Russell"

The others, around five people are lost in their own conversation, publishers, writers and friends of friends. When the drinks arrive accompanied by several things to nibble, the conversations get even more heated, fueled by the alochol. You chime in once in a while but most of the time, you just sip your drink in silence. Russell must have noticed it because he glances at you and says

"Hey man, you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm good. No worries"

You lie. The thing is being here don't uncloud your thoughts, in fact it reminds you even more about the 'Ero' app. Will those people be able to talk and laugh like that if they went through what you did? It might seem like a crazy idea. You got to experience what millions of people fantasize about and you are...scared? depressed? worried? You can't find a single word to describe what you are feeling right now. You can't help thinking there is a price to pay for what you have achieved. On the other hand there is a sort of yearning, the desire to go through it once again, never satisfied with the pleasure. You feel like a thirsty person who have fallen into a well.

You have been spacing out for so long you don't realize your bladder tightening, signaling for a need to answer the call of nature. You excuse yourself and head to the restroom, a small single room in the back of the bar.

After obliging to your bodily urge, you pull up your pants, accidentally dropping your phone out of your pocket. It hits the floor with a thud and when you pick it up, more tremors run across the screen, making it looks like a glacier on the verge of breaking open.

You are about to blame yourself for making yourself waste money on a new screen protector when the screen lights up with a chime. You freeze, your eyes focused on the single text box on the screen.

"New quest ready, ready for your next adventure chosen one?"

There's no need to explain where the text is from.

You start feeling light headed. The memory of the pain and cold from earlier in the day rushing back into your mind like a dam breaking open. Do you answer or do you not answer? To be or not to be? You should have deleted the app but would you have really? Aren't you the one who's yearning for it secretly?

The angel and the devil on your shoulders start bickering again, million thoughts manifesting and disintegrating at every second. You are the one who decided to carry on, aren't you? Keep calm and carry on, you say. That's bullshit. You don't want to carry on, you want more of this. Regardless of the consequences, if there are even consequences? Maybe you are overthinking. Yes, definitely. That's it. No harm in living your fantasies. You are just that lucky. A magic app just for you.

Your thumb taps on the notification then releases. For a moment nothing happens, then the familiar loading screen with the black heart loads up. After a minute, it lights up with a flash. You obviously haven't learned from last time because you get momentarily blinded. When it dims, there's a textbox in the center, another quest.

"Second Quest: Tame Eunbi

Make Eunbi submits to you and try not to get killed

There is no time limit"

Your kpop knowledge comes in. Eunbi, former leader of Iz*one, currently a soloist. To be honest, you are a bigger fan of her tits than herself. Making her submit? Nothing strange. Try not to get killed? Definitely strange. Rei have been nothing but obedient in your first quest and now have the tables turned?

You have no time to debate as the darkness surrounds you, embracing you in its obsidian hold. This time, you are not as startled though you still dread it. Then comes the cold wave that spreads to every single cells in your body, then you collapse.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Here's a friendly advice. Don't try to pass out if you can manage. It doesn't get better no matter how many time you have done it.

As you come back to your senses, you feel a wave of nausea so strong you think you are gonna throw up. Your open you eyes and have to close them again after they get burned from the glow of the single lightbulb overhead, hanging from a wire.

After taking a few deep breaths, you turn to the side and open your eyes once again. As usual, you have no idea where you are. You are lying on a white canvas which is thankfully soft. You support yourself on one arm and sit up, scanning the environs.

You are in a rectangular platform, enclosed by ropes on all four sides that run from posts in each corner of the ring. Beyond it, you can faintly make out the shape of shelves, all lined with medals and trophies of every shape and size. For some reason, at the foot of one shelf lays a sculpture of a swan like the ones you see in ponds, toppled over as if someone have kicked it down.

So, you are in a boxing ring. Not exactly an ideal place to fuck someone. But your opinion doesn't matter. It's your quest that does. It's a pretty mysterious quest compared to the first one. 'Try not to get killed' it says. And considering where you are right now, it's just a perfect place to do the exact opposite.

Looking from the bright side, at least this time, you are not naked. You look good, even. But if you have to protect yourself, it's not really the best fit. Good looks won't help you survive.

"Who are you?"

A voice from the back startle you so much you nearly let out a shriek. You rise from the floor, turning your head to the back slowly in case you are at gunpoint. But after seeing who's behind you. Being held at gunpoint becomes the least of your worries.

Eunbi stands, propped against a pole in a corner of the ring. Her hypnotic eyes seem to bore into your soul like a predator preparing to pounce on its prey. Long raven bangs fall on her shoulders gracefully, one side tucked to the back. She wears a black sports bra with two silky rows of fabric extending from each strap, zigzagging on her chest and obscuring the view of her cleavage (which is a big loss). She is dressed in jeans of the same color from her waist down. Its top button unattached, opened up to give a slight view of her midriff. You wonder if it's intentional or she just doesn't know. If it's the latter, you are not going to point it out.

"Answer my question"

Eunbi snaps, her tone sharp with despise.

"My name's Michael"

You introduce yourself. Seems like a good start when facing a woman who already seems to hate you.

"Another one of his spawns, I see"

She mocks, her eyes never wavering away from your face.

"Another human to kill I guess"

"Look, I'm not here to-"

Your words are cut short by the pain that explodes from the side of your ribs. You fall to your knees, wrapping your arms around your torso. Eunbi, who is far away from you just a moment ago now stands in front of you, looking down with animalistic hunger in her eyes.

"Wait-"

Another eruption of agony. This time in your back, you fall flat on the floor, facedown. Your lust have gotten the best of you this time. Eunbi isn't the obedient type like Rei. She's out for blood.

You are just waiting for another blow that will finish you off when you suddenly fee a surge of strength that course through your veins, empowering your muscles.

You get up with your newfound strength, just in time to avoid Eunbi who strikes the floor with strength that will probably turn you into mush.

She looks up, her eyes wide with confusion.

"Impossible! How?"

But it's now your time to strike. You tackle into Eunbi with the side of your body, knocking her to the floor. She growls and prepares to get up again but you are faster, quickly planting your knees on both sides of her legs and pinning her hands by the waist with your own.

"This is unfair!"

She complains.

"You have never help anyone but why him?"

You have no idea who she's talking to but you already set your goal in mind. Ripping off the fabric from her straps, you tie her hands in a bundle above her head. She writhes, cursing in languages you don't understand and attempts to kneel you when you accidentally loosen the hold on her legs. However, her effort bears no fruit as you tighten the hold on her legs even more.

"You will regret this! Next time, it won't be this easy!"

You ignore her, now staring at her cleavage that have been made visible after removing the straps. The flesh spilling out from the top of her bra. You reach for one and squeeze it over the piece of clothing. Eunbi shrieks and curses again. You do the same thing to the other one, earning another curse from Eunbi.

"You talk too much"

You mutters, sliding a hand down the opening of her jeans, reaching for her sweet spot. Eunbi isn't wearing any panties and your finger quickly locates the nirvana between her legs. You shove a finger into her wet folds to which she replies with a new name for you. But you are too focused to care, slipping another finger into her.

"You are already so wet, huh? You must have been fantasizing about this"

I mock as I start to slide my fingers in and out of her, each pump making Eunbi's voice a decibel lower until it reaches a point where her malison get replaced by huffs that start to sound more and more like moans. You move in a precise pace, making sure to tease her clit every now and then.

Eunbi's back starts to arch, her knees rising as if encouraging you to finger her even deeper. And you happily oblige, pulling her jeans down to her kneels and increasing your pace which is already becoming unbearable for her. With each thrust of your fingers, you extract a moan from Eunbi, whose eyes start to roll into the back of her head, her legs shaking violently.

It's hard to believe this is the woman who tired to kill you just a moment ago. Her vigour now replaced by nymphomania. Her eyes which says "Get ready to die" earlier now begs you not to stop.

"Where's the threats now, Eunbi? Cat got your tongue?"

You asks as you thrusts in your finger with full force, draw back and thrust in again, making her body convulses.

"I'm....I'm sorry.....please...."

She starts whining and that's when you know you have completed your quest. But you still have other ideas. This is not enough, you have to push her over the limit. Turns her into nothing but a vessel for your pleasure.

"Oh, are you now?"

You demand, your fingers rubbing her clit frantically.

"Yes....yes......I'm gonna cum....I'm.."

A geyser erupted from Eunbi's wet hole, staining the white floor of the boxing ring and your pants. You withdraw your fingers from her folds and shove them into her mouth. She happily licks it clean, her knees still shaking.

"Oh, this is only a sample of what I'm gonna do to you. Don't get tired now"

You scorn as you take off your jaccket, shirt and then your pants, your mamba springing to its full length. Eunbi's gaze rest on your cock and the expression in them is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.

"What? Too big for you to handle?"

You kneel and look at her with a pathetic smile. Seeing how she just submits to you, you thinks she won't try to kill you anymore so you untie her hands.

"Those jeans are getting in the way, don't you think?"

Eunbi seems to understand the assignment, she obeys and starts pulling off her jeans.

"Oh and while you are at it, lose the rest too"

If Eunbi wants to retort, she swallows it. Because she pulls off her sports bra and lies on the floor, her huge tits now out on display.

You get on top of her in the earlier position, the only difference being that you no longer have to restrain her legs and your cocks now lie between the valley of her mounds.

"You know what to do"

You order and Eunbi immediately push in her melons from both side with her fingers, enveloping your shaft in its cotton hold. You start bucking your hips, watching your cockhead disappear and reappear between her bust. Whenever the tip emerges, Eunbi will stick out her tongue and lick your slit to get a taste of your precum.

"Yes, fuck Eunbi, just like that"

You groan as Eunbi spits between her knockers, creating a smooth pathway for your manhood. Gliding between her jugs, you bring your thumb and index fingers to squeeze her nipples, which are already rock hard from the stimulation. You roll and pinch them in your fingers, making Eunbi squeals.

To be honesr, you are not exactly a boobs person. If someone asks you boobs or ass?, you will choose ass in a heartbeat. But with the way Eunbi's jugs feel sandwiching your knob, you might seriously have to reconsider.

These squashy clouds that fits you perfectly like a glove and feels like velvet to your touch. You would use them all day if you could. And who is she to complain? She has become nothing but a cockslut, eager to tend to your needs.

You increase your pace, making it impossible for Eunbi to keep up with her licks on your head. So instead, she opens her mouth, letting the tip slides in whenever it escapes from her hooters. The warmth of her mouth combined with the friction provided by her supple flesh drives you crazy. And those fuck me eyes she gives you doesn't help.

Your waist starts to get sore from moving at an intense pace for god knows how long. Nonetheless, you push on. It's not everyday you get a chance to shove your dick between this kind of tits, such art that most people only get to enjoy with their sights.

But here you are, taking advantage of it to the fullest. Your intentions evident from the squelching sound that resonate whenever your cock rubs against her spit lubed flesh. If you say you feel like you are in heaven, that will be an understatement. You are beyond that. But that's the closest words that can describe it.

You have heard heaven is eternal. But this certainly is not as the same old tightening feeling starts manifesting in your stomach. Your cock throbs, and Eunbi must have noticed it because she starts to shake her jugs along with your thrusts, making sure not a single inch of you is left untouched by her mounds.

Each thrust take you closer and closer to the edge. The jolt of esctasy starting slithering its way to your shaft. You thrusts and thrusts until you can't take it anymore.

Globes after globes of cum erupts from your cock, painting the canvas of Eunbi's face. The first spurt lands on Eunbi's tongue which she sticks out just before your release and the rest make its way to her hair and the rest of her renowned facial features which have become nothing but a cumdump for you.

You rub the tip of your cock on her nipples to clean your remaining semen and sit down, unable to stand with how sore your waist is. You admire the mess you have made which is Eunbi, now lying on the floor with her legs spread and juice dripping down from her pink cavern. Her tits heaving up and down with each breath and her tongue still hanging out from her mouth like a bitch in heat.

Another quest. Complete. This one a lot riskier but it is certainly worth it. As horniness no longer clouds your brain, the words Eunbi said from earlier start to come back to your mind. "You have never help anyone but why him?" Was she referring to that surge of strength that comes to you right when you need it? If so, who's she talking to? Who is this person?

Just more unanswered questions. But this quest confirms one of your thoughts or so you think. That the idols you meet are not the one from the real world. You kind of doubt it after your encounter with Rei but now you are certain. Because there's no way the real Eunbi is a master at martial arts that try to kill anyone she meets nor she would say “Another human to kill, I guess” as if she's not human. This mess have become too complicated for you to handle and you need answers soon or else you will start to go insane.

"Patience, my friend"

That same deep, hollow voice from earlier echo around the room. But this time you have the time to respond.

"Who are you?"

You scream (not sure if it is necessary but it's hard when the voice is coming from all around you).

A shrill chuckle. Like flint running on steel.

"I will tell you in time, but you have performed well for today. Don't keep your friends waiting"

The darkness returns, surrounding you at all sides. But you embrace it for once. As the icy feeling erupt from within your body, you drift into unconsciousness once again.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

(Another smut. Thanks to you all for the support on my first one. I didn't expect it to blow up tbh. Until next time~)

#kpop smut #eunbi smut #izone smut #male reader #girl group smut

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girlgenius1111 · 4 months

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behave

ingrid leaves for 2 weeks for national duty. sol and mapi try to stay out of trouble and fill the time. they are successful at one of those two objectives. some medical trauma discussed.

-------

“And I have an extra one of her inhalers, in the medicine cabinet in our bathroom. She hasn’t had an asthma attack in a while but-”

“-But just in case, Solstråle has one in her backpack, and you have one in the medicine cabinet. Ingrid, relax. It’s going to be fine. You’ve left the two of us before.”

“I know, but this time it's for longer, and she’s still not really herself. So many things have happened and I’m so worried,” the Norwegian rambled. It had only been a few weeks since everything had happened, and you were doing better. You were adjusting. Ingrid still didn’t really want you out of her sight, but she was due at the airport to fly back to Norway for the international break. She’d already said goodbye to you back at the house, and now she was very anxiously trying to give Mapi some words of advice before she had to go. It wasn’t the first time she’d left you with Mapi to play for Norway, but it was the first time since your mental health had really declined, since Ingrid became aware of how hard of a time you were having.

“Ingrid, amor, I know. I will take good care of her. Do you trust me?” Mapi said calmly, squeezing one of Ingrid’s hands.

“Of course, María, I’m sorry, of course I trust you. It’s just… keep an eye on her? Please?” Ingrid’s worry bled through her tone, eyes pleading with Mapi to agree to her request.

“I promise, Ingrid. We’ll be completely fine. And if we aren’t, I’ll call you.”

“Okay.” Ingrid said quietly.

“Alright. Fly safe, mi amor. I love you.” Mapi said, pulling Ingrid into a hug. Her girlfriend clung to her, and Mapi rubbed her back softly, trying to provide some comfort.

“I love you too.” Ingrid whispered, pulling back to leave a sweet kiss on her girlfriend’s lips, before turning and walking into the airport.

Mapi sighed, a bit relieved because she honestly wasn’t sure she wouldn’t be returning home with Ingrid after a failed airport drop off. The Norwegian had been increasingly anxious about you in recent weeks, and Mapi knew that leaving you, now, felt like she was failing you as a sister, and as a guardian. She also knew, however, that she had the situation handled. You were comfortable with Mapi, and she was confident in her abilities to keep an eye on you, and make sure you were doing okay.

She understood Ingrid’s anxiety. The Norwegian had always been a person who needed to feel control. Leaving her very vulnerable sister behind while she went off to play football for two weeks would certainly not give Ingrid the sense of control she craved in every situation that scared her.

Ingrid had gone, though. Entered the airport, gotten on the plane. And now it was time for Mapi to get back home to you, and begin the 2 weeks of fun she had planned.

------

Mapi wanted to bond with you, in a way that didn’t involve heavy emotions and tears being spilled. She wanted to do something fun that you enjoyed. Even if it wasn’t something that she necessarily wouldn’t have chosen. When you enthusiastically suggested that you both go to your rock climbing gym, she’d agreed easily. How hard could it be? She was a professional athlete. She was fit and strong, and she knew she could do it. She’d checked with the trainers at Barça, and she’d been cleared for the activity. An important piece of information that she’d forgotten, however, was that she wasn’t the biggest fan of heights.

Well, it wasn’t that she forgot. It was more that she just didn’t think it would be an issue. Her fear of heights had decreased significantly in recent years. She went on hikes often up tall hills and mountains, and was barely bothered. She didn’t stop to consider that being tied to a wall and climbing to the top with very little support would be harder.

It was easy to get on the helmet, the harness, and all the gear. It was adorable to watch you expertly tie the knots to her carabiner, very nonchalantly, though Mapi could tell you wanted to impress her. It was fun to learn all the silly little commands she was supposed to shout. It was fun that you knew all the right pointers to tell her, easily getting her going up the wall. It was even fun climbing; it took a specific muscle strength that was slightly different than the one she possessed, and it was just difficult enough to present a challenge, without being overwhelmingly difficult.

As she got higher up, though, she became more and more aware that the only thing between her and falling a very significant distance to the ground was a rope and a self belaying machine. She kept herself calm, though, until she got to the top of the wall. She allowed herself a small smile, glancing down at where you were cheering for her.

That was her mistake. The ground was so far away. And once she started to panic she couldn’t really stop.

You were yelling instructions up to her, ones she could barely hear.“Okay, like I told you. Flip the hand brake to the other side, and let the slack of the rope slide through your hand.”

“NO!” Mapi shouted, surprising even herself with the volume of her voice. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t? Is it stuck?” You replied. It didn’t even occur to you that Mapi might be scared. She was Mapi. She was fearless and confident and she was brave for you when you weren’t sure you could be.

“No, Sol, I can’t. I can’t.” Mapi said again, and you were floored to hear her start to get choked up. She had a white knuckle grip on the rope in one hand, holding tight to one of the handholds with the other. She looked like her whole body was trembling, and you floundered for a minute, entirely lost on what to do and how to help.

Though after thinking about it for another minute, the solution was clear. Ingrid could fix Mapi, just like Mapi could always fix Ingrid.

“Okay, Maps, hold on I’m gonna help you.” You shouted, seeing her nod weakly. There was no getting her down like this. You had to have some confidence in the equipment, and yourself, in order to repel down the wall, and Mapi clearly possessed confidence in neither of those things at the moment.

You grabbed your phone and called Ingrid. It went right to voicemail. You called again, waving off the worker who came up to ask if you needed help.

“I’m calling Ingrid, Mapi, just hang on.”

Ingrid didn’t answer for a second time. You dialed Caro’s number, one you had for emergencies, and she picked up on the first ring, no doubt concerned at the sight of your name on the caller ID.

“Hello?” Caro said.

“Caro, are you with Ingrid? Can you get her for me?”

“Uh… yeah. She’s in the gym, I’ll grab her. Is everything okay?”

“No, please hurry.”

It was unsettling to see Mapi this distraught, and you were absolutely flooded with guilt that you’d made her do this. She was clearly terrified and it was all your fault.

You heard some muffled voices over the phone before Ingrid’s absolutely panicked one came over the line.

“Solstråle? What is it?” She asked, beside herself with worry.

“Um. Mapi and I went to the climbing gym. And she made it to the top of the wall but now she’s… stuck.”

“Stuck? What do you mean stuck?”

“She’s too afraid to come down, I don’t know what to do.”

Ingrid fought off a smile. The mental image of Mapi stuck at the top of an indoor climbing wall, securely attached to a rope, a thick mat underneath her, in absolutely no danger at all, was comical, she couldn’t lie.

“Switch it to a video call.” She instructed, for no other reason than to get photographic evidence of this. Alexia would be getting a late birthday gift this year, in the form of this moment, framed.

You did as she asked, flipping the camera around to show Mapi up at the top of the wall. It was the shortest one in the place, and Ingrid had a very clear view of her girlfriend, holding onto the wall and the rope for dear life.

“Oh, María.” Ingrid chuckled, finding the whole situation very amusing. She took a screenshot, before you spoke and the situation became significantly less funny.

“Ingrid, I think she’s crying.” You murmured. That sobered up your sister pretty quickly. It was one thing for Mapi to be scared, and entirely another for her to be so terrified she was moved to tears. Ingrid very suddenly remembered Mapi’s fading fear of heights. Or, what was supposed to be a fading fear of heights.

“Shit. Can you get up there? With me in your pocket or something?”

You sounded almost cocky when you responded. “I could get up there with my eyes closed. It’s the easiest wall.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Okay, get me up to her.”

You did as your sister asked, attaching your harness to the ropes and getting the self belay machine all set, before you slipped your sister into your pocket, and climbed up the wall, at a speed that could only be described as a sprint. It took longer than it could have, because you went slightly diagonal, trying to get as close to Mapi as you could. When you reached her, she seemed completely spaced out, every muscle in her body tensed, a few tears on her cheeks.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, turned the volume up, and held it up so Mapi could see her girlfriend.

“María?” Ingrid said soothingly.

Mapi snapped back into herself, her head whipping around to look at the phone, and at you.

“Ingrid.” she said, relief clear in her voice.

“Hey. Are you scared?”

“No, I am staying up here for fun Ingrid.” Mapi snapped. Ingrid looked unimpressed, and Mapi mumbled an apology.

“Can you listen to what Sol tells you to do? And do it with her?”

“Isn’t there another way I can get down?” She asked in a quiet voice.

“Yeah, I can cut the rope and you’d drop right down.” You deadpanned. Mapi looked horrified at you, and you choked back a laugh.

“Solstråle, that is not nice!” Ingrid scolded. “María, my love, you are completely safe. You’re going to do what Sol says, and you’ll be back on the ground in a second, okay?”

“Okay.” Mapi agreed, glaring at you.

“See you in a sec Ingrid! If we make it down alive,” you added, tucking your sister back into your pocket before she could yell at you again.

When you spoke again, though, it was soft and encouraging, and Mapi knew that you were taking her fear seriously. It is one of those little signs that you loved her, too. You weren’t as good at saying it, having not heard it said to you for a lot of your life, but you showed it. When you’d squeeze her hand during a Barça game, knowing how hard it was for her to sit out. When you’d find a silly cat tiktok and send it to her, even though she knew you didn’t find whatever it was very funny. And now, when you talked her through the whole thing, assuring her that she’d be safe the whole time.

“It’s gonna be fine, Maps. Flip the handbrake off, and hold tight to the rope. You won’t go anywhere until you let yourself.”

Mapi found herself following your instructions without much thought. You just very clearly sounded like you knew what you were doing.

“Okay, good. Now loosen your hand on the rope, just a little. A bit will slide through and you’ll drop. The less you let go of, the slower you’ll descend.” Mapi let the rope go a bit, lowering maybe an inch. You nodded encouragingly, lowering down with her. “Keep your feet on the wall. You’re just going to walk yourself down. You can go as slow as you need to.”

Very slowly, at the pace of a wounded snail, you and Mapi moved down the wall. You didn’t stop talking the whole time, forgetting, honestly, that Ingrid was in your pocket.

She was sitting in the hallway, all the way in Norway, wondering what she did to deserve such a sweet sister, who cared so deeply for the people around her. Who adjusted to her girlfriend without a second thought. Who was sensitive and loving, even if you pretended not to be.

When Mapi got down the wall, she was still shaking too badly to undo the harness. You handed her your phone, un attaching her from the wall, as she spoke quietly to your sister. When she was free, and you were free, you shoved your face next to hers, greeting Ingrid again.

If Mapi was worried you’d make fun of her, she didn't have to be.

You just smiled at her. “Ice cream?” You asked hopefully. Mapi and Ingrid felt their lips both tug up into smiles, matching smiles.

“Definitely.” Mapi agreed.

The day had been a bonding experience. Just in a very different way than Mapi had anticipated.

------

You enjoyed spending time with Mapi, you really did. But you were also a person that needed a lot of time to yourself. Maybe it was a consequence of having no one around who paid much attention to you growing up, or maybe it was just how you were wired. Either way, after almost 2 weeks of spending every minute with your sister’s girlfriend, you needed a break.

Some silence, and a break.

Which is how you found yourself on a long hike, two days before Ingrid was due home. You’d gone yourself, without Scout, which wasn’t a common occurrence, but you wanted to be gone for a while. Just you and nature and nothing but your thoughts to echo around your head.

When you got to a fork in the path, you stopped to consider. The right path would lead you back down, and you’d be home within the hour. The left path would lead you through a tricky boulder section of the hike, and you’d be gone another 2 hours.

Your only hesitation with the left path was that Ingrid had very specifically told you not to take it alone. You’d talked to her before you’d left, and she’d warned you that the boulders were really tricky, and you shouldn’t do it by yourself. She promised to go with you when she got back, if you promised not to do it today.

Mapi would never know, though. You’d just tell her you stopped at the top to enjoy the views for a bit, before you headed down. And if Mapi didn’t know, Ingrid wouldn’t know. And you really, really, just wanted some more time to yourself.

