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tteokdoroki · 5 months

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THIRD TIME'S A CHARM - kento nanami.

✩ — about. “my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it." kento nanami never cared for workplace shenanigans. he never took his mind off of work. and he never thought he would develop feelings for his coworker, nor expect for them to feel the same way about him. what happens when he misses your three attempts to ask him out? perhaps reddit will know... ( 5.5K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, angst, happy ending - video banner ! AITA-verse!au, office romance!au, mutual pinining, cluelessness, misunderstandings, christmas time, mentions of alcohol, office worker!nanami, afab!reader.

✩ — things to note. happy monday everyone, i have for you yet another fic to go with my gojo one! this story was written as a gift for @antizenin bc i love her so bad !! can be read as a stand-alone but does make refrences to my AITA gojo fic !! thank you to @todorosie for beta reading! hope you enjoy beloveds <3 - series m.list ⋆ m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it. my chest feels tight when they’re away and whenever they’re nearby my heart beats so fast i feel like i might pass. it would be a pleasure to date them or to just stand by them… there’s only one problem. i’m not usually the type of guy who engages in workplace shenanigans, i hardly know how to interact with people outside of the confines of my work. my coworker has made a few advances, at least i think they have. i don’t know how to respond or whether or not i’m over-thinking this. do they even like me? is it all in my head? i could really do with some advice… how should i go about this and telling them how i feel? TLDR: i have a crush on my coworker but i can’t, for the life of me, tell if they like me back.

you’ve always liked your co-worker, kento nanami.

to those who don’t know him, he appears quite stoic and blunt, cold even. like the crisp weather at the start of winter, air that’s sharp and bites unpleasantly at your nose. nanami tends to act the same towards those he holds no affections for, blocking them out as if he were a fortress made of stone.

one may even paint a picture of kento nanami as a lone wolf — callous and uninterested in the buzz of the office. he stays late, works long hours, never engages with the gossip on your floor after work.

that’s only the beginning of how the world sees your blonde co-worker.

but you have come to know nanami, in your short time working for Gojo Corporations. you’ve not been there very long, still adapting to the office culture and your brand new line of work, but in the few months that you have been finding your equilibrium in the office — you’ve gotten used to nanami’s demeanour, his ethic, his lifestyle. you’ve come to appreciate it, and him.

the man works hard, with a quiet confidence about him that puts your mind at ease — a quality you only wished that you had. it makes you curious, how little he seems to care about what it is Gojo Corp actually does but how much of his time he puts into it and how much he cares for the people around him too. you’ve learned, by taking the desk to nanami’s left, that he’d risen pretty quickly in the company, he begrudgingly seems to be gojo’s (your boss’) favourite employee and that he’s surprisingly good at what he does for someone who hates it so much.

he presents at meetings and debfriefs calmly, always gets through his tasks with an air of rationale and when you’d first started…nanami was kind, gently leading you through your own work as if he’d taken your hand in his and was guiding you to some place warmer — away from the chill of your nerves and self-doubt. in his own way, he cared. nanami was not as cold as one might think.

there’s so much more to him than what meets the average human eye. ever since joining the company — you found yourself curious, wanting to know everything about him. what drives him, what pisses him off, where he wants to go and who he wants to be. beneath his calm, collected and commanding aura there is a man whose heart holds many secrets. a man you want to know… and might even want to be with.

the very thought of being with nanami makes you shy where you wish that you weren’t. maybe then, you could tell the blonde office man how handsome you thought he looked while concentrating on filing reports and paperwork. perhaps you could then steel your nerves and stop the shake in your voice while telling him how much you like the low dip in his own when he explains KPIs and stock markets to you. not to mention how hard he works on keeping his patience with not just you… but the interns megumi, nobara and yuuji as well (yuuji was the brother of someone your boss new very well back in college, apparently). the ways in which he’s taken the young trio under your wing, it’s a wonder you haven’t had baby fever yet.

nanami even extends the same grace to your man-child of a boss, he wouldn’t have stayed working for Gojo Corp and for satoru gojo if he didn’t. in some ways, they were like a little family at the company, and nanami was the responsible one always picking up gojo’s messes and holding the others together.

especially on days when gojo came into work emotional over developments in his ex’s new life.

still, nanami stayed.

and your crush on him bloomed like a light frost spreading across the double-glazed glass of a window.

you felt your heartbeat speed up whenever nanami was close by and you could smell the ginger and cinnamon on him, not to mention, the hairs on the back of your neck would stand whenever your hands brushed over one another’s. nanami was warm on the inside, you knew that — he liked his interns, he cared for gojo especially when the days were tough (like when he holed himself up in his office after finding out his ex was getting engaged). he even brought lunch for the office floor. mostly soup for haibara whenever he got sick.

you knew deep down that nanami was soft and loving — you felt that he needed love too. you wanted to be the one to give it to him, even if it was the last thing you did.

ATTEMPT #ONE - THE CHRISTMAS PARTY.

satoru gojo’s office holiday parties were far from what was considered appropriate for the workplace.

with thousand dollar bottles of booze and jars of caviar dotted about the main conference room — it was hard for anyone not to be in high spirits. the notes of cheery christmas carols drift through your ears and the tinsel that your boss had thrown over your shoulders scratches at your neck uncomfortably. you’re not one for buzzing celebrations like this, they’re too noisy and loud, but gojo has made you promise to attend this year's party… and he was oddly convincing for a manager this unserious.

ultimately, you were glad that you’d decided to come because while being spoiled by your boss was all good and fun — it provided you with the perfect social setting and opportunity to speak to your longtime crush, nanami.

like you, he wasn’t a fan of forced mingling in the office, and had no interest in consoling his tipsy manager who was currently crying up a storm into one of his poor intern’s shoulders. the blonde office man kept to himself, tucked away by the bright lights of the christmas tree as he nursed a piping hot coffee — he wouldn’t be getting drunk on company time.

you manage to break away from conversing with shoko and make your way over to the latter co-worker, swallowing down your nerves with a swig of the moscato satoru had so generously picked out for you — knowing that you liked the sweeter stuff and that it would probably loosen your lips enough for you to get this over with (he and those interns were fully aware of how much you admired kento nanami). sliding up beside the man, your long, embroided skirts swish against his ankles — only serving to pull his attention away from his work phone and onto you.

taking a sip of your drink to warm yourself up with liquid courage and break the ice — you hum, quietly. “any plans for the holidays, kento?” you ask him simply, and though your deep and gorgeous brown eyes stay trained on the bubbles in your glass — you can feel kento’s own chocolatey pair land on the side of your face. whether they’re scrutinising you or admiring you, you can’t actually tell.

if you were looking, you’d be able to see the way that the sharp edges of kento’s usual expression soften across his face — the straight line of his lips are parted, his furrowed brows becomes relax and his posture no longer ridged, but instead, at ease. if you were looking you’d know that out of all of his co-workers (aside from the interns), kento is most comfortable around you. he find your meek and cautious demeanour adorable and the way that you sometimes awkwardly flutter around him in conversations is cute.

“not much, just working.” he responds quickly and shortly. to anyone else, they would have taken nanami’s reply as cold and callous, but you? you smile softly, glad that he’s even taking part in your small talk.

you’ve always been a little quieter than most colleagues at Gojo Corp, but you’ve always tried your hardest to make connections and bring the group together. you care for the interns so deeply, helping them to learn from your initial mistakes at the organisation and to do better. he likes that you’re good company, knowing just the right things to ask and when, allowing for comfortable silences when no one in the team feels like talking.

nanami likes you.

and perhaps that’s what makes him awkward around you as well, the very fact that he can’t find fault in you — that you’re too sweet and kind and gentle to complain about like he would with nagging gojo. what does he say to someone as wonderful as you?

he doesn’t want the moment to end, however. “how about you?”

the blonde says your name softly, as though he’s testing it out on his tongue — and you can’t help the warmth that blooms like a spring rose in your chest at the honeysuckle sound. you’re hot all over and you’re sure it’s not the alcohol.

“f-family!” you squeak shyly, voice high pitched as you fend off excitement — having nanami elaborate on your conversations isn’t a usual occurrence. coughing, you take a sip of your drink and knock it down a notch. not that kento would want you to, since he finds your enthusiasm to chat with him so endearing. “i have family…coming. o-over the break! flying in from abroad, so it’s going to be special.” the blonde’s brow raises with interest, and you latch onto the opportunity to speak with him further, basking in your quiet moment together. “i’m not usually one to cook, but my mother and i will be handling dinner together! so it’ll be a mix of all sorts of foods. traditional and from our home country too.”

nanami slips his work phone away in order to give you his full attention. “that sounds…wonderful,” he settles on saying. he wonders what your family is like, if they’re as shy and endearing as you or louder like that of the dynamics at the office. he imagines you surrounded by love, by laughter and warmth… and can’t help but yearn for the same. “i do miss home cooking, christmas in new york isn’t quite the same as japan.”

“t-then you’re welcome to spend christmas with us!” you blurt before your mind can even process what you’ve said. now you really must be drunk, or tipsy at the very least. who just invites their coworkers over to their house without getting to know them first. “we’ll have more than enough to fix you a plate…if you’d like,” despite your overexcited blunder, you remain hopeful that nanami will accept your invitation or at least get the hint. that you want to know him better and spend more time with him.

but nanami doesn’t take the hint, he can’t seem to figure out why you’d want to spend time with him outside of work, and so, puts up a respectful boundary. nanami smiles and puts down the coffee he’d been drinking. “i wouldn’t want to impose on your time with family.”

you frown, the stacked bricks of your excitement coming tumbling down. “kento that’s not what i meant—“

“look!” gojo cuts in, slurring from across the room as he points a shaky finger at the two of you by the tree. “they’re standin’ un’da the mistletoe!”

both yourself and nanami look up in disbelief to find yourselves standing under calculatedly placed mistletoe — no doubt due to the meddling of your boss. though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to kiss nanami, it was more of question as to whether or not he wanted to kiss you.

“gojo, you’re drunk. and i really should be getting back to work.” kento insists, clearing his throat and immediately looking away from you with a bashful blush. you’re perfect, and darling, and to kiss you really would make kento’s day…but he’d never want to make you uncomfortable or put you on the spot like this. “i have budget reports for your meeting in a few hours.”

“fuck the reports, don’t you wanna kiss the pretty lady?” nanami looks to you, shying away from the conversation and squirming under the sudden attention of the office party-goers. “i wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable.”

“i-i wouldn’t be.” comes your hushed whisper.

nanami coughs to clear his throat, flustered by you. “are you sure?”

having had enough of your back and forth, dancing around one another like two teenagers confessing to each other on white day — gojo steps in, forcing his drunk yet authoritarian hand. “come on nanamin,” the white haired man drawls impatiently. “if you don’t kiss her! i will!”

“no!” you and nanami bark adamantly in unison — causing gojo to smirk and stagger happily while megumi and yuuji hold him up.

“then go ahead and kiss. or i’ll have to fire you.”

the idea of losing your job over a trivial christmas tradition is enough to spook you into agreeing. that and you couldn’t imagine kissing satoru gojo… the thought makes you gag to yourself. “fine,” nanami grunts before looking to and addressing you next, “do you mind?”

you nod once, breath shaky. “it’s okay.”

“where are you most comfortable being kissed?”

“um, i haven’t… i’ve not had my first yet so…”

“ah, i see. i won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable then.” hearing the news makes something weird… stir within the blonde’s firm chest. being your first kiss, his co-worker’s first kiss is an appealing thought — almost a little twisted and selfish for him. to have that honour, to be the one you would give it to, makes his head spin.

gojo cute through his train of thought, however. “god, would you too hurry it up!”

nanami rolls his eyes at his boss (which would have gotten anyone else fired.) but let’s the corners of his pink lips quirk up into a subtle smile directed at you, and only you. cautiously, he leans down as though not to spook you like a deer in the woods, and takes your hand in his larger and more calloused one. “sorry about this.” he hums quietly, the rough pad of his thumbs traversing through the ridges of your knuckles.

“i-it’s fine.” you repeat your earlier sentiment, holding your burning breath as kento drags the back of your hand up to his lips. dark brown eyes meet even darker ones — your gentle gazes meeting in the middle as the tensions rise within the conference room. your entire body melts like butter in a pan and your heart bursts out your chest with the crescendo of the christmas music in the background when kento nanami presses a soft chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

your kiss under the mistletoe.

once he breaks eye contact and snaps out of it — nanami is quick to announce is departure, covering up his flustered expression. “now, i really must be getting back to work. thank you for the party gojo, kids,” he nods at you softly with an utterance of your name and leaves not long after, leaving you with a flurry of butterflies in your tummy.

leaving you a sheepish, warm mess because while you had intended to ask nanami out and failed, you still managed to get somewhat of a kiss.

you press your hand to your lips, feeling the warmth of kento’s lips embedded into the skin there. somehow, you find it within yourself to ignore gojo's whine for a proper mistletoe liplock in the background — choosing to focus on the lingering touch left by your crush.

“how about the receptionist, she’s into you!” you hear yuuji suggest, earning a cheer from your stupid silver haired boss.

the three interns plus gojo disappear from the party after that, while you remain stuck in place like a statue made of stones— repeating the kiss in your head over and over again, in your thoughts drowning in images of kento nanami.

ATTEMPT #TWO - THE SECRET SANTA.

“good morning, kento!”

“good morning to you too,”

bristling from nanami’s warm greeting (as well as him calling you by your first name), you shuffle into the seat beside him with cold cheeks and bright eyes — doing your best to quietly shift out of your winter attire to make sure you don’t disturb the rest of the conference room. you’ve just snuck into the team meeting for Gojo Corp’s annual secret santa. this year would be your first time taking part and it took a hell of a lot of bribing (not really, just some locally made daifuku and the number of the receptionist gojo might be crushing on) to convince your boss to give you nanami for the special festive event.

picking out a gift for your blonde haired and stoic presenting crush proved difficult at first. you already knew that kento spent a lot of time at the office, working hard and dedicating himself to hours of paperwork — but that wasn’t exactly useful to know when it came to gift giving. however, after weeks of gathering intel by tapping into whatever office buzz nanami was involved in and sharing short exchanges with him by the coffee cart outside of Gojo Corp, you’ve managed to learn two things about kento nanami.

one, his appreciation for something homemade or cooked — like the quaint family owned bakery not too far from the office.

and two, his dream destination. the one place that he’s always wanted to vacation to — Kuantan, Malaysia.

now you couldn’t exactly afford to just splurge and buy him a ticket over there, not to mention there was a considerate budget placed on gifts…but what you could do is bring nanami’s favourite things to the office. while gojo sets out the rules for staff, you gently place your carefully wrapped presents on the table before you, again, trying to avoid making a ruckus with the crinkling wrapping paper.

“you’re a little later than usual.” nanami comments to you in a low tone, having been watching you this entire time.

he would feel weird saying it out loud, but he notices that you’re always early into the office — clicking in around twenty minutes to nine every day and that you take your time in setting up your desk for the day. as though you have a routine to calm your anxieties.

“i had to stop by somewhere for a last minute gift.” you grin after a hushed quip. and nanami can’t help but find it contagious. you’re a warm ray of sunshine to him — one that he can’t help but want to bask under and be near, especially during this winter cold. you make kento feel at peace with your calm aura. the way you speak so tenderly and kindly. as he turns his attention back to a blabbering gojo, he finds himself growing jealous of whoever received your gift. whoever it is, he hopes that they appreciate your thoughtfulness.

after the rules are done, everything is exchanged between assigned pairs as gojo calls up who was responsible form who.

elation courses through nanami’s veins once he learns that his secret santa was you — happy to know that he is about to be on the receiving end of your perfectly wrapped presents.

“i hope you like them,” you bleat shyly, passing him the leopard print-covered gifts. the very sight makes him grin, since the paper matches his usual work tie.

the blonde takes his time unwrapping each layer of paper — as if he doesn’t want to ruin all the hard work you put into presenting this perfectly for him. a strong wave of fondness crashes over your co-worker once the first present is revealed. nanami’s favourite, freshly baked sandwich from the japanese bakery downtown. the one he visits every day, and the same sandwich he orders every time. the one that fills him with nostalgia and reminds him of home.

the next gift is even more thoughtful, and he fights off the urge to clutch his chest — as if cupid has shot an arrow right through his heart and made it yearn for you and your kindness. it’s a crocheted water lily, like those found in the Taman Gelora park in Malaysia. the same park that nanami has always wanted to go to.

there’s a little postcard of the location too — with a note scribbled in your precise handwriting, wishing nanami a happy christmas. he tries not to dwell on the heart signed next to your name.

your saccharine voice slices through kento’s wild and appreciative thoughts delicately and he spares you a glance, watching your features as they illuminate with happiness from his reaction. you can tell that he likes your gift, and that fills you both with joy. “i heard from a little bird that you’ve always wanted to take a trip to Kuantan. and while i couldn’t get you a ticket myself, i figured these would be the next best thing. plus some food for your flight.” you joke while nanami thumbs the ridges of the yarn making up his water lily gift.

he laughs then, remembering how yuuji had grilled him about his dream vacation weeks back. it must have been for you.

you’re so selfless and thoughtful, it still blows the blonde office man’s mind that you would have gone through the trouble of getting him such a gift. most times, colleagues at Gojo Corp settle for fancy chocolates or snooty vouchers for department stores… but you used so much of your own time and effort to create something that kento nanami would truly appreciate. it drives him mad that he can’t seem to figure out why. why would you do something so nice for him?

“i wish i could have gotten you something in return.” he mumbles fondly.

“i don’t need anything from you kento,” you say sweetly, making his heart race as you put your hand over his. “i appreciate you and you’re my friend. i don’t need anything more.” you figure now is a bad time to confess to him, in front of everyone. though you might have chosen the wrong words — because while you do want more from nanami, he now thinks that you don’t, pulling away from you slightly. “i… i appreciate everything you do for the company. a-and i like spending time with you. being your friend.”

you facepalm internally, knowing you could have worded yourself better — but the realisation comes a little too late, for nanami is already pulling away from you, his once soft smile falling into place with the harsh lines of a frown. “thank you for the gifts,” he says, a little colder. now that he’s figured out why you truly made him those gifts. you see nanami as a friend, a good one. nothing more, like he had secretly hoped. “i must be getting back to work.”

“o-oh but kento—“ he looks down at you icily, you have no idea why he’s being so cold. he hasn’t a clue either, it’s not like you know of his affections or fondness towards you. you thought that calling yourselves friends would be just fine… at least until you found the confidence to confess properly. “nanami…did i offend you? i didn’t mean to pry with your gifts! i just wanted them to be perfect—“

“—you’re fine. just… duty calls. paperwork.”

“oh, right.” you reply, weak and defeated, thinking that he’s mad at you. rejecting you again. “good luck nanami…”

“thanks,” he mumbles. “for this, and the gift.”

“you’re welcome,” you say, mostly to yourself but before you can say more he’s disappeared from the conference room and gone back to his cubicle.

ATTEMPT #THREE - THE EVE OF CHRISTMAS.

as mentioned before, your boss isn’t exactly the serious type.

satoru gojo is silly and often irresponsible in regards to work. he’s had a lot to deal with and a lot to learn, he covers his mistakes with charms and smiles, but he’s learning. and when it comes down to it, satoru cares for the company, the office and most importantly — his staff.

which is why he makes it a rule that no one in his main team should work over the christmas period — with no exceptions.

of course, the ever-dedicated kento nanami has always found a loop-hole in avoiding the festive rule and his manager’s simple christmas wish. which is why, much to your chargin, satoru has meddled a little bit and sent you into the office to send nanami home. usually you wouldn’t mind the opportunity to speak with your crush, but after your second rejection from him in such a short space of time, you’re not so sure your little heart can take seeing the man before the holidays.

you’d agreed to satoru’s request nonetheless, your family didn't arrive until tomorrow and you couldn’t live with yourself if you let kento work through the night. you still had feelings for him after all.

when you arrive at your office, it’s dark and dim — matching the evening and it’s weather outside. you assume that any cleaning staff have already gone home, instructed by nanami who would also hate to keep people behind on Christmas Eve. it seems like him to offer to clean up after himself.

rounding the corner, you spot him in the conference room, tucked away by the tree from your christmas party as he taps away at his work laptop — no doubt finishing the Q3 report. you push past the glass door and make your way inside, tugging your scarf, hat and coat off while you watch nanami work. you hang them all up on a nearby coat rack.

“i know you’re there,” he speaks into the dark silence. “is that you, satoru? i’m not going home.”

“actually, satoru sent me in here to make sure you weren’t working on Christmas Eve.” you respond in an even tone, ignoring the slash of hurt over your heart when nanami fails to even spare you so much as a glance upon hearing your dulcet voice.

he instead scoffs, returning to his work. “tell him that i’m fine. i don’t need to be babysat. i know when to take a break.” kento doesn’t why he’s being so harsh with you, it’s not like you knew of his feelings. calling him your friend had been a token of kindness, but he let his rationality slip away and acted out because… what? he was afraid of your rejection?

despite his mean words, you stand your ground and refuse to leave kento alone. “i figured you might say that, so i bought you some food. these are cookies from the bakery that you like and they should keep you going,” you rummage in your tote for a small of cookies — pushing them across the large conference table for your stubborn blond co-worker. “the girl that works there is sweet. maybe we should go sometime, we can take a break from your work and have some cold turkey sandwiches ahead of Christmas Day—“

“if i wanted sweets i would have called up that meddling boss of ours, satoru,” nanami seethes, losing his patience. the more he looks at you, those big brown eyes and your soft, beautiful face, the more hurt he feels, the more nauseated he feels knowing that you might not like him the way he likes you. as just friends, instead of something more. “why are you here?”

you blink back your suprise. “w-what?”

“don’t you have family to be spending the night with?”

“i do it’s just… i worry about you, nanami. you work too hard, it’s christmas.”

“i really, really would like to finish the report so i can go home.”

your face scrunches up with rage and using that same fury, you march over the blonde man in three short strides — grabbing his chair and whirling him around to face you. you slam his laptop closed with enough power to shatter the damn thing, fixing nanami to look at you. ”what is wrong with you?”

“pardon?”