So you set off to the left, ignoring the nagging feeling in your gut that you were making a mistake.

------

You didn’t remember it hurting this bad, having a broken bone. It was definitely broken, though. You’d heard it go, even as your body hit the ground with a loud thump.

The boulders had been tricky. So incredibly tricky. They were slightly loose and wobbly, and there were big gaps in between where you could easily fall. You had to get up and over a pile of rocks to keep moving, and you were tired. There were only a few more, by your estimations, and you were so relieved to almost be done that you were a bit more careless on the last few.

It was the final obstacle that you fell from. You lost your footing towards the end of the boulder pile, rolling and tumbling down the last boulder, and onto the dirt path. You threw your arm out to catch yourself, and that was all it took.

Sitting for a moment, you assessed your hand. It was broken. You knew instantly. You’d felt this before, you knew what it was. You felt strangely calm after making that assessment, carefully testing all of your fingers, and trying to move your wrist.

Ouch. No, it was definitely broken. You had a couple options. You could call Mapi to come get you. She’d freak out and call your sister, who would be furious that you’d done exactly what she warned you not to. Or, you could finish the hike and get home. Pretend you were tired from your hike, or sick or something, and sneak away into your bedroom. Sleep it off.

Logically, you knew the second option was bullshit. You couldn’t hide a broken arm forever. The thought of going to the doctor, though, was not something you would even consider. You only had one choice.

You rose to your feet, the movement jostling your arm just enough to make your stomach turn. You bent over, throwing up onto the path. Straightening up again, you set off down the path, arm cradled close to your body. You could do this. You were strong and independent and you didn’t need anyones help.

------

You felt like the universe was on your side, with the way things were going. Aside from the broken arm, of course. You were able to slip past Mapi, telling her a small lie that you’d grabbed food on the way home and weren’t feeling well, before you made it to your room. She popped her head in to say goodnight, and if she thought your behavior was weird, she didn’t say anything.

You waited until she was in bed to shower, knowing she’d be up early for training the next day. You weren’t quite sure what your plan was past that, but you were taking this step by step.

If Mapi didn’t know, she wouldn’t make you go to the doctor. She wouldn’t tell Ingrid. And Ingrid wouldn’t be mad.

It was very poor logic, but logic nonetheless.

You probably could have kept it up for longer, too, if your damn dog wasn’t so intelligent.

------

Scout wasn’t sure what a broken bone was. Nor was he sure what was wrong with you. But you were hurting, had cried yourself to sleep the night before, and no one was doing anything. The helpful tall one was gone, leaving him with only the annoying and loud short one. Scout didn't think she was very smart, but he’d try to get the message across that someone should probably do something about you, his favorite person on planet earth.

He followed her around when she arrived home from training. She ignored him.

When she sat on the couch and turned the TV on, he stood right next to her, staring daggers at her face. She ignored him.

It wasn’t until he started to whine loudly, and paw at her hand that she got fed up and finally looked at him.

“Scout, chico, I am begging you to leave me alone.” Mapi sighed. The dog just looked at her, taking a tiny step closer to the Spaniard and letting out a quiet whine. “I swear to god.”

She stood from the couch, heading for your room. If Scout would listen to anyone, it would be you. And she assumed that he was just pouting because you had shut your door, not allowing him inside. Now that Mapi thought about it, though, she realized she hadn’t seen you at all today, though she had exchanged texts with you while she was at training. Upon arriving at your door she raised her hand to knock, but before her hand could make contact with the wood, she heard a quiet, pained yelp come from the room.

Mapi frowned. “Nena?” She called, knocking on the door before trying to knob.

It was locked.

You never locked your door.

Mapi paused for a moment, looking down at Scout next to her, who was panting and staring up at her. See, his eyes seemed to say. I told you something was wrong.

“Solstråle? Can I come in?”

Inside, you had clapped your good hand over your mouth, realizing that Mapi had heard the sound you’d made. You’d been trying to pull a sweatshirt on to hide the awful sight of your arm, but even the soft brush of the fabric against your arm was horribly painful.

Fuck. Fuck. Mapi wasn’t going to go away, not without seeing you. You struggled with the sweatshirt further before responding, but you were unable to muffle a cry of pain when your forearm twisted slightly.

You shut your eyes, fighting back tears. “I’m fine, Mapi.” You replied, though you knew very well that it would not be enough for the Spaniard.

“You don’t sound fine.” Mapi said, twisting the knob again, as if it would have magically unlocked itself in the last few seconds.

“I am. All good.” You said back, fighting against the urge to open the door and collapse into her arms; your arm was on fire, the pain so bad that you were barely keeping yourself from openly sobbing.

On the other side of the door, Mapi shook her head, growing more and more panicked. You didn’t sound right, not at all. Scout next to her had begun to pace, and she was trying to figure out if she could break the door down before she spoke again.

“Open the door, nena. I am not asking. I need to see that you’re safe.” Mapi said firmly, closing her eyes and praying to god that you were okay.

You had no choice. You stepped forward, unlocking the door, and Mapi’s eyes fell to you, cradling your arm close to your chest. You arm that looked wrong. It was bent at a slightly awkward angle, turning an ugly shade of purple, and it was twice the size of how it normally was.

“Jesus.” Mapi sighed, stepping closer to you, she missed the pure panic that flashed across your face, but she saw you flinch violently away from her, backing up until you were on the opposite side of the room. There were tears in your eyes, and Mapi froze, raising her hands in the air.

“Sol,” Mapi began, her heart shattering when you shook your head rapidly, wordlessly begging for something, although Mapi wasn’t quite sure what. “It’s just me, Sol. I won’t touch your arm. I just want to look at it, okay? I promise, I will not touch you.”

You blinked at her for a minute, before nodding slowly. You moved over to your bed, taking a seat on the edge, sitting rather stiffly. It was a testament to the trust you had in the Spaniard that you held your arm out for her to see, a quiet sob falling from your lips.

Mapi moved closer slowly, like you were a wild animal she didn’t want to scare off, until she was standing right in front of you. She kept her hands behind her back, simply looking at your arm. It was broken. Mapi wasn’t a doctor, but this wasn’t a difficult determination to make. A broken arm is pretty obvious.

“What happened?”

“I fell.”

“How did you fall?”

“I was hiking along those rocks that Ingrid told me not to climb on and I lost my balance and fell on my arm.”

“This was yesterday?” Mapi breathed, sick to her stomach at the thought that you’d been hiding this from her for so long. That you’d been hiding it at all, but that you’d gone to sleep with an untreated broken bone, that she’d left you alone while she went to training, while you had a broken bone.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, cariño.” She sighed. “You must be in so much pain.” She studied you closely, and she decided that now was not the time to have a conversation about hiding things from her. “Nena, do you want a hug?”

Now that she knew, it was even harder to pretend that you were fine. She was right. You had been in a lot of pain. You were acutely aware of that pain, now, and how desperately you wanted someone to take charge of the situation and make everything okay.

“Please,” you whispered, leaning in her direction. Mapi very carefully wrapped her arms around you, gently rubbing her hand up and down your back. You trembled against her, and Mapi thought at that moment that she would break her own arm if it meant you weren’t in pain.

Mapi hugged you tight for a minute before she very regretfully pulled back, putting her hands on her shoulders and studying you. “Okay. Okay. Here is what we’re going to do. Tomorrow, we are going to have a talk about hiding injuries from us. Because Sol, this is so dangerous. I don’t know why you didn’t tell me, and you can explain later, but right now we need to go see a doctor.”

“No.” You said simply, your face hardening as you looked up at the Spaniard. And it wasn’t that Mapi hadn’t expected some resistance; she knew that you had an issue with doctors. It was the decisiveness with which you spoke, and the barely masked fright on your face.

“Solstråle, we need to get that x-rayed.”

“No. It’s fine, Mapi.”

“It isn’t fine! It looks broken, nena, we need to get it looked at.”

“No. No doctors, no hospital, no x-ray.”

“Solstråle, I will call your sister if I need to. We are going to the doctor.”

A look of betrayal flashed across our face, and you held your arm tighter to your body in a protective manner. “Please don’t make me.” You whispered.

Harsh wasn’t working. Demanding wasn’t working. Mapi knew she couldn’t force you. She just had to convince you. She stepped closer, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You are scared, that’s okay. I’ll be with you the whole time, though, nena. Do you trust me?”

“Yeah.” You said, your voice cracking a bit, looking up at Mapi with wide, wet eyes.

“I promise you, I am not going to let anything happen to you.”

You considered for a moment. You knew, realistically, that you had to go in. And you also knew that Ingrid was probably going to be furious with you. You craved comfort from your sister, though, you needed to hear her voice, telling you that you were safe. Ingrid knew a bit more than Mapi did about your issue with doctors, even though she didn’t have the full story. Ingrid was safe, and so was Mapi, but you really just wanted your sister.

“Can I call Ingrid on the way there?”

And even though Mapi winced internally at mere thought of how upset this would make her girlfriend, she nodded. “Of course you can. Come on, let’s go.”

The care with which Mapi helped you down the stairs brought tears to your eyes. She put your shoes on for you, double knotting the laces like you always did, before she paused, crouched in front of where you sat on the bench by the front door.

“I promise you, Sol. I am not going to let anything happen to you. Okay? I’ve got you, kid.” She said, watching as you blinked hard, clenching your jaw and nodding.

“Yeah, thanks,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. Mapi helped you up, then, and you both exited the house.

Mapi dialed the phone in the car, connecting it to the speaker. Ingrid picked up on the first ring, almost like she knew something was wrong. “Hi mi amor,” she greeted warmly.

“Hola. We’re in the car, Sol is with me.”

“Hi solstråle,” Ingrid said.

“Hi,” you replied, not uttering another word.

“Tell her what happened, mi sol.” Mapi encouraged

“Tell me what? What happened?” Ingrid asked, her tone much more concerned and serious.

“I hurt my arm. We’re going to the doctor.” You mumbled. Ingrid sighed, but she got the feeling that this wasn’t the worst of what you had to tell her, that it was going to get worse.

“How? What’s wrong with it?”

“I was hiking and I fell. Mapi thinks it’s broken.”

“Broken…climbing… on the trail I told you to be careful on- wait, Sol that was yesterday. This happened yesterday!?” Ingrid shouted. “Why are you just taking her now, María?”

Mapi winced. “I didn’t know until now.”

“YOU DIDN’T TELL MAPI UNTIL NOW?” Ingrid yelled, so loudly that the speakers crackled slightly.

Mapi glanced over at you to see that there were tears pouring down your cheeks, and your bottom lip captured in between your teeth, as you tried valiantly not to cry. Shit.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Relax, let’s all just take a breath.” She soothed, turning to pull over on a side street.

“María, I will not relax, this is not oka-”

“Ingrid, stop.” Mapi said firmly, her voice more stern than you’d ever heard it. Ingrid fell silent. “Sol, breathe. Ingrid isn’t mad, she’s just worried. We are okay, everything is okay.”

You nodded frantically, trying to get a handle on your emotions, which were, frankly, overwhelming at the moment. “Sorry, I’m sorry Ingrid, I’m so sorry.” You sobbed.

Ingrid felt her heart shatter. She hadn’t meant to shout. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled, honey.”

“I just- the last time I hurt my arm mom didn’t believe me and you told me to be careful and I didn’t want you to be mad, and I didn’t know if you’d think I was lying, and I don’t want to go to the doctor, Ingrid, but Mapi is taking me and she says I have to, and-” you cut yourself off with another loud sob, before arms were reaching over the center console and wrapping around you.

“Shh, nena, it’s okay. You are safe, you are loved. You are okay.” Mapi whispered, loud enough that Ingrid could hear it over the phone. Tears were falling down her cheeks, too, for a combination of reasons. Mostly, though, because her girlfriend was being so absurdly sweet and patient with you. Not that María would ever be anything different, but Ingrid would never stop appreciating it.

Once you’d calmed down a bit, you leaned back away from Mapi, looking at her desperately. “María I really don’t want to go to the doctor, please don’t make me,” you begged. Even as everything in Mapi wanted to give in and take you home where you felt safe, her eyes flickered down to your arm, which was black and blue and swollen, and she knew that wasn’t an option. Before she could speak, though, Ingrid chimed in.

“Solstråle, switch the phone to a video call and let me see your arm.”

You did as she asked, fighting back another wave of tears when Ingrid’s face popped up on the screen, looking sympathetically at you. You held up your arm, holding back a groan of pain as you did so, not happy when Ingrid frowned at the sight.

“Sweetheart,”

“No,” you cried, hiding your face in the crook of your elbow. This was absurd. Your arm was clearly broken, you were 18 years old, and you were afraid of the doctor. Like a child. It was humiliating and you wanted nothing more than to pretend that this was fine, that you were fine going to get a few x-rays and a cast, but the feelings of anxiety and panic were only rising in you again, and your whole body shook at the thought of letting a doctor anywhere near your arm.

“I know, I know,” Ingrid whispered, sounding like she really did know. While your parents had always dismissed your fear of doctors as you being dramatic, ingrid had always been able to tell that you were completely and utterly terrified of going in for a check up, or going into the hospital. The pure horror in your eyes whenever you had to do so was proof enough, but she’d had to take you once, just to get your flu shot, and you’d silently cried the entire way to the office, thrown up in the bathroom upon arriving, and almost broke her hand with your strong grip while the shot was being administered.

You hadn’t always been like this, though. It had started when you were 10, and Ingrid had never known the reason. You’d never told her, and your parents hadn’t either.

“You’re scared, yes? Can you tell me what is making you so afraid?” Ingrid asked gently.

You took a few shuddering breaths before hesitantly looking at her on the screen. “When I broke my arm? They had to reset it because mom waited to take me to the doctor and the bones were in the wrong spot.

They told me they were going to put some ice on it and a bandage and then the nurses were holding me down and the doctor was forcing the bones back into place.”

You took a minute, trying to stop the incessant shakes that were running through your body at the memory. You jumped slightly when Mapi’s hand found your uninjured one, but you grabbed on tight, closing your eyes to finish your explanation.

“I cried and I screamed and mom told me to stop being dramatic, and that I was embarrassing her in front of all the doctors. They made her leave the room then, and it was just me and the doctor and the nurses. The bones didn’t go back right on the first try, and they had to do it two more times before it worked. Mom only came in when they were done and they were putting the cast on. I asked her if I could call you, and she said no, because you were too busy for me.”

It all made sense, now. Ingrid remembered coming back from international duty after you’d broken your arm. You’d seemed so depressed and withdrawn, and she’d assumed you were upset about the injury. Never could she have imagined what had gone on while she was gone.

“That is awful, nena. You did not deserve that, and I am so sorry that happened to you.” Mapi began, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “I understand why you’re scared. I promise you, though, I won’t let anyone touch you until you say it’s okay. They’ll tell you what they’re going to do before they do it, and I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Your sister could tell that you were slightly more convinced, now. You really trusted Mapi. She’d never given you a reason not to trust her.

“Solstråle, you really need to get it looked at. I’m sorry I’m not there, I’m sorry I wasn’t there the first time, but Mapi is going to take really good care of you, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed, another tear sliding down your cheek. Even as you did so, though, even as you gave Mapi permission to start the car and resume the drive to the hospital, you weren’t sure you could do this. You understood the importance of getting your arm taken care of, and you’d try. Whether you’d get through this hospital trip, though, was a different story.

--------

Mapi was relatively sure she was going to need an x-ray herself; you were holding her hand so tightly, your knuckles were white. You were shaking in the hospital bed, a vacant expression on your face.

You’d been sort of… despondent since returning from your x-ray. The doctors had insisted you go alone, and after some convincing, you’d agreed. When they walked you back into the room where Mapi was waiting, though, it was clear you were in another place. All she could do was wait for you to come back a bit.

“Mapi?” You said quietly, getting the attention of the Spaniard, who had been looking down at her phone, texting your sister.

“Sí nena?” Mapi replied, very gently squeezing your hand. You looked at her, then, making eye contact for the first time since returning from x-rays, and Mapi winced at the terror in your eyes.

“I don’t feel safe.” You whispered, unsure of what else you could do or say. You needed help, your fear was rapidly becoming overwhelming, especially because you knew that any minute, the doctor would be returning.

Mapi nodded sympathetically, reaching out with her free hand to push some hair off your forehead. She knew that physical touch was often the only thing that could comfort you when you were feeling anxious. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel more safe?”

“Promise you won’t leave? You won’t let them hurt me?”

“I will stay right here with you the whole time. And I will never let anyone hurt you.” Mapi looked at you with such conviction, spoke with such confidence and finality, you had no choice but to believe her.

“I want to go home.” You whimpered, your voice cracking.

“Soon, mi sol. Soon.”

It was only a few minutes later that the doctor returned. She was a kind woman, gentle and cautious. She had some understanding that you were afraid, and she’s respected that. She told you everything she was going to do before she did it, and she hadn’t once made you feel ridiculous for how you were acting.

“Alrighty. Got your x rays here. We’re looking at a bilateral forearm fracture, which means both the radius and the ulna are broken. The fractured are clean across, nothing is displaced which is good news for you; that means we can put the cast on, and nothing has to get put back into place.”

Mapi watched as your body practically deflated next to her, a long sigh of relief escaping your lips.

The doctor continued. “I am curious, though. Have you broken this arm before?”

You stiffened slightly, and Mapi shifted next to you, moving closer unconsciously in a protective manner.

“Yeah, when I was 10.”

The doctor nodded. “I can see it on the x-ray, there’s a line here, where it didn't heal exactly right. That white dot? You’ve developed a bit of a bone spur there where the bones weren’t properly aligned the first time. Does it give you pain?”

You shrugged. The relief was gone from your face, and you only looked defensive now. “Sometimes.”

Mapi guessed that sometimes meant often, and she wondered if you ever would have told her and Ingrid that you were having issues with your arm, if this hadn’t occurred.

“Well, the good news is your bones are not at risk for healing in the wrong spot, so you should avoid a repeat of the first injury complications. There are options, though, if that bone spur continues to give you issues. Physical therapy, steroid injections, and surgery are all on the table.”

You nodded, jaw clenched tightly shut. Mapi could tell this wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have, and she figured you’d been pushed far enough today.

“Thank you, very much. What is the recovery time like?” She said, effectively drawing the attention away from you as the conversation turned to casts and braces and slings.

You might as well have been in another room, for all you heard. You didn’t need to get the bones reset. Just a cast. You could handle that.

Or, you thought you could. It was much more stress-inducing than you expected, when the doctor came in with the items to make the cast, and reached for your arm. You flinched away from her violently, looking helplessly at Mapi. You were thinking about how she said she wouldn’t let anyone touch you if you didn’t want them to, and Mapi knew that.

“Can you give her a second, please?” Mapi said, not taking her eyes off of you as she slid into the hospital bed you were sitting upright in.

The doctor nodded, for her part lacking understanding, but not needing an explanation to respect that you were clearly terrified.

“Sol, breathe. It’s just the cast. They’re gonna put it on, they aren’t going to mess with your arm. You can do this, I know you can.” Mapi encouraged, more than a little surprised when you took a deep breath, nodded, and held your arm out to the doctor.You turned your head away, pressing your face into Mapi’s shoulder, gripping onto her shirt with your good hand.

You were putting all of your trust in Mapi in that moment, to ensure that the doctor was gentle and didn’t do anything she hadn’t said she would. This wasn’t lost on the Spaniard, and she watched closely as they wrapped your arm, and began applying the plaster.

She could feel your tears soaking through the fabric of her shirt, though you were completely silent as you cried. Not for the first time, and probably not for the last time, Mapi cursed your mother with everything in her. The woman had given her Ingrid, and you by extension, but she had inflicted so much pain on you in your short life. Mapi ached for the day where these scars weren’t painfully obvious, for the day you could go to the doctor without fear, ask for a hug when you needed one, cry openly when you were hurting, believe with all your heart that you were loved.

She held tight to you, watching as the doctor put the finishing touches on your cast.

“I’ve got you, nena.” She whispered. “Almost done.”

You were too good to have experienced everything that you had. She just wanted you to be happy.

When you pulled away from her to inspect your arm, she could still see such apprehension written clearly across your face. She wondered how long it would take for it to fully leave. Or if it ever would. Some scars never faded.

You gave her a watery smile, though, nodding towards the blue of your cast. “Couldn’t get it blaugrana but this is good too, right?” You joked.

Mapi returned your smile, feeling a very familiar spark of hope inside of her chest. Of course you would be okay. Of course you would. You were one of the strongest, most resilient people she knew.

“Very good. I am going to draw something so inappropriate on there before your sister gets home.”

You laughed, and Mapi laughed, both of you felt a bit like everything would be okay. Even if Ingrid scribbled over whatever Mapi drew on your cast.

-------

You sat blankly on the couch upon arriving home, staring at the cast your hand was wrapped in. You weren’t really sure what to do now, and it didn’t seem like Mapi knew, either. She took a seat next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into her.

“Talk to me, nena.” She encouraged.

“I just don’t feel good. I’m really tired.” You told her.

“It’s been a long day, your body is coming down from a lot of stress and anxiety. You’re okay, now, so let’s just lay on the couch and relax, sí?”

You agreed, shifting to move into your spot in the corner of the sectional, before you paused. “Can you stay with me?” You asked.

Mapi smiled at you. “Of course I can. Even if it means your damn dog is going to come lay on my legs and get fur all over my pants.”

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly, but you couldn’t give much of an argument because Scout jumped up on the couch right after, flopping down on your legs, making sure to stretch a leg out to rest on Mapi’s legs, too.

You dozed off relatively easily, clearly drained from a very emotionally and physically exhausting day, and Mapi took the opportunity to call her girlfriend, who she had been updating over text frequently, but who would still be, no doubt, beside herself with worry.

When Ingrid answered the phone, and only Mapi’s face appeared in view of the camera, Ingrid half convinced herself that you’d locked yourself in a room somewhere and were refusing to come out. Mapi shifted the camera, though, showing you absolutely passed out on the couch, your uninjured hand holding onto her arm, something you’d done completely in your sleep.

“Hey.” Mapi greeted. She didn’t worry about the volume of her voice; you could sleep through anything.

“Hi.” Ingrid said, feeling ridiculously emotional at the sight of her two favorite people together. “She’s okay?”

“Yeah. It was really hard for her, I’ve never seen her that anxious. They just put a cast on, though, and she’s relaxed enough now to rest. She was so exhausted, Ingrid, I’d be surprised if she slept at all last night.” Mapi paused as Ingrid hummed. The Norwegian could tell her girlfriend was upset, just from the way her mouth was set stiffly, and the way her eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“How are you doing my love? That must have been really hard to see.” She commented, studying Mapi’s expression closely.

The Spaniard just shrugged, though. “I am sorry this happened, I know how worried you must have been being so far away.”

Ingrid shook her head. “Don’t do that, don’t try to distract me. I want to know how you are doing.”

Mapi nibbled on her lip for a moment, her eyes everywhere but on the phone in front of her. “I am so sorry Ingrid.” She said finally, the phone dropping into her lap as she wiped impatiently at her eyes. Ingrid had to be furious with her. Had to be. This was all Mapi’s fault, after all.

Of course, Ingrid had never considered blaming Mapi, not for a single minute. “No, baby, this isn’t your fault.” She said, as if she’d read her girlfriends mind. Mapi could only scoff. “I’m serious, María. These things happen, it’s no one's fault.”

“She didn’t tell me. She didn’t trust me enough to tell me.” Mapi whispered.

Ingrid frowned. “No, she trusts you. It’s complicated with her, when she’s hurt. You heard what she said about when she broke her arm the first time. Her response to being hurt was completely based on that experience, it had nothing to do with you.”

Everything Ingrid said was so logical, Mapi had a hard time coming up with a counter argument. She wasn’t quite ready to forgive herself, though, so she changed the subject.

“You come home tomorrow.” She said, a small smile gracing her lips.

Ingrid let the very obvious subject change go in favor of smiling back at her girlfriend. “I do. I’ve missed you both so much.”

“I have to make sure to sign Sol’s cast before you get here.” Mapi said thoughtfully.

Ingrid grew pale at the thought. “No, María, whatever you are planning to put on there please, please don’t. Just write your name.”

“Oh, my name will be on there.” Mapi smirked.

Well, at least it didn’t seem like she was planning something explicit. “Leave room for me to sign too.” Ingrid said grumpily.

Mapi almost jumped when you chimed in from next to her, throat slightly scratchy. “Ingrid signs first. Those are the rules.” You mumbled, barely opening your eyes to address your sister when Mapi tilted the phone towards you.

“Ha!” Ingrid said, looking very pleased with herself.

Mapi wanted to argue, she really did. She knew, though, that Ingrid felt insecure about her relationship with you. You were a bit more open with Mapi, a bit more outwardly trusting. Mapi knew this was just because she normally had a much softer approach, though Ingrid’s tougher one was definitely necessary. She knew, too, that Ingrid worried a lot that you preferred Mapi to your sister. So, she let this one go.

“Fine. I don’t need to sign it. I’ve already got that number 4 tattooed on you.”

Ingrid paled. “No. No you didn’t. María Pilar León Cebrian, no you did not.”

“She did. It’s huge, on my right ass cheek.” Next to you, Mapi stifled her laughter, and you did your best to keep a straight face.

“You better be kidding. I swear to god if I get off that airplane and you have a four tattooed on your ass I will kill you both right there.”

“How are you going to check? Are you going to pants me in the airport?” You laughed.

“Solstråle,” Ingrid began, her teeth clenched.

“Relaaaax Ingrid. I don’t have any more tattoos,”

She let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god.”

“...Yet.” You added, laughing with Mapi when Ingrid brought the phone closer to her face.

“NO! No, Solstråle, no no no no no.”

You and Mapi laughed so hard you could barely breathe, hearing Ingrid repeating no over and over.

Ingrid rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t annoyed, not really. You were laughing and that was a big change from before. You were on the road to recovery, and you looked adorable all curled up next to Mapi, grinning at your sister through the phone. How could she be upset at your [stupid, idiotic, immature] joke?

Though she really would murder her girlfriend if you had another tattoo when she got home.

-------

this took me an absolutely absurd amount of time.

hope you enjoy sol <3

ps. please tell me all your sol thoughts comments keep me living and breathing 🫶🏻🫶🏻

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #platonic reader #🍓☀️

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ssahotchnerr · 1 year

Note

hello my sweet! been reading your stuff a lot lately and the way you write aaron is so beautiful and real but anyway i’ll stop gushing - imagine just EXISTING with aaron. like the both of you doing your evening routines and just being happy and safe in each others prescence like UNF I NEED HIM BIBLICALLY

also also imagine him using his height to tease u like knowing you always use a particular mug so he likes putting it on the top shelf so he can tower over you and press himself against your back under the pretense of “helping” like aaron you little slut we know what you’re trying to do and its mean😠 (do it again)

anyway ily lots and i hope you’ve had a good day n stuff

- Gem💙

routine and a tease

thank you so much my sweet ily!! hehe here's a thing including alllll of that cw; suggestiveness, allusions to sex, mentions of food, aaron being a lil shit <3 wc; 1k

aaron's alarm goes off at seven, yours at seven thirty.

you're notorious for hitting snooze, several times, while aaron promptly rises at the first ring. half the time, you're convinced he even beats his alarm most days.

aaron's finished showering by the time you drag yourself out of bed. steam's still coating the bathroom mirror, the air's a bit thick with the lingering heat, and it fogs into your bedroom. as you enter, he exits, but not without giving you your first kiss of the morning. you hop in the shower next, while aaron dresses and trails out.

being the first awake, aaron has the awakening the apartment duties. he pulls the curtains open, allowing the morning light to flood in. he grabs jack's backpack off the chair at the dining room table, quickly double checks that homework was completed, and that the papers in his folder are orderly and within easy access, according to jack's lesson schedule - science is first, then math, language arts, so on - and back into his backpack it goes. he then double checks to make sure his briefcase and go-bag has everything he needs, he'll retrieve his gun and badge when he heads out later.

aaron sets both by the door, as well as your bag. he knows everything is already prepared and ready to go - you won't go to bed the night prior if it's not. you've told him many times, as not an early riser, why add a reason to rush in the morning if you can help it?

being the first awake also has its advantages, especially when it comes to a certain game aaron is fond of playing. he'll never deny himself the opportunity to poke affectionate fun at you.

and he does so for the other benefit; it does tend you rile you up.

even this, is routine.

you enter the kitchen with a yawn - you passed aaron in the hallway, where he gave you your second kiss of the day, off to jack's room to get him up and at 'em.

aaron's already brewed the coffee, and your creamer is on the counter waiting for you. all you need to do is open the cabinet to retrieve your favorite cup.

it's a mug jack painted you, at one of those pottery and art studios in the city. it was one of your birthday surprises this past year, and it's the only mug you plan on using for the rest of time. you even have a matching plate, aaron's own doing when he accompanied jack at the studio.

no matter how many times aaron pulls the stunt, your reaction is always the same. your brows crumble at the absence - at the empty spot amongst the other mugs. where you had left it the night before after unloading the dishwasher, it's no longer there. and as expected it's on the very top shelf, way out of your reach.

"aaron," you whine, loudly enough it trails out of the kitchen and down the hall.

a moment later aaron enters, a mischievous, knowing glint in his eyes. he knows that whine, but doesn't address it, naturally. "good morning darling. sleep well?"

you narrow your eyes, playfully glaring at him as your arms crossed in front of you. despite your ministrations, a smile tugs at your lips, "i did. you?"

"mhmm." he presses his lips to yours. his eyes quickly flick up to the open cabinet, right to where your mug stands, but remains purposefully oblivious.

you continue to play along. "busy day ahead?"

aaron shrugs, grabbing his mug and pouring his helping. "nothing out of the ordinary. budget meeting, there's a few reports i have to finish, the usual."

you hum in response, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

aaron takes a sip of coffee, only to hide his itching smile. "is there something wrong?"

"is there?" you mock his cheeky tone, and your eyes narrow again. "somehow, my mug isn't where i left it."

"that's strange," aaron feigns confusion, his brows furrowing as his gaze moved upward. "all the way up there? wonder how that happened."

you scoff lightly, turning back to the cupboard. you leaned up on your tiptoes as you attempted to reach for it, anticipating his next move. "yeah, i wonder."

as you expected, aaron's front is suddenly flush against your back, fully crowding you, his mouth at your ear. "lemme help." his voice is low as he reaches up, retrieving your mug with ease. his other hand lands on the spot right above your ass, daring to move lower, and causing your breath to catch in your throat.

but, aaron withdrawals his hand the second he hears the soft breath escape you, grabbing the pot of coffee and pouring it into your mug himself.

mission successful, once again.

you exhale, deeply yet gently, heat filling your cheeks. it's days like these, you'll opt for iced coffee.

some rare mornings though, with jack at jess's and neither you or aaron have anywhere to be, his actions don't stop there. more often than not, the two of you don't even bother to leave the kitchen.

aaron leans up against the counter, silently watching you prepare your coffee to your liking, rather unenthusiastically at that. after your first sip, and another amused glare directed at him, you start pulling out the cereal for breakfast. aaron falls alongside you, beginning to pack jack's lunch - grabbing an uncrustable from the freezer, filling a ziploc of carrots, another of veggie straws.

again, your shared, usual routine.

you're the one to finally break the silence. "one of these days, i'm buying a step stool."

"no you won't," a laugh bursts from him as he grabs a juice box from the fridge, the loudness of it making you grin instantly. he straightens his posture as he stands back upright, a half smile, half smirk plastered on his face. "you enjoy this just as much as i do. even more."

he has you there, and from the expression your face pulls in response, he knows it. a laugh leaves him once more as he crowds you, backing you against the counter and pressing his lips to yours.

"this is the best part of the morning,'' aaron mumbles into your lips. "is it not?"

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x you

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trippinsorrows · 1 month

Text

looking through your eyes + ten

authors note: i think ya'll will be pleased with majority of this chapter. as far as the ending scene, let me know what ya'll think roman should do. i have it already planned, but i'm always so curious reading other perspectives. btw, they've been married almost four months, for context.

also, to those who want to know about the subplot of solana's bitch ass daddy plotting to kill roman....it's still a subplot. stay tuned.

passages from 'the courage to heal' do not belong to me.

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: violence against women, references to csa, character briefly discussing csa, fluff, angst, language, and suggestive themes

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist

words: 10k (no comment)

Learning to be intimate is rewarding, but it is not always comfortable. As one woman said, “I kept myself safe, but I also kept myself alone.” Becoming intimate means peeling back the layers of protection to let someone in. It means going to the place where you’re comfortable and then taking one step more. One step, not twenty.

Solana must read the passage at least half a dozen times, sitting with the words, meditating with them and doing her best to cope with the discomfort she’s experienced at various points while working her way through the book that’s brought an equal amount of questions as it has answers.

She knew right away going into this section, Healthy Intimacy, that it would most likely be the hardest chapter for her. But not even for the reasons that she initially thought, reasons that would have been the case before a certain Roman Reigns entered her life.

Every day that passes with him seems to bring about a new level of comfort, a new slice of happiness, a new type of contentment.

She enjoys talking with him and being around him. She looks forward to his meeting her at the end of work and struggles with endless worry when he doesn’t make it back home until the wee hours of the night.

His touch, whether that’s his hand on her back or both hands on her waist as he holds her against him, no longer triggers an automatic tense, uncomfortable feeling. Somewhere along the way, the need to identify his touch as ‘safe’ waned and was replaced with an automatic knowing. Like she knows that it’s okay for him to touch her, because she’s safe. Because she’s safe with him.

That, along with her continued and also growing attraction, has caused her to think more and more what it could be like to be with someone in that way. The thoughts have been fleeting, far and few over the years, typically followed up with abject horror. But lately….lately she’s been less and less scared and more and more hopeful.

Optimistic that maybe….just maybe, she could one day know what that’s like. To have that experience in a healthy and non-traumatic way with a safe person. With someone who truly desires her in said healthy way.

Someone….someone like Roman.

It’s scary and terrifying and exciting and nerve racking and moving and every other emotion to exist, but on top of all that, for the first time in her life, it’s a possibility for Solana.

And she wants to take that chance, even if doesn’t work out, even if it’s not what she thought it would be. To be able to say she at least tried, to say that she overcame her fears…it would be monumental.

It would feel like the breaking of mental and emotional chains.

And it starts today.

Closing up the book, Solana untangles her legs and marks her spot in her book. She gives Dulce a light pat on the head and walks into the bathroom. Opening up the drawer, her eyes land on the pair of scissors. Nothing fancy. Just a pair of regular scissors.

Solana takes a deep breath and grabs them.

Using one hand to let down her hair from the messy, half-effort bun, she gives her head a good shake. Once, twice, and then a third time. For a brief second, she hesitates, her father’s constant belittling returning to the surface.

“You don’t need short hair. You’ll look even fatter with it.”

Solana shuts her eyes as she thinks of all the times Roman has called her beautiful, has made her feel beautiful. The endless support from Bayley and Naomi. The borderline inappropriate comments form the twins almost every time she sees them.

It all brings an emotional smile to her face as she takes another deep breath.

One step, not twenty.

And she cuts.

________

Samantha can count on one hand in all of the years that she’s known Roman Reigns the times that he’s surprised her with a visit.

Zero.

He’s always always given her a heads up for his arrival or plans to visit, solely for the mere fact that Roman is a man who doesn’t like to wait. When he wants pussy, he wants it then and now. And she’s never been one to deny the Head of the Table anything he’s ever asked for.

So when she finds him sitting at her desk, feet propped up with an unreadable expression, it takes her off guard.

Only for a minute.

“I knew it was only a matter of time.” Samantha is quick to kick the door shut behind her, locking it right as she tosses her purse on the nearby chair. “You can’t go too long without me.” This fact alone is enough to make her cum right then and there. The fact that even with his roster of women he rotates through, she remains number one.

Roman knows where it’s at.

And him coming to her, at her job of all places, just proves it.

Eye dropping to his crotch, she licks her lips at the thought of that thick, beautiful dick in her mouth. Fuck, she’s salivating at just the thought. “You want me on my knees, daddy?”

Samantha starts to kick her shoes off when he finally breaks the silence.

“I want to know what you said to my wife.”

Samantha’s smile drops in under a millisecond. Instantly, she’s scowling. “What?”

Roman doesn’t hesitate to repeat himself, every word perfectly enunciated with his heavy, baritone voice. “What did you say to my wife, Samantha?”

This….this isn’t how she was expecting this to play out, and it shows in the sudden stuttering, “I—I don’t—”

“She came back from that bathroom upset, and I don’t like seeing her upset, so I’m only gonna ask you one more time—” Samantha nearly jumps back into the door when he suddenly bangs his fist on her wooden desk and growls, “what did you say to her!”

Stammering, she answers with a combination of fear and desperation, “I just—I told her the truth.”

It seems to be the wrong answer, as Roman looks 5x angrier. “And what the fuck is that?”

Samantha gathers herself a little better, voice more even as she answers with misplaced confidence. “That she could never please you. Not how I can.” And with foolish bravery, Samantha steps toward him. “That you’ll always come back to me.”

“You fucking bitch.”

That makes her still with her movements. He’s called her all kinds of names when they’ve fucked, and she’s loved it, loves being fucked hard and rough, his preference. But there’s something about this that she doesn’t love.

It’s because he sounds legitimately upset with her.

And that, in turn, upsets her, because he cannot seriously be upset that she said some shit to that little girl.

“Why does it matter? It’s not like she means anything to you.” Samantha has to actually laugh. In no universe can she see someone as strong and powerful as Roman caring about a girl like that. But, it’s when he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t voice some type of agreement that her confidence dwindles a bit. “R–right?” Still, nothing. And it’s with that nothing she realizes with all of the anger and shock in the world why he’s so upset.

“Oh my god. Are you serious right now? Her? You really have feelings for her?” Even saying it aloud sounds ludicrous. “What the fuck, Roman? What the hell is so great about her?”

There is absolutely nothing that girl brings to the table for her to have someone like Roman Reigns interested in her. It doesn’t make any goddamn sense. What the hell is attractive about a scarred, sliced up, fat bitch?

He finally speaks, warning her in an almost menacing tone. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

“That girl is weak, Roman. You can’t be the head of the Bloodline and have someone like her at your side. She doesn’t deserve it.” By now, Samantha has moved over to him, her hands planted on his chest, his eyes closed. “You need….someone strong at your side. Look at what you’ve done just by yourself. Imagine…imagine having a queen to rule with you.” She licks her lips, going in for the kill. “I can be that for you. I can give you an heir. Look at how long it’s been and still nothing, no baby. She’s broken, Roman. That bitch—”

Samantha is silenced by him jumping up from his chair as he shoves her against the wall, hand on her neck. It’s not the first time they’ve been in a similar position. She loves to be choked during sex, and he’s adept at doing just enough to get her off without her passing out.

But this time, there’s no pressure, no sexual aspect, no foreplay.

This….this is different.

Because this is the first time she’s ever actually been afraid of him.

“If you ever in your fucking life speak on her again, I’ll kill you.” Samantha’s eyes are wide, hand grasping at his. He’s still not actually applying any sort of pressure, probably more so placement to evoke a level of fear. A reminder that he could end her life in a matter of seconds if that’s what he wanted. “If you ever speak to her again, I’ll kill you. Fucking look at her, and you’re a dead bitch.”

Samantha barely has time to process his threats when he says something in Samoan and steps back, releasing her as she dubs over and gasps loudly from the shock of it all.

Seconds later, she’s on the floor, laying on her side after fucking Nia has landed her big ass foot in Samantha’s head.

Nia is looking down with a wicked smile that promises a level of pain. “You talk too fucking much.” She can’t tell if it’s directed to herself or Roman, regardless, he looks unbothered, outside of staring down at her with disgust.

Samantha has no idea where the hell that bitch came from, but her unexpected blow nearly has her seeing stars. She’s writhing on the floor, on her side, cradling her head when Nia yanks her up by her extensions.

“Oh, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” Nia kicks her a second time, in her side, and Samantha is almost certain she heard the subsequent cracking of her rib from the impact. Tears fill her eyes. “I’ve wanted to kick your ass since we were kids.”

Helpless and feeling so confused as to how he could do this to her, Samantha sets her teary gaze onto him. She does her best to generate as many tears as she can. “Roman, please—”

“You’re fucking delusional if you really thought I would ever make you anything more than what you were to me.” Samantha sniffles, vision blurred and stomach aching from both the physical and emotional impact of his words. “Nothing.”

A sudden anger fills her, meshing with the growing physical pain. She did this. That fucking bitch has taken Roman from her, her Roman.

“You wanna know what she is to me?” He crouches down and reaches for a lock of her hair, answering just as icily as the disgusted look in his light brown eyes. “Everything you’re not.”

Samantha snarls almost, not even angry at his words as much as her mind is trying to navigate any and all ways to make that little troll pay for this. Pay for stealing her man.

But it’s as Roman is walking out, that he barks his last order to Nia. Not necessarily a necessity given the fact that he’s certain she’s dreamed exactly of how this very moment could and should go down. Granted, this is the one symbolic thing he needs to ensure takes place.

“Break her fucking jaw.”

________

Handling the Samantha situation is just one of many things to be checked off of Roman’s to-do list for today. He’s got meetings, contracts to review, spreadsheets to update, shipments to see sent off, and a million and one other things. Most of which he’s far from thrilled about but also know needs to be done, regardless if he’d rather say fuck it all just for today. For just a couple hours, even.

Delegate, perhaps. But these are things that can’t be delegated. He, as the Head of the Table, needs to put his signature on to make it official.

And he’s got his Wise Man fresh on his heel to remind him of such responsibilities.

“And if my Tribal Chief can find it in him, we should also review Nick Aldis' proposal.” Roman’s instantly scowling. He fucking hates Aldis. The bastard is smug and thinks himself more important than he is. That Roman won’t end his fucking life with one snap of his finger.

Roman is halfway listening to Paul when he walks past Alicia who stands up from her desk. “Sir—”

His dismissal is swift and brusque. “Leave me alone.”

“But—”

One murderous look, and Alicia is back in her seat. Roman briefly overhears Paul chastising his secretary for her insubordination when he opens his door and immediately realizes why Alicia was most likely trying to speak to him.

Roman sees Solo standing almost awkwardly in the corner out of his peripheral vision, but his attention is solely on the other unexpected guest.

Focused on the way her almost flesh toned dress hugs every curve that drives him fucking insane sometimes, the way she bites down on her bottom lip in that way he’s learned she does when she’s unsure of something. And he’s especially focused on her hair that’s chopped down to where it lightly grazes her shoulder.

“I tell you, good help is so hard to find—” Paul is silenced as he finally walks in and sees Solana. “Oh, it’s you.” Roman shoots him a look that would absolutely kill if it had any sort of physical impact. “I mean, Solana, what a surprise—”

Roman easily moves back to focusing on his wife who looks absolutely fucking stunning. He directs his command though to Solo and Paul. “You two, out.”

Solo doesn’t need to be told twice, but Paul seems to meander, even as Roman walks over to Solana. And it’s when Roman has his hands on Solana’s hips and the room is still not cleared, he repeats in a calm voice that’s solely because of Solana’s presence.

If not for her, he’d be screaming at his Wise Man.

“I said get out.”

Roman can practically hear the nervous gulp. “But, sir, we have work—”

Solana frowning pisses Roman off in a way he has to keep from showing. But it’s when she finally speaks and it’s an offer to leave that he really has to reel in his rage. “I can go—”

“No.” That’s the fucking last thing he wants. “Paul is leaving.”

It’s not a suggestion, not a request, not a preferred action.

It’s a fucking demand.

And his Wise Man must realize this, because he’s quickly following in line with Solo and finally leaving Roman alone with Solana who seems still unsure about her presence.

“You have work to do—”

“You really expect me to get anything done when you come in my office looking like this?” He motions to her outfit and sees the way her cheeks tinge reddish as she bites back a smile. “Not happening, sweetheart.”

“I thought it looked nice.” The bashful way she says as such, as if she’s unsure it was an accurate assessment blows his mind. She looks down at the dress as if it’s not the woman wearing said dress that has him pushing back unholy thoughts.

“It doesn’t look nice. You look nice, Solana.” Another one over of her curvy body, and he mutters, “more than nice.” He brings his hand to her hair, brushing his fingers against the ends. “You cut your hair.”

She nods, an almost look of determination in her soft expression. “It was time,” is all she says, and Roman doesn’t need to ask for clarification. This meant something to her. Cutting her hair has a deeper meaning than just wanting something new, and whatever the reason, he’s proud she found it in her to follow through.

He hates when she asks him, still unsure, “does it…does it look bad?”

He’s not sure he could ever use Solana and ‘bad’ in the same sentence. Ever. “You could never look bad.”

She smiles, clearly pleased by his compliment. Good. He likes seeing her smile.

“Come here.” Roman takes her hand and leads her over to his desk where he sits down in his chair and doesn’t think twice about guiding her onto his lap. Roman feels her tense for only a couple seconds before she relaxes against him.

“As pleasant a surprise it is to find your fine ass in my office, I know you came for a reason.”

Roman is extremely perceptive. Always has been. He’s noticed the increased comfort Solana has developed and continued to develop with him. The way her discomfort at being looked at too long or even touched in any sort of capacity has shifted into bashful smiles and an almost light in her eyes at being complimented. At someone finding her to be anything but every lie she’s ever been fed.

Her confidence is growing, slowly but surely. And he likes that shit.

So he’ll do whatever he needs to do to keep it growing.

“It’s nothing serious.” It doesn’t have to be. She could come to his office every day if that’s what she wanted. He’d have zero complaints. “I just…I was baking Sopaipillas, and I know you like them and I felt bad because I’m bringing Jimmy and Jey some—”

It’s not until that moment he sees the Tupperware container on his desk. Her thoughtfulness is so unfamiliar but very much appreciated. He chuckles as his fingers carefully tap against her hip. “Thank you, but you know if you keep feeding they asses, they gon’ keep coming over.”

She’s smiling almost, defending them to a certain extent. “They’re really not that bad.” And she’s not entirely wrong. His cousins can be entertaining at times, but beyond that, he likes seeing her comfort level with them increasing as well.

For her to be as comfortable around them as she’s become, especially with them being men, is extremely significant given her trauma.

He’s proud of her for that just as well.

Still,Roman shrugs and calmly points out. “I spend most of my day with them.” Her other hand lays on his chest as he admits, “I don’t want to come home and see them. I just want to see you.”

Solana gives an expected almost shocked expression followed up with a slight confession of her own. Her voice is soft, like she’s unsure about what she’s about to say but is going with it regardless. “That’s why I wait up for you to get home…because I want to see you too.”

He believes this to be true, but he also knows there’s something else to it. “You worry about me.”

She nods, nervously licking her lips. “I’m trying to work on it though.” She’s been working on a lot of things, a lot of difficult, most likely mentally taxing things. And as proud of her as he is, Roman also recognizes the importance of pacing oneself.

He gently grazes the back of his fingers over her cheek. “Just focus on you, alright?”

The corner of her lips lift into an almost playful grin as she asks innocently, “what if I can do both?” Roman studies her, sees and hears the playfulness. It’s unlike her, but he fucking loves it. She squeals and almost giggles against him as he brings her closer to his chest, her hand squeezing his shoulder as he remains mindful of the placement of his hand on her hip.

Growing comfort or not, he still wants to be respectful of her boundaries.

Still wants to maintain her trust.

“I got me. Always.” Her gaze is on him, softening by the second as he adds on almost quietly. “Just need you to be okay too.”

Okay is such a big word, so layered. She’s not sure she’ll ever be fully okay. Too much trauma. Never enough healing. But there may be some level of okayness she can achieve, and it does feel like that’s something that’s in progress. “I’m getting there.”

And a large part of her healing journey is largely due to the man underneath her, staring at her with almost a sense of fascination, like he’s so enraptured by her. Like he’s smitten with her. The person she once believed no one could ever want has a handsome, powerful man like Roman Reigns holding her, looking at her, wanting her.

A line from the book resurfaces to the front of her mind.

One step, not twenty.

With that as a motivating and supportive mantra, she slowly moves her hand from his shoulder to his face, his beard prickling against her skin.

“Solana…..” She’s not sure she’s ever heard him sound so pained. “Baby, you can’t touch me like this and expect me to not want to kiss you.”

The butterflies in her stomach grow exponentially. Baby. She’s not entirely certain, but she feels like he’s called her this before, that he’s referred to her as such on a different occasion. So, it’s not a mistake, not a one time thing. It’s yet another sign that there wasn’t a dishonest bone in his body when he said he wanted her.

That he wants her.

Her heart is beating a mile a minute as she pools together all of the courage in her body and again chips away another tiny section of her wall of protection. “So kiss me.”

It’s not until this moment that Solana sees Roman actually appear genuinely surprised at something. He asks, maybe as if he needs to make sure he heard correctly, but Solana would bet it’s less that and more him ensuring consent. “Are you sure?”

He’s been so good at that. Consent. And it’s meant the world to her. His patience with all of her baggage.

Nodding, she quickly remembers his preference for verbal acknowledgements. “Yes.”

Solana doesn’t really remember her kiss with Roman at their wedding. She doesn’t really remember much from the actual wedding at all, to be honest. It was….it was more traumatic than anything, which is why she does her best to keep it stored away with the other too difficult to sit on memories.

But this….this she is certain she will never forget.

There’s an almost hesitancy when his lips touch hers, a space he’s leaving open in the event that she changes her mind. She’s grateful for that, but it’s not necessary. Her ‘yes’ was as genuine as his apparent interest in her.