“i’ve… i’ve been trying all month to show you how much..how much i care about you and how much i like you. but it’s like you don’t even see me.” your voice warbles despite how angry you are, tears threatening to spill over the edge of your lashes. everything hurts, you don’t know what you’ve done to make nanami resent you in the way that he does now. perhaps if you were different, more confident and self assured maybe he would notice your gestures and implications. maybe he would like you back.

you wish for the darkness of the office to swallow you whole and make you disappear as you and nanami do nothing but stare blankly at each other. however, the lights on the obnoxious christmas tree continue to flash in the corner — illuminating the crystal tears clumped in your lashes and the slope of your features with a perfect golden glow. nanami sees you, he always has…but what good would a man like him be to a girl like you? sure, he wants to settle down, wants christmas with someone he loves, somewhere comfortable where he doesn’t have to worry about a thing — let alone money.

…but nanami is a tough nut to crack, he keeps to himself so much that even now you’re struggling hard to get him to speak his truth, and his feelings. he wouldn’t want you to give up trying even while he struggles to open up.

“i see you.” finally, kento finds his confidence and admits his truth to you. “i always have.”

he stands from his seat, towering over you and you stumble back. “do you? i’ve tried so hard… to tell you…”

the blonde leans down to your height and your words trail off, overwhelmed by him. “to tell me what?”

he prays that you can’t hear the pound of his heart against his ribcage or the blood rushing through his ears… but nanami has never stepped out of line or taken a risk and if he doesn’t, break the rules, he could risk losing the one good thing at this god forsaken place. “that i… that i like you. kento. i-i’m fond of you.” you exhale through your words, succumbing to everything that makes up kento nanami. his scent, gingerbread and fresh mint, makes you dizzy, his proximity makes your world tilt on its axis and you’re so nervous that you latch onto the collar of his dark blue dress shirt to keep yourself steady.

nanami seizes the opportunity to pour into you every emotion that he can’t bring himself to say. his large hands settle gingerly on the small of your back and his warm breath coasts over your fleshly lower lip, as if to ask for permission to kiss you properly. “may i?” comes his timbre voice, equality as shaky as yours had been earlier. you shake your head ‘yes’, giving nanami your consent to press his lips against your own in a life changing kiss. the action is tender, guiding you in all of the right places where you lack experience. the fists you'd formed in the collar of his shirt loosen the more that nanami works your lips in his gentle kiss — warming the frost over your little heart.

“i’m quite fond of you too,” he says your name after finally giving you the room that you need to breathe and kento brushes a thumb over your the swell bottom lip before he kisses you gently again. “i’m sorry i didn’t say so earlier.”

still holding onto him, a breathy chuckle escapes you as if you’re in shock. “w-what…what changed your mind? i thought you didn’t like me like that…”

“it wasn’t my mind that needed changing. it was the way i saw how you felt about me… i should have asked instead of assuming you only saw me as a friend. that was my mistake,” nanami explains carefully, choosing his words wisely. “you’ve been fair and kind to me, and i failed to give you the same grace due to my own doubts. i admire you, and should have confessed to you sooner but i—“

“but you wanted to finish working first, i get it.” you giggle and lean up to peck kento on the lips, stealing the words right out of his mouth. “just… please talk to me next time. i thought you were mad at me.”

your blonde co-worker, crush and now.. partner? (that was to be decided) gives your waist an apologetic squeeze — acknowledging his mistakes. “i owe you that much,” he replies warmly, “now how about those turkey sandwiches you were talking about?” nanami questions you awkwardly, in his own charming way of asking you out for a date on christmas eve.

after packing up and like a gentleman, he retrieves your scarf, hat and coat from the nearby coat rack by the door and gently pulls them over you one by one. like he cares, like he might even love you. he even zips you up to protect your cheeks from the bitter cold. nanami folds his own coat over the bend of his and grasps your hand firmly in his — keeping you close as you walk out of the office, a newly formed christmas couple.

somewhere off in the distance, the boss of the Gojo Corp office watches with a sly grin. while satoru might not have gotten his holiday romance, he’s glad his little plan was enough to get yourself and nanami together.

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luvring · 3 months

Text

AN INCH BETWEEN US

osamu x gn!reader | ~800 words, he calls you hon once, you're getting married! :3

“you don’t usually get nervous.”

“well,”—osamu fiddles with his cufflink, eyes trained on the metal around his finger—“today’s kind of a big deal, isn’t it?”

make sure you don’t see each other before you get out there, atsumu warned as he pat your fiancé’s back. bad luck or somethin’.

doesn’t make sense if we’re doin’ a first look, idiot.

oh, shut up. don’t look at each other ’til then, then!

your back rests against the door, his on the other side keeping it from closing. maybe it’s just a silly superstition, but it cements today as something real, reminds you that it’s happening.

you reach your hand around to search for his own. “at least we’ll be together the whole time. and then we can say goodbye, and go home, and get out of these clothes, and sleep—”

osamu groans and rests his head against the wood—you don’t think he’s slept properly in two weeks, head scrambled and busy with preparations and the same nervous buzz as yours; the fact that he fell asleep before 1am last night was a miracle.

his hand finds yours, engagement ring resting cool against your skin, palm warm and a little rough. he mumbles, “thank god i closed the shop for a few days, if you told me to wake up any earlier than 9 tomorrow i think i’d die.”

“why are you- we haven’t even gotten to the actual wedding, ’samu.”

“okay? i’m tired and ’m gonna get even more tired. i just wanna cuddle at home. can a man not dream?” he defends, and all but whines. you snort but relent, letting him pull your hand closer and settle into a quiet.

“what if i fall?” he blurts out.

“...what?” a laugh escapes you. “you won’t fall.”

“i could trip down the aisle.”

“you won't.”

he squeezes your fingers. “didn’t realize i was marrying someone who could see the future?”

“’samu. you won’t fall, but if you get in my head and i fall, i’m blaming you,” you warn with a teasing lilt.

a beat passes, and you can tell he’s smiling as you stare at the couch ahead of you.

sitting on a wooden hotel floor, wedding attire on and hair not done, bed covered in supplies and friends’ outfits, the buzz of the air conditioner making it a little too cold in your room—you think you’re content like this, because at least you’re here with him.

shuffling a little closer, he says your name.

“hm?”

the inch between you feels a little bigger as osamu lifts your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles, lingering on your ring finger a second longer than the others—“i’m glad i get to marry you.”

your grip tightens, and if osamu listened carefully, you think he could hear your heart trying to beat out of your chest in search of his.

the elevator dings somewhere down the hall.

“i’m glad i get to marry you, too.”

“samu!” his twin’s voice rings out. “are you done cryin’, or do i haveta drag y’back to get your hair done?”

“god, ’tsumu, yeah, i’m comin’, stop yellin’!” he chides with a huff.

atsumu scoffs before replying—something about his twin being ungrateful for all he does—then walks back to the elevator. you hear a sigh. “guess i should go, huh?”

a thumb rubs the back of your hand, and you almost tell him to stay, but there isn’t much time, and it won’t be long before you’re pushing it. taking a deep breath, you let go to stand up first. “mhm.”

the door squeaks at the weight now gone as you both stretch.

you turn to say goodbye, the open door and shadow in the hall taunting you, but freeze when a familiar hand starts to push the door open.

“wh- samu!” your hand flies up to push his grey bangs out of view.

“woah- what- shit- sorry, sorry. habit, was gonna kiss ya,” he apologizes with a stumble.

panic evaded, your heart rate comes down and he huffs. “my- seriously, hon, you’re lucky my hair isn’t done yet.”

“...sorry, i—” you try to hide a laugh. “i’m sorry, i panicked.”

“no, really?”

“’samu,” you whine, embarrassment painted across your face, though he can’t see. he laughs outside, and you try to ignore the heat in your face.

“...at least you’ll kiss me later, right?” you ask quietly.

“....yeah.” there’s a smile in his voice, a pause, a rustling of fabric as he pats down his suit once more. “see you out there?”

you place your hand on the doorknob. “see you out there.”

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#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #osamu x reader #osamu fluff #osamu x gn!reader #haikyuu x gn!reader

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pucksandpower · 4 months

Text

Think I Need Someone Older

Fernando Alonso x Ocon!Reader

Summary: you know you should stay away from your brother’s ex-teammate, but if it’s wrong, why does it feel so right?

Warnings: 18+ content, manipulation, pregnancy

You look around with wide eyes as you walk through the paddock, following your brother as he gives you a tour. This is your first time at a race weekend, and the excitement and nerves are battling inside you. Esteban has told you so much about his world, but seeing it in person is entirely different.

The smell of rubber and gasoline hangs thick in the air. Mechanics and engineers are buzzing around the garage, focused intensely on the sleek pink and blue car before them. Esteban places a hand on your shoulder, guiding you forward.

“Here she is,” he says proudly. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

You nod, eyes wide. The carbon fiber curves of the car seem to shimmer under the lights. Your gaze sweeps over it, drinking in every detail.

“She’s amazing,” you breathe.

Esteban grins. “Just wait until you see her on track.”

He keeps talking, but you’ve noticed a man walking towards you. Even in a paddock full of fit, athletic people, he stands out. Shorter than your tall brother, but compact and muscular. Dark hair sweeps across his forehead as he removes his sunglasses, revealing sharp brown eyes.

“Esteban,” he calls in a Spanish accent. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your lovely companion?”

Your brother turns, smile fading. “Fernando. This is my sister, Y/N.”

“Y/N,” Fernando purrs. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He takes your hand, brushing a kiss over your knuckles.

You feel your cheeks flush even as Esteban frowns. Fernando’s touch lingers a beat too long before releasing you.

“Don’t you have a setup to work on?” Esteban says sharply.

Fernando shrugs, eyes still on you. “The car is nearly there. I thought I would come meet my new fan.”

“I’m sure Y/N doesn’t want to be bothered-”

“It’s no bother,” you interrupt. Fernando’s presence is magnetic in a way you can’t explain. The intensity of his gaze makes your pulse quicken.

He smiles. “There, you see? The lady wishes to talk.”

Esteban huffs but doesn’t argue further. Fernando slings an arm around your shoulders, guiding you away. You glance back at your brother’s glowering face but allow yourself to be led.

Fernando steers you to a quiet corner of the paddock, away from the bustle. Leaning against the wall, he gives you another long look over.

“Tell me, Y/N,” he says conversationally, “How does a girl like you end up with a brute like Esteban for a brother?”

You laugh, surprised by his bluntness. “He’s not so bad.”

“No? The man has the personality of a rock.” Fernando shakes his head. “I do not understand it. Such a warm, engaging young woman. And him — cold and dull as a fish.”

You bite your lip. It’s true your brother can be reserved, but-

“You barely know me,” you point out.

Fernando touches your chin lightly. “I know enough. I have an eye for these things.” His fingers trail down your neck, along your collarbone. You shiver.

“We only just met,” you whisper.

His mouth twitches. “You felt it too, no? A … connection.”

You’re no longer sure if it’s a connection or merely intoxication. Fernando’s presence envelops you like a drug.

“I ...” You falter, words failing.

Fernando leans in as though to kiss you. At the last second, he veers, lips grazing your ear instead.

“Have dinner with me tonight,” he murmurs. It’s not a question.

You nod helplessly. Satisfied, Fernando pulls back, putting professional distance between you again. Yet his eyes continue undressing you.

Over his shoulder, you see Esteban approaching, scowling. Fernando follows your gaze and sighs.

“Until tonight, my dear.” He squeezes your hand and walks away.

Esteban reaches you, glaring between you and Fernando’s retreating back. “What did he want?”

You stare at the ground, afraid your expression will give everything away. “Nothing. Just … talking.”

Your brother snorts. “I’m sure. That man always has an agenda.” His eyes soften, noticing your discomfort. “Come on, let’s continue the tour.”

You let Esteban lead you back into the bustle of the garage, his concerns about Fernando fading as he delves into explanations about the car. But you aren’t really listening. Your thoughts swirl with the memory of Fernando’s touch, his lips, his hungry eyes. The things he made you feel with nothing more than a look.

You’ve never reacted to someone like this before. The impropriety of it — your brother’s rival, a man nearly twice your age — only heightens the exhilaration. You should be appalled by his forwardness. Instead, you’re counting down the minutes until you’ll be alone with him again.

Dinner tonight. Your heart races faster at the thought. What will happen there? What might have already happened if Esteban hadn’t interrupted?

You glance around, half expecting Fernando to be watching you still. But he’s nowhere to be seen. Esteban guides you to look more closely at the car, oblivious to your distraction.

You try to focus on your brother’s words, on the amazing machine in front of you. But your thoughts keep circling back to Fernando — his intensity, his confidence, the promise in his eyes.

This weekend just got a lot more interesting. Fernando looked ready to devour you whole. And despite yourself, you want to be consumed.

***

You smooth non-existent wrinkles from your dress for the tenth time, nerves making you fidget. The hotel restaurant lounge is busier than you expected for a Thursday night. Groups of team members, drivers, and media fill the tables, the air abuzz with a mix of languages.

Scanning the room, you don’t see Fernando yet. You chose this public place with the hope it would feel safer, less intimate than being alone with him in one of your hotel rooms. But now, the crowded restaurant only ramps up your anxiety.

You check your phone again. Still no texts from Fernando. Your foot taps impatiently.

“Y/N.”

You startle at the sound of your name purred in that accent. Turning, you find Fernando behind you, looking sharp in a tailored suit jacket and dark designer jeans. His gaze sweeps over you appreciatively.

“You look exquisite tonight.”

Heat blooms in your cheeks from the hunger in his eyes. You resist the urge to fidget with your dress again.

“Shall we?” He gestures to a table, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you.

You tense at the contact, hyper aware of every point his body meets yours as you walk. Fernando’s hand presses more firmly, as if enjoying your reaction.

At the table, he holds your chair out with exaggerated chivalry, letting his fingers trail across your bare shoulders. You suppress a shiver.

Once seated across from you, Fernando lounges comfortably in his chair, perfectly at ease. You envy his confidence. One look from his intense eyes still makes you blush furiously.

A waiter appears for your drink order. You ask for a white wine. Fernando requests an expensive Scotch.

Alone again, his gaze bores into you. “Now, where were we earlier? Before we were so rudely interrupted.”

You wet your dry lips. “I-I’m not sure that was ...”

“Appropriate?” Fernando supplies with a wolfish grin. “And here I thought you liked my hands on you.”

Your blush deepens. God, being around him is intoxicating. You can’t bring yourself to admit it out loud, though.

Fernando leans forward. “I see the way you look at me, Y/N. Like a woman who wants to be … pleased.”

His use of the euphemism makes you squirm even as heat pools low in your belly.

“You’re my brother’s rival,” you protest weakly.

Fernando shrugs. “All the more exciting, no?”

When you don’t respond, he sits back with a knowing look.

“You pretend to be a good girl. But I see the passion in you waiting to come out.”

The waiter returns with your drinks, providing a temporary respite. You sip your wine, grasping for composure.

Fernando continues watching you like a cat with a mouse. “Does Esteban know you’re out with me tonight?”

You shake your head. Your brother thinks you turned in early, exhausted from the day at the track. If he knew ...

“Sneaking around on a date with his rival.” Fernando tsks. “What would he think?”

“This isn’t a date,” you retort, but the denial sounds weak even to you.

“No? Then why so nervous?” His foot brushes against yours under the table. “Why so willing to deceive your dear brother?”

You have no response. Fernando sees right through you. It’s terrifying and thrilling all at once.

His eyes glitter with victory. But his tone softens. “It is only dinner. No need for guilt.”

He refills your wine glass, coaxing you to relax as you order. The food provides a welcome distraction. He draws you into conversations about travel and music, keeping things casual. Bit by bit, your nerves unwind. Fernando is charming company when he wants to be.

You find yourself laughing at a story about his home in Spain. Your eyes meet and the air shifts. The easy rapport slips away, replaced by simmering tension.

Fernando’s fingers graze your hand resting on the table, tracing delicate patterns on your sensitive skin. Your breathing quickens.

“Your skin is so soft,” he murmurs. “I wonder if all of you feels this good to touch.”

The images his words invoke make your head spin. His thumb strokes your wrist, feeling your racing pulse.

“Fernando ...” It comes out a half-moan.

Abruptly he releases you, sitting back. You stare, confused and bereft.

“Come.” Fernando stands, holding out a hand. “Walk with me.”

Heart pounding, you let him pull you up and guide you toward the exit. The night air hits your flushed cheeks. Fernando’s hand on your back urges you wordlessly down the street toward the harbor overlooking the city lights.

At the railing, he moves behind you, hands resting casually on your hips. You tense, every nerve aware of him surrounding you. His breath tickles your neck.

“Look at me, Y/N,” he commands softly.

You turn your head, body rigid. Fernando smiles, trailing a finger down your jaw. Eyes locked with yours, he presses closer until no space remains between you. Your lips part involuntarily. Triumph flashes in his expression.

“You want me to kiss you.” It’s not a question.

You close your eyes, unable to deny it. Fernando’s thumb brushes your bottom lip.

“Look at me,” he repeats.

You force your eyes open. His face fills your vision.

“Not here,” he says. “Not yet.”

You ache in frustration, but Fernando is immovable as stone. He releases you and steps back. The loss of his touch is a physical pain.

Turning you firmly, he nods at the view. “Enjoy the lights, hmm?”

On unsteady legs, you move to the railing. Fernando stands casually beside you once more. For long minutes, silence reigns.

When you finally chance a look at him, his lips twitch into a smug, satisfied grin.

“You’re playing games,” you accuse shakily.

He lifts an innocent brow. “Games? I merely enjoy a lovely view with a lovely woman.”

You frown, unconvinced. This whole evening has been him expertly stoking the fire between you, only to withdraw at the critical moment. It leaves you trembling with unfulfilled desire.

As if reading your mind, Fernando strokes your cheek with the back of his hand. “Patience, my sweet. I have no wish to rush this.” His eyes burn. “The anticipation will make your surrender so much sweeter.”

Surrender. The word sinks into your bones, igniting a yearning you don’t dare name.

Fernando glances at his watch. “Come. I will walk you back.”

The return to your hotel is silent, charged with restless energy. At your door, Fernando grasps your hand, raising it to his lips. The kiss undoes you in a way his mouth on yours might not have.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Sweet dreams.” A promise lurks beneath his polite words.

You watch him walk away down the hall before letting yourself into your room on wobbly legs. Collapsing back against the door, you close your eyes, body humming.

He was right about one thing. After tonight, you’ll never look at Fernando the same way again. And despite the unfulfilled desire burning through you, part of you thrills at his control, his patience.

You don’t know what this game between you is yet, or what price it might exact. But as you lay sleepless in tangled sheets, replaying each burning moment, one truth rings clear — you trust Fernando to take you wherever this desire leads. And you’re powerless to do anything but follow.

***

The next two days pass in a haze of stolen glances and brief, electric touches that leave you trembling. At the track or hotel, Fernando finds ways to brush against you, to whisper heated words in your ear when no one else is close. But he never pushes further, leaving you a tangled mess of growing need.

Tonight is the final night before the race, the paddock thick with tension and excitement. You pick at your food during the Alpine team dinner, eyes drifting to Fernando at a nearby table with Aston Martin. He meets your gaze with a knowing smirk but stays focused on his own group.

You all but flee back to your room afterward, nerves pulled tight. Pacing the floor, you debate going to him, giving in to this madness. A knock interrupts your thoughts.

You open the door to find Fernando, hunger etched on his face. He steps inside, backing you to the wall. Caging you in place with his body, he strokes a finger down your cheek.

“No more waiting, I think,” he murmurs.

You sway toward him but Fernando holds you firmly in place, denying what you crave. His lips graze your ear instead.

“Say you want me, Y/N. I need to hear you say it.”

You shudder, clinging to the last frayed threads of resistance. Sensing it, he drifts lower, tongue and teeth teasing your neck in a way that ruins you. A gasp escapes your lips.

“Say it,” Fernando commands, the words vibrating against your skin.

“I-I want you,” you breathe, the admission cracking you open.

Triumph flares in his eyes. Then his mouth is on yours, claiming you in a fierce kiss. Weeks of pent-up desire explode as he devours you against the wall. Your fingers twist in his shirt, urgent sounds escaping between kisses.

When you’re both breathless, Fernando pulls back. Eyes wild, he strips off your dress in rough motions, leaving you in only lace undergarments. Ravenous hands explore your newly exposed skin.

“So perfect, just as I knew you would be.”

He lifts you effortlessly and you wrap your legs around his waist. Carrying you to the bed, he lays you across the sheets. You reach for him desperately but he catches your wrists, pinning them over your head.

“I am in control here. Understood?”

You nod, writhing beneath him. With a pleased growl, Fernando releases you to strip away the rest of your clothes. Then he’s above you again, letting you feel his need as he grinds against your aching core. Even through layers of clothing, it makes you dizzy with want.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demands.

“You, Fernando, only you,” tumbles from your lips.

With a satisfied smile, he sits back to remove the rest of his own clothes, eyes scorching your bare skin. Then he covers you once more, warm skin against skin, teasing your entrance as his mouth finds your breasts.

Your head falls back, lost in sensation, but Fernando grips your chin. “Look at me. I want to see your eyes when I claim you.”

Holding your gaze, he enters you in one long stroke. The feeling of him filling you so completely wrenches a shattered moan from your lips. Fernando gives you no chance to adjust, pulling back only to drive into you again and again. You cling to him helplessly, taken over by a pleasure so intense it borders pain.

Fernando murmurs filthy praise and endearments in your ear as he possesses you. When his pace quickens, you shatter around him with a keening cry. He follows you over the edge with a growl soon after.

Still buried inside you, he brushes damp hair back from your face. “Such a good girl,” he praises, stroking your cheeks.

You cling to him, overwhelmed with sensation, with intimacy like you’ve never known. Fernando kisses you lazily before withdrawing to lay beside you. He gathers you close against his chest.

“Sleep now. You will need your rest to watch me win tomorrow.”

His arrogant assurance makes you laugh weakly. Fernando smiles, eyes softening.

“Laugh now if you wish. But after tomorrow, your brother will be the one sulking.”

His mention of Esteban pierces through the haze of bliss. Guilt twists your stomach. With everything that just happened, you forgot entirely about your brother.

As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, Fernando tilts your chin up. “Do not look so troubled, hmm? Esteban need never know.”

You bite your lip. “He won’t approve. He warned me about you.”

Amusement flickers in Fernando’s eyes. “Did he now? And yet here you are.” His expression grows serious. “I will not share you, Y/N. Not even with family.”

The words, though alarming, send a thrill through you. To be wanted so possessively is disturbingly intoxicating. You know you should pull away, but you’ve already crossed so many lines tonight.

Fernando kisses you again, more gently this time. “Sleep, my sweet. No more worrying.”

Wrapped securely in his arms, you let the steady rhythm of his breathing lull you under. Everything else can wait for tomorrow. Tonight, you simply need to feel Fernando surrounding you, keeping you safe in the shelter of his embrace. Whatever comes next, you know you are his now. For better or worse.

***

Morning light streams through the curtains, rousing you from dreams of warm skin and demanding touches. For a moment, you reach across rumpled sheets, expecting to find Fernando’s solid form beside you. But you’re alone.

Sitting up, you spot a piece of hotel stationery on the pillow, his bold script across it:

Y/N,

Last night was magnificent. I wish I could wake to your beautiful face, but it is race day and I must prepare. Tonight, we celebrate properly. Wear something special for me.

Yours,

You trace the letters, a complicated mix of emotions swirling through you. The sheer joy of last night, giving in fully to each other. The guilt that creeps in with morning’s harsh light. Uncertainty of what comes next.

But most powerful of all is the magnetic pull towards him, this man who looked inside you and saw something even you didn’t know was there. Fernando unlocked it effortlessly, leaving you craving more.

Your phone buzzes with a message from Esteban, jolting you fully back to reality. He’s checking that you will be in Alpine hospitality for the race. You text back a vague confirmation, stomach twisting. Facing your brother today, pretending everything is fine while memories of Fernando claiming you play on repeat in your head, will be its own special kind of torment.

You take extra time getting ready, needing the armor of makeup and nice clothes before seeing the team. When you finally make your way trackside, the chaos of race day surrounds you. The garages burst with activity as crews make final preparations. Fans pose for photos and scramble for autographs. But your eyes scan only for Fernando.

You find him outside the Aston Martin garage, surrounded by engineers and PR reps going over last minute details. His race suit is unzipped to the waist, undershirt clinging to his toned chest. Fernando looks up and meets your gaze, desire flashing hot and quick across his face before he masks it.

Heart pounding, you flee to the Alpine suite before he can approach. The morning passes in a tense haze of avoiding Fernando and trying not to show your turmoil. You pick at food, choke down drinks, focus on breathing evenly.

When it’s time for driver introductions, Esteban finds you, pulling you in for a quick hug.

“Wish me luck out there today,” he says with a boyish grin.

You try to smile back naturally. “Good luck. I’ll be cheering for you.” The lie burns your tongue.

Esteban hurries off to prepare and you make your way trackside, pushing through throngs of fans to get a view of the grid. On the big screens, you watch the orchestrated chaos of the buildup.

Your breath catches as Fernando comes into view, prowling the asphalt in his fireproofs like a predator. His confidence and command fill the space around him.

The sight of your lover gearing up to battle your brother is surreal. But the excitement shining in Fernando’s eyes triggers an answering heat in you, eclipsing any conflicted emotions.

As the cars line up on the grid for final preparations, you spot Fernando scanning the crowd. When his gaze locks with yours, he presses two fingers to his lips then holds them out towards you.

Blood pounds in your ears. Everything else fades away except him. In this moment, nothing else matters but the connection between you.

The start lights flash and the cars roar to life, rocketing down the track. You’re jostled by the surging crowd of Alpine guests but keep your eyes glued to the screen, following Fernando’s bright green car. He keeps pace near the front of the pack, battling for position on each turn.

When he overtakes Esteban, your pulse leaps. You shouldn’t want your brother defeated, but the thrill of watching Fernando drive is too powerful.

The race unfolds lap by lap. Fernando runs a flawless strategy, overtaking rivals and avoiding risks. Esteban has moments of brilliance but spends more time defending his position than attacking.

In the closing laps, Fernando emerges through the chaos at the front of the pack, keeping two challengers at bay to the checkered flag. Your heart leaps as he takes the victory to the roar of the crowd around you.

On screen, Fernando pumps his fist before peeling off his gear and climbing atop his car for celebratory photos. Even with helmet hair and soaked in sweat, he looks like a warrior king surveying his territory. Exultant. Dominant. Yours.

The screens cut to Esteban climbing from his car in the midfield, frustration etched on his face. Your joy dims slightly, guilt creeping back in. Seeing your brother’s defeat firsthand twists your stomach.

But before regret can take hold, your phone buzzes with a message from Fernando.

Come celebrate with the conquering hero. My room tonight.

Any hint of doubt burns away. Esteban will have the rest of the team to console him. Tonight, you belong to Fernando.

The hours until the evening crawl by. You pace your room, unsure what to expect from the night. At last, dressed in a slinky black dress, you make your way to Fernando’s room.

He opens the door bare-chested, hair still damp from the shower. Hunger flashes in his eyes as he looks you over.

“Exquisite. Come here, my sweet.”

He draws you inside, mouth finding yours. You melt into him, the kiss deep and claiming. This time when Fernando backs you against the wall, you arch into him, wanting more. But he lifts you effortlessly instead, carrying you to the bed.

“I believe a celebration is in order.”

With deliberate care, he peels your dress away, hands roaming your newly bared skin. Stretched out beneath him, you let Fernando relearn every inch of you, patient this time, focused only on your pleasure.

By the time he finally joins your bodies, you’re drunk on sensation, clinging to him desperately. Fernando’s pace builds unhurriedly, drawing out your ecstasy until you shatter around him with a cry. He follows after, praising you again and again as he finds his own peak.

This time when he gathers you close afterwards, there is no guilt, no conflict in your sated bliss. You know with absolute clarity that this man owns every piece of you now, mind, body and soul. And you would give yourself to him again and again, consequences be damned. For in Fernando’s arms, you feel truly alive for the first time.

***

The end of the race weekend approaches too quickly. You wish you could freeze time, stay wrapped up in Fernando without the outside world intruding. But reality awaits.

On the flight home, Fernando secures you a seat beside him, hidden away in a secluded corner of the private jet. He slips his jacket over your entwined hands, shielding touches and whispered words from prying eyes.

“I want you in Spain as soon as possible,” he murmurs. “No more sneaking around.”

You lean into him. “I want that too.”

The stolen moments already feel unbearable after having him so completely. Fernando smiles, fingers stroking your cheek.

“Soon, my love. I will show you my home, my life there. We will never be apart.”

His words paint a picture more tempting than you can resist. Still, doubts creep in.

“What about Esteban?” You whisper. “My family here?”

Fernando’s eyes harden. “Your life is with me now. They will understand in time.” He grips your hand tighter. “I share you with no one.”

You know you should argue, but the command in his voice thrills you too much. Esteban will be furious when he learns the truth. Yet the thought of losing Fernando cuts far deeper. Your brother will forgive you eventually. But losing Fernando would break you.

At the airport, Fernando kisses you fiercely, heedless of anyone who might see.

“I will come for you soon,” he vows. “Be ready.”

Over the next weeks, you make discreet plans and excuses, preparing to leave your old life behind. Fernando texts and calls when he can, reminding you what awaits. The life he paints, together in his Spanish villa, sounds like a fairytale.

Too soon, though, reality intrudes again. Alpine invites you to a sponsorship dinner before the following race. Declining would raise Esteban’s suspicions, so you accept reluctantly.

You take pains with your appearance that evening, needing the armor. But when Esteban greets you with an affectionate hug, guilt pierces through.

“I’m so glad you could come, little sister. It’s been too long.”

You blink back tears, letting him escort you inside. Other team members welcome you warmly, expressing what a delight it is to see you again. Their kindness cuts sharpest of all.

The only balm is Fernando, across the restaurant with Aston Martin again. His gaze finds you, a question in his eyes. You give a small, reassuring nod. This changes nothing.

Dinner passes in a tense haze of pushing food around your plate and avoiding wine, afraid your fragile composure will crack. You make excuses to leave early, feigning jet lag.

Esteban walks you out, frowning when you evade his offer to get dessert somewhere.

“Everything okay? You seem distracted tonight.”

The concern in his voice nearly breaks you. But before you lose your nerve, a sleek silver car pulls up, back door opening. Fernando steps out, beckoning you.

Your brother’s eyes widen in shock and fury. “What the hell is this?”

“Esteban-”

“Did you know he would be here?” Esteban demands. “What are you doing with him, Y/N?”

You back away, tears escaping. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“Go? You’re leaving? With him?” Esteban looks between you and Fernando, comprehension dawning. “No. No you would never ...” He grabs your wrist.

Fernando is there in an instant, prying Esteban’s grip off easily. He pulls you behind him, staring your brother down.

“Do not touch her again,” Fernando warns, danger in his tone.

Esteban’s face twists in anger and betrayal. “She is my sister, not yours to take.”

“She belongs with me.” Fernando’s absolute conviction brooks no argument. “Accept that, and we will have no quarrel.”

He turns, guiding you gently into the waiting car. Needing to see Esteban one last time, you glance back. The hurt and confusion in his eyes tears at your heart.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper as the car pulls away. Fernando cradles you close as sobs wrack your frame. Grief wars with relief now that everything is in the open.

“Hush now, he will understand in time,” Fernando soothes, stroking your hair.

When your tears slow, he tips your chin up. His eyes shine with possession and pride. “You are mine now. Truly mine. Are you ready?”

You nod, no doubts left, your fate sealed. Fernando kisses you until the lingering guilt washes away. By the time you fall asleep cradled against his chest, you feel only peace. Your future stretches before you, boundless and breathtaking at Fernando’s side.

Stepping into it will mean losing so much and gaining even more. The path will not be easy, but with Fernando’s hand clasping yours, you know you can weather any coming storms.

This is your destiny now. All your broken, scattered pieces made whole in his arms. And you will let nothing stand between you, consequences be damned. For your heart belongs to Fernando alone.

***

The months that follow are bliss and agony.

Fernando whisks you away to his estate in Asturias as promised. There, you settle effortlessly into domestic life with him, days filled with sunshine, languid meals on the veranda, and nights spent tangled in silken sheets. Fernando dotes on you, lavishing you with attention and affection. Under his guidance, you blossom, leaving your past self behind.

Yet the guilt lingers. Esteban refuses your calls and texts, cutting you out fully. Your parents write you off as bewitched when you try to explain. Only Fernando’s steady reassurance gets you through those dark hours when you fear you’ve lost your family forever.

“They will come around, my love,” he murmurs against your hair. “One day they will understand this was destiny. That we belong together.”

Privately, you pray he’s right. Your new life feels hollow without your brother’s laughter and your parents’ warm hugs. But Fernando fills the void as best he can, surrounding you with his love.

As summer wanes into fall, you throw yourself into supporting Fernando’s training regimen and race preparations. The coming season will be pivotal for him at Aston Martin. You’re determined to be the perfect partner — encouraging yet not demanding, understanding of his grueling schedule and focus.

You savor each moment at home between races. Fernando takes you sailing along the coast, shows you his favorite local villages, and teaches you to cook traditional dishes. At night, his touch erases the lingering ache of your family’s rejection.

When race weekends come, you follow Fernando dutifully, maintaining a low profile. Those around the paddock eye you with curiosity and judgment, but their opinions matter little. Only Fernando’s happiness concerns you now.

The races become a test of will. Watching Esteban battle to succeed with Alpine as you lurk in the Aston Martin garage twists your stomach. But you bear the pain, focusing on Fernando’s victories and commiserating during setbacks. Your efforts earn you his praise and devotion. Slowly, the paddock gossip fades to background noise.

Months pass in a blissful haze. Fernando secures key podiums, cementing himself as a title contender. Off track, he takes you traveling during breaks — Switzerland, Dubai, the Maldives. The outside world and its judgements fade away.

When Fernando wins the season finale, you greet him with a tearful smile, so proud of his achievement. Lifting you off your feet, he swings you in giddy circles before capturing your mouth in a crushing kiss. Cameras flash all around, but his eyes see only you.

“This victory is yours too, my love,” he declares later that night, still elated. “You give me strength.”

Curled in his arms, you cling tightly, overwhelmed with emotion. Fernando has proven your faith in him justified, in both racing and your life together. Whatever sacrifices you made, his love has been worth it.

In the glow of Fernando’s championship, the offseason flies by. Before you know it, new season preparations are underway. Fernando secures a multi-year contract extension with Aston Martin, cementing his status as their star driver.

When you arrive for pre-season testing, the garage buzzes with anticipation. Fernando struts with authoritative confidence, embracing his role as the team’s champion leader. He draws you close when you appear, kissing you soundly.

“Look at them stare now,” he murmurs smugly. “You are untouchable.”

It’s true. No one dares whisper anymore when you pass. Fernando’s stature grants you protection, and with it, a new confidence. You hold your head high, welcoming the envious glances.

One person’s attention, however, you try desperately to avoid. Esteban keeps his distance, but you catch him watching sometimes, face unreadable. The renewed pain of his estrangement cuts deep. You cling to Fernando’s side throughout testing, avoiding any risk of confrontation.

On the final test day, you beg off going to the garage, emotionally drained. Fernando is reluctant but acquiesces to your needs, dropping you at the hotel to rest.

By late afternoon, guilt creeps in. You should be supporting Fernando now, not wallowing. Before you can lose courage, you head back to the track.

The Aston Martin bay is empty when you arrive, the garage eerily quiet. You’re about to turn and look elsewhere when hushed voices catch your ear. Fernando’s unmistakable accent, and one achingly familiar.

Heart pounding, you creep toward the sound, peeking around a supply crate. Fernando and Esteban stand mere feet apart, tension radiating between them. Your brother’s hands clench at his sides.

“I want to see her,” Esteban demands.

Fernando scoffs. “You lost that right long ago.”

“She is my sister-”

“She is mine,” Fernando cuts in sharply. “You rejected her. I gave her the life she deserves.”

Esteban flinches. “I was hurt. Angry. But she is still family.” His eyes turn pleading. “Just let me talk to her, Fernando. Please.”

Your heart lurches, desperate to run to him. But Fernando stands immobile as stone.

“No. I have seen how you make her cry and doubt herself. She is happy now, and I will not let you ruin that.”

“I just want to know she’s okay-”

“She is perfect.” Fernando steps closer, looming. “Go back to your garage and your racing, little boy. Y/N is no concern of yours anymore.”

Esteban’s face twists. For a moment it seems he might shove Fernando back. But finally he deflates, defeat in the slump of his shoulders.

Your brother turns without a word, nearly reaching your hiding spot before stopping short. His eyes find yours, widening in shock.

“Y/N ...” he breathes.

You stare, frozen. Esteban takes a half step toward you, hand extended. The months apart feel erased, love and longing surging-

“Y/N.” Fernando’s sharp voice lashes like a whip. You jolt from the spell, tears burning your eyes.

Esteban’s face crumbles. But he only nods once, a goodbye, before walking away.

Fernando is at your side instantly, clutching you close, a hand cradling your head as you tremble against him.

“You see now?” He murmurs. “He only wishes to hurt you more.”

You cling tighter, the echo of your name on Esteban’s lips haunting you. Burying your face in Fernando’s chest, you let him soothe away the renewed ache, the hope dying again.

Later back at the hotel, Fernando undresses you with gentle reverence, worshiping every inch of exposed skin until thoughts of your brother scatter.

“You are everything I need, my sweet,” he vows as your bodies join. “Only you.”

You know it’s true. Whatever Esteban hopes to reclaim, too much has changed now. The girl he knew is gone. Your fate lies with Fernando alone.

So you let your lover consume you with pleasure until nothing else remains. And when Fernando’s possessive whispers of ‘mine’ finally lull you to sleep, Esteban’s haunted eyes cannot follow.

***

And then a surprise is tossed your way. You throw yourself into preparing the villa for a baby, grateful for the distraction. Fernando dotes on you even more than usual, making sure you want for nothing.

At night, he lays you back with utmost tenderness, hands and lips caressing your changing form.

“You grow more radiant each day, my love,” he murmurs. “Motherhood suits you beautifully.”

Privately, you hope the coming baby might also soften your estranged family’s hearts. But Fernando shuts down any mention of reconciling.

“All we need is right here,” he insists, cradling your belly. “Our child will want for nothing.”

You try to take comfort in his words. With the new life growing inside you, loneliness for lost family cuts deepest of all. But you swallow the hurt, focusing on what lies ahead.

As your due date nears, Fernando reluctantly leaves for preseason activities. You encourage him to concentrate on racing, hiding any lingering sadness. This year must be his best yet with a child on the way.

The season opener comes quickly. Fernando wants you resting comfortably at home, but you insist on being there to support him. After lengthy persuasion, he concedes.

Stepping back into the paddock on Fernando’s arm, you keep your head high despite stares following your pregnant belly. Let them judge and gossip. You and Fernando know the truth.

Seeing the Aston Martin crew embrace you and Fernando as family sparks an ache you thought long buried. With Esteban still refusing contact, this child will have only one doting uncle on the grid in Carlos Sainz.

During the race weekend, you catch Esteban watching you pensively across the paddock several times. Each glimpse cuts like a knife. He always looks away quickly, his expression unreadable.

Sunday unfolds in a chaotic blur of pre-race pageantry and tension. From the cozy Aston Martin hospitality suite, you cheer loudly as Fernando battles fiercely for position. In the closing laps, he makes a daring pass to claim a hard-fought podium.

When Fernando emerges from the cool down room, still elated, he makes a beeline for you. Sweeping you up carefully, he kisses you passionately, heedless of the room’s occupants. You cling tightly, swallowing against stubborn tears.

The bittersweet reunion is broken by Carlos, swooping in to hug you both. He presses a hand to your belly with a grin.

“Let me properly meet my future sobrino or sobrina!”

His joyful fussing over you makes your heart clench. Glancing to the back of the room, you find Esteban watching silently, an array of emotions on his face.

As Carlos distractedly moves on to congratulate other drivers, Esteban turns and slips away. Impulse seizes you. Murmuring an excuse to Fernando, you hurry after your brother before he disappears.

You catch Esteban at the elevator, grasping his arm. He tenses but doesn’t pull away, eyes dropping briefly to your belly before meeting your gaze.

“Can we talk?” You plead breathlessly. “Just for a minute?”

Esteban hesitates, glancing down the hall where sounds of celebration continue. Finally he nods, gesturing you into the empty elevator.

The doors close and awkward silence descends. Now that you have him here, you’re lost for words.

Esteban breaks the tension gently. “You look happy. Pregnancy suits you.”

You offer a tentative smile. “I am happy. This baby will have two loving parents.” You bite your lip before adding, “But it could use an uncle too.”

Esteban looks startled, then conflicted. “Fernando would never allow it.”

You shake your head. “I don’t need his permission. Or yours.” Taking Esteban’s hand, you squeeze tightly. “You’re my family. I know we can’t go back to before, but can’t we find some way forward? For the baby’s sake? For mine?”

Esteban searches your face, hesitant. You see the longing warring with old hurts.

“Please,” you whisper. “I miss my brother.”

Your pleading eyes break him. Esteban crushes you into a hug just as the elevator doors open. You cling to each other, both crying.

Footsteps approach and you pull back to see Fernando standing there, concern fading to understanding. Over Esteban’s shoulder, you gaze at your lover beseechingly.

Fernando’s jaw tightens. For a moment, you fear he’ll force you to choose again. But then his eyes soften, nodding once. Relief crashes over you.

Esteban turns, instinctively shielding you protectively. Fernando raises a pacifying hand.

“It seems we have much to discuss.” His mouth quirks wryly. “Shall we find somewhere calmer?”

Cautious hope dawns on Esteban’s face. Together, the three of you retreat to a private corner of the Aston Martin motorhome. There, awkwardly at first, you begin reconciling.

It’s not quick or easy after so much hurt. But you now have a child’s future to consider. Heart by heart, the ice thaws between the men who both love you in different ways. They will never be friends, yet reach an understanding.

When Fernando pulls you close and whispers, “Whatever you need to be happy, my love,” you know this olive branch is genuine. You kiss him tenderly, letting your joy speak for you.

In the weeks and months that follow, bonds slowly rebuild between you and your family. Fernando keeps his promise, welcoming Esteban into your lives, albeit warily at times. He seems to take pride in your returning happiness, though.

Your daughter’s birth months later cements the change. A redemptive joy surrounds you as she’s passed gently into Esteban’s arms. Fernando looks on with unmatched tenderness, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Our family is complete now,” he murmurs. And you know it’s true.

The years that follow hold challenges and triumphs, heartbreak and healing. You watch your little girl grow surrounded by love. She becomes the bridge connecting two worlds once torn apart.

There are times old wounds threaten to reopen. Jealousies flare, harsh words spoken in anger. But you face each crisis together, choosing reconciliation over rupture. And your family emerges stronger for it.

At your daughter’s second birthday party, you pause during the chaos to take it all in. Fernando whirls the giggling birthday girl around while Esteban looks on grinning. Music and laughter surround you.

Watching your child beam, you feel only joy now, and gratitude. However painful the path, every sacrifice was worth it to arrive at this peace. You know the bonds connecting you now can weather any storm life may bring.

Fernando catches your eye, blowing you a kiss. His love gave you courage once to chase an impossible dream. Now you stand surrounded by the reality — a family woven together by resilience and forgiveness.

Your daughter toddles to you and you sweep her up, kissing every inch of her sweet face as she squeals. Over her shoulder, you meet Fernando’s proud eyes. In them you see the past, present, and future. And you know — you would do it all again a thousand times for this happiness you’ve found.

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seungkw1 · 8 months

Text

halloween night — ksy

⛧ pairing: kwon soonyoung x fem!reader ⛧ theme: strangers to lovers, nonidol!au ⛧ word count: ~2.5k ⛧ warnings: smut, swearing, praise kink, oral (m. & f. receiving), softdom!hoshi, petnames (f. receiving - baby, pretty girl, etc.), unprotected penetration (stay safe kids), tiny bit of fluff at the end

your halloween night is going pretty lousy — that is, until you meet a handsome, tiger-print-wearing stranger at a party

♡ moodboard by @myhimbomingi ♡

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“You look fine. Stop worrying, you’re gonna have a good time tonight!”

You stop fiddling with your skirt and look up at your best friend with a sigh. ”I can’t believe you talked me into wearing this stupid thing.”

Halloween is, in your humble opinion, the greatest holiday ever invented. You always love putting together your costume, something unique and creative each year – which is why you feel like a fucking idiot standing here dressed in a cliché sexy nurse costume. But, you needed to get your shitty ex off your mind – it had been two weeks since you found out he was cheating on you – and what better distraction than alcohol. Hell, you might even find someone to make out with if you drink enough. Not your usual M.O., but fuck it.