And when he picks this up, picks up the fact that she truly wants this, he deepens the kiss, his hand moving up to her lower back as he pulls her closer to him. Roman’s full lips are soft and warm, and the way he moves his mouth against hers is both reserved and hungry, a strange but well balanced thing only he can manage. Like only he can achieve. He kisses her with a passion that she feels is only a fraction of everything he feels toward and for her.

Solana’s hand slides to the back of his neck, her fingers brushing up and across the skin, teasing the strings of hair that refused to mold down. She’s not sure if this was the right move because he makes a sound against her mouth, an almost mixture of a moan and groan, and pulls away. The separation and her subsequent light panting makes her suddenly aware that they’d been kissing longer than she realized. That she’d gotten so plunged in the experience that time seemed a nonfactor.

Her eyes flutter close when Roman brings his lips back onto her, this time peppering kisses along her jawline. Her head tilts back, an unconscious thing that grants him full access to the nape of her neck, which he easily makes his way down to. It’s a different, pleasant sensation that has her nails scraping against him.

“Roman….”

“So fuckin’ beautiful….” He says something else, something she can’t understand because it’s said in Samoan, but it unintentionally triggers something for her. A new level of bravery, an ability to ask something that makes her insides light afire and heart rate exceed what’s probably safe and healthy. But, it’s a hill she wants to eventually be able to get up and over.

And he’s made her feel safe enough to be the one to do it with.

“Roman.” Her voice must give away her need to say something because he pulls away from her and is focused directly on her. She licks her slightly swollen lips. “I want….I want to try—”

“Whatchu mean he busy? Man, you trippin. Uce always got time for family.” Jimmy’s loud unexpected voice is enough of a disruption and mood killer that Solana quickly jumps off Roman’s lap and moves away just enough to adjust her hair and dress. “Soso!”

Solana brings herself to look at her husband’s cousin as he finally walks in the office after dismissing Alicia’s warning. The first thing she notices is the tupperware bowl in his hand and white substance on his fingers. “I hope you don’t mind. When I saw your driver, I figured you had these little sugar things in the back so I just grabbed em’ all.”

If not for the fact that Solana is still trying to settle herself, she’d point out how the other bowl was supposed to be for Jey. But that seems irrelevant at the moment.

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Jimmy seems completely unbothered by Roman’s threat as he plops down on the sofa, kicking his feet up on the glass coffee table and asks with all the obliviousness in the world. “So what ya’ll doing?”

When Roman shoots up from his desk and starts toward his cousin, Solana places herself in front of him, hands on his chest. His attention is immediately down, focused once again on her.

“It’s okay. I—I’ve got training with Bay and Naomi anyway.” Swallowing her nerves and pushing back thoughts of how….how nice it felt kissing him, she quietly offers a hopefully acceptable alternative. “We can talk tonight.”

This doesn’t seem like Roman’s preference but something he can live with. “Fine.”

She knows he’s obviously annoyed at being interrupted, and she is too, to a certain extent. But, Jimmy meant no harm, and she hopes Roman can at least recognize as much. Solana says bye to Jimmy and is near the door where she sees Solo waiting for her when an idea, more an urge, becomes too prominent to push away.

She turns back around and leans up, pulling Roman down by his shoulders and kisses his cheek. He gives her a look that tells her he’d be pulling her back for more if not for her cousin, and it makes her stomach somersault all over again.

But, she doesn’t give him the opportunity, just a small smile as she walks out for good this time.

And it’s after she’s gone, the Wise Man back in the room to help minimize the chances of his Tribal Chief killing one of his cousins that Jimmy uses the distraction to pull out his phone and send a text in the group chat.

Group Chat: Operation RoSo

Jimmy: Ya’ll! Code red! Code fucking red!

Jey:?????????

Bayley: Is Solana okay?!

Naomi: ^^^^^^

Jimmy: Man, I just got to Uce office, and good thing I walked in when I did. They acting all weird and shit. Soso just ran out of here but not after telling him they’ll ‘talk’ tonight!!!!

Jey: I’m too high for this shit right now.

Naomi: Babe, how exactly is that a code red???

Jimmy: They was obviously arguing before I got here! And ‘talking’ tonight??? That ain’t nothing but part two!

Bayley: Jimmy, that seems like a bit of a stretch.

Jey: A big ass stretch. Man, leave them two alone.

Jimmy: Naw. We gotta expedite this plan. I can see the writing on the wall. If we don’t move fast, they never gon fall in love. They might even be starting to hate each other now!

Bayley: Now you’re just being dramatic.

Jey: Agreed. How I get out this chat?

Jimmy: I don’t wanna hear it! I’m the master strategist so let me do my thing!

Jimmy: Babe. You and Bayley have SoSo all done up and nice this evening. Make her think ya’ll are going out or something.

Naomi: Why?

Jimmy: Damnit woman, because I said so!

Naomi: 🫤

Naomi: I’m trying to figure out who the fuck you think you talking to. Don’t get your ass beat.

Jey: I’m muting this shit. Ya’ll not gon get me killed. Roman don’t like people in his business.

Jimmy: Just have her ready, and I’ll text you the location and the time she needs to be there.

Jimmy: We gotta save RoSo from themselves!

________

Solana misses the blow from Naomi by only a fraction of a second, but before she has time to think about it, another one is coming, forcing Solana to quickly jump to the side.

“Nice,” Naomi compliments. “Try more offensive positions though. Try to hit me.”

Solana knew that was coming, knew that Naomi would be pushing her today, as she has the last couple times. It only makes sense. Solana recognizes that she’s improving, that she has improved a lot since she started. It seems only natural that Naomi would continue to push her to further the progression of her skills.

“Don’t be afraid, Solana! Naomi can take it,” Bayley encourages from the sidelines, drinking some of her Gatorade.

Solana does her best to not get too distracted, knowing that can be quite literally fatal if this was a real situation.

Naomi lunges at her again, and Solana manages to block it with her forearm but also lifts her foot, managing to kick Naomi away.

“Nice!” It’s such a weird thing to be applauded for. “But remember to retract your foot faster next time. I could have twisted it and grounded you.”

Solana commits that to memory just as Naomi steps back and Bayley walks back over. She then compliments, “I know I said it already, but the haircut looks amazing on you.” She quickly adds in a manner that’s more telling than asking. “Just have to even some areas off.”

Solana half smiles. She expected Bayley to need to go in with actual shears to shape up some areas given the fact that Solana’s impromptu haircut was literally just her taking some regular scissors and chopping at least five inches off.

But before Solana can say anything else, she sees why Bayley ended her break to get back into the training.

It’s evident by the knife in her outstretched hand.

“This is a Benchmade Bailout. It’s a folding knife. A little bigger than what we’d like you to carry on you, but a good place to start.”

Carrying….Solana hadn’t even allowed herself to think about that part. Of course they’d want her to start keeping a knife on her once teaching her how to use one.

Naomi then advises, “we’re not gonna do any fight training with it today, but we do want you to get used to the feel and weight of it.”

Solana can feel her heartbeat increasing. She can’t remember the last time, if ever, she’s held a knife of this nature. Her left hand is against her shorts, tapping against the spandex, a continued nervous habit.

Bayley sees this and offers assurance. “It’s okay. We just want to go over the basics.”

Solana does her best to focus not on the past, but the present. The here and now. Another recommendation from her book. She also strangely remembers the countless times Roman has asserted he won’t let anything happen to her.

“I’ve got you.”

The safe feeling she has when he’s around. He’s not physically present, but the recollection of his words anchor her.

Taking a deep breath, Solana takes the knife from Bayley, its coolness taking her by surprise. She never takes her eyes off the blade.

Meanwhile, Naomi goes into basic tips and information. “Right off the bat, if you ever need to use it to defend yourself, go for the major arteries.” She then begins pointing to the various body parts as she lists them off. “The neck, stomach, chest area namely. It’s your best bet at getting someone almost entirely immobilized.”

“And this might be graphic, but don’t be afraid to go for it twice. Sometimes people can still be standing with just one hit.” Solana is grateful for the fact that Bayley is trying to be careful with her words, vague to a certain extent but clear enough so she can understand.

“If you just wanna get them away and not potentially kill them, maybe go for the hand or foot, depending on how they’ve got you pinned.”

“But by the time we finish your training, no one will get the chance to pin you.” Naomi gives a comforting smile and squeeze of her shoulder. “Not to mention Roman would never let you be in that position in the first place.”

Solana doesn’t doubt that one bit.

Bayley suddenly clears her throat, almost awkwardly.

Solana frowns, looking lost by the otherwise random in interjection. “What?”

“We’re not supposed to tell you, but Roman is taking you out to dinner tonight.” Naomi’s answer is appreciated, but it doesn’t make sense.

“He what?” Solana is confused because she literally just saw Roman this morning and came straight from his office to the Warehouse to train without him mentioning a word of this. “He didn’t say anything to me.”

“It’s supposed to be a surprise,” Bayley adds, but there’s something almost unsure about her answer. “So, I’ll take you to my salon afterwards to touch up your hair now, and then we can also figure out glam while you’re there.”

“Yes.” Naomi claps and carefully removes the knife from Solana. The knife she completely forgot she was holding. Naomi comments on that. “See? You forgot about it for a minute, didn’t you?” Solana nods. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you there.”

The encouragement means the world to Solana as she offers a quiet but meaningful, “thank you.” They’ll never know how much their support means to her.

Ever.

Bayley comes and stands beside Solana, sliding her arm around her with that infamous sly smile.”You never have to thank us for being your friends, Solana.” Words have never hit so deeply, Solana having to hold back tears. Friends. “Now let’s figure out what the slay is gonna be for tonight.”

________

The minute Solana walks into the restaurant, she realizes that something is off.

And not even in a dangerous sort of way, more so, there’s something she’s not being told sort of way.

It’s a beautiful upscale restaurant that has decor that probably costs more than some people’s mortgage payment.

But it’s barren. Not a customer in sight.

Walking up the three steps that lead to a higher level, she looks around, confused as to the fact that a restaurant that probably requires reservations six months in advance is vacant.

Digging in her small purse, she pulls out her phone to text Roman. Bayley and Naomi encouraged her to continue to play dumb, but this isn’t right.

She needs to talk to him.

“Solana?”

Her head snaps up to see Roman who also just walked up the same steps she did minutes prior.

“Roman?”

He seems surprised to see her, an unexpected expression for someone who allegedly planned this dinner. “I—I don’t know what’s going on.” He walks over to her as she explains. “I was told—”

“Probably the same thing I was told,” he finishes for her and takes in her appearance, Solana’s hands smoothing over her dress. Looking just as captivated as he’d looked at her this morning in his office, Roman ghosts the back of his hand against her cheek. “Sei uno splendore….”

She hasn’t a clue what he’s said, but something tells her it’s a compliment of some sort. Still, Solana asks with that same bashful smile that seems to always fall on her face when she’s around him, “are you gonna tell me what you just said?”

Roman winks and answers, plain and simple, “naw.”

Smiling even harder, before she can say anything else, another voice enters the conversation.

“Soso, girl, what you doing here?”

Both Solana and Roman turn to a smiling Jimmy who's wearing a poorly feigned look of surprise.

“Jimmy?” Solana is genuinely confused while Roman looks like he’s genuinely considering murdering his cousin for the second time today. “What—what are you doing here?”

Roman is completely uninterested in the why and more so on the how he’s going to end the other man. “I’m going to fucking kill him, Solana. I don’t care anymore.”

Jimmy completely ignores Roman and answers her question with an answer that makes no sense. “Ahh, you know, I was in the neighborhood.”

He gives Solana a side hug as she answers his question as well, hoping to avoid witnessing a familial crime. “Bayley and Naomi told me—”

“You know what, it don’t even matter. You here. Big Dog here.” He gestures around them. “Looks like this nice ass restaurant has been rented out by some coincidence. Might as well enjoy a nice dinner.”

Roman closes his eyes, seemingly trying to count off. “I’m literally going to snap your fucking neck if you don’t get lost. Now.”

Solana moves over to Roman just enough for him to reach and gently tug her into him. He doesn’t need to be getting this upset. She naturally lays her head against his chest, fingers grasping the sides of his shirt.

Jimmy lifts his hands in a surrender manner. “Hey. I can tell when I’m not wanted.” Solana smiles at the look she can imagine on Roman’s face at that. “Ya’ll be safe now. Soso, I’ll be at the crib in the morning for breakfast.”

“Why the fuc—”

Solana reaches up and redirects his focus onto her. “It’s okay.” Solana looks over at the table that’s beautifully decorated with a stunning centerpiece. “It’s….it’s sweet.” Her diversion also, thankfully, a long enough distraction for Jimmy to depart, leaving the two of them alone.

Her preference.

Roman’s as well, clearly.

Solana then takes in the situation, a little relieved to finally know what’s going on. It’s obvious she was set up. Roman too. But regardless of the deception, it’s deeply appreciated. Her friends going to such lengths to set up something nice like this.

Roman, calming down a bit, doesn’t necessarily disagree with her, but instead asserts, “they’re interfering, and I don’t like that shit.”

Her smile dims a bit as she offers, “we can leave—”

“No.” He shoots it down immediately, hands on her hips. “Just hate that I finally get time alone with you, and it’s because of fucking Jimmy.” Her eyes shut when he kisses her forehead and murmurs, “been thinking’ bout you all day…”

And the smile is back as she takes his hand and leads him toward the table, Roman pulling her chair out for her.

Having the restaurant entirely rented out is a luxury she’s not used to but appreciates, especially with how catered the service is as well as the fact that they don’t have to wait long for the food. Conversation flows easy between them, more Roman asking questions about how she’s doing, if she needs anything.

He’s always so attentive, and she’s so grateful for that.

Grateful for him.

It’s the same type of attentiveness that causes her to comment after the waiter comes and takes their plates, clearing the table. “You seem stressed.”

And not just because of the date setup.

He shrugs, partially dismissing but not outright denying. “Just a long day.”

It seems to be a recurring theme with him. Solana has noticed for a while now how his early days always bleed into late evenings that sometimes spill over to the next day. It doesn’t seem sustainable to her. “You have a lot of those.”

“I’m the Tribal Chief.” He says it with pride, as he should, but there’s something else there. Something she can’t outright identify. “Comes with the territory.”

And Solana recognizes as such, but as large of a man Roman is—in many different ways—he’s still just a man. “Is it ever too much?” She crosses her arms across the table, leaning forward almost. There may be no other attendees present, but there are still workers, so she’s mindful of her volume. “I mean….”

“Do I ever get exhausted?” She nods. “Sure.” That wasn’t the answer she was expecting. Roman does such an excellent job always wearing that mask of calm, cool, and collected. Outside of his obvious temper, he’s always so well put together. It’s something she envies, to a certain extent. “But someone’s gotta do it, and as it’s my birthright, the responsibility falls on me.”

She sits on his words, understanding where he’s coming from but also wondering just how he manages such a weight. She knows he’d headed the Bloodline for some time now, since he was 18 years old. That’s a large burden to carry at such a young age and for him to do it so long and as well as he has, it’s impressive.

He certainly lives up to his reputation.

Solana nods and does her best to ease into what she’d really like to tell him, to have him know even if he never in life takes her up on it. “You always say that I can talk to you…”

Roman doesn’t hesitate to reaffirm it too. “You can.”

She knows this. He’s….he’s made it abundantly clear that he wants to speak with her, to know what’s on her mind. “That goes both ways.” Something speedily flashes in his eyes, briefly affecting his otherwise neutral expression. “You can talk to me too.”

For a second, she regrets saying anything, regrets second guessing his abilities to handle things. The last thing she wants is to insinuate he’s somehow incapable of taking care of business. But, if he’s insulted by her offer, he doesn’t show it, just says a simple, “thank you.” She offers a small nod when he seemingly changes the subject. “How’s training?”

There’s a bit of a sting at what feels like a slight form of rejection, but she understands better than anyone that opening up can be hard, so she respects his wishes.

“Good. I….I think I like it.” It’s the truth. While initially terrified of being put into such a foreign situation, Solana has found herself growing increasingly content with this new part of her weekly routine. Training has assisted, to a great extent, in her growing confidence and surety with herself. There’s something comforting about learning how to defend herself, how to keep herself safe. “Today was a little hard though. They’re teaching me how to fight with knives. It’s…..uncomfortable, but that’s how I know I need to do it.”

If there’s anything she’s learned in the past couple months, it’s that nothing about working to overcome trauma is easy. That doesn’t, however, make it any less important.

Or beneficial.

“Not if you absolutely don’t want to.” To be fair, Roman wasn’t even informed that this was something the girls were starting with Solana. He makes a mental note to remind them that while they handle her training, the specifics of what she’s taught needs to be run by him at all times. He probably would have shot down the knife training.

Solana was literally present and witnessed her mother be stabbed to death. Solana herself was also stabbed.

That seems almost cruel to make her learn how to wield the very weapon that took so much from her.

“Wes used to use knives to hurt me.” It comes out more quiet than she intended, a natural effect of sharing something so painful. She points to a small scar on her neck, the exact date and nature of how it happened, something she’ll never forget but has little desire to elaborate on.

“And I know….I know you won’t let him hurt me anymore, but….I don’t want him to have that power over me anymore either. He knows I’m scared of them, and he’s always taken advantage of that fact. I don’t….I don’t want him to have that anymore.”

“Then he won’t,” Roman agrees. He can understand her logic, and he respects the hell out of her wanting to take back that power. He supports the hell out of it too. “Not if you don’t let him.”

She gives a sad smile, shaking her head. “As strange as it is, I think….Wes and I are both victims.” Before Roman can press her for clarification, she explains, “my father always kept his contact limited with my mom. He said she would make him weak like she made me.” Just saying it takes Solana back to countless times and occasions where her father would talk down on her mother, talk down on Solana. It’s a weighty memory. “Having my mom…having her love for the time that I did made a big difference for me. Wes never got that, so I always wonder how things could have been different if he did.”

Solana has a big heart. Pure. A mind-boggling phenomena to Roman considering everything she’s been through. “It still doesn’t make what he’s done to you right.” Kind heart or not, it’s imperative she knows there’s never a good enough reason or excuse for anyone to do what he’s done to her.

She nods, “I know.” It’s still a work in progress, Solana learning to unlearn the victim blaming she’s placed on herself for so many years. But, that much, she’s come to accept.

She never deserved any of Wes or her father's abuse.

Roman can see the way memories might be coming back to the front of her mind and moves to redirect again. “You wanted to talk to me about something earlier.”

Oh.

For a second, she wants to lie. To make up something. To come up with a story that’s hopefully believable enough for him to not poke holes through. And then another line from her book resurfaces.

Calculated risks are different—you weigh your chances and step out onto the ice only when you’re relatively sure it’s solid.

Solana is certain she’s never met a more solid person than Roman.

Scooting back in her chair, she feels his watchful gaze around her as she moves around the table and is only inches away from him when he realizes what she's doing and beats her to it, gently pulling her onto his lap. He’s always so careful around her.

Solana moves her arms around his neck as he rests one hand on her hip.

She takes a deep breath. “I was...I was working out of my book this morning, and it was the chapter on…on intimacy and—” She has to pace herself, knowing that if she doesn’t, she won’t get through the conversation. And she has to do this. She almost feels like she needs to do this. “I think I always thought I couldn’t have that because of what happened to me, but…..but I think I can.”

And this has been such a powerful and moving revelation to walk into. For so long, Solana has lived in fear and trauma, haunted by the horrific memories of her sexual assault. It’s inaccurately painted her views of what should and could be something beautiful and special with the right person. She never thought that could be possible for her though, believed that her chance had been destroyed by two sick individuals.

But if the past few months have taught her anything, it’s that there are decent people in the world. Decent men in the world. Jimmy. Jey. Solo.

Roman

She’s still very much nervous, and even talking about it has her pushing back a level of anxiety, but the desire to overcome that trauma, to be able to experience that as a woman, to not be held down by the shackles of her past, is stronger than it’s ever been before.

“And I want to try.” She licks her lips, nervously adding on and explaining as best she can, “but, I can’t do it right away. I need….I need to build up to it, and I know—that has to be frustrating for you—”

“Solana.” His interruption is quiet but firm. “We’ll go as slow as you want.” His finger is moving in slow circles on her hip, an action that provides her a strange sense of comfort. “Whatever you need is what we’ll do.”

Solana releases a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding in. Him agreeing isn’t something she necessarily didn’t see coming, she just didn’t realize it’d come so easy.

She almost feels it’s too good to be true.

Suddenly unsure, Solana double checks. “You’re….you’re okay with that?”

He doesn’t miss a beat with his answer. “Only if you’re sure this is what you want.”

It’s a profound statement. There’s a lot of things she’s not sure of that she’s been making herself do, regardless.

But this……

This is something she wants.

Something she maybe even needs.

Solana is careful with her answer. “I’m gonna be 29 this year, and the only sexual experience I’ve had is being raped as a child.” There’s an equal combination of emotion and conviction as she affirms, “I don’t want that to be my story anymore.”

And it won’t.

Because she won’t let it.

Not anymore.

“Then we’ll do this.” She nods, still nervous but also comforted by his support. “You know I won’t make you do anything you’re not ready for, but I also need you to be good about communicating with me.” His eyes move up and down over her, resting slightly longer on her chest, which is understandable given the revealing nature of her dress. “And you also know how attracted I am to you, to all of you, so I need you to stay clear with me on what you are and aren’t comfortable with, okay?”

It’s fair and completely understandable. Roman is still a man. A man with needs, and he strikes her as being an otherwise handsy man, so him wanting and needing to know where her red zones are is important.

“I understand.” And she’ll make an active, concerted effort to be on top of that. To practice saying no and cutting things off when she needs to. “What—what about you?” He gives her a look. “Is there….is there anything you’re not comfortable with?”

Again, he takes her in, head to toe. His tongue leaves his mouth to slowly gloss over his bottom lip. “Baby, you can do whatever you want with me.”

Her smile is bashful as she looks away. Him being so….outspoken about his attraction and desire for her is still a new thing she’s trying to navigate, but it’s not unwanted. Nor does it feel bad to have a man like him want her so badly.

Not at all.

Deciding to continue to stay on the ledge she’s already started to trail, Solana brings her hand to his chest. “So….so if I asked you to kiss me again….”

He chuckles, Solana’s eyes shutting as he brings his mouth to her jawline, “whenever,” her nails claw against his chest as he moves his lips to her nose, “however,” finally he’s teasing the corner of her mouth. “Wherever you want.”

And it’s at the exact moment their lips connect again that a phone ringing once again steals away another groundbreaking moment.

Solana can feel the irritation in his muscular body and smiles against his lips.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” She doesn’t necessarily doubt it as he kisses her cheek before pulling his phone out and answering as she lays her head in his neck. He barks out an unkind, “what?”

It doesn’t deter her as he keeps his grip on her hip, Solana enjoying the feeling of being in his arms. She’s starting to realize being this close to him makes her feel safe. His presence alone gives her that feeling, but this is something different, something almost…deeper.

She doesn’t try to listen in on his phone call, but it’s made virtually impossible not to, given the fact that she’s literally on his lap. However, that’s ended when he switches to speaking in Samoan. Still, it’s not hard to pick up on the fact that he’s growing more annoyed with every second that passes.

He then gives a heavy sigh, switching to English, “I’ll be there in a bit.”

Her stomach drops, a frown appearing that she does her best to quickly push away. She had a feeling the call would end that way.

Before he can explain to her the obvious, she lifts her head and assures, “it’s okay. I should probably get back to Dulce anyway.”

“Damn dog is so needy.” Solana smiles at the scowl on his handsome face. For someone who doesn’t care for dogs, she’s noticed he seems to interact with her puppy more and more as the days pass. He brings his hand to her chin, ensuring she keeps her gaze on him. “Don’t wait up, alright?”

It’s an expected request, one he should already know she’ll do her best to, but most likely won’t, abide by.

“I make no promises...”

________

Having such a small dog means that he or she can be in the most random of places and blend in seamlessly because of said smallness. It’s why in looking for Dulce after getting out the shower, Solana damn near searches every corner and crevice of the first and second floors of the mansion. Outside of a room that’s been locked and closed off the past two weeks, Roman not really giving her a reason why nor has she pushed.

She’d never been in it anyway.

It is, however, out of the norm though for Dulce to not be nearby. She typically likes to stay close to Solana.

Or even Roman.

So for a moment, Solana starts to get concerned. But after searching her room, the kitchen, the dining room, and even the backyard a second time, Solana is finally able to locate Dulce in the least expected place.

Roman’s room.

She didn’t even realize Dulce’s bed was still in there, still in the original spot on the side of his bed.

The side she had slept on that one night.

“Dulce, you can’t stay in here.” Solana knows Roman isn’t a huge dog person, and Dulce being in his room is probably the last thing he’ll want to see when he gets back. But it’s in reaching over to pick up her puppy that something unexpected happens.

Dulce nips at her.

Solana gasps, momentarily taken off guard. That’s the first time Dulce has done that. “Dulce, no.” Again, Solana goes for the grab only for the puppy to plant her bottom and back legs into the bed. Now Solana is just straight up confused. “What is wrong with you?”