Now that you’re here though, you’re starting to have second thoughts. Your best friend Mina is bubbly and sociable, so she thrives naturally in a party environment – you, not so much. To make matters worse she’s the only person you’ll know here, so you’re now realizing how awkward this whole thing is going to be. Wishing now that you had worn something more comfortable, you slap on a fake smile as you step inside. Here goes nothing, I guess.

—

Mina spent about 15 minutes introducing you to everybody as you did your best to engage in polite small talk, but she eventually got absorbed in chatting with some old friends while you inadvertently joined a very boring conversation with some cryptocurrency bros where some guy named Chad or something was going on about bitcoin. You pretended to be interested in whatever Brad was saying, but you kept zoning out. Stifling a sigh, you went to make your escape.

“I’m gonna use the restroom, I'll be right…”

Nobody even looked at you. Brent had moved on talking about stocks or some shit. You rolled your eyes as you walked away. Assholes.

The other room was too crowded for your liking, and so was the kitchen. Spotting the back door, you quickly made your way outside before anyone else could talk to you.

—

The cool October breeze hits you as you practically burst through the door and out onto the patio. You know you’ll probably get chilled before too long, especially in this dumb miniskirt, but the crisp air feels delightful. The relative quietness is a relief too. Taking a few moments to breathe, you start to relax, but soon enough your mind drifts back to your ex against your will. It’s not like you miss him – you’re definitely over that jerk – but you’re still extremely pissed off about the whole thing. You feel tears starting to form as the anger wells up inside you – you hate that you cry when you get mad, which only makes you even more upset.

“God fucking dammit,” you mutter under your breath as you go to wipe your tears away before you start full-on crying. You know bottling up your emotions isn’t ideal, but neither is having a breakdown at some stranger’s house.

You can have your breakdown later, you tell yourself firmly. Just not right now. Don’t make a fool of yourself, just hold on out for a couple more hours and then-

“Are you okay?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the voice coming from behind you. Quickly turning around, you find yourself face-to-face with a ridiculously handsome stranger. The man is so striking it takes you a few seconds to process the horribly tacky, bright orange tiger-print shirt he’s wearing.

“Jesus Christ, you scared me,” you say as you collect yourself.

“I- sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he says, his sentence trailing off.

You both stand there for a moment in silence. You find yourself trying not to blush at how good-looking he is, but you notice him noticing your low-cut top but trying to act like he didn’t notice it. Yeah, that is not helping…

The man clears his throat. “You just seemed like you were crying or something and uh… sorry, I guess that’s not really any of my business…” he apologizes, turning red. “Sorry,” he repeats, “I’ll leave you be…”

“No no it’s okay!!” you blurt out, perhaps a bit too fast. “I mean, you can stay, I don't mind.”

“Are you sure? If you want to be alon-”

“No, I don’t,” you interrupt before he goes to turn away again. “I mean, I did originally, but uh…”

What are you doing?? You literally don’t even know this man.

You ignore the voice inside your head. Fuck it, didn’t I say I wanted to find a hot stranger to make out with tonight? Here’s one right in front of me.

You introduce yourself and stick out your hand. His face turns into a soft smile as he takes your hand in his – he shakes it firmly, and you try not to think about how strong he feels. He locks eyes with you and holds on to your hand for a few moments too long. Your heart seems to skip a beat.

“Soonyoung,” he replies. Letting out an even bigger grin, he finally lets go of your hand. “Nice to meet you.”

—

You don’t even know how long you two have been sitting on the patio couch talking. All you know is that not only is Soonyoung incredibly handsome, he’s also funny, charming, and easy to talk to – and, he’s clearly very attracted to you. Usually it takes a number of drinks before you get flirty, but the tension between you two is too strong to resist. It’s taking all of your willpower not to drop everything and kiss him – and the way he keeps stealing quick glances of your lips tells you the feeling is reciprocated.

Despite how flustered you are, it is pretty chilly out, and eventually you start to shiver. Soonyoung notices and gives you a concerned look.

“Oh shit, we should probably get you inside.”

You glance back toward the chatter of the house party regretfully, not wanting to go back in and be amongst everybody else once again. But you are getting cold.

You look back to Soonyoung and you both sit there in silence for a few seconds. A sly smile creeps back onto his face, and he hesitates for a moment before suggesting, “Or… we could get out of here.”

You can’t help but grin back at him.

—

And so you find yourself on Soonyoung’s couch, straddling his lap, making out with him – the cheesy horror movie you had put on in the background long forgotten. Time seems to be at a standstill as you press your lips into his – softly at first, but more intensely with each kiss. His muscular arms tighten around your waist, pulling your body even closer to his, and a small moan escapes you as he pushes his hips into your core.

Soonyoung stops kissing you momentarily so he can look at you. “You’re so fucking pretty, you know that?”

His low and raspy voice sends a jolt through your stomach. Your skirt has risen up over your hips, leaving your underwear as the only barrier between your pussy and the growing bulge in his jeans – you push yourself into him even further and this time he lets out a moan as you feel his cock twitch against your aching cunt.

Grabbing onto your waist he pushes you over onto the couch and rolls over on top of you. He kisses you again, his hand cradling your face, his body weight pressing down on you as you feel the blood rushing through your veins. He kisses you for a few moments more before he jumps up, pulling you along as he leads you into his bedroom.

He stops right before the bed and pauses to look at you, his hand delicately tracing your neckline. “You know, I really like this costume, but I think I’d like it more off of you.”

You let out a laugh as you roll your eyes at him. You begin to unbutton his shirt as you reply, “Well I don’t really like it at all, so you can definitely help me get rid of it.”

He grins back at you. “You look incredible, but I will happily oblige.”

Grabbing the hem of your top, Soonyoung pulls it up over your head and tosses it behind him. He pulls his shirt off too, disregarding the rest of the buttons, and you have to keep your jaw from hitting the floor – to say he was toned would’ve been an understatement.

He grabs you by the arms to pull you in for another kiss, and you place your hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. You slowly run one hand down the defined curvatures of his abs until you reach the waist of his pants. Your lips still pressed against his, you begin to undo his belt and unbutton his pants.

Getting down as you undo the zipper, you pull down the band of his underwear and his cock springs free. You run your tongue up his length, your mouth stopping to take just the tip in between your lips as you taste his juices before taking him in your mouth. Soonyoung lets out a groan, and you begin to slide his cock down your throat – slowly at first, but as you begin to pick up the pace he places his hand on the back of your head, making sure you take his entire length with each motion.

“Look at me,” he commands.

You look up at him, his cock halfway in your mouth still, your lips red and your eyes teary from choking on him.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he murmurs, his voice gruff and low.

He thrusts into your mouth a few more times before he pulls your head back up, his cock glistening with your spit.

“Stand up for me.”

You quickly stand up – it’s impossible to ignore how wet you are at this point.

Soonyoung takes you by the hips and gently pushes you down onto the bed. “Get comfy baby.”

You rest your head against the pillows as he situates himself between your legs. He lifts your skirt up just enough to reveal your visibly soaked underwear.

“Fuck, you’re already this wet for me huh?” he says he starts kissing your inner thighs, close enough to your entrance to make your clit throb but just far away enough to drive you crazy.

He teases you with one finger tracing over your clothed cunt, sending a shiver down your spine. Not giving what you want just yet, he reaches his hand behind your back and unclasps your bra, taking it off of you.

“God, you’re so hot,” he says as he begins to kiss your breasts. You let out a small whimper as his hand makes its way back down to your clit, his thumb circling over the fabric gently.

Finally, he reaches his hands under your skirt and slides your panties off, his face resuming its position right in front of your cunt. You let out a hiss as his tongue makes a stripe over your folds, slowly taking in your wetness – you cry out suddenly as he begins to suck on your clit.

Soonyoung goes down on you for what feels like an eternity, only stopping here and there to shower you in admiration.

“You taste so good, baby.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“Pussy so pretty for me.”

Just as you feel the heat welling up inside your body, he slides his fingers inside of you. The vibrations of his mouth moaning on your clit combined with the pressure against your g-spot nearly sends you over the edge.

“Fuck, Soonyoung – I’m gonna cum…” you cry.

“Cum for me, baby.”

Your orgasm rushes over you as you grab him by the hair, cumming hard on his mouth. Out of breath and seeing stars, you start to come down and your body relaxes into the bed – you run your hand through his hair as he delicately kisses your soaked pussy, his mouth and chin covered in your juices.

Soonyoung comes up to give you a few soft kisses on the lips. Wrapping your arms around his back, you pull his warm body into yours. His erection presses up against your still-throbbing core – you try to position your entrance right on top of his cock but he teasingly pulls away and starts kissing your neck instead.

“Please Soonyoung,” you beg.

“Please what baby? I wanna hear you say it.”

“Want you to fuck me.”

He kisses you on the neck once more before slipping his cock inside you, making you gasp at the sudden sensation.

“Mmm I made you so wet baby, you’re so perfect for me.”

He slowly starts sliding his length in and out of you, but before long you find yourself trying to ride his cock, trying to make him go faster – which only makes him slow down even more. He smirks, locking eyes with you – undeniably addicted to how much you need him.

“Such a little slut, you want me to fuck you harder?”

You nod, looking up at him – desperation in your eyes.

“Use your words baby.”

“Harder,” you plead.

“That’s my good girl.”

Soonyoung thrusts into you, picking up the pace this time, until he’s fucking you senseless. Your cries fill the room from the overwhelming pleasure, and much to his enjoyment you start to whimper out his name.

“That’s right – say my name babygirl.”

You repeat his name as every inch of him continues to pulse into you, stronger with each stroke.

“You’re taking me so well. My cock so good to you baby?”

You cry out something, presumably some form of yes, but you don’t even know at this point. You feel yourself start to climax once more.

“Fuck, Soonyoung – I’m gonna cum again.”

“Cum with me, pretty girl.”

Electricity rushes over your entire body as your walls tighten around him, and you feel his cock pulsating as his cum fills you up inside. You both lay there for a few moments, his strong arms wrapping around you as you breathe heavily together. He slowly removes himself from you and rolls over to pull you into an embrace – him as the big spoon. You giggle as he holds you tightly and gives you little kisses on your cheek.

“You know,” you admit, “I didn’t even want to go to that stupid party.”

Soonyoung laughs. “Well, I’m sure glad you did.”

“I am too,” you say as you begin to yawn. You are completely worn out in the best way possible.

He nuzzles into your neck, clearly also getting sleepy. He pauses a moment before he asks.

“Stay here with me?”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay,” you reply softly.

You drift off to sleep in Soonyoung’s arms – blissful and content.

[end]

you can also find me on ao3 ♡

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tsunami-of-tears · 15 days

Text

Someplace better

Azriel x Reader

A/N: This is dark. There are no happy endings. Please read the warnings.

Wordcount: <1K

Warnings: angst doesn’t even cut it; emotionally abusive family dynamic; suicide; it does not end well, you’ve been warned.

My mother is a horrible wench.

We just had yet another fight that ended in screaming and tears and slammed doors.

I thought our relationship was getting better. I was trying to open up about the struggles I’ve been having, only to have them all thrown back in my face.

“Before you point the finger at everyone else, maybe you need to consider that you’re the problem,” she sneers.

I’d been trying to tell her how overwhelmed I felt, that I felt stuck and couldn’t see a way out. I can feel myself starting to crack under the pressure, pieces of me splintering as I try to be everything for everyone.

No matter how hard I try, it’s not enough. There’s always something I’m not doing, something not done right.

‘You’re a failure and a burden,’ that little voice says, harmonising with my mother’s insults.

“I can’t help you if you won’t help yourself,” she says dismissively.

So much for motherly love…

————

Later that evening, I’m heading to the River House for a family dinner. These events have become less frequent with everyone’s busy schedules, and I’m looking forward to seeing my friends.

Rhysand greets me at the door, pulling me into a hug. “Y/N, it’s been too long,” he smiles down at me warmly. “Everyone else is here already, come in.”

“It’s good to see you, I’ve missed everyone,” I give Rhys a tight smile in return.

Time appears to stop as we walk down the hallway. The awkwardness drags on for what feels like forever. My thoughts race with things I could say, but my tongue cannot form the words. Rhys notices my silence, furrowing his brows at me. I plaster a huge smile on my face, attempting to conceal my inner turmoil. I can’t tell if Rhys picks up on my forgery.

We enter the living room which is alive with chatter between my friends.

Mor, Feyre and Cassian are laughing together, likely about something Cassian said.

Amren and Nesta are engaged in a heated discussion.

And then Azriel… He’s with Elain, talking softly together about gods knows what. My heart starts to crack at the sight.

I really don’t want to get between Nesta and Amren, and I can’t face Azriel and Elain together, so I sit next to Cassian as Rhys perches on the arm of the chair beside Feyre. He leans down to kiss her softly on the top of her head and I look away quickly, the crack growing until I feel like my heart is split in two.

Cassian gives me a quick peck on the cheek as I sit before returning to his conversation with Feyre and Mor.

I struggle to engage with anyone, feeling more alone than ever while surrounded by my chosen family.

————

The rest of the night is much of the same.

Every single word is a monumental effort.

I’m hyper-aware of every single person around the table. Every single smile and hidden touch. I feel as if I’m watching from behind a window. I’m on the outside. Alone.

‘They’ll be fine without you,’ that little voice whispers in my ear. ‘Look how happy they are. They don’t need you. All your efforts are wasted. You are a waste.’

After dinner I bid everyone goodnight, heading up to my room.

I miss the concerned glances between my friends, who noticed I’ve been extra quiet tonight.

I miss the shadows that follow behind me.

I miss the way Azriel zones out from what Elain is saying as he watches me leave.

————

I can’t remember the last time I stayed in this room but all my things remain untouched. Clothing, journals, even some beauty products - all where I left them.

I pick up one of my old journals and flip through the pages. I mostly write down the bad stuff. It usually helps get the feelings out, but right now, it’s only adding to the storm that’s brewing inside me.

I carefully set down the books in a stack on my nightstand, picking up a scrap of parchment. As I always do, I write.

I’m sorry to do this here, tonight, but I cannot go on any longer. I truly believe this is for the best. The world was not made for people like me. I’m far too soft. I love you all. Y/N

I set the note down on the bed and rummage through my various medicines. I’ve always struggled to sleep, so I should have some extra tonics in here somewhere…

I find four bottles of sleeping tonic in one of my drawers, plus the one in my pocket.

I arrange them on the nightstand in a straight line.

I pick up the first bottle, uncorking it and raising it in the air.

A toast, to finding someplace better.

I bring the glass rim to my lips, chugging the clear liquid.

One down. Just a few more.

I make short work of the remaining bottles, though I feel a bit queasy from the sheer volume.

As I set down the last bottle, a wisp of darkness curls around my wrist and snakes between the empty bottles.

“You’re too late,” I tell it.

The shadow vanishes and my eyes start to droop.

I lay down on the bed, my entire body feeling heavy.

As I feel myself losing the battle for consciousness, a mass of dark shadows appears next to the bed.

Azriel.

He is frantic as he reaches towards me.

So close. He was so close.

I never get to feel those hands again as the world fades to black and I give myself over to the endless sleep.

A/N: I’m not gonna lie and say I’m okay when clearly I’m not, but I’m not unsafe tonight.

Mental Health Resources*: If you’re in immediate danger please call your country’s emergency number. Australia: Beyond Blue: https://www.beyondblue.org.au/ Mental Health Hotline: 1800 011 511 Lifeline: 13 11 14 USA: Crisis Line (call or text): 988 UK: Lifeline: 0808 808 8000 *If I have gotten anything wrong or if you have other resources to add, please let me know

#azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar angst

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lokischocolatefountain · 10 months

Text

Secret || Mister Miller

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Rating: 18+ (Warnings: No outbreak, huge age gap, infidelity in later chapters, voyeurism, creepy Joel, masturbation (male and female), bfd!Joel)

Word count: 1.3k words

Summary: Your shameful secret you keep from your boyfriend is not such a secret after all. Your boyfriend’s dad Joel Miller knows what you do…very intimately.

A/N: I don’t know what’s with me writing all this hefty age gap Joel fics with dark themes… I need to be lobotomised. Or I should go back to writing more sweet husband!Javi fics… I’m planning on making this a three parter or maybe even five… Let me know where you’d like to see this go.

Checking once again if he was asleep, you slipped out of his bed. Laptop, phone and headphones in hand, you made your way out of his room, making sure to be very quiet when shutting the door. It had become something of a routine since you started dating. He was good, better than some boyfriends you had in the past who wouldn’t even last five minutes. He treated you well, asked you what you liked in bed and took your advice. Which was why you felt guilty each time you escaped his room in the night to take care of yourself in the living room.

Your parents were on a summer vacation of their own, a long road trip to visit distant cousin you knew fuck all about. You would’ve gone even though you didn’t want to. But Matt begged you to come with him to stay in Texas for the summer. It was an attractive idea— you’d never been to his part of Texas before and you knew you’d miss him a lot. But you didn’t want to inconvenience him or his dad. Thankfully, Mr. Miller was kind and opened his doors to you and his son for the summer.

In return, you helped around the house. He never asked. But he was a busy man. A single dad to Matt and his sister Sarah since their mother left, being busy was his normal state of being. He was the owner of a small construction company he ran with the help of his brother.

Before getting up to your secret nightly activity, you headed to the kitchen and began doing the dishes. Matt cooked well, but he was atrocious with cleaning up. So you did that. It was also to somewhat reduce the guilt that built up in you for hiding things from him. When finished with the dishes, you settled on the floor with your laptop on the coffee table.

Your hand played with your necklace out of habit. Tracing the M of the pendant attached to the necklace Matt gave you for your anniversary. You dropped it, guilt searing your thumb in the M shape of the pendant for doing this without his knowledge.

Shame hit you right as the website loaded, images appeared of naked women posed amidst naked men for video thumbnails. Each provided you a glimpse into the kind of degrading activity each actress engaged in for you to get off in shame. Your eyes caught a thumbnail of a man— older, broad, muscular with a girl your age. You hovered the cursor over the image and it provided you a short peek into what was inside- the man, his hand gripping her hair and pounding into her hard and fast as her face contorted in pleasure. You didn’t care that it was all fake, that the actress probably didn’t even feel good.

You clicked on the video and skipped the poorly acted introduction to get to the good part. Headphones in and volume on high, hand inside your shorts as you touched yourself, you didn’t know you weren’t the only voyeur in the room.

Having come downstairs to fetch himself some water, Joel had noticed you crouching in between his couch and coffee table with your laptop playing something downright filthy. He should’ve walked away, given you your privacy. But goddamn it, you let out a sweet little whine, barely audible and his feet glued themselves to the ground.

It was also because of how uncharacteristic it was of you to do something like this. He’d known you for a while now and you’d always been sweet. Too sweet for his son, if you asked him to be honest. You were slightly older than Matt, having begun your Masters with a little bit of a break after your Bachelors. You were a good influence on him, he’d say. But clearly his son hadn’t been good to you, if he had to go by how you were touching yourself to porn in his living room.

Now, he knew it was wrong. No decent man would be aroused at the sight of his son’s girl getting herself off. But you were on his living room floor, using his wifi and you sounded gorgeous making those little whines and whimpers. If he had to guess the sort of thing you liked—and he never thought of such a thing before—it would be one of those erotic novels with shirtless men on the cover. Not this. Not videos of a man who fucked a girl like she was nothin’, picked her up and threw her around and brought his hand down on her to make her stay put and take whatever he gave her.

He put his hand down his sweatpants, just as you had yours down those little shorts you wore around his house. He couldn’t see anything of you. Just the back of your head. For Joel, that was enough. Just knowing that this innocent little thing was getting off on watching a man use a girl like that was enough.

Eyes fixed on you, he stroked his cock, imagining he had a nice wet cunt around it instead of his hand. The man on your screen had the girl pushed against a wall as he pounded into her, her eyes rolled back into her skull and she had her lips parted, presumably moaning in false enthusiasm for the man.

He’d been starved for too long. There was no other explanation for why he felt good watching that fake shit, especially so far away from the screen and with no audio.

He screwed his eyes shut as he got close, imagining himself as the man in the screen, getting to fuck a pretty thing like that. A girl on his bed, against his wall, on her knees with his cock drilling into her holes. He imagined that his hand, large and callused from decades of hard labor, around a pretty throat. Holding it along with a necklace with a gold M pendant dangling off of it. Her eyes rolled back and her lips— your lips — parted as you struggled to breathe. He leaned against the wall as his knees weakened, the image of you in his head strong as he stroked himself. You on his bed, you against his wall, you on your knees for him— and with a whimper he hid by biting down on his lip, he came. White hot cum coated his hand and fuck, what a waste when it’d look so pretty on you.

Fuck!

Fuck, fuck, fuck—

He took one last look at you before rushing back upstairs to his room. On the way, he checked if Matt’s door was still closed. It was.

He’d been starved too long. That was all. Nothing else. He’d done too long without a girl and you were the nearest one, cleaning up after his son and wishing him a “Good Morning, Mister Miller” every morning and asking “How was your day, Mister Miller?” when they sat together to eat whatever Matt cooked. It was just proximity.

There was no other explanation.

He’d been…active in his youth. That’s how he had two kids at an age where he was supposed to be a kid himself. But things died down later. Perils of parenting and a contracting business. There were women. Fleeting relationships and even more fleeting fuck buddies who’d all gone off to be with someone else. Now, there was just work. Hell, the last time he picked up a pretty thing at a bar was Tess.

Tess. That was it.

He decided he would give her a call, see if she still had the habit of cheatin’ on that useless husband of hers. Get rid of the images of you in his head with images of Tess.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #joel miller x you #bfd!joel #joel miller x ofc #joel miller x oc #joel miller age gap #joel miller smut #tlou x reader #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller au #all that i've inflicted on the world

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mrsaltieri-real · 10 months

Note

OKAY! Hear me out. Mickey goes out to a party, you had a different thing with friends. You come home earlier. You go to bed. Mickey comes home, horny, missing you, somnophilia ensues, a little frantic, a little needy, he just *has* to have you. Like you are barely wet enough when he is sliding, maybe some apologizing for not being able to hold back, hell maybe he cums a bit quick but you KNOW, he hits you back after. Thoughts?

Sweet Dreams (Mickey Altieri X Fem!AFAB!Reader)

Word count: 3k

Warnings: 🔞, langauge, smut, p in v, teasing, degradation, praise, spitting, somnophilia, (pre-established consent) drunk!Mickey, dub-con, (kinda I guess) implied denial, implied forced orgasms, kind of cock warming, Mickey whimpers (yes that’s a warning) basically pure smut.

Oh, you bitch you’re KILLING me. This was so much fun to write and not going to lie, somnophilia is a big ol’ kink of mine. Also it just fits Mickey so well what choice did I have to write this? Thank you for the request! I kinda went off to be honest. Couldn’t help myself.

For those who don’t know: Somnophilia: a sexual interest in engaging in sexual activity with a sleeping person

Exhausted, you unlocked your door and stepped inside your dorm, your social battery completely and utterly drained. You couldn’t help but be pleased you decided not to go to the sorority party with Mickey because even just having a quiet drink at your friend's apartment on top of spending the whole day studying had completely burnt you out.

As much as you loved him, you couldn’t help but feel a little put out at how energetic he was, always seeming to have the eagerness and energy to jump from one activity to the other regardless of what it was. He was just as, if not under more pressure than you were in regards to his current predicament yet nothing ever seemed to be able to stop him or tire him out.

Kicking your shoes off and quickly changing into one of Mickey’s shirts and discarding of your bra and clothes in your hamper, you yawned as you padded off to the bathroom to quickly brush your teeth, before sinking contently in your soft bed, eager to let sleep completely take you over.

He’d definitely had a few too many.

Mickey hummed to himself softly and tunelessly as he stumbled down the corridor to your dorm room, clumsily fumbling with your spare keys in his hands as he tried to unlock your door, failed and tried again whilst trying and failing to be as quiet as possible when he finally made his way inside.

He took his shoes off by your door, almost falling over as he bent down to pull them off and cussing softly as he tried to regain his balance before finally discarding them along with the rest of his clothes except for his briefs.

He groaned a little, stretching as he stood back up and cracked his neck, trying to be stay quiet as he walked over to your bed, smiling affectionately when he saw you lying on your stomach with one leg wrapped around the covers and your arms wrapped around the pillow your head was laid on, wearing nothing but his old black Star Wars T-Shirt and the pair of pretty baby blue soft cotton panties he loved seeing you wear so much.

Seeing you like this, looking like you were being served to him on a platter mixed in with the natural feeling of the alcohol sending him to his overwhelmingly horny state was almost too much for him to handle.

“Baby?” He whispered softly as he sat down beside you on the bed, moving so he was leaning over you, pressing his lips softly to your cheek, “You awake? I missed you.”

No response.

God, had he ever wanted you this much before?

He reached out his hand, moving some hair gently out of the way so he could lightly press his soft lips to your now exposed throat and whispered, “Baaaaby?” in a long, drawn out voice before his hand buckled under his weight and he had to stop himself from falling and crushing you with a hushed, “Ah, fuck!”

You mumbled something unintelligible before rolling onto your back, your light snores halting but still remaining fast asleep.

Mickey sighed a little, collapsing onto his back and staring at the pitch black ceiling, uncomfortably hard but being completely unable to do anything about it. He was debating just jacking off, but even hammered he knew that wouldn’t be anywhere near as satisfying as the wet, tight feeling of your pussy. That was until he remembered a conversation the two of you had a couple of weeks ago.

“You know you can fuck me whenever, right?” You’d said whilst sat crossed legged on his bed whilst he worked on a paper for his film class. This made him pause, putting his pen down and turning in his chair, expression endearing and surprised.

“And what do you mean by that?”

You hesitated for a second, eyes dropping to watch your fingers play with the corner of his comforter, “You asked me a while back if there’s any kinks or things I wanted to try,” Your shoulders upturned in a slight shrug before you continued, “If there’s a time where you want to fuck me but I’m sleeping or whatever, you can. I’m just letting you know I’m giving you permission in advance.”

Mickey laughed a little, standing up from his chair and walking over to you, placing his finger under your chin and tilting your face up so you were forced to meet his eyes, “That really want you want? Me to fuck you whilst your fast asleep and none the wiser?” You nodded your head, your lips curving upward into a wide smile as you looked into his bemused eyes, saying softly, “Yes, that’s what I want.” Another laugh before he said gently, “Well, aren’t you just fucking twisted.” You scoffed at him, slapping his hand away gently. “I’m serious! You ever want to do it, you can.”

Mickey raised his eyebrows as he straightened out, dropping his finger from your chin and his face turning a little more serious as he asked, “Are you sure?”

You moved to your knees and rested your hands on his shoulders. “I wouldn’t tell you I wanted that if I didn’t want it.” You pointed out, tugging on his shirt for him to lean down. He nodded his head a little, his gorgeous smile lighting up his face as he said, “Good point,” Before giving into your tugs and moving down to kiss you eagerly.

He had no idea that you had this kind of edge to you. The one thing Mickey loved about you is that so far, you’d engaged in every kink he himself has had. Whether that be his habit of edging and denying you of release when you needed it the most, allowing him to treat you like a literal piece of meat whilst he’s fucking you, knife play, anything and everything he’s wanted. He knew you’d do anything for him. But it took him longer than he’d liked to get you to admit what you wanted him to do for you. And now you have? He wasn’t only pleased, but extremely engrossed and fascinated with the knowledge of you wanting him to do this to you, do it for you.

Not to mention that this was a little for him as well. God, he wanted to do this just as much as you did.

And who was he to deny you if you wanted it so badly?

Between both of your busy schedules you hadn’t had the time to bring this fantasy of yours to life, but what could be a better time? You were fast asleep, he was wide awake, drunk and so hard he felt as though his cock was about to burst through his briefs, the intense throbbing becoming almost painfully uncomfortable.

He moved slowly to start with, rolling onto his side and gently running his large hand up your torso till it found one of your tits, lightly and curiously palming it through the thin material of his T-Shirt just to test the waters, watching your face in the dark to wager your reaction. He couldn’t help but smile as he heard your breathing subtly hitch as he used his thumb and forefinger to gently roll your nipple, your forehead creasing just slightly before he released it and it smoothed out, a soft sigh falling from your lips as you remained fast asleep.

Your body was just so warm, so fucking soft and desirable it was like he couldn’t help himself. He had your pre established consent and god, you just looked so perfect lying before him, an absolute fucking treat and just completely irresistible.

“I’m sorry, I just… God, I need you so fucking bad, sweetheart.” He whispered as he moved onto his back, lifting his hips to quickly yank his briefs off, kicking his foot so they unravelled from around his ankle and were quickly discarded God knows where before he gently pulled himself on top of you, propping himself up with one arm and slowly sliding his hand down between the two of you to feel your heated cunt through the thin material of your panties. You weren’t as wet as he’d usually like, but drunk and frantically turned on he didn’t care, quickly pushing your panties to the side not wanting to waste any time taking them off before guiding his cock to your hole, trying to push himself inside of you.

“Fuck,” He muttered, spitting on his fingers and dragging them around and into your cunt to add some lubricant and repeating the action till you were slick and ready for him, slowly rolling his hips till he began to gradually fill you, cursing softly at how tight you were.

You moaned a little in your sleep and even unconscious, your legs willingly opened for him and your head rolled to the side, another soft snore escaping you as you continued dreaming intently. The dream pretty much consisted of everything he was already doing, Mickey touching you, pushing himself into you. In your dream however, you were responding to him, moaning loudly, nails digging into his toned back and your legs wrapped securely around his waist. Reality, for the moment of course, was much different.

Mickey’s hands clumsily pulled your shirt up so your tits were on display to him as he messily began to thrust his hips, moving one arm to curl under you knee, pulling it up, groaning a little too loudly as he felt you slowly become wetter and wetter with every frantic pump of his cock he sent your way, your pussy subconsciously clenching around him in a way he knew was going to make him fall apart in less than a few minutes, the curse of him being absolutely wasted and way too turned on by both you and the act of knowing that you wanted him to be doing this to you yet you had absolutely no idea.

You stirred quietly due to the pressure building inside of you, feeling slightly bemused. Was this still a dream? You felt yourself wanting to open your eyes to see what was going on until you heard the familiar pants and groans of your boyfriend, feeling his hot skin moving against yours and his fingers gripping your hip and under your knee so hard it was bound to leave marks in the shapes of his long fingers. The smell of alcohol and mint on Mickey’s breath suddenly fanned over your face, immediately waking you up and causing you to register what was happening.

God, you told him you wanted this weeks ago but you’d honestly never thought he’d actually do it.

Knowing he thought you were fast asleep whilst he was using your body for himself to get off was too big of a turn on. You couldn’t stop your hips from adjusting just slightly so he was hitting that sweet spot but otherwise staying completely still, ensuring your breathing remained as even and steady as it had been whilst you slept whilst trying your best to keep your eyes closed as he fucked you hard and fast, yet not anywhere near as precise and calculated as he usually was.

“Fucking whore, my fucking whore,” His words were loud and slightly slurred, his hand dropping your leg causing it bounce slightly on the mattress beneath you so he could adjust himself to bury his face into the crook of your neck, the vibrations of his soft groans spreading throughout your entire body and making goosebumps rise across your skin. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip to prevent yourself from offloading the built up moans on the tip of your tongue as he continued chanting degrading praise at you, his breath hot against your throat. You screwed up your eyes tight, fingers subtly gripping the soft material of the comforter underneath you and quietly relishing in the sharp intake of breath he sucked in as your cunt clenched around him, but he was too drunk and too busy fucking you to realise the action was very deliberate.

“Such a tight little cunt.” He mumbled against your skin before stopping suddenly, his heart thumping in his chest as he caught his breath, his breathing shaking a little. “Fuck,” He whispered quietly, lifting himself up a little so one of his hands was gripping the head board. You stayed quiet, eyes closed but your body still reacting to him, cunt leaking out your arousal around his stiff, unmoving cock, still trying to milk him as if it had a mind of its own.

You let out an almost silent whimper as he slowly pulled out, head of his dick just judging at your entrance before sharply snapping back inside of you, the action causing a loud and surprised yelp at the same time he let out a loud, unfiltered moan at the feeling, beginning to fuck you with more vigor and determination with his thrusts still messy and unsynchronized but God, still so fucking good. He either was too drunk to register or simply didn’t hear the sound you made as he continuously rolled his hips against you, his skin slapping against your swollen clit with every snap of his hips.

Even drunk, Mickey was a better fuck than anyone.

“Take it, fucking take it like a slut,” He slurred under his breath as he began bottoming out.

You couldn’t take much more.

Incapable of being able to pretend to be asleep anymore, your legs wrapped around his waist and you moved your hips against his, hand reaching up to knot your fingers in his hair and pulling his face down so you could crash your lips against his, taking him by surprise as the series of built up whimpers and moans fell out of you and into his mouth, unable to even attempt to stay silent anymore. His hand dropped from the headboard but he managed to quickly catch himself, hands moving toward your hips to grip them tightly, pressing you firmly into the mattress.

His surprise was short lived as he responded, moving his lips messily and clumsily against yours. You could taste the alcohol on his tongue as it swirled against yours as you suddenly had an idea, something you wouldn’t even attempt to say to him whilst he was sober. Your hands released their grip on his hair and wrapped tightly around his neck, locking your hands together, pulling your mouth away from his and whispering into his ear, “Cum for me, Mickey,” Your heels digging into his lower back as you heard him let out a sound he'd never made before.

A whimper. A fucking whimper. Somehow, you’d managed to make Mickey Altieri whimper.

He whimpered as his hips stuttered again, your heels holding him inside of you as you felt him cum, ribbons spurting out of him with vigour and coating your walls. As he came, he continued to release those deliciously slurred whimpers you didn’t realise you needed to hear so badly, the sounds making your pussy continue to pulse and tense tightly around his softening cock and your back slightly arched off the bed, wanting to soak in every single moment as you softly whispered, “Fuck yes,” under your breath, moaning out his name repeatedly in his ear, smiling a little as you heard him sharply suck his own teeth at the feeling of your throbbing cunt still flexing around him.

He didn’t want it to be over yet, that was far too quick. He caught his breath a little, his hips still twitching and moving slightly, as though he was trying to push his cum even deeper inside of you as he caught his breath, leaning back so he could look down at your almost smug expression.

“M’ sorry,” He mumbled, his hair messy and sweaty, sticking to his forehead, “M’ gonna make you cum though, promise.”

You opened your mouth to object, you didn’t need him to. He’d done exactly what you wanted him to do and it had completely lived up to your expectations but he shook his head, shushing you gently.

God, he was being sweet. How fucking hammered was he?

You didn’t have much time to think as he gripped your hips, moving so he was sat back on the balls of his feet, on his knees with your ass resting on his thighs and his soft cock still inside of you as his hands slid down your torso gently before finding your swollen clit and his fingertip began to softly graze over it, causing you to jump a little at the sensation.

He smiled a lazy, deeply satisfied smile but you noticed it had somewhat of an edge to it before he used his thumb to pull back your clitoral hood, his other hand moving to gently use the pads of his fingers to rub over your strained clit with a little more force and precision, making your head fall back against the pillow and your cunt yet again clench around his soft cock, moaning his name softly.

“Feels good, hm?” He asked and you nodded your head quickly, moving your hips against his fingers, “Yes Mickey feels so fucking good, please don’t stop!” You begged him.

Then Mickey did just that. He stopped, his fingers sharply pulling away.

“Why-“ You began to question him impatiently, lifting your head before his expression instantly made you clamp your lips together. Fuck, he looked pissed.

He cocked his head at you before saying in an almost amused voice in spite of himself, “You like taking control?” You blinked, opening your mouth again to respond before his fingers glazed over your clit again, making your hips buck and your head fall back, groaning as he continued talking, “You like telling me when to cum? You fucking ruined it. Could’ve made you cum all over this dick the same time I fucking did.”

“I- I’m sorry,” You whispered pathetically. You subconsciously knew it wasn’t your fault, he was close regardless of if you’d moved, or told him to cum but the feeling of his drained cock still buried deep inside of you and his fingers, still a little messier than usual, rubbing over your painfully swollen clit made it hard for you to pay attention to him. Besides, you knew better than to try and tell him all of that.

Even though he was fucking hammered, Mickey always needed you to know that he was in control, not you. The fucking had somewhat sobered him up slightly and now he had come down from the high of his orgasm, he was back to himself and he’d thought of a fun little game he wanted to play with you. Of course, he wasn’t actually mad at you. You wanting him to fuck you whilst your were asleep and then surprising him like that had turned him on even more, and now he was sobering up he didn’t want the game to be over.

“You are?” He asked teasingly, fingers abandoning your clit as he straightened up, letting spit fall from his mouth and onto your clit before messily spreading it all over the bundle of nerves, the sensation making you whimper in turn, “No, you’re not. But you will be. Because I’m going to keep rubbing your pretty little cunt till it makes me hard again. Then you’ll be fucking sorry.”

You opened your mouth to speak but instead let out a surprised yelp as his hand came down, smacking your exposed clit sharply.

“Does that sound good?” You nodded eagerly before he laughed a little, voice still just a little slurred as he spoke, “It won’t be. Because I don’t care how many times you cum, how much you beg me to stop, I don’t care if it gets too much for you. I’m not stopping till I can fuck you again. It’s your own fault, you ruined it.”

Fuck.

#mwahahhahaha #this was fun #SO much fun #i love him so fucking much #twisted mf #Bex destroying me with the hot requests yet again #(do it again)#enjoy!#scream #mickey altieri #scream 2 #mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri smut #mickey altieri x you #slasher #slasher x reader

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katsheadinclouds · 3 months

Text

Summer nights, you and I

Lucien Flores x f!plus-size!reader

summary: You explore your feelings for your high school sweetheart, who comes to your birthday party.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, bad communication, mention of drinking, no mention of pronouns for reader but body parts are mentioned, reader wears a dress and has hair, smut, car sex in a public place, unprotected PiV sex (wrap it up folks!). No use of y/n. Not beta read. If I forgot something, let me know!

word count: 3.7k

notes: Happy birthday weekend to me! Yesterday, when I saw the new pictures and videos of one mr. Lucien Flores, my brain got fried, and inspiration hit me. I ended up writing this thing in the middle of the night and thought I’d share it now to celebrate me turning 30!

dividers by saradika-graphics

He watches you mingle in the crowd, eyes following your every move. People talk with him, to him, but the words slip out of his head as soon as he hears them. He watches as you laugh at a joke someone tells you. He watches you listen to someone. He watches the arch of your lips when you answer someone’s question, how your tongue drags over the softness as you wet them before sipping on your drink.

He knows you’re aware of him. He sees it in the way you turn around if you get too close to him. He sees your head twist away after you’ve locked your eyes on him when you think he hasn’t noticed. It’s in the way you pretend to not see him even when you’re facing him, trying to force yourself to stay present in the conversation you’re engaged in.

But every few seconds your eyes drift to watch him past the guest’s face. Your shoulders tense up, you breathe a little deeper, and you try so hard to not let his presence deter you from the deep desire to keep your head straight. You told him that you two can’t keep seeing each other. You told him that repeatedly; every time you came knocking on his door at odd hours of the night, every time you called him to ask if he was free the next weekend, every time you sighed out his name when his mouth was buried between the roundness of your thighs. It was a reflex. A chanting wish to keep yourself from him.

Yet every time you came back, saying the same thing, “we can’t keep seeing each other like this.”

He had looked at you under his brow, ready to indulge you in the orange gloom of the streetlights glowing in through the window. “How do you want to see me then?” He mocked.

He didn’t expect to be pushed on his back, your fingers gently around his throat, your hot palm against his feverish skin, your lips against his ear, “I don’t,” you whispered. Almost like it was an emphasis on your resoluteness, you rose to your knees and guided him into you. Your arousal pooled instantly at the base of his cock when you heard him moaning. He dug his fingers against your ass and helped you ride him until your thighs were burning. Here you were, trying to meet all your guests in the dusky garden you had rented for your birthday party. “I don’t want you there,” you had said when you gave him the invite.

“Then I won’t come there,” he answered. You gave him a long look, your fingers pressed against his before you turned on your heels and left his place before the sun rose.

Here you were, avoiding him at your own party, trying to act nonchalant about the man who you wanted in every way but never wanted to admit it even to yourself. You knew how people saw him. How they’d see you if they knew about you two.

You were always the good one, ready to help, never backing out even in the bleakest situations. People trusted you, and you gave all of them a reason to do that. Lucien on the other hand, he is nothing like you.

He has always been the quiet rebel, the one with the free spirit who sometimes disappears without a word to chase his dreams and wants. Untrustworthy, ready to jump when everyone else expected him to stand still. You can’t accept that he has changed, even when he tries to prove it to you.

You knew you couldn’t get attached like you had when you two were teenagers, with heated cheeks and coy smiles. Back then you were shy and your hands always shook when you wanted to touch him. Even if it was just to hold his hand or to push his unruly curls off his eyes.

The kisses back then were timid, full of nerves, when either of you weren’t used to having someone so close yet. The teenage romance ended before it even had a chance to properly start. He left and you stayed. Your tears were never ending, they dried out your soul. The hope for feeling like you had someone you could trust to stand with you, to have someone in your corner, withered away. It was by accident when he saw you again. At a coffee shop on a busy Tuesday morning. He could recognize your voice from a mile away and the smile in your eyes when you thanked the barista for your coffee. And the curve of your lips that you licked with the tip of your tongue before you took a sip.

He didn’t know if he should call out for you or let you go. He did neither. He was on his feet before he had the chance to decide, and stood in your way as you were heading outside with your takeout cup, smiling at something on your phone. You almost crashed into him, barely catching yourself before you spilled your coffee on his chest.

“Excuse me,” the annoyance was palpable, but when you looked up and saw his face, the realization hit you like a train.

“Lucien,” you half whispered with wide eyes in the full coffee shop. He was so close he could smell the mint in your breath from your toothpaste.

“Long time no see,” his mouth found a crooked smile and you gasped out a laugh, not believing that he was standing in front of you, not knowing what to do next. It wasn’t forbidden. The love he feels for you, or the love you feel for him. You’re protecting yourself, he knows that. You don’t want to feel like you’ve lost something when he decides to leave again. You don’t want to find yourself alone again. You don’t want to feel like you’ve been abandoned again.

You were inseparable for a while. He was a lifeline for you when you felt most lonely, without friends and belonging in any group that had formed at school. He was a friend, first and foremost, then your first love.

By the end of it he was nothing when he followed his dad to another state one summer. So, you keep telling him that you can’t meet anymore. That it’s not wise to see each other anymore. That this is the last time, before you come back again and tell him the same things again and again. “Happy birthday,” he finally finds you alone by the drinks table, catching your breath after all the socializing and meaningless conversations with people you’ve collected throughout the years to make yourself a safety net that has holes in it. You had said it yourself, “I don’t belong with these people, I don’t know why I think they’re my friends.”

“Thank you,” your quiet voice trembles when you face him and look at him deep in his eyes.

“I have something —,” he begins, but is cut off by the other people who burst into explosive laughter. The sound is a mix of joyful and horrifying at the same time, too loud yet held back.

“Come,” he takes your hand and pulls you away towards the gates of the garden, getting further from the party and the droning chatter with every step. You hold onto his hand with your fingers twined with his and let him take you anywhere he wants.

He opens the doors of his car but pulls you to his chest before pushing your back against the side of the ride. Your hands reflexively reach for his shoulders and drag him in. Your hungry mouth is about to repeat your script but gets distracted by his lips and the wet glide of his tongue against yours. “What were you about to say out there?” You groan when he sucks at the soft flesh right under your jaw.

“That I have something for you,” the low murmur of his voice makes shivers run down your spine. Your hands don’t shake anymore when you reach for his kisses, when you reach for his belt and pant against his mouth when the now familiar feeling of his tongue fills your mouth. Smoothly he reaches behind your back and pulls the door open, leading you to the backseat. The pleasant mildness of the night feels scorching in the closed car. The windows are fogged up and your hand is slipping against the glass when he buries himself snuggly into you. Your breath catches in your throat every time he reaches that place deep inside you. He makes you discover the fine line between pleasure and pain with every stroke.

He’s careful with it, making sure you never cross that line to painful but teeter on the brink of it. Who would’ve guessed you’d be getting fucked in Lucien’s car by the end of the night, sweat pouring out of your pores, feeling spread open and the intense pleasure with every stroke of his cock in the tightness of your pussy, electrifying your spine and travelling in waves up and down your back. He licks at the side of your neck, a long stripe from your collarbone up to your jaw. He plants soft kisses along it until he reaches your lips. Slowly he lifts himself up to look at you, hovering over you.