Thinking maybe she can lure the puppy with a toy, Solana turns to leave, almost to the door when Dulce’s whimpering and the patter of her little feet stops her. Solana turns around and moves to grab her when Dulce scampers right back over to her bed, plopping her little body down.

It’s when she does that, Solana starts to catch on.

“You want to stay in here?” Dulce’s reply is a bark followed by the wag of her tail. Solana frowns. “We can’t…..this is Roman’s room.”

And yet even as the words leave her mouth, she thinks about that. Thinks about the fact that a part of working up to being intimate with Roman includes being close to him, touching him, in his bed perhaps. And though she still doesn’t remember everything from the night she got drunk, she remembers waking up in his bed and falling asleep again in the same bed with zero issues.

She felt….she felt comfortable.

She felt safe.

“We can stay for a little while.” Deep down, Solana knows Roman won’t be upset with her. If anything, he’ll be more annoyed that she didn’t listen and decided to wait up, but her laying in his bed for a few minutes won’t generate anger.

Solana puts her phone on the nightstand, making sure the ringer is still on. The likelihood of him texting or even calling her is slim to none, but still….she doesn’t want to miss it if he does.

Laying on his bed is the initial plan, but there’s a chill in his room that has her moving under the covers just to provide her that slight warmth. It’s not intended to increase her comfort and definitely not intended to lead to her falling asleep.

But that’s exactly what happens.

It’s also the last thing Roman expects to find when he makes it back home a couple hours later.

Solana asleep in his bed.

He knew she would try to stay up, knew she would end up falling asleep in trying to stay up, but he didn’t know she would end up doing all of that in his room, in his bed.

It’s unexpected but far from unwanted, a strange sense of satisfaction at seeing her sleeping so comfortably, so peacefully in his space of all places.

He’s careful in his movements around the room, gathering clothes to change into post shower. Roman doesn’t want to disturb her, to wake her up, especially since he has a good guess that she didn’t intend to end up in his bed and would be unnecessarily apologetic.

Apologetic for something he’s halfway considering asking her to make a permanent thing.

Roman manages to finish his shower without Solana so much as moving an inch. If only her damn dog was the same, because he’s barely able to open the bathroom door when Dulce is at his feet, whimpering.

Small ass dog with an even smaller ass bladder.

Before she can progress to barking, he’s got her up in his arms, guiding her out the room, down the stairs and into the backyard where she thankfully wastes zero time in doing her business. Roman is grateful, not wanting a second to pass where Solana could wake up, freak the fuck out, and leave.

He wants her to stay right where she is.

And it’s in sliding into the bed with her, moving his arm over her body and gently pulling her into him, he realizes another reason why he doesn’t want her to leave. There’s an unfamiliar almost instant peace he has at the feel of her next to him, like this is how it should be, like she should be with him.

Like she’s supposed to be with him.

But he clearly wasn’t thinking straight when he moved her, because she’s suddenly stirring in her sleep, eyes slowly blinking open.

Fuck. He didn’t mean to wake her up.

Roman’s half expecting her to freak out, to panic at being this close to him, at being in bed this close to him. But she again surprises him with a quiet murmur that’s more an acknowledgment than anything. “You’re back….” He watches as she frowns almost, an indication of worry, asking in a voice full of sleep. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He brings his hand to her cheek, recognizing that even though she’s talking, she’s very much still half-sleep. “Go back to sleep.”

Solana gives a little nod and the moment he pulls his hand away, she inches closer to him. He shifts their positions, so he’s on his back, and she’s tucked safely into his side. In what feels like seconds, she’s fast asleep.

Yeah….

A discussion about her moving into his room is definitely on the table, preferably sooner rather than later. It makes sense to him for a lot of reasons, namely the fact that she’s clearly comfortable sleeping with him in this way but also the fact that she’s expressed a desire to work up to being intimate.

Roman’s had sex in a lot of different places, but there’s no way in fucking hell he could ever have his first time with Solana be anywhere but a bed.

His bed.

He plays around with a few different ideas on how to broach the subject before sleep prevails over him too.

It’s the fastest he’s fallen asleep in years.

And he’s certain it has nothing to do with the long ass day he had but everything to do with the woman besides him.

But his sleep is short lived by the vibrating of his phone on the nightstand. Irritated at the interruption of his sleep, he’s not surprised. Roman’s always been a light sleeper.

He peers down to make sure Solana remains undisturbed in her slumber, and seeing that she’s still sleeping as peacefully as before with her body somehow more over his than he remembered, he grabs his phone.

Paul: Sorry to disturb you so late, sir, but I got the files you requested for Miller. Emailed. As we already know, he’s almost a million in the hole. Has been in debt over the past twenty years. Never in the green. The bulk of it was accumulated in 2005. 500K. Summer 2005. Strangely, in that same month, it was cut in half to 250K. Then mysteriously zeroed out in late 07.

Roman sits on the brief summary provided by his Wise Man. It doesn’t add up. He already knew Miller was in the hole. The man is a fucking idiot when it comes to finances, so him being that deeply in debt isn’t surprising, but him somehow getting rid of a quarter million debt is. The fucker isn’t smart enough to pull that off.

Roman: Who was the creditor?

Paul: Still looking into that.

Roman: Anything significant about 07’?

Paul: Not that I can see. Still digging though.

Roman doesn’t like mysteries. Can’t stand unanswered questions. They’ve always driven him fucking insane. It’s why he finds himself unable to fall back asleep, an inconvenient thing given the fact that he’ll need to be up and out of bed in a little under three hours. Still, he can’t get the dates and information out of his head.

How the fuck did a dumbass like Miller clear his ledger to that extent? It’s not unheard of. Roman could have done it. Easily. But, he’s also significantly smarter than his wife’s dumbass father.

Even more, what the hell did Miller need or have done for fucking half a million dollars?

Was he moving product? Weapons, maybe? Human trafficking? Just the thought of that last one makes Roman want to place his fist through the nearest wall.

But it’s Solana stirring on top of him that serves as the unintended trigger that helps him fill in the rest of the gaps.

He’s quick with the text to the Wise Man.

Roman: When was Solana’s mother killed?

Paul: Sir?

Roman: Answer the fucking question.

There’s a brief delay followed by those three dots and an answer.

Paul: 2005. August.

Wheels start turning as Roman begins putting the harrowing pieces together. Miller went into half a million dollar debt in August of 2005 that somehow got slashed in half at the end of the same month. The same month that Solana and her mother were attacked, and only one of them made it out alive.

Half…..

2007….

Roman does some mental math. Solana was born in 95. She’ll be 29 this year. That puts her at age 12 back in 07’.

12.

The same age she was when she was raped.

The same year the largest chunk of her father’s debt suddenly zeroed out and disappeared like it never happened in the first place.

And just like the night he found out Solana was a survivor of childhood sexual assault, the unbridled horror and disgust that filled him in knowing the truth, Roman is starting to wish he wasn’t so good at connecting the dots. That he wasn’t able to put two and two together.

Because the picture is more fucking horrifying than anything he’s encountered in some time. If ever.

Because he’s now faced with the dilemma of just how in the hell he’s supposed to tell Solana that her father is responsible for her mother’s murder but also her being raped.

Because now he’s faced with the dilemma of if he should tell her at all.

Roman closes his eyes.

Shit just got infinitely more complicated.

#roman reigns fic #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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sugarbbgrl · 1 month

Text

the one with a camera MDNI

warning(s): dubcon (?), spanking, voyeurism, pet names, praise, degradation, light choking, light hair pulling, dumbification and dacryfilia if you squint

john may not but that much older than the others is 141, but he’d never been as tech savvy. he could tell you day and night how to unload and take apart an m16, but as soon as you ask him to restart the wi-fi router, he’s at a complete loss.

he went to johnny for help, knowing his finest demolition expert might have a clue about installing security cameras. john had been worried about you when he’s away on missions, he couldn’t have his pretty girl unsafe any longer.

thankfully, johnny agreed so once they were finally able to have a short leave, he told john he’d help him.

“i really just don’t understand why we need these, john, i’ve been perfectly fine without them.” you commented, standing behind the two men screwing in one of the cameras.

“darling, would you just let your old man’s mind rest easy at night? i know you’re a capable woman, but there are others more capable of breaking and entering.” john turned to look at you with a soft expression, hoping you’d finally get the hint that he needs this.

you finally caved, allowing the two to continue their mission while you prepared dinner for you and your fiancé.

by the end of it, there had been quite a few cameras in and outside of the house. every corner secured, other than the bathroom per your request for some privacy.

days go by when you eventually come to relax under the watchful atmosphere, almost completely ignoring them. daily tasks get easier without you having to watch over your shoulder. you’re thankful for them, to be quite frank. knowing that you can blow a kiss or two at them while your wonderful fiancé watches.

the night before john was set to go back out into the field, things had gotten more than heated between the two of you. you’d decided to out in his favorite lingerie set for him: a sheer, light blue body suit with a pair of white thigh high stockings. price’s man spread widern and a smirk rested high in his cheeks when he set his sights on you.

“well aren’t up just dashing, my darling.” the older man pulled you in by your waist, kissing you perky nipples through the thin fabric, a whimper leaving your lips.

somehow you’d both had made it to your shared bedroom, long before ridden every piece of clothing that adorned ones both of your bodies, except for the stockings. john had you facing the end of the bed, ass up for him to pound into your tight, little cunt. he’d used his belt to tie your hands together behind your back and his hand was pressed into the back of your head, shoving your face in your messy sheets.

“breathtaking beauty,” john groaned his praises, his free hand bringing a harsh smack to your backside. you yelped at the sudden contact, tears pricking your eyes from complete pleasure. “i just can’t believe this, you, are all mine.”

you were at your limit, john having coaxed two other orgasms out of you while in the living room and now you’re about to reach your third and final. you were a mess of slobber, whimpers and moans. you couldn’t keep quite even if it were to save you life. john felt too good, his balls slapping against your swollen bud and his head toying with your sweet spot.

suddenly the hand that price had pushed your face into the bed, gripped your hair and lifted your head. john leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple before leaning into the shell of your ear. “why don’t you smile at the camera, pretty girl.”

unbeknownst to you, john had other plans for those cameras than just for security. of course, he wanted to make sure you were safe, but he also had his own devilish desires. after having them installed, he had given the code to each one of the members of tf141. he made sure to emphasize to tune into the show tonight.

you should be angry, you should be beating on his chest with a string of curses and further insults. but the thought of the others watching john make a sputtering mess of you had your core heating up even more, a fire ignited in the lowest part of your belly.

you look up to the camera at the corner of your room with half lidded eyes and gave a hazy smile, making sure to blow a kiss at it too. john’s low chuckle vibrated through his chest and into your back before he shoved your face back into the plush fabric of your sheets. he fucked you harder, deeper than he had in a long time, as if to put on a show for the boys.

he groaned, another hard smack to the fat of your ass. he reached around and wrapped a large hand around your throat, pulling you up once more and squeezing only a tad. “what a dirty girl, getting off on letting my mates watch you through their screens.”

the thought of them palming themself through their briefs had you pushing yourself over the edge, a shiver up your spine and an orgasm ripping through your body. a couple ‘ah’s’ flowed through your lips as john reach his end as well, spilling his seed deep into your womb.

“that’s my girl.” john huffed out, pressing a string of kisses to your spine. he pulled out of you and gave a small nod to the camera, signaling the end of your endeavors.

you could get used to this: walking around in little to nothing, teasing your fiancé and his men. purposefully setting yourself in clear view of the camera, letting them watch you touch yourself, maybe even moan their names if john would allow it (he most definitely would).

#call of duty #cod mw2 #john price #captain price #captain price smut #john price x reader #simon riley #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #cod smut #cod headcanons

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wrendoesnotexist · 5 months

Text

The younger brothers wrapping their wings/tails around you 👀 P1

Ft. Asmo and Satan

Warnings: Slightly suggestive Looking at you Asmo, mild angst (like mayonnaise level mild), not proofread

GN!Reader

Not super proud Abt how Satan's part turned out but oh well

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus has be clinging to you for almost an hour at this point, as usual. Though today's a little different. Asmo's new beauty products he ordered got put on a delay, leaving a very pouty and very needy Asmo for your to take care of.

In the midst of pouting cuddling, Asmo turned into his demon form. He didn't notice it at first, being caught up in another rant, that is until he feels your hands gently moving along the edge of his wings, as well as along his tail, both of which are wrapped firmly around you.

He lets out a delighted giggle. You're actions alone enough to brighten his mood.

"Oh, you're just SO cute!"

The avatar of lust praises, rubbing his soft cheek against yours. The just pouting demon now happy and giggly, his vibrant orangey-pink eyes boring into yours. But he starts pouting again as you stop your movements.

"Aww... C'mon, don't stop now!"

He whines, placing your hands back onto him. He's not letting you stop so easily, he wants you to keep touching him. He wouldn't mind if you're hands started to wander more... In fact he'd rather enjoy it.

It's safe to say you won't be leaving his room for a while.

SATAN

Satan's holed himself up in his room for hours, having had an intense fight with Lucifer. You decide to be ballsy to go to his room and try to calm him down. Even if it's just a bit.

He growls at the figure who enters his room, his chest heaving and his fangs bared. That's until he gets a whiff of your scent, he glances over at you. He relaxes, if only slightly. You always seem to have that effect on him. And he doesn't want to snap at you, you've done nothing to him to warrant it, anyway.

Despite this he can't help the growl that escapes his throat as you slowly approach him, his tail slashing the air as a warning.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

You ask softly, sitting about a foot next to him, both trying to avoid his tail and to give him space. His shoulders relax slightly at the sound of your voice, though his wrath remains.

He starts rambling about the argument with Lucifer, with you nodding along and listening intently. The venting helps ease his anger a bit, his tail no longer slashing, instead it moves to seek out his the human beside him. His tail firmly wraps around your waist, pulling you to him.

He lets out another huff of anger, before resting his chin on the top of your head. It's been a good hour since he first started venting to you, but you're more than willing to help him.

"Thank you for listening to me, MC... You're always there to help me... I cannot stress enough how thankful I am for you,"

He whispers against your hair, causing a soft smile to spread across your lips.

"I'm thankful for you too, Satan."

You whisper softly in return, your hand moving to rest in his. The tips of his ears turn a light pink, not that you could see given the fact he has you trapped against his chest.

You're going to be in his arms for a while. Better hope you went to the bathroom before this.

#obey me #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #satan x reader #asmo x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me brothers #obey me shall we date

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ch3rry-wink · 8 months

Text

Even in Death

Pairing: curse!Yūta x f!reader

Summary: Yūta has returned from the grave just for you.

CW: +18, murder, yandere Yūta, slight gore, obsession, blood, stalking, smut, co-dependency?

Author's note: I've read a lot of Yūta and I wanted to write something too

If you had known the implications of killing your boyfriend that night, you might have stayed still as he criticized you for that letter you wrote months before you became a couple, confessing your love to someone else. But no, in a fit of rage, you decided to thrust that kitchen knife into his chest and then dispose of his body by burying it in an empty lot.

The police had come a couple of times asking questions; you lied and made sure to lie convincingly. Getting rid of them was easy.

On the other hand, getting rid of the entity that resembled your boyfriend would be a greater challenge. Three days after the incident, a figure began following you, and people seemed oblivious to its presence. A week later, the entity took shape and appeared before you – a more lifeless version of your boyfriend.

He stayed with you, coiling around your body, sometimes feeling him groping you. When he wasn't on top of you, he lurked in corners, staring at you intently. Nights became sleepless, hearing the sound of his nails on any surface, pulling your blankets, and if he was in a good mood, he would cuddle with you.

Mornings were a hassle too; he found it amusing to make you struggle to find your things, causing you to be late.

Nowhere and with no one were you safe. This was confirmed during a night out with friends when the entity whispered a command in your ear, threatening harm if someone didn't remove their hand from you.

Terrified, you left the place, locked yourself in a bathroom, and his head appeared under the cubicle door in an unnatural position.

"Leave me alone!" you screamed. "No, you'll always be mine," the entity slid under and stood in front of you. "You'll never be with anyone else; I'll kill anyone who gets close to you."

"Yūta, I'm sorry."

"Save those crocodile tears," he approached your neck and kissed you from the collarbones to your ear. "You didn't look very sad when you left me in that field that night."

"Is that what you want, a confession? I'll do it if it means you'll leave me alone."

"And how does that benefit me? I want you to be mine like in the old times." The thought disgusted you.

You broke free from his grip and ran to the subway. He followed, sat next to you, and began touching you everywhere. The announcement for your stop came, and you walked through dark streets. Some guys approached, and unsurprisingly, Yūta intervened, blood and guts at your feet – he had always been protective.

Back home, you rushed to the small altar your parents had set up in honor of Yūta. Seeking comfort and wisdom in prayers, but Yūta was guiding the situation, hands on your breasts, lips kissing your neck.

"Fine, we'll be together," he got excited, wanting to take everything right there. He was no longer bound to behave; it was just a hungry curse for you and resentment.

He lunged at you, you fell, and he held your hands over your head. Your eyes filled with tears. Despite the hatred, his love was greater, wanting you to desire him, enjoy him as when he was alive, not just a curse to annoy you.

So he was gentle, caressing your body adoring every part of it with small, slow kisses, gently removing your clothes.

You gasped when his fingers finally found their way to your panties and he moved them aside, made perfect circles over your clit and your hips lifted towards him as you felt his fingers enter, you missed this sensation, missed him - the version that was a sweet guy, not the jealous Yūta, and certainly not the cursed Yūta.

You ran your hands through his hair and pulled him in for a kiss, he followed your kiss and his fingers kept curling inside you at that sensitive spot that would bring you to the end, yet he stopped leaving you there halfway to orgasm.

"I want you to beg for me." He stood up, and you did the same; your body was tense, and you were angry.

"Please, Yūta," you used that little voice when you wanted to manipulate him into doing something; however, it didn't work, and you approached him, following the swirl button shape, and began unbuttoning one by one.

Curse Yūta was very thin, almost bony. You touched his collarbones and then descended to do the same with his ribs, while kissing his neck, your hands reached his pants, and you heard them fall.

He was holding back, playing hard to get, wanting to see how far you'd go to have him. Then, you knelt in front of him, ready to give him pleasure; he stopped you.

"Tell me what you want" he towered over you, looking down with his sad, lifeless eyes.

"I want you... Please don't leave, stay with me, I need you," you said between sobs.

"I wasn't planning on leaving, I'll always be with you," he reassured you. "I promised to always take care of you, but now I need to feel you," he said as you nodded in agreement."

You lay back on the floor, offered yourself to him by spreading your legs, removing your panties and running your fingers through your wet folds indicating you were ready just for him. He directed his cock towards your needy pussy, and began to move it over your folds teasing you and how needy you were. A growl came from his throat as he began to slide his length inch by inch inside you, he stood there not moving just waiting, feeling you throbbing around him. His thrusts were sudden and rough.

"Yūta!" you moaned as he pressed again and again on your g-spot. You squeezed his cock hard, he knew you were close by the way your pussy clenched and sucked on it.

His bony fingers moved to your clit and started rubbing it, your back arched and your pussy contracted on his cock. You felt his cock and balls spasming.

With a firm grip he held your hips and buried himself deeper into you, his fluids filling your pussy until they spilled out; It felt good, like in the old times when he was your boyfriend, because he still was; he was Yūta, a different version but the same Yūta.

Yūta collapsed next to you, you smiled at him your cheeks were flushed and on your eyelashes was still the wetness of some tears.

"I'm sorry" you put your hand on his chest and then moved to kiss him.

"It doesn't matter, we are together now and we will always be together..... You will always be mine."

"Always yours."

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu yuta #yuta okkotsu #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu smut #yandere yuta #jjk x reader #jjk smut #okkotsu yuuta #jjk yuuta #yuuta smut #yuuta x reader #yuuta x you #yuuta okkotsu

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fanaticsnail · 3 months

Note

Sooo if we’re doing yandere can we please get some yandere katakuri ?

It's been a little while since I've written for our dear Katakuri, and I wanted to see how this would play out. Thank you for your ask! 🖤🐌

Safety

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,700+

Synopsis: As housekeeper to Charlotte Linlin, Katakuri saw you as part of his family. He is obsessed with ensuring you are safe, being a human so much smaller than he was and around such a large family. He is doing all of this, just to ensure your safety. Sometimes that means following you home and watching you from outside your bed chambers.

Themes: yandere!Katakuri x gn!reader, yandere trope, hinted nudity, showers, obsessive tendencies, obsessive behaviours, almost kissing, confessions of love.

Notes: I have only written a few fics for Katakuri, but I adore the big guy. I hope you don't mind him with a little bit of obsession over his features.

Tag list: @gingernut1314 @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @feral-artistry @sordidmusings @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @i-am-vita

Amber lights illuminate and press over your skin the moment you enter into your living space within the servants quarters of his mother’s bed chambers. The soft crack of your fire popped and caused you to jump and giggle at the soft interruption. Slowly removing your apron and overcoat, you placed your uniform in your wicker basket for washing on your day off tomorrow.

As housekeeper and confidant to Charlotte Linlin, you were never far from the source of vengeance and wrath from the larger woman. Your body was pushed to the limits when preparing her pastries, fudges and cakes, and was also subject to aiding her in her daily routine: preparing her facial features with paints and powders, and dressing her in her garments for the day.

You were so small in comparison, so frail and meek when compared to the giants who lorded the land. So defenseless and helpless should Linlin express her disdain and wrath physically directed at you. You needed a loyal guard dog, a protector, a warrior to ensure your safety within the grounds and an escort to your suite.

At least, that's what Katakuri told himself you needed. And he was more than willing to provide such a service.

His ruby gaze trailed your body from his position sitting on the ground with his back pressed against the tree outside your window. His lips were partially parted, his eyelids falling to half-mast as his desire for you only grew and grew the longer you served his mother.

You were so small, he could wrap his fist around you in one hand. He wanted to keep you safe, to keep you secure, to ensure you would never go wanting for anything as his mother’s young confidant. He loved his family, and as such: you were an extension of such a title as someone residing in such close quarters.

This had become his nightly ritual: going about his day as earl of flour, writing to officials within his mother's vast nakama, ensuring her title as Yonko remained intact and secure, and following you home to ensure your safety from a distance to not alarm you at the end of your shift with his mother. You were so precious to him, so innocent and pure within Komugi Island.

As you rid yourself of your daily attire and readied yourself for your nightly bath, a warm tint of pink dampened Katakuri’s cheeks with the flood of blood pooling within. He told himself this was private, something you didn't mean to be seen by another individual, and he begged his eyes to pull away from gazing up at you. But the longer he looked, the more he longed.

His sharpened canines began to shake and chatter against one another as he consumed your form, telling himself he was truly ensuring you were safe from any who wished to do you harm. His gaze continued to hold over you as you stepped within the shroud of your bathroom walls. Steam exited the vents from the cement wall beside your quarters, the scents of citrus, flower petals and eucalyptus flooding his nostrils while picturing the lather of bubbled suds over your skin.

Shaking his head, he cast all impure thoughts away from him as he fixed his eyes on the ground in front of him. He was your knight for the night, not some pervert attempting to peek into your bed chambers in hopes of meeting with your bare flesh. He was here to keep you safe from those who lurked in the dark, not to have you fear him more for his actions.

A hum called him away from his thoughts, the familiar tune you would sing to yourself every night ringing out in perfect pitch. Closing his eyes, he allowed the moment to be shared with him as his own deep baritone hummed the counterpart along with you. His soul began to mourn your meeting, crave your contact, and yearn for a simple touch that his obsession with ensuring your safety was not to be misinterpreted as lust.

At the last thought, his eyes snapped open. His pupils narrowed, his brow furrowed, and his sharp teeth grimaced at such horror. He was not in love with you, this was truly about keeping you safe. He did not want to hold you, kiss you, consume you and ravish you with romantic intensity that could rival all others.

Did he?

As you stepped out of your bathing quarters in a fluffed robe and your hands drying your hair with a plush towel, it truly dawned on him. Watching your smile grow as you began to dress yourself in comfortable sleepwear and sat by the fire to heat your hair and dry your scalp with book in hand, he truly was struck in the chest like his trident in the thick of battle.

He did want all of those things with you. He was in love with you. Truly, deeply, and painfully in love with you. His love for you propelled him to do these things, to keep you safe, to shepherd you from harm, to check the future with his haki to ensure no slip ups resulted in your pain. He loved you with every chasm of his chest, and vein that coursed through him.

As his eyes drew up once he had dealt with this internally, you were gone. Panic coursed through him, his heart fluttering and immediately readying himself to prepare to fight whoever stole you from his sights. Standing to his full height of seventeen feet and hardening his stance, he was shocked once again at the opening of your front door and your form glaring at him with an unwavering gaze.

“Are you going to tell me why you are following me, lord Charlotte?” your chastising hum slashed into him with invisible blades, holding him both hostage and accountable for his nightly routine.