His arms are like a cage on either side of you, your leg trapped against his arm. If you were to straighten it, your toes would tickle the dark lining on the roof of the car. The chains around his neck sway with every thrust, all ending up tickling the centre of your chest. You reach for them and wrap them once around your finger.

“I want you to be rough,” you tell him. He looks at you, the seriousness in your eyes. He’d like to wipe away your fears, your need to push him away while simultaneously pulling him in. He considers it, giving you what you ask for. But it’s only part of the script you’ve written in your head to feel better if he were to leave again.

“No,” he says and leans down, touching his lips feather light against yours. He rocks down and watches you take a deep breath. He feels you pulse around his cock, adjusting to the slow invasion. “I’ll give you rough when you believe when I say I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.” He sees your resolve crumble immediately. You’ve been caught, you both know it. You’ve kept yourself from feeling anything for Lucien while feeling so much for him at the same time, so much so that it has turned overwhelming. Your protection has turned into self-sabotage when he’s the one reaching out while he watches you build even higher walls around yourself.

He moves slow, almost pulling out completely, before pushing back in with a slow roll of his hips, until his pelvis is flush against yours and another breath is drawn out of your lungs. You wrap your hand around the back of his neck, your fingers winding around the curls at the base of it, forcing him to hold his forehead against yours. The chains slip from your hand and hang loose once again. They tap against your chin with every little move he makes.

“I want to hear it,” his voice rumbles and buzzes in your ears. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, while he demands your attention with the push of his hips. The arm that was supporting your leg at the bend of his elbow suddenly secures the sole of your foot against the passenger seat while your ankle presses against the center console.

You open your eyes just as you feel his fingers slip between your legs, his thumb finding your slicked clit without much trouble like he has mapped out how you like to be touched. He gathers even more of your wetness from around his cock and circles the sensitive nerve endings in sweet circles, making your eyes roll back into your head and your back arch off the leather seats.

“Tell me,” he demands softly, bringing you back from losing yourself to the pleasure. He doesn’t stop touching you, only slows down the circles, just like he slows down his thrusts to be a continuous movement, in and out, keeping your pleasure on high alert and your orgasm ever present, but not letting it take you away from him, not just yet.

“What?” You gasp out when he once again reaches deep, tilting his hips up.

“Tell me you believe I’m not going, and I’ll give you rough.” You moan out at the feel of his thumb suddenly losing pressure for it to only move up and down against your clit.

The words are on your tongue, catching the humidity of his breath. You’d want to believe him, you’d love to believe him. But you can’t.

You know this isn’t the first time he’s back in the city. He has come and gone many times, and you’ve only heard about it afterwards, when he’s long gone already. And every time, even when you hadn’t seen him, it had reminded you of how he left when you were still a couple of kids, trying to navigate the world that seemed too big and too small at the same time.

You’d want to tell him you believe him. You’d want to have enough faith in yourself to not break apart when he will eventually leave. You’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months now, but the fear is still there, only growing stronger. You wait for the moment, when he’s just gone.

You force yourself to look at him in the eye, to see the dark pleading in them. To believe him. He sees the same in yours. To not hurt you. He shoves himself in you and holds the tears in your eyes with heartbreak in his.

He gets it. There’s nothing he can do, or say, to make you change your mind about him. He pushes himself up and runs his large hand down your soft side, his thumb tracing the line of your bra under your breast.

You brace yourself for what he’s about to do when your request from earlier hangs heavily in the humid air between the two of you. His eyes rake down your clothed front, sees the budding bruises of his mouth right by the edges of your bra. Your dress, which he hiked up to your waist, has gathered the few drops of sweat that have dripped down from his face.

Last, his eyes fixate on the gleam of your lips around his length, how he still hasn’t stopped the push and pull of his hips, drawing out more and more of your slick. He thumbs at where you’re joined, earning a groan from you that invites him closer to cumming. It’s your final warning for what’s to come.

The air smells of sex, heady and thick. He grinds his teeth together and breathes deep. His thighs are on fire from kneeling between your legs for so long. Some of the seams on the seats chafe against his legs.

“Just do it,” you cry out. Your voice isn’t only asking for him to take you however he pleases. You’re pleading for him to do what you expect from him. To take what he wants, and to leave.

Without waiting any longer, he digs his fingers into your hip, squeezes the supple roundness of your bottom and slams himself into you, starting a ruthless rhythm. You scream out before you manage to cover your mouth with your hands. You breathe harshly between your fingers while he takes and takes, forcing you to gasp out your moans.

It's too much, his hold, his thumb on your clit, the thickness of him between your legs, in you, his grunts and heavy breaths that intoxicate you. You love to hear his voice when he’s close. It’s the most erotic sound you could ever think of. You record it in your mind, only to repeat to yourself when you know thinking about these moments together won’t cause too much pain.

He does this thing where he reaches deep inside you, presses his whole length against the squishy, most sensitive parts of your flesh, and uses it with abandon. You can’t hold in your moans behind your hands anymore; the sound only turns into whimpering screams.

He doesn’t stop. He’s giving you what you wished. Your birthday wish. He abuses the softness of your pussy repeatedly. He forces your palms off your mouth and wraps his hand around them to push them against the door so you can scream your pleasure into his mouth.

Your blissful climax topples you off your awareness. There’s only Lucien, guiding you through your orgasm with slowing thrusts when you squeeze around him. He gasps into your mouth and licks into it, against your tongue, and lets you ride it out, but he doesn’t stop.

He listens to your whines and makes them the sound that encourage him to cum. With weak arms you fight his hand off yours, and wrap them around him, the other under his silky shirt, the other in his thick, damp curls.

You kiss him with newfound fervor, barely hanging on to your rationality while he makes you forget yourself in the intense pleasure. Pins and needles run up and down your skin, it’s almost painful.

“Let go for me, Lucien, cum for me,” you manage to mumble against his lips. He gives out a ragged moan when the grind of his hips stutters. His whole body trembles. Sweat pours down his temples, down his neck, and his chest glistens in the half light of the hidden parking lot with a blush that has crept up to his cheeks.

He catches his breath against your neck with shuddering exhales, his moans heating your skin. You massage the back of his neck and allow yourself to close your eyes. You imagine what it would be like to let him love you, to let yourself relax without any uncertainty. You’re still split open by him, and if you could, you wouldn’t mind staying like this for longer.

Lucien opens the door and lets the cooling night air slip into the car. You push yourself up and with shaky fingers try to close the buttons that will hide the hickeys he left on your breasts.

He leans his head back against the headrest. He pushes his hand through his drying curls, leaving them tousled. You try your best to make your hands stop shaking, but they don’t. It almost seems like it’s getting worse.

“Let me,” he whispers, and you’re met with his quietness as he reaches towards you and steadily fastens the small buttons, covering your skin.

“Lean back,” he tells you and you do as he wishes. He gets something off the floor, which you recognize as the lace of your panties. He maneuvers them on you, and up your legs until you have to push your hips up and you replace his hands with yours. He sees the mess between your legs, his cum that is slicking the insides of your thighs.

“Was this what you wanted to give me?” You ask, almost hopeful that he’ll say yes. He looks up as he lifts his own hips to pull his trousers back up the rest of the way, closing the button right under the softness of his belly.

He shakes his head once and accompanies it with a chuckle. His eyes stay the same, rich and admiring, serious and playful at the same time. He buttons up his shirt while you put space between the two of you.

Suddenly, even after all the times you’ve fucked, you’re nervous. You don’t like to feel vulnerable around him, when it only means that you’re putting yourself at risk.

“No,” he finally says and reaches for the center console between the two front seats. Inside is a small box that he hands to you.

“Happy birthday.” It comes out so much deeper than it did before, full of the remains of his lust for you. You take the box and manage to get it open.

“It reminded me of you,” he says when you see a small, dark green gemstone pendant on a thin chain. You swallow against the dryness of your throat and touch it with the tips of your fingers.

“Let me,” he tells you softly and takes the box from you. You turn your back to him and close your eyes to fight the tears that are threatening to spill onto your cheeks.

The chain feels cool at first, but then burning hot when he closes the lock behind your neck and traces the metal against your skin. You turn back towards him and look at the gem between your fingers. Even in this faint light you can discover vivid red flakes on the surface.

“Thank you,” you reach for him and close him inside your arms. He buries his face against your neck and kisses it, the chain pressing between his lips and your skin.

“Want to go back?” He asks and with a trembling sigh you separate from him. You let him pull you out of the car and to your feet.

He straightens your clothes. The dress you chose to wear just because you knew he’d like it on you and which you hoped he’d take off you. He brushes his thumbs under your eyes and over your forehead and combs his fingers through your hair to make you look at least somewhat like you weren’t just fucked in someone’s car. The fresh air clears your head. It cools the deep burning in your chest and the dripping cum in your panties. It lets you close your heart from him again.

“Yes,” you say and lead him back towards the party, while you’d want to turn around, get back into his car and ask him to drive you away from here. He could take you anywhere, and you wouldn’t say no.

#lucien flores x reader #lucien flores x f!reader #lucien flores x female reader #lucien flores x you #lucien flores x f!plus-size!reader #lucien flores x plus-size!reader #lucien flores smut #lucien flores fic #lucien flores fanfic #lucien flores fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #katsheadincloudswrites #summer nights you and I

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dozing-marshmallow · 9 months

Note

Im so sorry for all the Chris’ nibling stuff but I absolutely love family type fics so could you please continue the thing into maybe World Tour?

Maybe Alejandro being like a big brother type thingy? You know since his big brother is kinda a bootyhole

NO DON’T APOLOGISE IT’S OKAY!! It’s a sign that you really enjoy this instalment and that makes me proud of my ability as a writer to engage yall so much. :’)

CHRIS MCLEAN’S NIBLING! READER WORLD TOUR HEADCANONS

It’s been a year, and Total Drama was coming back with its third season: a no-holds-barred race around the world in a jet!

It wasn’t surprising that it took a lot more conversation out of Chris to convince your parents to let you on this one- the suspicious measure of his jet’s safety, what you’d be exposed to this time around, your passport, visa, if the whole process was even legal.

In the end, they allowed it, primarily because it was Chris’ burden to bear the responsibilities and they trusted him enough to keep you safe.

This time, you didn’t need to pack; everything you’d need was at Chris’ place already.

That’s right! You started staying with him a lot more without your parents being around.

You were one year older, and so was everyone else.

Chris decided to invite two new contestants on the show. Potential friends?

“Eee! OMG! It’s Chris Junior! Hi! Hi! Hi!” One of them, the super fan Sierra wildly shakes your hand,“I always daydreamed about the day I’d get to meet my step-cousin, and now I’m finally here!”

“Step-cousin...?” you didn’t get it.

“(Y/N) your majesty, why don’t you go sit at the front with Chef while uncle Chris explains a few rules to the passengers?” Chris interrupts sweetly.

“Aww. Okay.” After you whispered to him,“Will I need to sing too?”

The plane took off, and you were flying into the sky!

“I think I can see my house from here!” You exclaim, peering out one of the holes in the wall modified as windows in the “economy” section. The wind taps your face. Canada looked like little rectangles!

“It’s a long way down! Don’t lean out too much, you don’t wanna fall!” Leshawna advised, beaming at you.

“I won’t fall! This is the Chris plane!” You declared, jumping off the bench and spinning around in circles.

The Chris plane broke out free in aggressive blue.

“Huuu...” you whimpered, cutting your dancing short,“Is that normal?... Is...this meant to happen?”

“Are you frightened?” An answer in the form of a question slid into your ears by Alejandro, the other new contestant.

“Y-Yeah...” you nod, clutching onto the window,“I’ve never been on a plane before... If this is what it’s like, I don’t think I like planes very much...”

“You don’t need to feel frightened.” A tanned arm of his surrounds you, seeming sincere, like a scared half to death boy who didn’t get this shield long ago,“I may not have much history with you, but it’s not in my morals to ignore a child in distress.”

You could see why your uncle wanted him on the show. His face was perfect, alright. And the hair on his chin really got you curious,“Can I...?”

“By all means.” He directs your hand to his goatee.

You stroke it. Soft...like silk,“My uncle told me about you. Don’t worry, I don’t snitch, but are you fake being nice to me?”

He shakes his head, his long dark hair similar to Chris’ elands with it,“I haven’t any intention to deceive you, little one.”

“You can say that, but not mean it...” you mumble, not happy with his nature, but happy enough to accept it the way it was.

“This is separate. I swear.” His fingers weren’t crossed,“I wonder, (Y/N)...you don’t happen to have siblings, do you?”

“Mm mm. My parents are busy so there’s only me.” You quiet your voice, now stroking his necklace,“If I did, I probably wouldn’t be on the show, and I’d be jealous that I’d have to share...”

“I see... It sounds like a life of luxury.”

“Ale-jandro!” your uncle appears down the hall,“Strategising already, are you?”

“What? Of course not! To use a child like this? I could never!” The Hispanic man quickly jumped to defend himself.

“Yeah yeah, the turbulence is over in case you missed it.” His odium of the sight sharpened his face, which was very new.

“What’s the problem here?” You’d like to know too. What gives, uncle?,“Please forgive me if I act in ignorance, for I did not see anything about-“

“You done? I’m uh, kinda waiting on you to get up and go.” much to your baffled expression, Chris’ impatience squished Alejandro’s right to speak, leaving him no other choice, but to bid an end to your moment together.

Nobody could look smart challenging the host. Not at the start as a newbie at least.

Understandable, though. Chris loses control over his contestants sometimes and didn’t want you to get in the middle of it.

Shortly, you arrive to Egypt, the first country, and watched the contestants take their mark to race across a pyramid. While you were so excited to visit new cultures and be in different countries, Egypt itself was unbearably dry.

“Ughhh uncle! How are you not hot?” You groan, flapping your hand in front of your face. Too hot... So hot...!

“Look what I’m wearing.” he answered, ironic since the most he wore was a nemes and loincloth- not even a shirt.

Seeing how relaxed he was nagged you to groan further,“I’m melllting!”

“Intern!” He yelled at a poor unpaid worker to rush and raise-low a palm leaf to you,“Better?”

“Ahh..” you groan, falling into the sand on your knees,“I could use some icy lemonade right now...”

This was going to be a loooooong season.

#chris mclean #chris mclean x reader #total drama chris mclean #tdi #total drama island chris #request #tdi x reader #td chris #total drama #td chris mclean x reader #td alejandro #total drama world tour #total drama alejandro #total drama headcanons #uncle chris mclean #chris nibling reader #nibling #nibling reader

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seris-circle · 1 year

Text

Keep It Under Wraps

Drew Starkeyxfemreader

Summary: Y/N and Drew, while on press in preparation for season 3’s release, try to hide a big secret.

Warning: Fluff, swearing, pregnancy

You were preparing for the interview at the Vanity Fair studio with Drew and the fellow OBX cast. You were styled in a lilac blouse that hugged your chest, accentuated by the pregnancy hormone enhancements raging through your body for the last 4 months. Trying to hide the bump for as long as you could in order to keep attention on the release of the new season rather than yourself, you paired this top with a high-wasted white pant that flared as it went from your waist down to your ankle. Of course, you intended to match Drew. Now newly engaged and with a baby on the way, you were the power couple on set.

You sat at the makeup vanity, staring at your figure, feeling like you looked so big compared to the rest of the ladies. Face puffy, boobs huge, and waist growing, no one couldn’t deny that you were with a child.

As you huff in a deep breath you feel arms wrap around your waist, rubbing your bump.

“You know you are the most gorgeous angel on this earth?” Drew said, laying a sweet kiss on your ear lobe. “I think even more gorgeous thanks to this little one”

“You’re just saying that because you have to,” You say giggling to yourself as you look into his eyes through the mirror. “I’m huge everywhere. My clothes don’t fit and I can barely breathe with the heartburn I have right now”

“I don’t think the growing features are too bad on you” He responded staring directly at your cleavage which was right in his face.

You smirk and turn around to face him. “Thank you, but keep it down for now. We have to get through this interview without it being completely obvious.” You say, his face dropping in the process.

“I don’t know why we have to keep hiding this anymore. Everyone knows we are together, why can’t they know about this exciting part of our lives?” He said, slightly raising his voice.

“Because, I don’t want to take the attention away from the show or the others. This is a big moment for all of us that needs to be shared. I promise I will stop hiding it when it is appropriate.” You said, holding his hands and reassuring him that his excitement can be released soon. You knew exactly when and where you were going to drop the bomb to the public since your friends and family already knew the news. “Now come on, we have to get over there” pulling him to the set for the interview.

There were two rows of chairs set up for the 9 of you. You decided to take a seat in the back in order to dry and conceal your waist from the camera view. Drew took a seat right next to you, grabbing your hand to calm you down.

“Who’s next?” Drew said attempting to kick the note card up into the air. Since you had sat next to him, it was now your turn. When walking over, drew managed to stay in the way of the camera’s view of you until you sat down and used the cards to block your bump. Once he was seated, you began.

“Drew isn’t allowed to answer any of these, he’ll get them all right!” JD exclaimed looking directly into the camera. You all laughed while drew put his arms up in surrender

“Ok… First question. Where and What did I study in college?” You ask your friends. Drew smiled at you because he knew right away but stayed quiet for the sake of the others.

“Biology! You wanted to be a doctor and deal with cells right?” Maddy yelled.

“Yeah, but where?” you followed.

“I don’t know” She responded, shrugging her shoulders.

“Providence?” Madison and JD asked in unison. You shook your head. The rest of the cast looked lost

“It was Salve Regina University, a small private school in Rhode island, so you were close with providence,” you said pointing to them.

“Next one! What was my childhood into adulthood cat’s name? AKA the Love of my life, sorry Drew” you said smiling, blowing a kiss to drew as he pretended to be heartbroken.

“I think we all know this” Chase said looking around at the whole cast

“Yeah, it's not like she talks about her all the time” Drew gocked. “So on three, 1…2…3”

“Willow!” The cast said in unison, making you smile.

“Y/N’s ride or die was that cat! I’m surprised if anything else in life would make her as happy” Maddy joked. There was something though and someone. Although you loved that cat, your soulmate was Drew and your new addition was a dream come true.

“Stop! You’re going to make me cry” you said and you were right because those hormones could start any tear at the drop of a dime. You noticed that drew threw you a soft look as the group began to laugh, you included. His gaze distracted you for second which brought you back to reality.

“Last question… “what is my special talent?” You raised your eyebrows and smirked

The group began to think, whispering between each other .

“I’m going to say ventriloquism” Austin said with some confidence, erupting a pool of laughter from the group. “No, but seriously, is it?”

“No, why? Do I look like I am?” You said nervously laughing. The group just made a suggestive look signaling that “anything is possible” vibe.

“Wait! I know!” Rudy yelled from his seat. “You know sign language” he continued.

You turned you card to reveal that he was correct.

“Ding Ding Ding” you said with a talk show accent. Rudy began to make finger guns towards the air as Chase pretended to make it rain cash on him.

Your turn was now over and now it was Chase’s turn. you asked the production team at VF to cut you walking back to your seat, they respected that and you went on with the interview, keeping your legs and arms crossed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You had done so many interviews at this point, luckily some took place on the same day so you didn’t have to plan outfits that set an illusion on your body. It was now the night of the premiere in LA for OBX and you were getting ready to walk the carpet. Tonight was the night you were going to make your pregnancy public. You were going to do this by wearing a curve-hugging pink midi dress. It enhanced your tits and ass, while also putting the growing bump on full display.

You walk down the stairs into the living room of the house you and Drew shared. You joined him and his mom there. He was facing away from you talking to her so when you entered, her face lit up. He turns and sees you, mouth agape from your appearance.

He walks over and engulfs you in an embrace. Coming up to peck your lips.

“You continue to surprise me. You don’t know how happy and excited I am that everyone gets to know about our little babe.” He said smiling down at you, staring into your eyes. You smile back and then you take his lips into yours once more before you leave for the premiere.

Drew steps out of the car first, assisting his mother out, then you. As you step out and get close enough for the public to take you in, people begin to scream.

“OMG! Congrats” a fan yells as you walk by. A smile forms with all the positive responses you are receiving. As you get to the center for photos, you meet Madelyn.

“YAY, Mama!” She says taking you in. She pokes your bump for a photo.

As the night went on, you took photos with the cast and by yourself. Finally, you were met with the interviewers implemented into the carpet.

“Hi Everyone, I’m here with Y/N Y/L/N at the premiere of Outer Banks season 3. How excited are you for people to watch?” She asks, directing her mic towards you.

“I am very excited for everyone to watch. I know the fans have been waiting and I can tell you that they will not be disappointed.” You said smiling and nodding as the interviewer took the mic back to her mouth.

“Can we talk about you tonight and the news you may have to share?” She said referring to your growing bump that was hugged by your garment.

“What? This?” you said into the mic. “I have become a competitive eater and this is my proof from the last tournament I won…Just kidding. Yes, I am pregnant. About 4 months now and I am excited as ever.” You continued, your cheeks heating up with happiness.

“That is amazing, congratulations.” The interviewer stated and you mouthed thank you in response. “Now, I know you weren’t pregnant when filming, but if you were, what would have been one stunt that you would've backed out from because of how intense it was?” She continued.

“Ummm…Katie doesn’t really get into all the stunts and stuff. but she does a lot of dancing on tables at the boat club and that can be a bit dangerous in stilettos so maybe that.” You shrugged.

“Amazing. We love a party girl. Last question, what is one word you would use to describe season 3?” She asked

“Romantic” You say with a smirk. “Yeah, get ready to get your heart pumping with lust ya hopeless romantics” you looked directly into the camera.

“We will keep a look out for all of those hints and you on the new season of Outer banks, thank you”You shake her hand and then make your way into the theater.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————

The night had come to an end and you walked out of the theater with drew, hand in hand. You were getting Jodi situated in her Uber to make sure to had made it back to her hotel as Drew sat talking to Austin. It should have been him taking care of his mother but he had drank more than enough for the both of you so his sense of direction was off, but you didn’t mind. Jodi was so kind and loving that she was now more family to you than just your fiancés mom. As you waved her off, you returned back to Drew in a fit of laughter.

“Oh don’t you look happy” you said as you walked up to him. He pulled you between his legs as he hugged your waist.

“Ooooh I am baby. Everyone is. We got to tell them about the baby and the show and-“ he stopped talking as he nuzzled your bump. “Mmmm, I love you” he said in a dazed tone. Austin took this as a time to leave as he tried to give you a side hug and patted drew on the shoulder.