Taking several moments of being held beneath your scrutiny, Katakuri took a lengthy inhale before exhaling his woes.

“I swore to myself to keep you safe,” he confessed, lowering his eyes and buckling his knee to kneel before you and fall at eye height, “And safe is where you will be, with me ensuring it.” He continued to hang his head, his nose and lip remaining hidden beneath his furred shroud.

“Safe from what? The shower and my bedroom?” you press him, walking forward with your robe flowing at your knees and parting slightly with each step. “Lord Charlotte, I know you have been following me for several months now. I have never felt safer, but,” you finally reach him, his large head the size of your torso and hidden from you beneath his plum-colored hair, “I am lost for reason as to why you are doing this.”

He froze, feeling your body so much closer than he was accustomed to experiencing, inhaling the scents you had washed yourself with in the shower so close, and consumed with longing for you. He didn't want to lie, but he was growing wary of how you would interpret the truth from him. Biting back his nerves, he scrunched his eyes tightly shut and slowly whispered out his hushed confession.

“Because I am in love with you,” he waited with baited breath, making himself as small as possible by deepening his lunge and hanging his head lower.

Your soft hand cradled his cheek, lifting his eyes to meet with yours and revealing his sharpened teeth to you for the first time. He was overcome with panic as your eyes darted immediately to his lips, but his panic softened into confusion as all he was met with was a gentle smile and a warmness in your eyes.

“Forgive me,” he mouthed, his voice lost to him the longer you cradled his larger cheek, “I do not wish to frighten you. I just-... I just wanted nothing more than to keep you safe from all harm.” He darted his eyes between yours, his gaze somewhere between consumed with humility, and plagued with an underlying argument with himself, “You are so special to me.”

“There is nothing to forgive, lord Charlotte,” you lulled your head to the side, continuing to examine his features and darting over his stooped body, “And I can say I have grown a fondness for you too. I think it's due to the fact I always know where I go, you're only a few feet behind me. It's a comfort, truly.”

Stepping closer to him, you cup the other side of his face within your small hand and smile down at him in his low kneel. You raised his chin, prompting him to angle his face higher up to take in your form without filter or shroud of the fact that he truly loved you.

“All that remains is where we go from here,” you giggled down at him, the hum of your voice ringing like a soft, pleasant bell in his ears and raising a smile over his lips.

“In what way do you mean?” he asked, his ruby eyes half lidded and longing for more from you. Inching down closer to his lips, you hover yours over his and whisper in a smooth and sultry tone.

“Well, lord Charlotte, I am unsure if my living quarters are truly safe,” you smiled down at him, his lips parting as they shuddered forward in anticipation of meeting with yours. “Can you come inside and check them for me?” You pull away from his face and gaze down into his eyes, “That is what you were ensuring, correct? My safety?”

Charlotte Katakuri’s eyelashes fluttered with a soft stuttered blink, never truly widening them once reopening. He was consumed with pride at the notion you wanted to keep him with you, finally receiving permission to continue his nightly task of ensuring your protection from a closer vantage point.

“If that is what you so desire,” he whispered in response, slowly leaning into your touch with his chin before pulling away from your grip entirely, “I would never leave you fearing for your safety. Please, lead me on and show me where you feel the most frightened.”

Slowly raking your eyes over his features, your gaze turned hungry and possessive to mirror his own features.

“I can admit, I am plagued by nightmares of late, my lord,” slowly drawing your fingers down to tease at the chest-lining of your bathrobe. A slow, unintentional and protective growl rose up in Katakuri's chest as his lust now blackened his irises. Rising to his feet, he extended his right hand out to you and purred down from his impressive height.

“Then we shall start in your bedchambers.”

#one piece #x reader #katakuri #Charlotte Katakuri #katakuri x reader #charlotte katakuri x reader #yandere #one piece x reader #ask snail #snail answers

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watermelonlovershigh · 24 days

Text

Aftercare {part. 15} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

Long Awaited Punishment {part. 14} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

AN: disclaimer- i've never been in subspace so i have no real experience with what it's truly like. in this chapter i'm writing how i've seen others write about it and based off some things i've read. so it may not be 100% accurate but that's okay because this story is made up anyways. i hope you enjoy and don't forget to leave your feedback. xoxo

This story contains: aftercare, talks of anal sex (pegging), subspace, male sub/female dom, crying, peeing (in a toilet, of course), comfort

{ housemate!harry - boyfriendrry - softrry - au!harry - subrry - dom!reader }

word count- 2,664

After a night of dominated Harry, you give him great aftercare with a relaxing bath and your nurturing demeanor.

Previously-

You slowly remove the strap-on from his body, which causes him to cry out more intensely for a moment, and then you carefully pull your end out as well. Despite feeling just as drained as you believe Harry is, you understand that the dominant role comes with responsibilities. The key responsibility is aftercare, and you conclude that the first step in providing aftercare tonight is to help Harry calm down.

-Continuing

You adjust your position on the bed, moving so you're no longer behind Harry, allowing him to see you and recognize your presence. His eyes remain closed, tears streaming down his face and soaking the pillow beneath him. You lean closer, softly caressing his wet cheek with your gentle hands. "Shh, it's okay. You did such a good job, baby. It's okay. I'm gonna take care of you now."

Your words have not yet registered in Harry's mind, but the gentle sound of your voice causes his eyes to open slightly. He stares at you, and it's evident that he's not entirely present; he seems to be in a state of subspace. His gaze appears to look past you rather than directly at you. While you may not have extensive knowledge of subspace, you're committed to helping Harry return to the moment. You want to provide him with lots of cuddles and let him know how safe he is with you.

The first step into helping him come back down to earth is a nice bath, you think. It'll also be beneficial because you both are actually sweaty and need to wash off the smell of sex from your bodies. As you go to climb out of bed, Harry mutters his first words since entering an alternate state of mind. "No, don't leave me."

You turn to face him as he clutches your wrist, and the look on Harry's face is nearly one of alarm. "Hey, hey," you reassure him, "I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’m just going to run a bath for us, alright? I’ll return shortly." Harry hesitantly releases your wrist, his gaze following you as you step out of your bedroom, heading off to an unknown location. Even though you had just informed him of your plans, he struggled to hear you clearly, as the intensity of his orgasm still reverberates in his ears.

In a brisk manner, you enter the only bathroom in the house and turn on the bathtub. You hastily hang up two towels on the rack beside the bathtub and set the soaps you'll need on the edge of the tub. Once the water is running, you return to your room where you find Harry crying on your bed, lying on his back, unclothed and exposed.

He had finally stopped crying before you left to get the bath ready, so him crying once again has you worrying. Stepping to the side of the bed, you ask slowly, "Harry, why the tears? Everything's okay."

With his hearing slowly coming back, he's able to understand your words enough to answer, "You......you left me." Another sob leaves his throat and it brings tears to your own eyes. You know he's only acting this way because of how intense everything just was but it still saddens you to see him so upset.

You climb back onto the bed and straddle Harry. You then lean down to wrap him in a tight embrace. Initially, his arms lie loosely at his sides on the mattress, but he eventually raises them to encircle your back. He truly needed this moment of comfort. The weight of your body helps to anchor him in reality, and the sensation of your naked skin against his intensifies his feelings of vulnerability.

"Shhh, I'm right here. I have the bath running for us. Would you like to join me and relax?" Harry gives a timid nod in response. You carefully detach yourself from atop his body, which he seems to dislike, and take hold of his large hands, aiding him in rising from the bed. He's initially a bit unsteady, his mind still disoriented, but with your help he soon finds his balance and walks toward the bathroom with you.

As you start to lead him towards the now filled tub and turn the tap off, Harry stops you and quietly inquires, "Um, can I have a wee first? Gotta wee."

You smile up at your boyfriend with affection and answer, "Yeah, of course. I'll step out to give....."

Before you could finish, he blurts, "No, don't leave. S'...... turn away, I guess." The last thing Harry wants is for you to leave him again. He doesn't care that he has to pee, in his current state of mind, there's no embarrassment in his body.

Turning around, you find yourself staring at the floral wallpaper while unintentionally hearing the sound of Harry pissing in the toilet. After what seems like an excessively long time, Harry finishes and flushes before you turn back to help him step into the tub. You enter first, allowing Harry to follow, which allows his body to lean against yours. While the tub is not particularly large, it offers just enough room for both of you to relax and move around without discomfort.

As the warm water envelops you both, Harry lets out a sigh, surrendering to the comfort that surrounds him. The warmth of the bath water, your body resting against his back, and the gentle scratching of your fingers on his scalp create a peaceful setting. He's nearly asleep when you speak softly, "Hey, don’t fall asleep on me. I need you to come back to me, alright Harry?"

Although Harry continues to experience a slight mental haze, he predominantly feels as though he's returned to reality. His thoughts are becoming clearer, and he's beginning to recall the majority of the events from this evening. However, the manner in which you're currently treating him makes him want remain in a submissive mindset for a bit longer. But, he understands that he should let you know he's back, present mentally, to avoid causing you any more concern. You've never observed anyone in a state of subspace before.

"M' back, baby. Just really like it when you talk to me all soft and baby me. Feels nice."

You sigh in relief. "Thank God, you worried me there for a second. With all your crying."

"I cried?" Harry turns his head from where it rests on your chest and questions.

"You don't remember, Harry? What do you remember?"

Turning back around to face forward, he pauses to gather his thoughts before replying, "I remember you teasin' me. Then you briefly sat on my face. After that, you fucked me so hard I came from both my cock and my prostate. Then my memory jumps to havin' a wee and gettin' in the tub where we are now." It appears Harry blacked out following his orgasm, which is quite fascinating. You wonder if there will ever come a time when you can enter subspace with him, if you're even able to. You know not everyone can get into a subspace.

"You had a prostate orgasm? Didn't know that was possible."

"Hh-mh, some men can, others can't. Though technically all men can achieve one, it's a matter of stimulatin' it just right and allowin' your body to embrace the stimulation. Why do you think I like anal sex so much? Yeah I enjoyed havin' sex with men and the presence of a male figure because m' attracted to them, but really anyone can fuck me and if done right, it feels so - fuckin' - good, man or women. Even fucked myself in the past. Doesn't feel as good but it's good enough."

While you recline against the tub, Harry positioned in front of you, you quietly take in his words. The exploration of anal sex for men is a captivating topic in your opinion. In your past relationships and hookups, the men you were with typically shunned any contact with their bums, associating it with being gay. Most men are determined to avoid any accusations of being seen as gay. Because of their stubborn ways of viewing things, they remain unaware that if they were to try anal sex, they might find it quite enjoyable, especially if it's as pleasurable as Harry says it can be.

In all honesty, you probably wouldn't have had any desire to participate in giving anal to your previous partners. The only reason you were open in doing so with Harry is that you feel at ease around him and are confident in his hygiene practices. Otherwise, you would have kept your distance from that aspect of Harry as well.

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

After a few minutes of silence, you become aware that the water is cooling down and decide it's time to actually wash up before settling into bed. You sit up from your position against the back of the tub to retrieve the soap, which causes Harry to also sit up. In doing so, he lets out a sharp hiss, prompting you to worry. "Are you okay, H? Are you hurting anywhere?" Given the intensity of your actions tonight, it wouldn't be unexpected for him to experience some soreness in his joints and, other areas.

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Harry admits, "M' bums a bit sore, s'all. But it's not your fault. It typically happens when I get fucked or pegged as well as havin' gotten spanked. It'll go away in a day or two."

Despite the lingering worry within you, you accept his reassuring words and start applying soap to the washcloth. Once the cloth is well-lathered, you begin gliding it over his body, though there's certain areas he has to wash on his own due to your position behind him. After making sure his body is clean, you take the old cup located by the tub and drizzle water over Harry's head to wet his hair. You're uncertain why you opted to cleanse his body first, but it doesn't matter at this point.

Ensuring his hair is nicely wet, you take a generous amount of shampoo and apply it to your hands before working it into his brown locks. In your effort to pamper him, you massage your soapy fingers into his scalp, prompting Harry to moan softly. When you feel you've given his scalp enough attention, you lift the cup again and instruct Harry to lean his head back to keep the soap out of his eyes. He follows your directions, just as he did in the bedroom earlier, leaning back as you carefully rinse the shampoo from his hair.

Once you've finish bathing him, you swiftly wash your own body before pulling the drain plug and aiding each other in standing up in the tub. You're the first to step out, taking your towel off the hook to dry yourself off before wrapping it around your naked body. You then take Harry's towel and move towards the shivering, tattooed man. Assisting him onto the bath mat, you ask, "Are you cold, baby?"

Nodding as his teeth chatter, he stands there while you dry his wet body off. "Ye...yeah."

When Harry's body is completely dry and his hair is only damp, you ask another question. "Do you wanna wear a pair of briefs or sleep naked?"

"Naked, please." Of course he'd choose sleeping naked.

With your towel still secured around your body and Harry's towel held tightly in your hands, you open the bathroom door to discover an adorable sight at your feet. Harry's cat Pixie is comfortably sprawled out on the floor just outside the bathroom door. It seems she's been patiently waiting for you to emerge so that she could receive some affection. Upon noticing his cat, Harry lets out a soft coo, bending down to pick her up.

"Pixie, sweetheart, were you waitin' for us? Have we failed to give you the attention you deserve this evenin'? M' sorry. Mummy gave me all the attention tonight and she's so sorry too." Your eyes nearly pop in disbelief when you hear Harry refer to you as the mother of his cat. You don't dislike being called Pixie's mum. In fact, your affection for Pixie has grown immensely since you've been living in Harry's home. However, the reference makes you envision a time when that cat is a human baby, and he calls you mummy because you truly are a mother to a child you've brought into existence.

Snapping out of those thoughts, you smile up at Harry as he gently holds Pixie in his arms and proceeds to follow you to his room. The decision to sleep in his bedroom for the night is probably influenced by the state of your bed, which is soaked with bodily fluids, and your current fatigue giving you no energy to deal with that situation tonight. Thus, you'll be sleeping in Harry's room. Which is fine because you often flip back and forth between sleeping in your room or his.

While he walks around the bed completely naked, his cat still in his embrace, the slight limp in his walk is hard to miss, presumably due to his sore bum. You can't help it when you let out a laugh, prompting Harry to look at you from where he stands on the right side of his bed. "What? What's s' funny?"

"It's just..... your walk. Looks like you've......"

Harry interrupts you, completing your sentence with a sleepy grin. "Looks like v' what? Been fucked in the ass? Because I did get fucked in the ass, by my hot, sexy, confident, girlfriend." He sets Pixie down softly at the foot of the bed, where she curls into a tight ball. You let your towel fall away as both of you slip beneath the duvet, naked and vulnerable only to each other. A worry crosses your mind that Pixie may get scarred seeing so much nakedness, but Harry assures you that she's seen far worse things than just naked people and that's something you'd rather not think about.

As you reach to turn off the lamp that sits on the nightstand beside the bed, you're taken aback when Harry shifts over and lays half his body on top of you. Although you don't mind the closeness, a little warning would have been appreciated. His head rests on your right collarbone, with a significant portion of his body draped over you, his right leg positioned between your legs. He casually throws his right arm over your left shoulder, gently tracing the soft, bare skin in a calming manner.

Before Harry drifts off to sleep, you whisper in the dark room, "I love you. Hope you enjoyed tonight and I hope I took care of you enough after, when you were in, um, subspace."

With his eyes shut, Harry murmurs in response, "You were incredible, m'love. The sex, the aftercare, everythin' was perfect. You attended to my needs so well while you were in control and even afterwards in the bathtub. But, just wait; my turn is comin' up. I plan to have you wear those vibratin' panties you purchased throughout the day, teasin' and edgin' you, before I completely rock your world in the bedroom."

You smile at his sweet words but then lose the smile after hearing his promise to you. "Not in the ass though, right?"

"Hm? Me fuckin' you in the ass?" You hum a yes and Harry continues, "Well, not unless you want me to. I can, but I honestly wasn't even thinkin' of that when I said I was gonna rock your world. We'd only do what you're comfortable with."

"Yeah, I'd need some time to think about letting you try anal on me first. Maybe one day, but no promises. Otherwise, I can't wait."

You both end up drifting off to sleep, pressed together, naked, and dreaming of what's to come next in your growing relationship.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(if you want to be apart of my new tag list, let me know right here !! )

tag list: @swiftmendeshoran // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @hsonlyangelxo // @lunabai // @ppleasingg // @harryscherrysugar

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

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tommina · 1 month

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___________ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆“Feeling better?”⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

I forced myself to write this but hope you guys like it. Happy birthday Jaemin

The autumn sun cast a soft, golden glow through the window as you nestled into your blanket. The chill in the air mirrored your own discomfort, a cold making you crave warmth and care. Wrapped in the comfort of your soft cocoon, you tried to ignore the nagging discomfort and instead focused on the gentle hum of your heater and the soothing promise of rest.

The quiet was soon broken by a familiar sound—the creak of the front door. Jaemin’s voice followed, always gentle and soothing. “I’m home!” he called out, and you could hear the cheer in his tone. Even before you could fully see him, his presence alone seemed to make the room warmer.

Jaemin entered with a loving smile, carrying a tray that radiated comfort. Your heart melted at the sight of him. He placed the tray beside you, and you could already smell the soothing aroma of herbal tea and homemade chicken soup. His eyes, always full of care, sparkled with concern as he settled beside you.

“I thought you might need some of this,” he said softly, handing you the tea first. You took a sip, feeling the warmth spread through you like a gentle hug. Then, he placed the bowl of soup within easy reach, his fingers brushing against yours just a moment longer than necessary, igniting butterflies in your stomach.

Jaemin’s tenderness was unwavering. He noticed your tired sigh and, without a word, lay down beside you, offering himself as a pillow. His body was warm and reassuring, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against your back. He positioned himself so that you could lean against him comfortably, and the simple act of his presence made you feel safe and cherished.

“Rest now,” he whispered, his voice a calming balm. You could feel his steady breath against the back of your neck, wrapping you in tranquility. As you sipped your tea and ate the soup, Jaemin gently stroked your hair, his touch tender and caring. The rhythmic motion was a perfect antidote to your anxiety and discomfort.

Time seemed to slow down as the afternoon wore on. Jaemin was attentive to your every need, anticipating them with an instinctive grace. When he noticed you shifting uncomfortably, he began to give you a massage. His hands moved expertly over your shoulders, easing the tension that had settled there. Each touch was filled with love, making you feel cherished and adored.

“Feeling better?” he asked quietly, his voice a soothing murmur.

“Much,” you replied, leaning into his touch. “Thank you.”

As the sun began to set, casting a warm amber light across the room, Jaemin announced that he was preparing a bath for you. He helped you to the bathroom, where the scent of lavender and chamomile filled the air. Soft candlelight flickered around the room, creating an atmosphere of peace and relaxation.

He had already filled the tub with warm water and added aromatic bath salts that smelled heavenly. Jaemin stayed by your side, gently guiding you into the bath and ensuring everything was just right. His careful attention to detail was a testament to how much he cared for you.

“Just relax and take your time,” he said, his hand brushing softly against your cheek before he stepped out to give you privacy. The bath was exactly what you needed—a perfect blend of warmth and tranquility. The stress of the day seemed to dissolve with every moment you spent in the water.

When you finally emerged, feeling renewed and refreshed, Jaemin was waiting with a warm towel and a soft robe. He helped you dry off, his hands gentle and his touch tender. As you settled back onto the couch, now wrapped in warmth, Jaemin returned with a surprise—a bowl of your favorite dessert.

“I thought you might enjoy this,” he said, handing you the dessert with a playful smile that made your heart flutter. The sweetness of the treat was the perfect end to a day filled with care and love.

As the evening deepened, you both snuggled up in bed, the room filled with the soft purring of your kitties. Jaemin wrapped his arms around you, his warmth enveloping you completely, like an embrace from your favorite blanket. The kitties nestled close, adding to the sense of coziness and contentment in this intimate moment.

The day had been simple yet infused with profound love. Jaemin’s attentiveness, his small acts of kindness, and the way he made every moment special had turned an ordinary day into a beautiful memory. As you lay there, surrounded by warmth, love, and the gentle purring of your pets, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace and joy. Jaemin’s embrace was a perfect reminder of how deeply he cared for you, filling your heart with a warmth that seemed to chase away any lingering shadows of doubt or worry. His presence beside you was a constant source of comfort, a grounding force in a world that often felt unpredictable and chaotic.

In the quiet intimacy of the moment, with the only sound being the soft breaths you both took as you drifted towards sleep, you traced invisible patterns on Jaemin's chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath your touch, a soothing rhythm that matched the peace settling over you like a blanket.

As you closed your eyes, surrendering to the embrace of sleep, you knew that no matter what challenges the future may bring, having Jaemin by your side made even the most daunting obstacles seem surmountable. In his arms, surrounded by the love of your furry companions and the flickering candlelight casting dancing shadows on the walls, you found a sanctuary—a place where worries melted away and only love remained.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct dream jaemin #na jaemin #fluff #nct dream fluff #jaemin #jaemin fluff #idk what to put anymore #enjoy

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luvjunie · 1 year

Note

twirls my hair if you’re taking request uhhh— what about reader with tattoos like a full sleeve and piercings and maybe big hair like a fro, braids something that makes her stand out— basically she’s just real intimidating and popular too fast for her liking she just transferred school and the guys are trying to pounce on her but miles 42 is the one that catches her eye?

— a fresh start

pairing: e-42!miles x fem!reader

summary: it’s your first day at a new school, and surprisingly, making a friend isn’t as hard as you thought it’d be. wc: 1,853

a/n: changed this up a little i hope you don’t mind! 100% unintentional but when my mind wanders i follow it 😭

Back at Brooklyn High, you were always told by teachers that school wasn’t a venue for your ‘personal fashion show’, but that it was a place for learning. And while you agreed, it wasn’t your fault that you looked the way you did… Well, that’s a lie. But you loved your look, and so did your peers.

While your hair was big and somewhat distracting to others, your dad always told you it reminded him of what your mom’s looked like the first time he met her, so you never bothered to change the way you styled it, no matter how much you dreaded putting it in bantu knots or doing a twist out every three days.

As for your face full of piercings, that was all you. It was something your dad didn’t favor at all, and he definitely didn’t understand how it was ‘a way for you to express and be true to yourself’, but that was the explanation you gave him, and eventually he accepted it. Though begrudgingly— it was still acceptance, so you took what you could get.

The first piercing was your eyebrow, and you’d done it in your bathroom when you were fourteen with a safety pin. One look at yourself in the mirror made you forget all about the throbbing pain radiating from your face, and just a week had passed before you were already thinking of another. You swore to your dad that it’d be the only one, and that you just wanted to try something new; until you wanted to try your belly button, your septum, and both of your nostrils. After that, It’s safe to say that everywhere you went, attention followed.

Expressing yourself through your clothes and accessories was just a part of who you were. And back at Brooklyn High, you were proud of the way you looked.

But you weren’t at Brooklyn High anymore.

The uniforms were drab at Visions academy. Every girl wearing the same two articles of clothing as the other; the same sad story for the boys. And to keep it a buck, if you were comparing visions to your old school, the atmosphere here sure looked a lot like a jail. And if not for the small loopholes you’d managed to locate in the dresscode, it would’ve felt like it, too.

The searing heat of curious eyes followed you the moment you entered the building, and you began to wonder if choosing to stand out on purpose was the best idea after all. It seemed at Visions, that came naturally for someone like you.

For a few reasons other than the ones you could change in five minutes, you didn’t fit in here. Not in the slightest.

With a wavered sigh and your books glued to your chest, you continued on to your first block, tuning out the whispers that were far from hushed.

It took you a little longer than the six minute passing period to discover your History class within the ginormous fluorescent halls, and when you finally stepped foot into the dimly lit room and noticed the Crash Course video playing on the projector, it dawned on you that they were already well into the lesson.

Almost everyone’s head lifted to look at you when you entered. Almost everyone’s head but a kid who was face down, drooling on his desk, and another whose gaze remained welded to a sheet of paper the graphite of his mechanical pencil was scribbling against. The familiarity of crisp parts and blue magic-sheened cornrows stood out to you first, and a small sense of comfort finally washed over you— for a moment.

The video on the projector paused abruptly, and your teacher appeared to be the exact opposite of dazzled at your late arrival. Great.

“Nice of you to join us, miss…?”

“Y/n, sorry…” You cleared your throat and smiled more like grimaced apologetically, the chain clipped to the waistband of your skirt serving as an idle fidget. “Got lost, real big school.”

Mr. Benson, as it read on your printed class schedule, adjusted his glasses when he went to jot something down onto the paper below him. “Alright, y/n. You can sit next to…”

You watched as a few kids straightened up in their seats, attempting to look uninterested enough to play it cool, yet noticeable enough for the teacher to remember they existed and place your seat next to them.

“Morales. Raise your hand.”

The boy in question quietly clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, pencil clacking against the wood of his desk when he set it down. It looked like his concentration had been broken, and instead of raising his hand, he lifted his head from where it was damn near nose deep in whatever he was doing, and just stared at you.

His slowed blinks gave you enough grounds to take a gander that he was the ‘Morales’ in question.

A stunted breath and a silent nod later, you made your way through the aisle of desks and smoothly slid into the one a pin-filled backpack had just been removed from.

You’d be crazy to not let your curiosity get the best of you, especially now that you were this close to where the brooding energy was coming from. So once your teacher unpaused the video, you stole a peek over at your new desk neighbor, and noticed that his right arm was now strategically placed over the geometric sketches on his paper.

Seeing as it was already mid-year and you were new to the huge school, you figured it’d be in your best interest to try and make at least one friend. You opened your mouth to introduce yourself to him, until a light tap on your shoulder from behind stole your attention.

“Umm, excuse me?”

You turned around to meet the freckled face of the boy who was sat behind you.

“Hm?”

“Yeah, sorry, but I can’t see over your hair. It’s kinda… in the way.”

It wasn’t necessarily what he said that bothered you, it was how he said it, and the fact that he barely stifled a laugh when he did.

Reclined in his chair with his arms crossed, Miles fought to hide the scowl threatening to twist his lips. The desks in this class were staggered, specifically to avoid the very issue of heads blocking the line of sight, meaning there was no way your hair was actually hindering his view.

“O-oh… Sorry, it does that. Sometimes.” Flustered, you nervously tried to press your hair down a little without ruining its shape, the one that took you a whole hour to achieve just this morning.

Miles assumed you were the girl his classmate was blabbing about just before the bell rung, remembering the brief yet detailed explanation of ‘fresh face, big hair, decked out uniform and kinda cute’. Poking fun at you must have been his pitiful attempt at flirting.

Miles suddenly spoke in your defense, eyes remaining on the screen in a bored daze.

“It’s not her fault you 5’2, James. Drink some milk when you get home, maybe you’ll have a growth spurt.”

You sent an inquisitive glance his way and kept it there. You hadn’t thought about what you expected his voice to sound like, or that the first time you’d hear it would be because of him defending you, but this was definitely a pleasant surprise. His voice was so smooth it put silk to shame, and it was a bit low, too, as if he’d just woken up a few minutes ago. Yet it didn’t sound as if he’d quieted his voice on purpose; something that led you to believe he was usually this soft spoken.

“Shut up, Miles.” James grumbled.

“Ain’t my fault you can’t flirt for shit. I’m tryna help you out.”

Some surrounding students close enough to hear the retort had snickered, and a laugh managed to leave your mouth before you could prevent it, resulting in a loud “SHHHH!” from the front of the class.

“That’s funny?” Miles’ hazel eyes floated over to you, swirling with mirth and pinning you in place.

He was joking, but his tone probably didn’t give off that vibe, seeing as you were gawking at him like a deer in headlights.

“I’m messin’ with you,” A small grin played on his face. “I’m Miles.”

“Oh,” an awkward chuckle relaxed your shoulders. “Y/n.” you responded quietly.

“Yeah… I know.” There was a hint of a chuckle beneath his voice. It seemed you’d forgotten that you revealed your identity to everyone just minutes ago.

But you couldn’t help it, you’d never seen a boy quite this pretty before, with lashes long enough to make you jealous and a smile you were certain owed its beauty to genetics, and not an expensive set of middle school braces.

He had six freshly done straightbacks with curved parts, and two clear beads hanging onto each tail that sat a little below his shoulders. It was then that you noticed the medium sized, gimmering stud he sported on his ear, and you deemed it safe to assume his other ear had the same. Cute.

Still feeling the heat of your eyes on his temple long after he’d averted his attention, Miles curiously glanced back at you, then teasingly nodded his head towards the front of the room.

“Pay attention,” he whispered, that same molten look in his eyes. “I don’t share notes.”

—

Class went by in a bit of a haze, to no surprise. It was extremely difficult to pay attention when the fear of your possibly-misshapen fro was on your mind. Today happened to be the one day you’d decided you didn’t need to bring your pick to school, the image of it sitting on your dresser emitting a disappointed sigh from you.

The tinny screech of chairs brought you back to the present, where class had been dismissed and students were shoving papers into their backpacks and shuffling out the doorway, all in a hurry to their next block.

Miles stood up from his seat, appearing to be in no rush.

“I like your hair, by the way.” he observed randomly. “Cool piercings, too.”

The compliment eased your nerves completely. It was genuine, as if he knew you were still thinking about what happened earlier.

“Thank you,” Tucking your notebook away, you looked up to see him sling his backpack over one shoulder. “for defending me earlier, too.”

“S’ no big deal.” he shrugged, but it was, to you.

“Cool braids, by the way.” you parroted through a lighthearted smile.

“Thanks,” Miles’ eyes panned to the floor when he felt himself grin. A habit of his you’d already managed to pick up on in your short knowing of him.

“I’ll catch you later.” He deemed with a two-fingered salute, other hand burrowing into the pocket of his pants.

Rising to your feet, you gave a small wave and watched as he headed out into the crowded hallway with the others; feeling a little less nervous to come to history class tomorrow.

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#across the spiderverse headcanons #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x female reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #miles morales fanfiction #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader

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like-a-diamondinthesky · 1 year

Text

pink salts | l.f

pairing... bf!felix x gn!reader tags... hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, lix is very tired cw... nudity

your skin was tinted a faint red—nearly pink, similar to his own. felix wasn’t sure if it was from the heat of the bath water, or from your favorite pink bath salts. he didn’t ponder on it for too long, though, as you pulled him under the covers and the two of you fell asleep, cozy in each other’s company

wc... 1.1k words a/n... hi hellooo! i got this ask in my inbox and i HAD to write this immediately!!! i'm not the biggest fan of bubble baths, but i do LOVE colored bath salts hehe. i hope you enjoy this little product of my delusions BAHAHAHA (also, my taglist is open so if you'd like to be added just lmk!)

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"Hello?” You groggily mumbled into your phone, rubbing your eyes. It was eleven in the evening and you had fallen asleep on the couch while waiting for your boyfriend to come home.

"Hi, angel. Sorry, did I wake you up?" Though he sounded tired, Felix's voice was soft and soothing, even over the call.

“Mhm, but it's fine." You sat up straight, running your fingers through your hair. "Are you on your way home?"

"Yeah, l am. I'll be there in around 10 minutes. Just wanted to call and let you know."

"Have you eaten already? I can heat some food up if you want.”

“No, it’s alright. I ate dinner with the boys earlier.”

“Okay, baby. Drive safe, I love you."

"I love you, too." Felix sighed and ended the call.

You knew your boyfriend was exhausted. For the past weeks, his schedule had been filled with practice after practice, show after show, and recording after recording. On top of all that, he managed to come back home and stay with you every week, no matter how tired or how busy he was.

You wanted to let him know that all of his effort was seen and appreciated. You stood up, walked to the fridge, and pulled out the container of chocolate chip cookies you had made for him earlier in the week. You left them on the counter to warm up, now heading towards the bathroom.

You turned on the tap, filling the bathtub with warm water. Today was a practice day, and you’re sure Felix’s muscles would be sore from hours of dancing. You sat back on the sink, patiently waiting for the tub to fill. Switching off the faucet, you grabbed your favorite bath salts and sprinkled a scoop into the water, tinting the water a faint pink.

Right as you left the bathroom, the front door opened, and in walked Felix, bag slung over his slouched shoulder. When his tired eyes met yours, they lit up and crinkled as a soft smile plastered itself on his face. He slid his bag off his shoulder onto the floor and opened his arms as you walked to him, silently calling you in for a hug.

Your bodies collided with a soft thud, causing you both to stumble. You laughed, bringing your arms tightly around Felix's back. He held you close to him, arms wrapped around your shoulders. He rested his head on your shoulder, pressing soft kisses to your skin. "I missed you, angel."

"I missed you too, my love." You brought your hands up to his hair, combing through the soft strands. "Your hair has grown longer. I like it, it suits you."

Felix’s smile grew against your neck. "Thanks, baby."

The two of you stood in the middle of your living room for a minute, absorbed into the hug. You found yourself rubbing his back, causing him to lean into your embrace even more.

“Oh, Lixie, I drew you a bath. You can head on over to the bathroom, I’ll follow you in a bit.” You gave one last rub on his back, pulled away, and walked to the kitchen. “I’ll just get some snacks real quick.”

Felix went to the bathroom while you plated a few cookies. You microwaved them for ten seconds, not wanting them to get too hot, and brought the cookies to the bathroom.

When you entered the bathroom, Felix had already sat inside the tub, eyes closed and back against the wall. Though all of his clothes were discarded in a neat pile on the floor, he was still wearing his glasses which were on the tip of his nose, nearly falling off his face. You set the plate down on the counter by the sink and leaned down to remove his glasses. “You forgot to take your glasses off, silly.”

“Had a long day, my bad.” Felix smiled, sliding further down into the tub.

You lit a couple of candles, one vanilla-scented, and the other coffee-scented, and switched off the bathroom lights. You picked up a cookie off the plate and offered it to your boyfriend. “Cookie? I warmed it up for you.”

“Yes, please!” Felix, keeping his eyes closed, opened his mouth and you fed him the cookie with a slight chuckle. Mouth full, he murmured a soft, “Mmm, thanks, baby.”

As he ate the cookie, you sat down on the edge of the tub, reached over him to get your shampoo, poured some onto your hand, and lathered it into your boyfriend's hair. He leaned into the massage, moaning softly at your touch. You grabbed the shower head and rinsed Felix’s hair, making sure not to get any soap in his eyes.

“Why don’t you join me, Y/n?” Felix asked, finally opening his eyes to meet yours.

“Huh, I didn’t think of it,” you blinked at him. “I already showered earlier, I guess it didn’t occur to get in with you.”

Grinning, he motioned for you to join him. “Well, come on. I don’t want to get all pruney by himself.”

“I suppose I could.” You placed your pointer finger on your chin, as if in thought. Felix whined, making you heartily laugh. “Oh, alright. It’s not like I can say no to you anyway.”

You removed your clothes, tossing them on the floor right on top of your boyfriend’s. Felix shuffled forward, making space for you inside the tub. You got in and sat yourself behind him, leaning against the wall. The water was very warm, hot enough that you felt your joints relax, but cool enough that your skin wasn’t stinging. You laid your head on top of his as his back was pressed against your bare chest while he rested in between your legs. You stroked your hand up and down his thigh, a simple affection that made Felix feel swarms of butterflies flutter inside his stomach.

“I love you, my angel.” Felix reached back and grabbed your free hand, lacing your fingers together. He stroked the back of your hand with his thumb, then pressed a gentle kiss onto your wrist. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“It’s no problem, Lix,” You whispered against his damp hair. “I’ll always take care of you, even when we’re all wrinkly and old”

“I mean, if you think about it, we’re already wrinkly from all the water.” The two of you giggled.

For the next hour, you talked about everything on your mind, turning your shared bath into a little heart-to-heart. Later, when you rose from the tub and dried off, Felix noticed that your skin was tinted a faint red—nearly pink, similar to his own. He wasn’t sure if it was from the heat of the bath water or from your favorite pink bath salts. Maybe both? He didn’t ponder on it for too long, though. He soon forgot about the matter when you dragged him to bed, pulled him under the covers, and enveloped him in a big, cozy hug that eventually lulled you both to sleep.

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#felix x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids #lee felix x reader #lee felix #lee yongbok #lee yongbok x reader #stray kids felix #stray kids lee felix #skz felix #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #lee felix fluff #・₊✧ written in the stars

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nocturnesmoon · 8 months

Text

And no room for error (2/2)

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Reader Word count: 5.7k Tags: Hurt/comfort, Fluff, Happy ending, Established throuple, polyamory, military inaccuracies, Mental instability, Ambiguous reader CW: Trauma, Panic attacks, Paranoia/anxiety, Insecurities, (let me know if I missed anything) A/N: Part 2 is heeeereee, hope you enjoy, I recommend reading the first part first, but I suppose you can read this as a standalone too. (Part 1) (Read on Ao3) -They help you through the recovery process-

It feels like you're drowning.

There's no air left for you in the world. All the oxygen that was reserved for you, has been stolen right out of your lungs, leaving them burning. Everything feels like it's on fire, making you long for the days when any pain you might feel would be so much less.

Someone's arms are around you, but you don't recognize them. All you can feel is the muscle in them, how strong they must be, how easily they could overpower you without leaving a chance to fight back.

They're telling you something, something about being safe, that you're home, that nothing can hurt you. Lies. It's all lies being fed right to you, nowhere is safe, not anywhere has been safe for a long time. The moment you show weakness is when they'll strike, you have to keep it in, keep it together.

But being broken down into a heave of sobs isn't exactly keeping it together. Your hands are clutched against your chest, pulling at the fabric of a shirt that's definitely not yours. The hands that had been circled around your body like a cage, moved to help you pull the shirt over your head and take it off. Leaving your upper body naked, but finally feeling able to breathe, you suck in a large amount of air that almost does the opposite of its intent and makes you cough.

You turn your head away from the world, into the chest of the body that a few moments ago felt so threatening, now turning into a beacon of light that wants to guide you. Their voice fills your ears, no longer muffled and incoherent, but filled with a comforting familiarity.

"There ye go love, ye're alright."

You breathe in their scent, light smell of aftershave and something else that you can't place, but it's familiar it's home. You're home. The realization finally settles itself back into your skull, making your inherent panic slowly make its way down.

When you look up and stare into those beautiful blue eyes, you find an adoration and love that's tinted by guilt and sadness. It makes you want to break down into a sob again, his sad blue eyes and his sad mohawk was making you frown. How can a mohawk be sad? You don't know, it just is right now.

"Johnny…" your voice breaks just as you call his name, you're not even sure what you want from him. For him to let you go, for him to hold you closer, get you something for your dry throat, or to wipe your tears away. Everything feels like a big blob of nothing in your body, something that feels so painful, and yet also feels like nothing at all.

He shushes you quietly, tugging you impossibly closer, encouraging you to cry it out and get it out of your system. You sigh against him, letting your body turn from rigid to soft and malleable, molding yourself against him to get comfortable. Your breathing slows, coming back from your wild state once you realize where you are.

The bathroom lights hit sharply in your eye, making you turn away with a wince. You lay half naked in his grasp, only a towel hastily draped over you, giving you a little decency. Not that it used to be a problem, both your partners had seen you naked too many times to count.

You look towards the bathtub, filled up and ready. It threatened you, looking endlessly deep and ready to swallow you whole. It whispered to you, that as soon as you dipped your toes in, you'd be dragged under, filled around with a black mass until the water would enter your lungs. That no matter how much you tried to rise up for air, someone would be holding you down.

The second sigh you let out is a lot shakier, the panic is replaced with guilt quicker than you can recognize it. Shame creeping across your chest in a prickly feeling that makes you bow you head away from him.

He interrupts you before you can say it, "It's okay, no need to feel guilty." He shifts slightly on the floor, being careful to not move you too much. "Doctor said it would take time, we'll take it at your pace okay," he says in a quiet comforting tone.

"You ready to try again?" he urges quietly, placing a kiss of encouragement to the top of your head. He rests his chin atop your head, patiently waiting for you to gather yourself and give him a response.

When you gently shake your head against his chest, burying yourself into him once more, he merely nods. There'll be time to try again later in the day, all he cares is that you feel safe enough to try again.

The pancakes are coming out weird. Normally Simon would say he's quite good at getting a round shape and a fluffy look, but today the batter and the pan don't seem to be working with him. Maybe it's the stress, but he doesn't want to admit it.

You've been back for a few weeks now, finally back in their grasp, back in their arms where you're safe and where you belong. Though he should be relaxed now that you're back, he's tense in an entirely new way.

He's no longer afraid that you might be dead, but there's a new fear that has taken residence within him. Ever since you got back you haven't been the same, understandably so. You were put in therapy promptly whether you wanted to or not, weekly sessions that you haven't expressed much opinion about yet.

It’s hard seeing you like this, you're eerily quiet way more often, staring off into space, and no matter what you refuse to be in any room alone. It doesn't matter if you're sleeping, showering, or doing nothing at all. The biggest struggle has been on that matter, they support you in every way they can, but they also know how much you hate it yourself.

How you so easily go in a panic if you're left alone in a room, how hard it is to get you back to a state of calm. It's exhausting on your psyche, and they can see the toll it takes on you. It's bad enough they're not keen on letting you out of their sights for long anyway.

Your therapist said that it would take time, but eventually you'd be able to work yourself back to a state of normalcy, and that until then, all that Simon and Johnny could do was give you all the support you needed. And so, they did, no questions asked.

Simon sighs as he flips another wrecked pancake over, the sizzling of the pan getting to him, the noise grating something disgusting in his brain. He tears his eyes away from his deformed child pancakes and looks towards the couch in the living room.

He smiles at the sight of you and Johnny snuggled up on it, fast asleep the both of you. Stray rays of sunlight comes through the closed curtains, painting your cheek and Johnny's chest in a soft golden glow.

Johnny's arms are secured around your waist, holding you close to him, your head on his bare chest listening to his steady heartbeat for something real for your mind to grasp at. You've been sleeping a lot more recently.

Johnny theorized that you're just catching up on sleep, finally being able to rest and recover now that you were safe. Simon thinks that your brain finds it easier to exist when you aren't conscious most of the time. Though he wishes that Johnny's theory is all it is.

Simon knows all too well what it's like to come back from something as traumatic as that. Some days he feels like he hasn't even fully recovered himself from his own past. It's something that still lives with him all these years later, and it kills him to know that it's likely to be a similar journey for you as well.

At least he can give himself the small reprieve in the knowledge that both he and Johnny will be there for you every step of the way, no matter what you might need from them. However, even then it never escapes the back of his mind that it might as well have been their fault that you got taken.

He pushes the thought away just as quick as it arrives, he's already spent so long entertaining the idea, but the facts are also staring him in the face. You had been targeted almost randomly, at least in the sense that it had nothing to do with them or their job. The men had been revealed to have no connection to the 141 or anything even closely related.

More or less, it was one terrible, terrible coincidence.

He flips over the pancake one last time before putting it on the plate with the rest of the deformities. He turns off the stove and moves the pan off the heat, looking over everything to make sure it's alright to leave.

With a sigh he grabs a towel and dries off his hands, walking out of the open kitchen and into the living room. It wasn't any of their choices, this apartment was not the best fit for the three of you, but it was what they could get on such short notice.

Only having you back home for a few weeks now didn't exactly invite mental space to consider apartment hunting. Though Simon knew you wouldn't thrive for long here, you had already expressed your dislike of the bathroom, and of the window placement. It gave him a little hope that you'd be able to go looking with them soon, that they'd be able to get a full new start soon, but for now it was still too early.

He crouches down next to the couch, carefully reaching over to gently caress your cheek. His thumb glides over a forming scar that’s still visible near your ear. His eyes search over your face, watching the way the light falls on your skin, the way your complexion is, the color of your hair. He maps out the way your face looks, the new changes that weren't there before, he wonders where every little new crease comes from.

You haven't spoken a lot about what the traffickers did to you, also understandably so. You said you were working through it in the therapy, but it didn't make them any less anxious about what happened to you.

"Mh…Welcome home Si…" Johnny's sleepy voice ruffs out, quiet and careful to not wake your sleeping form in his arms. He looks to Simon through half-lidded eyes, he swallows through his dry throat, moving just a tad to try and wake his sleeping limbs.

"When d'ye come back?"

Simon let's out a huff of a sigh, a small sound coming from deep in his chest. His hand moves from your sleeping face to Johnny's instead. His fingers gently gliding over the rough stubble, as he watches his partners soft blue eyes get more and more visible as he wakes up.

"An hour ago," Simon mumbles in response "didn't wanna wake the two of ya, made some pancakes though… " he looks towards the opening to the kitchen and winces, "Well I tried to."

"Hm, am sure they taste delicious, like always" Johnny says with a smile on his lips, his eyes closing as he leans his cheek against Simon's hand. It's a moment of bliss for the both of them, their own little cocoon of happiness, all neat and wrapped up with you in the middle.

It doesn't take long before you're stirring as well, sensing both their presences to be awake. Simon retracts his hand when you start moving your head, to make sure you don't bump into him. "Mornin' love" he whispers quietly, leaning in to place a soft kiss to your forehead.

Your lips break into a soft smile, an even softer sigh escaping you as you mumble something back that was probably supposed to be a good morning. Your eyes remain closed for as long as you can stand it, basking in Johnny's warmth and burying your face into his neck, eliciting a chuckle from him.

"C'mon loves," Simon grumbles rising himself back up to stand, hovering over the couch "let's eat yeah?"

The bedroom is dark and quiet, the only noise that could be heard above the ringing tinnitus in your ears would be Simon's heartbeat. You had always loved being smushed between the two, now more than ever it helped you feel grounded, safe.

You had been awake for a while now, softly listening to their breathing, Johnny's soft snoring and Simon's deep air flow. It's comfortable, nowhere else in the world you'd rather be in this moment. You just had one tiny hang-up about it all.

You needed to pee, really badly.

Johnny's arm was firmly draped around your waist, keeping a pressure that you usually liked while he pressed his chest into your back. You could feel his soft breath on the back of your neck, his presence is overpowering alone already, and next to Simon it's always like things are doubled for better or for worse.

Simon on the other hand, wasn't holding onto either of you per se. His arm was draped out to the side, allowing you to snuggle up to him and lay your head on his warm chest, meanwhile Johnny could use his arm as an extension of his pillow.

You could easily wiggle free if you wanted to, but that was the thing. Even though your brain screamed at you to get a move on to the toilet, you knew that as soon as you closed the door to the bathroom it would be screaming for different reasons.

You had a tendency to really hate your brain lately, and a sudden surge of indecisiveness didn't help the subject either. You don't know how long you've been laying here and thinking about getting up.

You had considered waking up Simon, he said you could, if there ever was anything yet your muscles didn't move.

There hadn't gone more than two nights between, before you had another nightmare that would wake you up. They'd always be there of course, either talking you back to sleep with kind words, or if sleep avoided you, they'd take you to the living room to watch a comfort movie, leaving the other to continue sleeping had they been so fortunate as to not wake up.

You felt beyond guilty about it. You knew that their sleep tended to border horrible already, and you certainly weren't helping it. They were exhausted from it, you could see it, maybe even more exhausted than you, and yet they never complained.

With a soft sigh you manage to wiggle free from Johnny's grip, wincing and recoiling every time one of them seemed to be waking up. Slowly but surely, you managed to get out of their hold, and both of them seemingly still asleep.

You could still remember earlier in your relationship with them when it was all still new and fresh. They'd be much more easily woken up by the tiniest movements, always on alert. They still were occasionally when they had just gotten home from deployment, but it didn't usually take long to get them back into that sense of comfort and safety.

The bed creaks as you settle in the end of the bed, crossing your legs and looking towards the little bathroom that's connected to the bedroom. It's right there, maybe if you're quick, close your eyes, hurry and maybe you can be faster than your fears.

Yet not a single muscle in you moves.

All you find yourself doing is sitting there and staring at the door. You've never felt more pathetic than you do now, and it's not even something you can control. Because god knows you wish you could control it, that you could will it away with a flick of the wrist.

Tears press on your eyes, and you snap them shut to stop them from falling. You refuse to cry, not now, not over something that's so stupid to you. You let out a heavy shaky sigh, your hands coming up to rub at your cheeks and smooth out to your neck. You let your head hang low, trying to get your brain to make up its mind.

You freeze when the bed creaks again but not from your movements this time around. You don't need to look back to know who it is, and another sigh escapes you when you feel his burly body mold itself against your back.

His blonde curls coming into view when he buries his head against your neck and places a featherlight kiss to your skin. He still seems half asleep, his body heavy against your back, using you to lean himself against as he processes what's going on.

"Bathroom?" he asks in a hoarse voice, his tongue smacking against his lips to wet them along with his throat.

You nod quietly, not finding it in yourself to answer him verbally, you have no idea what kind of tone would come out from your vocal cords. His arms tighten around you briefly to mimic a hug, his chest humming against your back when he acknowledges it.

"C'mon love," he leans back and rubs the remaining sleep out of his eyes. When he moves out of the bed you don't immediately follow him. Your eyes going back to Johnny as if to check that he's still sleeping, that you didn't ruin both of their cycles this time.

Simon's hand gently cups your cheek, guiding your gaze upwards to meet his own. "He's still asleep, c'mon" his hand moves from your cheek to your arm, hoisting you up to your feet. Once you get steady it moves again to settle on the back of your neck. A soft and guiding grip that he knows helps you relax, allows you to stop thinking about anything, and put your trust in him to get you to where you need to go.

It's a simple thing, not really needed in this context but you appreciate his attention to detail anyways.

You both quietly move to the bathroom so you can do what you need to do. He slowly sinks to the ground with a sigh, leaning up against the white wall while he lets you do your thing. He almost looks like he's fallen back asleep sitting up by the time you’re done.