“I love you too and I’m happy about this secret being lifted of my shoulders” you responded as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Come on let’s get home, I’m exhausted” you backed up, pulling him to his feet. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, giving you a kiss. You could taste the whiskey on his lips as they left yours.

“You look so good tonight, have I told you?” you nod as you lock eyes with him. “Yeah, but like really good. More than normal now” he responded then went to kiss your neck. You didn’t know why, but Drew loved your pregnant body, drunk or sober. Maybe it was that it was something that just brought you closer together, that you were carrying his child.

His state would have just lead to way too much pda so you tried to stop before he took it too far.

“Thank you, but we should save this until we get home” You said pulling him up to look at you. He pouted but obliged as you turned around to get to the car. You were guiding him to the get in but he stopped half way to yell;

“I am going to be a dad! I got the most sexiest gorgeous women pregnant! Whooo!” He yelled out to the world, not many people around but he hoped someone would hear. You just laughed and pushed him into the car. You followed in and took you seat next to him.

“I really am excited, but nervous too” he said pulling you close to him. He threw his arm around you and you laid your head in his shoulder. “But we’ll be great! I know it!” He reassured as he squeezed you tighter.

“I hope so” you responded looking up at him. He smiled back and you kissed him sweetly. The rest of the ride home was quiet as you just enjoyed each others embrace.

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #obx3 #outer banks

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tkaulitzlvr · 9 months

Note

Can I please request tom overworking a bit and distancing himself from his girlfriend (reader) and then she kind of goes to him while he's busy and has a breakdown and its comfort and fluff?

TIRED - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: tom has been more busy than usual with the band, not realising that by doing this, he has distanced himself from you. when you try talk to him, he finally breaks down.

content: fluff.

a/n: i wasn’t sure if u wanted tom or reader to have the breakdown, but i assumed tom, if u meant the reader i’m so sorry anon, but nonetheless thank you so much for the request!!

“hey my love, how was work?” i ask as tom trudges through the door, closing it with a loud thud. i don’t know why i bother asking him, i know that i’ll get minimal response, exactly as i have the past couple of weeks. yet he has acted like everything is fine, brushing me off when i ask what’s going on, so i have given up trying, slowly coming to the conclusion that it is something to do with me. perhaps he is becoming tired of me, and doesn’t want to be with me anymore - and that thought completely terrifies me. so i stay quiet, deciding that being with a distant tom who doesn’t feel the same about me is better than losing him altogether.

“fine.” he mutters, walking into the living room and seeing me sat on the couch, bending down to place a quick kiss on my forehead before leaving the room, going god knows where. this had become routine now - he would briefly let me know he was home, either giving me a quick hug or kissing me on my forehead, instead of the extreme levels of affection he would usually show. that was how my suspicions started. normally, he would come home, showering me with kisses, touching me in some way whilst letting me know how his day was, then ask how mine was, listening intently to every word that i would say. but, that all came to an end as i would be lucky to get a kiss on the lips before he would go to the kitchen or straight to bed, the most affection i receive being when he loosely wraps his arm around my waist whilst he sleeps every night.

i exit the living room, looking for tom and, staying true to that routine, i find him laid down in bed, his eyes empty and tired as he stares at the ceiling, his hoodie now off as he lays in some oversized basketball shorts.

he is aware of my presence, yet stays silent, refusing to even look at me as i stand in the door frame, watching him intently, wondering what went wrong, or, what i had done wrong to make him fall out of love with me - my mind now set on that idea as it is the only logical explanation it can come up with for his stand-offishness.

“do you still love me?” i speak into the silence, tom’s head shooting up as i say the words, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“what? of course i love you. why would you think that i don’t?” his voice is calm, laced with bewilderment, clearly wondering how i could ask such a question.

i can tell that he is sincere, meaning everything that he says, making me doubt my initial reasoning for his distance as i begin to feel a little stupid for thinking that he had fallen out of love with me. though the confirmation that i hadn’t done anything wrong only puzzled me more, making tom’s coldness towards me even more of a mystery.

i realise that i have been quiet for a little too long, tom’s eyes still looking into mine, his head raised from the pillow as he awaits my answer. i shake my head, forcing a small smile. “nothing. it’s just me being paranoid, sorry.”

he tilts his head to the side, not convinced at all.

“you sure?” he asks, this being the longest conversation we had in days, tom never wanting to engage in anything, instead offering short, one word answers. he still seems distant, but i can tell that my question clearly came as a surprise, this reassuring me a little.

i nod my head, walking to the bed and climbing in beside him, a strange tension between us as we lay in silence.

“goodnight.” he mutters, draping his arm over my stomach, still remaining a little far from me instead of his whole body being against me as it usually would be, my mind searching for answers as i am left completely confused, nothing adding up. i try to shake it off, hearing tom’s breathing slow from behind me, indicating that he has fallen asleep as i try to do the same, knowing that i am determined to get something out of him, even if it is the smallest detail that would help me piece together why he has started to act like this - now able to rule out it being my fault.

the door opens and closes, slamming a little louder than it usually does as the noise sounds throughout the house. i expect tom to show his face, come into the living room and give me a small reminder of his affection, before trudging off again. but, much to my surprise, he doesn’t even do that, marching straight up the stairs as a frustrated huff escapes his mouth, his steps loud and exaggerated, telling me that whatever is going on in his life certainly isn’t getting any easier. he had never gotten this angry, always making sure he said hey, even if it was just for a second, but i didn’t even see his face this time, letting me know that he is much more upset than usual.

although i can’t ignore the slight pang of fear from within me as i walk up the stairs to talk to him, i stay strong, just about done with his unexplained distance, wanting to get to the bottom of it. i hear the sound of his guitar from our bedroom, the door fully shut as his cursing momentarily shouts over the melody. my hand reaches for the door, hesitating a little as it hovers over the wood, before pressing my knuckles against it a few times.

my fingers clasp around the handle, turning it and pulling the door open. tom looks up for a second, seeing me standing there, before turning his attention back to the guitar, roughly strumming the strings.

“you okay?” i softly ask, slightly hurt at his ignorance, but this is about him not me, so i brush it off, accepting it as a small burst of his frustration. whilst he shouldn’t take it out on me, i know that the last thing he needs is me scolding him.

“great.” he mutters sarcastically, not looking up from the guitar that rests on his lap as he continues to fiddle with the strings, groaning with frustration as he throws his head back, his jaw clenched. he notices me still standing by the door, rolling his eyes slightly, visibly irritated by my presence.

“do you need something?” he sighs, aggravation plastered on his face as he stares at me, eyes cold and strangely foreign, no care within them as it is suddenly obvious he wants nothing more than for me to leave him alone.

i am slightly hurt at his words, the harshness of them stinging my chest as my expression softens, eyes becoming glossy. i look to the floor, not liking the idea of him to see me become so easily upset from his outburst, wanting to appear stronger, but i know that my sadness is evident.

his face softens as he puts his guitar to the side of him on the bed, finally feeling guilty for taking out his frustration on me.

“god i’m sorry- i didn’t mean it like that.” he begins, his voice much softer than before.

my sadness soon turns to anger as i am now completely tired of the way he has treated me, not able to handle his coldness any longer.

“then how did you mean it tom? ‘cause these past few weeks all you’ve done is shut me out! i’ve asked you what’s wrong so many times, and you lie to me over and over again. can you please just talk to me? i’m tired of feeling like i’m fighting just to have a conversation with you.” i pour my heart out, noticing the way his expression falters, eyes darting around the room as tears begin to form a glassy blanket over them.

he looks down into his lap, playing with the material of his hoodie, bouncing his leg up and down against the floor, this something he does whenever he is anxious.

“well? you know i’m here for you, so why are you leaving me in the dark? this isn’t fair tom, i want to help you but you won’t let me in.” i continue, yet his eyes remain fixed on the floor, his body tensed up.

“i’m sorry.” he mumbles, his voice shaky as i soon realise that he is crying. his quiet sniffles escape his mouth after he has uttered those two words, his shoulders shaking as he sobs.

my heart clenches at the sight, wishing i could somehow take away his pain and make it my own, hating to see him upset. i rush over to him, sitting beside him on the bed and quickly pulling him into me as he sobs into my shoulder. his arms wrap around my back, clutching onto me so tightly it is hard to breathe, but right now, the only thing on my mind is comforting him, and i will do anything to be there for him.

“talk to me baby. what’s going on with you?” i whisper gently, my fingers playing with the end of his cornrows as his breathing speeds up, his tears falling onto my t-shirt.

he tries to speak, but his words are masked by his sobs, completely incoherent.

“shhh, just calm down first, we’ll talk once you’re settled, mhm?” i say, moving backwards so that i am laying flat against the bed, tom wrapping both arms around my waist as he continues to cry into my shoulder. my nails run up and down his back, this something i would do when he couldn’t sleep to relax him, but right now it seems to be working as his cries begin to slow, his breathing returning to it’s normal rate.

“you ready to talk?” i ask, looking downwards at him as he removes his head from my shoulder for the first time, his eyes red and bloodshot, lips curved into a slight frown.

he nods, sitting up a little, his arms still securely around my waist.

“it’s just- work has been so stressful. tour is coming up so soon, and rehearsals are just so tiring, and i keep fucking it up!” he sighs, his voice wavering as he comes to the end of his speech, taking a deep breath before continuing. “i don’t want to let the guys down, they’ve worked so hard and i’m just ruining it all. maybe i should just quit, i’m clearly not good-”

“woah, hey, slow down a little. you know none of that’s true. you’re the most talented person i know, stop doubting yourself. you’re human, you’re going to make mistakes. but that doesn’t mean you should stop doing what you love. you know that i’ll always believe in you.” i say, looking into his eyes as his thumb begins to move in small circles on my stomach.

“you’re just saying that ‘cause you’re my girlfriend and you have to.” he sighs.

“i’m saying this because i love you and i hate it when you doubt yourself so much. it should matter more coming from me, because i know you better than all of the people that doubt you.” i remind him, a little hurt at the fact that he thinks i’m lying.

“what if i fuck up and make us lose our rhythm? it’ll ruin an entire concert, and then it’s all on me.” he says, maintaining eye contact as i sigh, in complete disbelief of how someone so talented can have so little faith in their own ability.

“has that ever happened before?” i ask, already knowing the answer, needing to hear him admit it.

he shakes his head slowly.

“exactly. so what’s overworking yourself and getting stressed out going to achieve? you’re only gonna make it worse. you need to take a break.” i reply, seeing the way that he is tearing himself apart, hating himself for making the smallest of mistakes. “besides, i think i deserve to have you to myself for a couple days. i’ve missed you a lot you know.”

a small smile tugs on his lips as he reaches upwards, planting a gentle kiss on my lips. pulling back to rest his forehead against mine, one hand cupping my cheek.

“you’re right schatz.” he begins. “i’m really sorry for how distant i’ve been. none of this is your fault, i just shut myself off and that isn’t fair on you.”

he kisses my lips again, tightening his hold on me before moving back, a soft smile on his face as he pulls me onto his lap, his arms securely around my waist.

“this weekend…” he trains off, a suggestive grin playing on his lips as he gives my waist a gentle squeeze. “just me and you. we’ll do whatever you want. how’s that sound?”

“anything?” i tease, looking into his eyes playfully as he lets out a small laugh.

“anything.” he repeats, seeing the way my face lights up in excitement. “but…i want just one thing in return.”

he says the last part slowly, and the way his eyes narrow, a playful look of lust present within them, i know exactly what he means, hitting his arm and shaking my head, glad to finally have my boyfriend back, loving every part of him - even the sex obsessed, overly horny side, not wanting to trade any of it for the world.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tom kaulitz #tokiohotel #kaulitz twins #kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz fluff #tomkaulitz #tom kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz

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chrisevansonly · 10 months

Text

Daddy’s Blues (harry’s angel)

pairing: harry styles x female reader (angel)

summary: harry’s been away for a few weeks working on new music, when he gets home his baby girl doesn’t recognize him and it breaks his heart

warnings: some angst, sad harry but also fluffy goodness<3

a/n: just a little blurb while i get back into writing. i’ve aged violet up in this fic ofc! not too too much, but thank you for the request <3

If you asked anyone in the world who Harry loved the absolute most, he would say his baby girl Violet, who every day just seemed to get getting bigger and bigger. Now at almost 6 months old she was becoming more and more curious, sometimes mumbling words that sounded like dada or mama, but most of the time they just sounded like little random babbles. She was the best thing that had ever happened to you and Harry, everyday you’d both fawn over her like you’d been doing since the day she was born.

Harry had been out of town for two weeks, having some engagements and meetings that required him to leave you both at home in Cheshire. It was hard enough leaving you when he needed to leave, but one look at Violet’s little squishy face and he was milliseconds from cancelling the entire trip.

“No I can’t go…I-I shouldn’t”

You frowned, placing a hand on his cheek

“H we’ll be fine, we can facetime everyday, and besides it’s only two weeks lovie”

“Look at her…I don’t wanna leave her”

You watched as Violet looked up at her dad, a gummy smile on her face as he leaned down to kiss her cheeks

“I know you don’t, but the sooner it’s done, the faster you can come home right?”

Eventually he nodded, finally finding the courage to leave your home and make his way to the airport, the two weeks were going to feel like an eternity.

Now here you and Violet were, sitting out in the sun, enjoying your backyard, her little hands grabbing at the toys you had laid out for her to enjoy, her eyes watching you fly around her favourite stuffed bunny, making funny voices and sounds

“silly silly bunny, what’s he doing petal?”

Little laughs and giggles spilled from her lips as you brought the toy down to kiss her face gently, the fur tickling her

“oh! does that tickle!”

“ma ma ma ma”

You laughed

“Yes baby, i’m mumma”

Her hands clapped together as she watched you continue to move the stuffed animal around, only pausing when the back door opened, Harry finally arriving home from his trip

“Daddy’s home petal! Who’s that!”

Violet watched Harry carefully, who had now been sporting a little bit of a beard, something she hadn’t really seen before, so she stayed quiet

“Hi my baby, did you miss me?”

It wasn’t until Harry went to pick Violet up that she whimpered, her arms reaching back out for you as Harry looked at her in alarm

“Violet, it’s daddy baby…you’re alright”

Getting up you stood close to them, giving Harry a kiss on his cheek hoping that would calm your little girl down but she only begun to cry, her bottom lip wobbling

“I dont-I wasn’t gone for that long…”

Harry handed you Violet before sighing, a hand rubbing his chin

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone, she’s forgotten all about me already.”

“My love, she hasn’t forgotten about you, maybe she’s just a bit grumpy?”

You looked at Violet cooing at her softly

“Little love, it’s daddy, you love daddy so much…what’s wrong darling?”

You were trying to think of every possibility it could have been for her sudden mood change, Harry becoming more and more upset as time went on and she wouldn’t settle

“I’m going to unpack and shower…that way she’ll stop fussing.”

He was gone back inside before you could say anything to comfort him, a frown etched on your face when Violet seemed to calm down at the loss of her father.

“Oh silly girl…what are we gonna do huh?”

Harry had been upstairs for almost two hours at this point, Violet more than happy to play on her sensory mat in the living room, your watchful eye making sure she was okay, even if you could hear her babbling away to herself. You couldn’t help but feel bad for H, knowing how much he loves her and the look on his face when Violet cried upon seeing him.

It wasn’t until he finally came down as you sat down to play with Violet that you heard her go

“Da da! Da da!”

You smiled turning to see Harry who’d now shaved, a laugh escaping you

“Violet…you silly silly girl!”

Harry remained by the entrance to the living room before Violet began to wiggle, her hands reaching for him

“Da da!!!!”

Finally he came over, sitting down and picking her up so she could rest in his lap, her hands touching his face gently

“Now you remember who I am petal? Hmm?”

Smiling you watched the two of them cuddle up together

“H it was your beard…I don’t think she’s seen you with one, that’s why she was upset earlier”

“I guess I forgot to shave didn’t I?”

Shrugging your shoulders you shuffled your way over to them, the three of you leaning up against the couch together, Violet happily playing with Harry’s bracelet every so often making her little noises

“Next time Vi just tell daddy y’hate the beard and you’ll never see it again, i’ll shave all the time if you want me to, pink promise”

She smiled as he stuck out his pinky finger, which she promptly took and began to knaw on with her gums

“So it’s settled, no more beard”

He turned to you and laughed at the pout on your face now

“Oh now what’s with the pout on you angel?”

“I love your beard…”

He laughed leaning over to press a kiss to your lips

“M’sorry, gonna have to say goodbye to it for a while m’afraid”

You sighed dramatically but in reality you both would do anything to see Violet happy, even if you had to say goodbye to Harry’s beard…and don’t forget the dad mustache too.

It was a sacrifice that had to be made, even if you weren’t totally on board..

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effloradox · 1 year

Text

i forgot that you existed; dracula.

track one of LOVER

pairing: dracula x f!reader

synopsis: you share dreams of past lives with your soulmate

word count: 3.4k

Your dreams have always been a source of confusion amongst your family. They’ve always been vivid, and almost always been the same. Flashes of dancing in crowded rooms with people wearing extravagant clothing at parties running until way after the clock struck midnight. Your soulmate’s always been the sole person you’ve danced with in the dream, and even if you can’t make out his face, you can tell from the way the other dancers look at him he must be handsome. His presence seems to command the attention of everyone in the room, and if it were to happen in this life then you know you’d be much too nervous to have everyone’s eyes on you to enjoy dancing.

Being able to connect to your soulmate via your dreams has always been a strange system. You get flashes of past lives together but can’t physically see what your soulmate looks like until you reunite with them in this life. You have a few clues; you know that your soulmate’s tall, like over six foot tall, and it seems like in a past life he was rich if your suspicion that the ball you’ve been dancing in every night is in honour of your soulmate.

Your dreams have been getting increasingly darker though, with flashes of things that you can’t quite place but leave you waking up crying or screaming. It’s started to worry your parents when they call to see how you are and it’s clear you’ve not been sleeping. There’s no medicine to suppress soulmate dreams and sleeping tablets leave you feeling trapped in lucid dreams, aware it’s a dream and yet unable to escape to the safety of the waking world.

So far you’ve been to multiple soulmate specialists and they’ve been unable to help with the problem, and you’ve resorted to setting a plethora of alarms through the night, allowing yourself to rest without ever falling into your REM cycle. It’s been worrying your friends, especially Jack, which you’re chalking up to his occupation as a doctor, but if nothing improves then it’s currently your only way to stay sane and rest without having a nightmare. It’s not been particularly helpful in keeping a steady job either, since your permanent exhaustion leaves you with heavy brain fog most days. It’s not been the easiest earning the money for rent, and whilst Jack has assured you that he’s earning enough to cover you for rent for at least a little while, you can’t help but feel bad that more of the financial burden has fallen onto him.

In a way, him offering you a chance to apply for the research program at the Jonathan Harker Foundation feels a bit like a lifeline. You don’t expect to be chosen, so when you get the phone call asking you to come in, you can’t help the surprise that leaks into your tone when you tell the woman on the phone you’ll be ready to head there as soon as possible. Jack was out at a club when you got the call, and you’re not expecting him to be there so you quickly grab a small overnight bag, and wait for the car they’re sending to show up. The journey there is quiet, and you pass the time scrolling Instagram, only stopping when you see a post from Jack’s friend Lucy announcing her engagement. It makes you wince slightly, you know Jack’s had a crush on her forever, you can’t imagine how he’s feeling right now. You send a quick text asking if he’s okay, putting your phone away just as you pull up to the foundation, thanking the driver as you get out of the car and head inside. Signing in for the process is easy enough, it’s mainly just a nurse asking if your medical records are up to date whilst you change into a pair of scrubs. The last thing she gives you before sending you on your way is a small lanyard that has your blood type on before you’re led into a small auditorium by another member of staff.

The presentation starts not too long after you’ve sat down, and the video of the recent exploration of the Demeter fills the projection screen. There’s only a handful of people sitting, maybe 20 at most, and the video is only disturbed when some more people walk in. You turn slightly, and are surprised to see Jack walk in with Dr Van Helsing. The woman giving the presentation continues after a small interlude, and then the video shifts to them finding a coffin that had been on the Demeter. You lose interest slightly as she talks about how unusual it was that the coffin was unchanged after over a century, and your attention only shifts back when they open the case and you get a full look at the body stored within it.

The frozen body of Count Dracula shown on screen immediately demands your full attention, and you can’t help but feel like you know that face. You can’t shake the feeling that he’s familiar though in what way you wouldn’t be able to say. The woman giving the presentation continues on to say about how well preserved the body was, and the speech only takes a shift when the diver on the screen places a hand too close to the teeth of Dracula. The water is immediately filled with blood and the video pauses on the image of the diver’s finger caught in the mouth of the Count.

“The body was not preserved. Dracula was, in fact, alive, though dormant. Apparently, in some restorative coma in which he would have remained if I hadn’t been stupid enough to feed him. So, in case you’re wondering, vampires bite.” The presenter lifted her arm at the end of her speech, showing off a cast on her arm that she had concealed until then. A few of the people around you let out a nervous chuckle, but the sombre mood returns as the presenter continues to speak. “You need to know what you’re signing up for. We will keep you safe but this isn’t just about giving blood. It’s not just another student drug trial, there is a reason it is better paid. Now, you will have controlled exposure to a vampire, are we clear?” A general murmur of agreement passes through the other volunteers in the room, and the presenter seems to look closely at you all for any signs of hesitation or regret. When she is apparently satisfied, she continues with her lecture.

“Obviously at this point, having triggered his revivification, we opted for a tactical retreat. We resealed the box so nothing could interfere with the process, and we monitored from the shore. It took Dracula another ten hours to fully revive and, of course, we were waiting for him on the beach. He was brought here shortly after, but not before he had killed someone. We are not telling you this to scare you, but you have to be aware of all of the risks that can come from being part of the programme.”

“How can you guarantee our safety?” The voice comes from behind you, and most heads in the room turn to face the man who spoke.

“Dracula is currently sealed in a solid steel and glass prison cell, above which is a roof that retracts and allows sunlight inside which we can direct to keep him in place. You will only enter the room when the sun is up so if he were to act out in any way, the sunlight would immediately put a stop to it. There are also multiple armed guards stationed within the room at any given time. There will be risk, of course, but we will do everything in our power to keep you safe. Does that answer your question?” The man who spoke up nodded and the presenter leant back on the table. “Does anyone else have any questions?”

“Does he speak English?”