You slide down beside him, leaning your head against his shoulder before he moves his arm to pull you into his chest. "I'm sorry," you whisper quietly against him, feeling the need to say it over and over again.

"Don't," he stops you quickly, squeezing you closer and placing a kiss to your temple. "You can't help it right now," he sighs and gently runs his fingers over your scalp. "You know that we'll always take care of you right? No matter what you need, big or small it's not a problem," he cranes his neck to look you in the eye.

"I know…" you whisper quietly, "I just feel like I'm ruining everything, nothing has been the same since…well you know…"

"What was done to you was cruel, and completely out of your control dove," he pauses briefly as if to think about the words he's going to say next. "None of it is your fault, a lot of things are different now yes, but it's not changing anything between the three of us, you needing a bit of extra help is not you ruining anything," he reassures you.

You let out a heavy sigh, curling into his body as his hold tightens around you. "It still doesn't feel good," you mumble into his chest, closing your eyes and enjoying his warmth. He had always been a bit of a human furnace.

"I know love, I know" he presses another kiss to your head, "It'll get better though."

A calm quiet settles over the two of you while you rest against each other on the ground. Your hands gently fiddle with his shirt while his own hands tap over your scalp. It doesn't take long before it starts hurting to sit on the hard ground.

"Let's go back to bed…" you suggest with a deep sigh, feeling him nod against you and begin to move to get back up.

You're not surprised to find that Johnny is still fast asleep, having not even moved an inch. He was always such a heavy sleeper when he finally was home, the safety it brought giving his body reprieve he wasn't able to get anywhere else.

Though he didn't fail to notice as you and Simon fell back into bed. He stirred slightly, groaning sleepily as you molded your body to his once again. He pulled you closer, burying his face in your neck and breathing you in.

"Where'd ye go" he asks quietly, his voice breathy and almost incoherent to you. His accent always got thicker around certain times; mornings included. Your back arched as you stretched out and got comfortable in his hold, pressing yourself into his chest while Simon comfortable next to the two of you.

"Bathroom," Simon answers slightly groggy, already feeling the pull of sleep beckoning him back under. Johnny mumbled something in response, but you didn't manage to catch it, already off in your own little world of dreams and sleep wrapped up nice and warm in-between them.

When you finally started getting better, it began looking up again. Both your boys were happy with the progress, and for once, you were too. You still had a long way to go, but small steps, one at a time showed progress. It also helped more of your usual personality come back, and of course not to mention the amounts of complaints you had about the apartment they had temporarily found.

Enough so that they finally decided to look at different listings and get a move on the whole process.

Johnny looked on with a smile, as you quietly went through the empty apartment like a cat on the prowl. It was the fourth place they had been to, each one before you had been unsatisfied with, and though Simon had liked the third place shown, he agreed it wouldn't be enough space.

So far you hadn't had any complaints about this one, it was spacious, had a little more room than the old place, and checked off almost everything in your checklist. As far as Johnny could tell, this could potentially be it.

He could definitely see it, lazy mornings spend in the bedroom, Friday movie nights on the couch, Simon and Johnny baking your favorite cake in the kitchen for your upcoming birthday. It was a life he could envision in this apartment, a happy space that was just for the three of you.

You had disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes now, and it got him curious enough to follow you. He walked over and leaned against the open doorway, his eyes landing on you standing in the middle of the room.

Having sensed his presence, you spoke without bothering to turn around and look at him, "There's no tub." His eyebrows creased, as his eyes scanned the small bathroom. There wasn't a whole lot of space, most definitely smaller than the last place, but not any worse in Johnny's humble opinion.

"An absolute need?" he asks you curiously, making his way over to you and sliding his arms around your waist. You let out a sigh and let yourself lean back against him, feeling his chin come to rest on your shoulder.

"Well, no but…" you chew on your lip while you try to formulate your words, but you never get a chance to finish your sentence.

"Right, I've had enough of this prick let's go," Simon appears in the doorway, his arms crossed and even with the black surgical mask on it wasn't hard to see that he was pissed off. Johnny moved to the side, keeping one hand on your hip as he looked back at his other partner.

"Why what's wrong?" you ask concerned, looking back at his darkened eyes, and crossed arms. As much as you had always enjoyed the muscles on his body, he had a very special way of looking threatening when he was angry.

You quietly went over to him through a few steps, Johnny gently letting you go, only being a few steps behind. "Prick's not worth our time, we'll find a new realtor" Simon grumbles, his stance becoming less standoffish as you come into his space.

His eyes soften as he looks at you, and then Johnny behind you. Whatever the realtor did or said really didn't sit right with him. "What'd he do?" Johnny asks in a tone that's as concerned as your expression.

"Doesn't matter," Simon answers his tone laced with annoyance, "we can find better than this place anyway, no tub." He uncrosses his arms to gesture around the bathroom, your own gripe with the place having no tub wasn't only yours.

"The both of ye really want that tub huh…"

Johnny's chuckle makes you smile, turning around to face him and crossing your arms to mimic Simon moments prior. "Of course, the tub is the most important part," you say cheekily looking over your shoulder again to see if Simon agreed with you.

"Obviously" he backs up you up proudly, watching on as Johnny looked at the two of you like you were ridiculous.

"Well, we better get goin' then, clearly this place would be better burning" Johnny laughs, his infectious happiness making you smile even when he ushers you out of the bathroom. You don't get all the way before you collide with something that might as well have been a brick wall.

You blink twice before realizing that the brick wall was a human, and the human was your realtor. You take a quick instinctive step to the side to get out of his way, but at the same time he takes a step back as well.

"Ugh finally, are the three of you done, I've got other appointments you know" The realtor barely even gets to finish his sentence before he's pushed back by Simon. He lets out a pathetic yelp when he drops his clipboard.

"Now listen here Mark, if you ever as much as look wrong in their direction again, let alone even try to actually insult them, I will personally make sure you never see the light-"

"Oookay, time to go love," Johnny's voice filters through Simons hyper specific threats, his hands resting on your shoulders as he steers you towards the door, leaving Simon to it. Despite your struggling and tries of looking back to call for your partner, you don't get free of Johnny's grip before your out in the hallway again.

"Christ…he's not gonna bash his teeth in again?" you ask nervously, trying to ignore the urge to go back in there and drag him out here. It wouldn't be much use, unfortunately he was a lot stronger than you.

"No of course not…the idiot isn't…well he's not that dumb, I think he's just gotta get the threats out of his system…fucker kind of deserved it," a crooked smile decorates his lips as he gently pulls you closer to him.

"He wasn't that bad…he's probably just stressed" you tried to reason, one hand gripping Johnny's forearm as you leaned into him. You had always been rather seeking of touch, even before what happened, but even moreso now, it always felt nice when they instigated it first.

"Darling he…"

"Okay but still, he shouldn’t get worked up so easily…" you decided on, leaving little room for arguing, not that Johnny ever wanted to on purpose.

"Ah know love…" Johnny sighs, his head perking up when Simon comes back out as well. He had always been a bit prone to anger, most of the time it was a quiet simmer inside him, but occasionally it would bubble out.

It was something he said he was working on, but sometimes you wondered how exactly he was doing that. It usually wasn't a problem, so he probably was in control of it, but it never failed to surprise you how quick he was to go off on someone if they were rude to either you or Johnny.

"We done here?" he asks clearly still in a mood, as he looks between the two of you.

"If you're done chewing his head off" Johnny said in response, knocking his head in the direction of the stairs so the three of you could get a move on. He moved away from you and started making his way to the stairs.

Simon took his place at your side, looking to you with a tinge of concern. "You aright?" he whispers quietly, as if he wasn't the one that had spouted a rather colorful threat to someone else. You let out a small, amused huff, nodding your head yes in the process.

"Yeah, I’m just fine."

"And uhm…how long is it gonna be?"

You're sitting quietly on top of the kitchen counter, your back leaned against the wall behind you as you watch Johnny cook. The new apartment suited you; it didn't take long for you to start decorating it with everything that screamed you. Both Simon and Johnny were happy to see it, it was going really well, until they got called for another deployment.

"Price said it would only take a few days, maybe a week" Simon pockets his phone and crosses his arms. He avoids your eyes like they'd burn him if he looked back, he knew he'd buckle so fast if you were using that soft disappointed look.

You hadn't been happy at all when Price made contact with the boys to let them know they'd be deployed for another mission. Theoretically you knew that they'd have to go back eventually, it wasn't like that part would change, but it still felt so soon.

You had only gotten fully integrated into this apartment for a few days now, and while you had done your best to make it home, it was still new. You didn't like the idea of having to be alone in it for even that amount of time.

Johnny hadn't spoken a word about it yet ever since Simon emerged in the kitchen with the news. Though his silence was a pretty clear indicator of his mood about it. Just moments prior he had been chatting away about everything and nothing, now he was quieter than a mouse.

"Look we don't want to go any more than you want to see us leave, but it's nothing we haven't done before," He moves over to stand beside you, his hand running over your thigh and giving it a squeeze. "I'll help you make a list, so you don't get lost in your head," he adds when your hands lay on top of his.

You both look towards Johnny, observing his movements that have become distinctively sharper. He moves the pan off the heat and turns off the stove, not turning to look at either of you for a good few more seconds.

"Don't ye think it's a bit early…" His nervousness is the first the Simon notes. He knows what he's thinking about, the fear of coming back home to you being gone once again. Simon wasn't too keen on the thought either, but their lives couldn't be stopped completely, they had to return at some point.

"We'll be back in no time, just like usual" Simon tries to reassure, at this point not only you and Johnny, but himself as well. Johnny nods, moving closer to the two of you and settling in-between your dangling legs.

He knows they don't have a choice in the matter, it's their job, it's what they signed up for and they have a duty to fulfill. They upped the security on the new apartment, and they've helped you learn some self-defense techniques, he has to put trust in those and in you. He has to believe that your safe, even on your own.

"Love…d'ya pick a movie yet?" Johnny changes the looming subject that puts dread in your mind, to something less thought consuming. You smile for yourself, turning slightly sheepish as you nod your head yes.

Simon seemingly already picked up on it, chuckling quietly at it "Your favorite?" At your confirmation, he scoffs amused, he didn't have anything against it, but you had been watching it on repeat the last week. He was surprised you were still able to watch it without getting bored, but it was your favorite for a reason.

"Aright love, let's go put it on the TV, let Johnny finish our dinner," he pats your thigh bringing Johnny in for a kiss before stepping away and leading you to the living room. You immediately aim for the couch, plopping down and making it creak a little from the sudden impact.

Your eyes go around to the various decorations and pieces of home you've placed around. You've done anything you can to make it feel like your old place, you knew it wouldn't have the exact same feel, but you could still make this new feeling a good one here.

Simon finds the remote and takes a seat next to you, allowing you to cuddle up to him while he flips through streaming services to find the right movie. Before long Johnny would come in with the food, you'd all watch the movie, talk and joke around before falling into bed, cuddling each other until each one of you fell into deep sleep, safely nestled in each other’s arms.

And even though you knew they'd have to leave on deployment again soon. You also knew that they'd come home safe and sound like they promised, and when they do, just like you promised, you'd be here open arms and warms smile, ready to bring them in to the sanctuary you've built.

#noctmoon fics #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #ghoap x reader #soap x ghost #ghoap #ghost x soap x reader #simon ghost riley x you #john soap mctavish x you #ghost x reader x soap #soap x ghost x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader

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syubseokie · 2 months

Text

all on my tongue (i want it) | khj

― pairing: kim hongjoong x pierced afab!reader ― genre: explicit, a lil fluff, idol au ― word count: 2.6k ― warnings: oral sex (m receiving), cum swallowing, pet names (baby, babe), reader has a tongue piercing, a hint of cockwarming ― summary: Your voice is coaxing but not demanding, and Hongjoong acquiesce to your siren call. Soon, the gentle prodding of your tongue bleeds into longer strokes and your lover shivers at the sensation. Yet, something feels different... OR The one where you surprises Hongjoong with a new tongue piercing ― notes: at the end.

"Do you think I'd suit a tongue piercing?"

The question is completely random and you had not even realised the words left your mouth until you noticed your sister stare at you with wide-eyes and an excited grin.

"Yes, oh my god!"

You hum, pulling a quick inhale on your vape, before asking, "Should we go get it done now?"

"Damn! Hongjoong only left last night and you're already spiralling." She teases. "Let me smoke this last cone and then we can go."

You wave your dismissively, thinking over the spontaneity of this afternoon's session with your sister and the upcoming event. It was not often your sister had a day off, but being that you were at home on your own for the next month, she decided to "pull a sickie" and crash your apartment; arms lined with snacks, a bag of the devil's lettuce, and her home-made gravity bong.

The sound of spluttered coughing brings you out of your quiet musing and you snort as she chugs back her fruit juice. "You good?"

She nods, a slight wheeze escaping her lips, before she reaches over to take a hit from your vape. You allow her to do so, stealing her drink and taking a gulp, before standing up and motioning her to follow. "Alright, let's go get a tongue piercing."

∞

"What are we getting today, hun?"

It suddenly hits what you're about to do as you fill in the consent form, and you hope your voice is clear of nerves when you reply, "Tongue piercing."

Once the form is completed and the payment finalised, you and your sister follow the piercer into a smaller room where she instructs you to sit on the edge of a black cushioned table. Your sister sits on a chair opposite you, playing absentmindedly with her own tongue bar, but you can see the excitement in her eyes as your piercer preps the required instruments.

"Don't be nervous," your sister chimes when she notices your gaze, "You're going to look so cool with it once it's done. And it doesn't even hurt!"

You glance at the clamp in the piercer's gloved grasp before looking back to your sibling. "You sure?"

She offers you a reassuring smile. "Trust me. The healing process is probably worse than the actual needle and it doesn't even take that long to heal either."

The piercer agrees, informing you of what to expect in the coming days and weeks as your tongue heals. They remind you to rinse your mouth daily with warm water and salt, and also advise what foods will be easier to eat during the next two weeks. "Are you ready?"

You inhale deeply, steeling your nerves. "Let's do it."

∞

Using the bathroom mirror, you stare at the cute barbell that sits on your tongue. After three-and-a-half weeks since your initial visit, you returned to the piercing studio to check the healing progression. You had spotted the light blue aurora borealis designed jewellery in the glass cabinet when you entered the store for your follow-up appointment, and after receiving the go ahead to change the piece to a slightly shorter bar, you requested the pretty one that had caught your eye.

Safe to say, you were very happy with your impulsive decision and you had a feeling your boyfriend would be too.

Speaking of...

The feeling of excitement (and, to be honest, relief) floods your system when you glance at your phone to see Hongjoong's text reminding you he and the members were finally back in the country. You do not consider yourself a needy partner, but you cannot deny how much you missed him — or at least being in the same time zone. Phone calls, voice notes, and sending tiktoks could only fill the gap of his missing presence so much, and you could not wait to wrap your arms around his frame once again.

Nor could you wait to wrap your tongue around his c—

The sound of his ringtone breaks through your thoughts, and you are quick to answer his call.

"Baby?"

A smile graces your features when you hear the familiar endearment, and you switch off the bathroom light before making your way into the living room. "Hi Joongie," you reply with a soft voice. "Are you out of the airport now?"

"I am. Did you want to come to our place or should I come to your apartment?"

You hum, mulling the options over. "I'm not too fussed. What's easier for you?" There is a bit of rustling on his end and you faintly hear Wooyoung's voice in the background.

"I'll come to your place," he decides. "I'll drop my things off first and shower before heading over. Is that okay?"

"Of course, love. Are you sure you're not tired, though? We can always see each other tomorrow or once you've settled back in. I'm not going anywhere, Joong."

Despite the tiredness you hear in his tone, he waves off your concern with assurance that he wants to see you. "I miss you."

His words make your chest flutter and you can't help but internally roll your eyes at how soft you are for him. "Alright then. I'll get some food sorted."

"You are heaven-sent. See you soon."

∞

It is just over an hour later when you hear the tell-tale sign of your apartment door opening, followed by the removal of shoes and Hongjoong's dulcet voice calling out for you. Having just finished whipping up a pot of stir-fry with whatever you had in your fridge, the aroma of a home cooked meal wafting through the air and the low sounds of lo-fi music welcomes your boyfriend into your place.

Quickly wiping your hands with a kitchen towel, you go to greet Hongjoong but his excitement to see you is palpable as he meets you halfway with a playful "Honey, I'm home!", before wrapping you in his embrace. You chuckle, allowing him to bury his head in your neck, and return his hug. His scent is familiar and overwhelming in the best of ways, solidifying his physical presence.

"I'm glad you're back," you murmur while gently running your fingers through his hair. "I missed you."

He responds with a low hum and his arms around you tighten just a fraction. "I missed you too. So much." He slightly loosens his hold enough to press a much-needed kiss to your lips, but before he can deepen the action, you pull away and offer him a knowing smile.

"Are you hungry? Food's ready."

He shakes his head and brings you back into his arms. "Not hungry right now. Not for food anyway." His mouth begins a trail from your collarbones, up your neck, and back towards your lips, his hands stationed in your hips to steady your wavering frame. "One month away from you is far too long."

You cannot help but sigh happily at the sensations he offers; tilting your head back to grant him access to your neck as he makes his way back down the opposite side. "You're being dramatic. It wasn't that bad. I'm sure you and your right hand became well acquainted again on the nights you really missed me."

Hongjoong huffs, his breath tickling your neck deliciously and you fight the urge to rub your thighs together because there was no way you were going to let him know just how much he was affecting you. God, you are so weak for him.

"While that's true," he says, his thumbs digging into your sides just a little deeper, making you emit a small, undignified sound, "It certainly doesn't beat the feeling of your tight pussy. Or your mouth."

His vulgar words stir something inside of you, and you quickly decide that food can definitely wait. "In that case," you hum, pushing him towards your sofa, "I have a surprise for you."

He responds with a single eyebrow raise before collapsing on the furniture as you settle on your knees in front of him. A knowing smirk plays on your lips when you see the outline of his semi pressing against the confines of his black jeans, and you waste no time in unzipping his pants and pulling him out of his briefs. A quiet hiss escapes his mouth once you begin stroking him gently, coaxing him into full hardness before placing a chaste kiss on the tip.

"Close your eyes, Joongie. Let me make you feel good."

Hongjoong does not argue; simply allowing his head to fall against the back of the chair and his eyes to flutter shut. Your touches are magic in the way he feels the tension in his muscles ease and a giant sigh mixed with relief and pleasure fall from his lips. Kitten licks from his tip down to the base are less of a teasing gesture and more of a warm up before the sound of you spitting into your palm and taking hold of his hard member makes his balls clench in anticipation. He moans softly and resists the urge to beg for your mouth. You know what he needs at this very moment, and all he has to do is enjoy it.

"Relax for me, baby."

Your voice is coaxing but not demanding, and Hongjoong acquiesce to your siren call. Soon, the gentle prodding of your tongue bleeds into longer strokes and your lover shivers at the sensation. Yet, something feels different—

With purpose, you flatten your tongue against Hongjoong's cock and drag it upwards in a painstakingly slow motion. His nostrils flare, and just as he opens his eyes to lock with yours, you swipe your muscle along the slit of the head, making sure he feels the piercing where you want him to.

"Holy fuck—" he gasps, staring at you in awe. "Baby, did you— fuck —did you get your tongue pierced?"

Your eyes twinkle in delight. Rather than respond verbally, you choose to focus on bringing your boyfriend to perfect absolution by taking him in your mouth and slowly pushing him down your throat. The sound he makes is one that has you clenching in excitement, and it isn't long before you feel his hands settle on the back of your head. You hum around his cock, the vibrations making him moan again, before dragging your lips and tongue back to the tip. You continue doing this in a relaxed manner for a few minutes, enjoying the sounds falling from your boyfriend’s lips, until you decide to up the ante by steadying your palms on his thighs and increasing your pace.

"Shit!"

Satisfied with his reaction, you carry on; occasionally meeting his dark gaze with your own, but never stopping. Even when you begin to feel that familiar dull ache in your jaw, you switch up your movements by including your hands to work in tandem with your mouth.

Hongjoong is in pure bliss. Soft pants and whispers of your name and how good you are drip in honey-covered ecstasy, and he believes that if the world were to end that moment, there is no other way he would go (except, maybe, between your thighs but semantics ). The sound of wet slurps mixed with the sensation of your pierced tongue and soft hands brings him closer to that just-out-of-reach high, but when you take him wholly in your mouth again — your nose pressing against his neatly trimmed pubic bone — and swallow, that high brushes against the frays of his sanity.

"Baby," he mutters with a choked gasp, "f-fuck, baby, I'm really—" another wheeze as his orgasm crawls up the base of his spine. "I'm really fucking close."

You do not pull back. In fact, your grip on his thighs tighten as you bob your head up and down his length with determination while maintaining eye contact. Drool leaks from the corner of your mouth with each push and pull, and there are unshed tears pooling in your waterline. You are not particularly fond of the mess that comes with giving head, but Hongjoong loves it messy and you love making him happy.

Hongjoong is at his wits ends and barely coherent when he tries to warn you. "Shit. Baby. I'm going to — f-fuck — I'm so close ." His words are desperate, body tense and breathing shallow. "Please, baby. Where? Where c-can I...?"

You pull back and take hold of his throbbing cock. Spews of curses and praise mixed with wet squelches resound loudly. You close your eyes and open your mouth with your tongue out.

The sight of the pretty coloured jewel sitting snugly on the awaiting muscle is enough to send Hongjoong over the edge.

A long, drawn-out groan is heard seconds before you taste the familiar thick, warm fluid. Your upper lip catches a bit of his release too and you eagerly swipe along its plushness. The pulsating member in your hand is a reminder that he is still going, and you teasingly stroke him until his whines signal his oversensitivity. Yet, even when he pleads your name with a warning hiss, you offer gentle kisses and soft licks to his softening cock.

—

Hongjoong shudders as exhaustion finally settles in. Normally, his stamina allows him to last a lot longer, but having gone without you than what is normal, he is not surprised at how quickly he succumbed to the pleasure of your warm mouth and knowing hands. Hongjoong does not know what nation he saved in his past life to have met you in this one, but as he watches you swallow his cum with a grateful sigh and a wistful smile, he wisely chooses not to question it. He is unsure how much time passes — though he suspects it has only been less than a few minutes — when you gently usher him to consciousness and hand him a hot bowl of the food you had prepared. There is another bowl in your hand for yourself, and he eagerly accepts the meal before gesturing to you to join him on the couch.

"Welcome home, Joongie."

Yeah. Hongjoong wisely chooses not to question it at all.

∞

A little something extra:

03:48am Buttcrack (Sister): A little birdy told me your boyfriend is home 👀 03:49am Buttcrack (Sister): Did you show him your piercing yet? 03:49am Buttcrack (Sister): What did he say? 03:51am Buttcrack (Sister): Helloooooo ??? 03:55am Buttcrack (Sister): Bro you better be dead or giving him head 03:57am You: It's literally crackhead hours wtf go to sleep 03:57am Buttcrack (Sister): What did Hongjoong say about your piercing? 03:58am You: Idk I was too busy sucking his dick 03:58am Buttcrack (Sister): Gross 03:58am Buttcrack (Sister): 🤢🤢🤢 03:59am You: gave him that hwak-TUH gawk gawk 3000 04:00am Buttcrack (Sister): brotha eugh 04:02am You: Fuck off I'm going back to sleep

Switching your phone to DND and placing it back on the charging dock, you curl back into Hongjoong's arms and close your eyes. His cock inside of you twitches and, despite the sensitivity you feel as a result of the activities that took place after your meal, you clench around him.

"Who were you texting?" Your boyfriend tiredly mumbles as he drags you on top of him.

"My sister."

He makes a humming noise and softly traces patterns along your bare back. "What did she want?"

"Wanted to know what you thought of my piercing. Told her I was too busy sucking your dick to ask." You answer, sleep dragging you into its warm embrace.

It is silent for a few moments. You are on the edge of fully succumbing to the land of dreams when Hongjoong's voice brings you back—

"Maybe I should get a tongue piercing."

―

fin.

a/n: hey, hi, hello!

uh…it's been a minute lol. and i'm an ateez girlie now (atiny wassuuuuuup)! i've had this sitting in the dungeons for a while after i spontaneously decided to get my tongue pierced at the start of this year when my partner visited their home country for a month. fun fact: all interactions with reader and reader's sister are actual conversations that transpired between my own sister and i (because she's the enabler out of all my siblings lmao). anywho, thought this would be a little fun thing to publish after two years of radio silence. i have been going through the trenches y'all and the imposter syndrome hit HARD when it came to my writing.

thank you so much for reading my work. i am always open to thoughts and feedback, so feel free to drop a like, reblog or leave me a comment!

please look forward to my other work ♡

―

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#written by syubseokie #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #ateez smut #kim hongjoong #hongjoong x y/n #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong ateez #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n

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