“He does. When he spoke briefly to Doctor Van Helsing, he said that the blood he consumes allows him to access memories or skills that the person feeding him possesses. When I fed him, he learned how to speak English.” The presenter answers a few more questions before more researchers come in and escort all the volunteers out. You’re quick to make your way to Jack’s side as they ask you all to separate according to your blood types, leading the various groups down a maze of corridors leading deeper into the facility.

“You certainly took your time getting here.”

“I wasn’t expecting to get the phone call at - in the morning.” With everything that had happened, you’d forgotten that Jack had been on a night out when you’d been picked up. You winced slightly at the lapse in your memory.

“How’re you feeling? I saw Lucy announce her engagement on Instagram.” You watch as Jack’s expression falters slightly at the reminder of the night’s bombshell and you can’t help but reach out and squeeze his hand. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be. Probably for the best. We never would’ve worked out anyway.”

“You don’t know that, Jack.” The smile Jack sends your way is full of sadness, you both know that he’s thought the silhouette in his dreams was Lucy for the longest time. You can’t even begin to imagine how it feels to find out that they aren’t destined to be together the way Jack has hoped for. You try to change the subject over to how well Zoe’s looking, all things considered and, once the conversation is on steadier ground, it’s easy to pass well over an hour in the waiting room chatting quietly with your friend until a man in a lab coat walks into the room, a clipboard in hand.

“Miss (Y/N)? We’re ready for you now.” You feel the eyes of everyone in the room land on you as you stand slowly. You try to hide it, but you can feel your legs shaking slightly with anxiety. You feel Jack squeeze your hand gently before letting go as you make your way towards the door and leave the other volunteers behind. Whilst they’ve guaranteed your safety, you can’t help but feel like you’re walking towards your own execution. You know you’re finally there when Zoe is standing outside a door waiting for you. She looks much more relaxed than you do, like this is an everyday occurrence for her rather than some freak miracle.

You’re not sure what to expect when you’re led into the holding room for Dracula. It’s been described to you in detail, but it’s still strange walking into the room and seeing the glass prison for yourself. The Count himself is lying down on the cot they provided for him, arms crossed behind his head, and when the door closes behind you, he doesn’t move.

“You’ve brought yet another lamb to slaughter then?” The voice makes you jolt and you hear a quiet chuckle from the cell. “Oh it’s another jumpy one then?”

You can’t help the anxiety on your face as the attendant guides you to the door of the cell. You watch as the guard shifts the sunlight, blocking Dracula from getting to the door as the attendant unlocks it. They give you a slight nudge to encourage you to walk in and you force yourself to take a deep breath before stepping into the cell, listening as the door is closed behind you. The vampire hasn’t moved to get up yet, and, despite the barrier of sunlight separating the two of you, you can’t help but look nervously over to Zoe who’s watching closely from outside.

“Count Dracula, I believe it would be rude for you to ignore your guest. Again.” The vampire let out an exaggerated sigh before moving to stand up.

“I’d hardly call it rude Dr Van Helsing, do you make a habit of looking your food in the eye before you…”

The vampire's words trail off as he finally looks at you. In a second, he’s up on his feet, standing just before the barrier of sunlight. He’s looking at you with a kind of reverence you have only ever seen in your dreams, and things suddenly slot into place in your mind. It’s him. He’s the man who’s been haunting your dreams for as long as you can remember. Time seems to grind to a halt for both of you as your dreams flash through your mind, this time with his face crystal clear in your mind.

You take a step forward without even thinking, working purely on instinct, before a pair of arms are wrapped around you and you're pulled back to the door of the cage. Dracula’s expression shifts from reverence to fury, as he snarls at the person holding onto you. You watched as he moved towards you, seemingly forgetting about the wall of sunlight separating the two of you until it had come into contact with his skin and he instantly recoiled back into the shade, rage still evident on his face. The two of you continue to look at each other even as you’re pulled out of the cage and the door is slammed shut. You realise that the person who pulled you out is Zoe, her face scrunched with fury as she glares at the vampire. She gives you a quick once-over to check that you’re not hurt, frowning at the slightly dazed look you’re sporting. She turns back to the vampire, who’s eyes haven’t left yours.

“What did you do to her?” If he hears Zoe, Count Dracula gives no indication of doing so. He walks towards the wall of the cell to be as close to the two of you as possible. When he next speaks, he ignores Zoe completely, his focus solely on you.

“Well, this is a surprise, isn’t it? After all this time, I assumed you would have passed me by. I have crossed oceans of time to find you, my dear. I suppose I crossed a literal ocean as well.” To Zoe’s credit, she seems to work out what has happened quickly and, once she understands, she’s quick to grab you once again, pulling you back to the door leading to the rest of the facility. You’re not sure if it’s the sheer exhaustion of not having one of your naps or the shock of meeting your soulmate but you can barely find it in you to fight against the harsh grip on your arm, and you allow yourself to be pulled out, keenly aware that Dracula’s voice is getting more aggressive as he yells for Zoe to let go of you. You can still hear him even when you’re halfway down the corridor, Zoe’s grip still acting like a lifeline to a reality that doesn’t seem to make any sense anymore.

Whilst you don’t know Zoe very well, she knows Jack much better than you after all, you know that there’s no way she’ll let you go back in to see Dracula after finding out you’re his soulmate. She’s good enough to get someone to drive you back home so you can try and get some rest and then you're being gently escorted out of the facility and back into the harsh reality of the world. It occurs to you that Jack has no idea about how earth shattering the day has been for you as well as him and you send a text to him letting him know you’ll meet him back at the house and you have news to tell him before he worries about where you’ve gone. It’s all you can do to not fall asleep in the car and when you close your front door you head immediately to your room and all but collapse onto your bed. You set a timer giving yourself an hour to rest and then take a well needed sleep.

It’s quiet when you wake up. It’s never particularly loud in the house, but you’d expect to hear the gentle thrum of the boiler if Jack had come home and turned the heating on, or maybe just the sound of him moving around downstairs but it’s weirdly silent. You’re always groggy when you’ve had a nap (definitely a result of you avoiding any real sleep), so your first port of call is to grab your phone and head downstairs to make yourself a coffee. You make your way slowly down the stairs, checking for any messages. You have two texts; one from Jack, and one from Zoe. The message from Jack says he’ll be home soon and is excited to see you, which is somewhat strange since it was sent almost as soon as you fell asleep and he’s still not back. You finish making your coffee and you take a moment to process the last 24 hours before checking Zoe’s text. Reading it makes your blood run cold.

Dracula has escaped. He took Jack’s phone. We’re sending someone to pick you up.

The implications of the text are unnerving to say the least. You’re not sure if it means that Dracula of all people was the one to reply to your message or he took it after Jack replied to you but you make a mental note to ignore any messages from Jack and only keep in touch with Zoe.

The knocking on the front door makes you jump, cutting through the eerie silence that was dominating the house and pulling you out of your thoughts. You put the empty mug in the sink, pocketing your phone before opening the door. You don’t recognise the man on the other side, and he doesn’t strike you as a scientist. He looks almost nervous for some reason, and you noticed that his hand shook slightly as he shifted his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t quite look you in the eye when he finally looks at you.

“I was sent to collect you.” There’s a small part of your brain that doesn’t trust the man in front of you, but you wouldn’t be surprised if the Zoe had specifically chosen a driver you hadn’t met before so you’re quick to grab your house keys, locking the door behind you and following the man to the car with blacked-out windows that he heads to. The drive is in silence again, and when he pulls up on the drive of a moderately sized house rather than the Harker Foundation, your anxiety spikes immediately. It’s an area you don’t recognise, and it occurs to you that you wouldn’t be able to make your way home unaided.

“I thought I’d be going back to the Foundation.”

“This is a safe house. It’s where I was instructed to drop you off.” You let out a soft acknowledgement, pulling your phone out and sending a message to Zoe that you’re at the safe house before climbing out of the car. You can sense the driver watching you as you walk to the door, testing the handle and letting yourself in when you find it to be unlocked. It’s dark inside, reflecting the setting of the sun outside. You walk into the main room of the house, and your only source of light is a small candle. All the curtains have been drawn and you can’t help but feel like this is some kind of trap. When you hear something shift behind you, you’re quick to turn and you let out a scream when you see the looming figure of Count Dracula standing in the doorway. He doesn’t react to your scream except for a small smile appearing on his face.

“Now, there’s no need to scream, dearest. You know I won’t do anything to harm you.” You back away, immediately feeling like a deer in the headlights. You only stop when you feel the wall against your back and you have nowhere else to go.

“What did you do to Jack?”

“Nothing. He misplaced his phone at the institute, I merely found it and happened upon your number.”

“How did you find where we live?”

“Jack very helpfully had it labelled on his Google Maps.”

“And the man outside?”

“My lawyer. He’s been rather helpful in helping me to adjust to modern living.”

“What do you want with me?”

“I’ve done nothing but dream of you for over a century my dear. I think it’s high time we get to know each other.” The vampire steps towards you, in a move that feels like he’s sealing your fate. In what feels like a recreation of one of your recurring dreams, he stops in front of you, and offers you one of his hands. “May I have this dance?”

#my writing #dracula x reader #bbc dracula x reader #fem!reader #lover

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goldenempyrean · 6 months

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Nyquil After A Night Out

« Day 4: "We could've cancelled, I would've understood! »

« Pairing: Supercorp »

« Notes: Cute lil supercorp fic for everyone today :D How are we liking the co-written advent this year? Lmk! Also sorry if this is kinda unedited not really with it today :,) »

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙〘 Advent 2023 Masterlist! 〙

Lena pulled her sleek coat a little tighter around herself as she stepped out of her black car and into the bustling street as a sharp chill ran down her spine. She’d already started to notice the telltale signs she was starting to come down with something earlier in the week and truthfully Lena knew she probably should’ve slowed down a little to rest but not only had she been thoroughly swamped with work, her excitement for today’s date with Kara had kept her going.

She muffled a raspy cough into her elbow as she navigated down the streets toward

the cosy secluded restaurant where she and Kara had planned to meet. But Lena's steps were slower than usual, and she couldn't shake the feeling of fatigue settling in. Yet as she entered the warm ambiance of the restaurant and spotted Kara sitting at a corner table, she was helpless to fight back the bright smile forming on her face.

Kara looked up from the menu and her eyes immediately softened at the sight of Lena approaching the table, "Hi darling," she greeted her warmly but concern flickered across in her gaze when she noticed the unnaturally crimson flush sitting on Lena’s cheeks. "You okay?"

Lena managed a small nod, attempting to push through the weariness. "A little under the weather. I’m okay, don’t worry.” She stammered as Kara stood up to pull out her chair, thanking her kindly, “Just a little peaky.”

Truthfully Lena surprised herself a little with her own honesty but Kara always had a way of making her feel so safe in her presence that she couldn’t help but give in.

Kara’s infamous crinkle formed in her brow as she pouted a little, “We could’ve cancelled, I would’ve understood!” She exclaimed, a little too loudly causing some to glance over in their direction, “Look, I just don’t want you forcing yourself to be here if you’re not up to it. We can get dinner at a later time whenever you’re feeling better.”

“No, no. Please,” Lena began, “I want to be here Kara, I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all week, please.” She mirrored Kara’s same pout and the blonde was helpless to do anything except cave in. After-all, how could she deny that face?

Throughout their dinner the poor Luthor looked as if she was fighting to stay awake. Despite wanting to seem aware and engaged, her eyes keep dropping closed, as her dizzy head continually bobbed forwards.

Luckily their meal didn’t take long to arrive and the two delved into their food, Kara excitedly shoving the large pizza she’d order in her mouth. But as they shared their food, a little itch at the back of her sinuses caught Lena’s attention. She tried to ignore it, wanting to keep focused on their conversation. The CEO subtly rubbed her finger beneath her nose in an attempt to chase the tickle away, but ultimately she had no such luck. It only seemed to make things worse and she barely reached for a napkin in time to muffle a series of sneezes into it, her face blushing with embarrassment as she excused herself with a quiet apology.

“Bless you, hey, I think we should get you home, you look exhausted darling.” Kara purred as she sipped the last of her wine before placing her hand over Lena’s, gently using her thumb to rub small circles over her skin, “We could go back to my apartment if you’d like? I can take care of you a little.” She offered sweetly.

“But I dont- You dont- Look, you and I, we’re not even official yet.” Lena almost whispered, “I don’t want you to be put off by this.” She gestured to herself before muffling a cough into her napkin.

“Being ill, being taken care of. It’s not something I’m used.” She admitted, her eyes cast down to the table hiding from Kara’s sympathetic gaze.

But the Kryptonian only shook her head in reply, raising her hand to gently tilt Lena’s chin up so that the two locked eyes once again, “It’s okay, don’t worry. We can stop buying the store on the way home, pick you up some things that’ll help.” She smiled, taking the same hand and outstretching it to hold Lena’s, “It’ll be okay darling. We’ll figure this out together.”

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#supercorp #kara x lena #supercorp fanfic #kara danvers #lena luthor #sapphics #sickfic #fluff #caretaking #supergirl #empyrean's advent 2023

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mandos-mind-trick · 1 year

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Close Call

Summary: Midnight’s seen a lot over the course of this war. She’s had her own close calls many times, she’s saved the others from close calls too. She’s tired of fighting, her mind and body finally beginning to burn out after months of almost non-stop missions. This one might be the grain of sand that breaks the bantha’s back. This might be the end for her.

Pairing: Echo x reader, also implied poly bad batch x reader

Warnings: Very intense in the beginning, violence, blood, injuries, brief gore (It’s very brief), so much angst, NSFW, smut, p in v sex, fingering, toys, language.

A/N: This one is a lot darker than the rest of the series. I really debated going this direction but I decided to explore it anyway. It's very long, the longest part in the series (so far) with a lot of foreshadowing and setting up the rest of the series.And yes, I made my own Jedi for this part.Also if anyone gets the reference I will literally send you cookies.

< Previous | Next > | MASTERLIST

“The goal of this mission is stealth. Get in and get the data without being seen.” General Coltil says. “That’s why the three of you will be going in alone.”

Midnight tries not to look nervous, but she feels like she might be sick. She’s standing next to Echo, trying not to lean too close to him. She’d love to cling to him, seek any sort of comfort she can, but she knows that’s not an option. Not in front of a Jedi General.

“Echo can get into the system and download the data directly. Midnight will be the failsafe. She’s the smallest and stealthiest of our group.” Hunter says.

General Coltil nods. “My Padawan can assist with any resistance you find inside. Scouts have reported very little movement. It seems they may be operating on a skeleton crew. We must try and succeed without engaging directly, but we will be on standby if things don’t go according to plan.”

“We’re ready, sir.” Commander Ghost says, approaching the General. “Everyone’s taken point.”

The General turns to Midnight and Echo. “Good luck.”

They both salute him, Midnight trying hard not to let her fear show on her face. The General leaves them to their last minute checks, Midnight’s stomach doing somersaults.

“You’ll be fine.” Hunter says, turning to her. Of course he could sense her anxiety.

“This is a bad idea.” She says, looking up at him as he checks her armor one last time. “Why does it have to be me? I don’t know anything about Separatists systems.”

“Tech will walk you through it if it comes to that. Plus, you’re small enough to fit in a standard ventilation shaft, should something go wrong.” Hunter says.

Midnight turns her gaze to Tech. “Is that why you had me crawl in there?”

Tech adjusts his goggles. “One of the reasons, yes.”

Midnight opens her mouth to protest, but thinks better of it and stays quiet. There was no getting out of this one. It should be easy, theoretically. In and out without being seen. She’d spent much time on Coruscant running around, trying not to be seen. This wasn’t much different, though she’s not sure if she prefers sneaking around droids or the things that lurked in the shadows of Coruscant’s underworld.

Hunter squeezes her shoulder, his gaze intense as he stares at her. She knows he wants to say more, knows he wants to do more, but they can’t. They can’t give any hints that something was going on between them. Between any of them.

“Take care of Echo in there, okay?” Hunter says, squeezing her shoulder one last time.

Midnight nods, the lump in her throat blocking her from saying anything. How she wishes she would have, as she glances at the other four members of her squad one last time. Oh how she’d come to regret not saying anything else.

*****

Hunter shifts on his feet nervously, fingers toying with the knife sheathed on his vambrace for the thousandth time. It had been close to an hour since he’d sent them off, since he’d watched Midnight and Echo disappear over the ridge they were hiding behind.

He had trusted they could do this, but now as time stretches on, he wonders if they made the right decision. If they were discovered, the Separatists wouldn’t think twice in killing them both. It would be a mercy, compared to the other things that could happen to them.

The thought still makes Hunter uneasy. Dying was a part of war. They had it ingrained in them that losing someone was expected, that they were going to lose fellow clones. Midnight’s not a clone, though. She’s so much more than that, and the thought of losing her makes him sick. The thought of losing any of his squad made his stomach ache.

Wrecker is pacing as well, looking upset by the situation. He had been in agreement with Midnight and her doubts when Hunter had first briefed them on this mission. Tech is quietly tinkering, his own tell for his nerves about this.

Crosshair is quiet, having taken point along the ridge with a few others of the 141st. They would be the first to alert them to the movements of the three sent into the base. Or, in the worst case, if something else happened. If something went wrong.

“We’re inside.” Echo’s voice comes over the comms.

Hunter breathes a quiet sigh of relief. They were still alive, at least.

“Good.” General Coltil’s voice comes over the comms. “How many droids have you seen?”

“Hardly any.” Midnight’s voice comes over the comms. “Maybe two at the front door. None since then.”

Hunter’s brow furrows, something itching in the back of his mind at her words. It doesn't feel right, even for a skeleton crew. If a base housed such important data, he would think it would be crawling with droids and Separatist personnel. Of course, not being seen by any droids was the whole point of the mission.

It makes him uneasy.

“Uploading the data now.” Echo updates over the comms.

The silence that follows makes Hunter’s skin prickle. Wrecker has stopped pacing and even Tech has stopped his tinkering. It feels like the entire planet is holding its breath. In a way it is, all of them waiting for some answer. The success of the trio, the confirmation in their safe exit, or the horrible news of their failure.

“Echo!”

Midnight’s frantic voice through the comms has his heart stopping. What’s happened? She sounds so scared. Maker, why had he sent her on this mission? Why didn’t he keep her close where he could watch her? It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Echo. It was the uncertainty of this mission that had him questioning everything.

The entire 141st shifts uneasily. Something shifts in the bushes behind him, Hunter’s sensitive ears picking up on the sound. His hand lowers towards his blaster as the sound gets louder and louder.

There’s lots of movement in the bushes around them.

“It’s a trap!” Midnight’s voice has the entire battalion pausing, Hunter’s breath catching in his throat. “It’s a-”

The silence after the cutoff rings loud, seconds before chaos erupts around them.

“Commando droids!”

****

Midnight startles awake, inhaling sharply. Her eyes dart around frantically, hands closing around the thin sheet. She jumps as a hand touches her shoulder, blinking to try and clear her vision as a face leans in close to her.

“Easy, cyare.” The gruff voice begins to drag her out of her confused state, vision clearing to reveal a familiar tattooed face leaned in towards her. “You’re alright.”

“Hunter?” She rasps out, wincing at the dryness of her throat. Hunter holds a cup to her lips, cool water hitting her tongue. She drinks greedily, soothing her dry throat. “W-Where...” She tries to speak, but she feels like her brain is moving in slow motion.

“A med station.” Hunter answers, already guessing what her question was. “The 212th was called in for backup. They brought us here, with the other survivors.”

She blinks at him. “Wh..what?”

“Don’t worry, we’re all fine.” He says, leaning his arms on the side of the cot. “I can’t say the same for the 141st, though.”

Memories slowly swirl back into her mind, tears brimming in her eyes. It had all gone wrong, all of it. Her hand presses against her chest, still feeling the phantom pain, the horrible pressure. She’d been so sure she was going to die. She had thought they all were going to die.

“Echo?” She asks, trying to distract herself. She wants to reach out, wants to take his hand, but they’re not alone.

“He’s getting checked over by the bio engineers.” Hunter says. “Making sure none of his cybernetics were damaged. Last I heard, though, he’ll be fine. Tech’s with him.” Hunter stares at her for a moment, dark eyes shining in the bright light of the room. “They’ll want to know what happened. I’ve already spoken to them, as did Commander Ghost, but they’ll want to speak to you too.”

Midnight swallows thickly, tears sliding down her cheeks. She doesn't want to talk about it. She doesn’t want to remember.

Hunter ignores the fact they’re not alone, ignores the possible repercussions if anyone saw, if anyone assumed anything, as he cups her cheek gently wiping her tears with his thumb. “I’ll be right beside you. Commander Cody will be there as well.”

Midnight closes her eyes, leaning into his touch. She wasn’t scared of speaking to the Generals. What she had seen in the few times they’d been on missions partnered with the Jedi, they were all very understanding, patient, nice. She’s more afraid of having to relive it all again.

“Night,” Hunter says, tracing her face with his thumb. “What happened in there?”

*****A Few Hours Ago*****

It’s eerily quiet.

It had been quiet since they first made it over the ridge. Crossing the barren expanse between the treeline and the base had been the most nerve wracking. There was little cover, and the risk of them being spotted was high.

“You’re brave for doing this.” General Coltil’s Padawan, Zaid, says as they duck behind a rock.

Midnight glances down at him. He’s young, no older than fifteen or sixteen. Just a child stuck in a war. Midnight doesn’t know much about Jedi, but it doesn’t seem right. Or maybe she just had a soft spot for kids that were forced to grow up too fast. “I’m not sure if brave is the right word for it. Crazy, maybe. I mean, I did voluntarily sign up for this.”

“All clear.” Echo says, the three of them moving forward.

Midnight can see the front entrance now, guarded by two droids. Something doesn’t feel right as they make their way around to the side of the base. Two droids to guard the entrance? Sure, it could have been a tactic, making the base seem like it’s not well guarded when there’s really an entire battalion inside. If that’s true, though, that was not going to spell good for them.

Echo makes quick work of the grate, leading them into the garbage compactor. She’s not excited about having to wade through trash, but if it gets them inside faster, and the mission over with faster, then she’ll hold her complaints.

They make their way across the massive heaps of garbage. Thankfully it’s all mostly metal, components of broken down droids and who knows what else. Tech would have had a field day, spouting off all the different things they were stepping on.

The door on the other side opens to the lower levels. It was a matter of sneaking their way up three floors to where they’d find a control room to download what they needed. They had to do that without being seen, or at least without raising any alarms.

It’s quiet as they make their way to the elevator. They slip inside, holding their breath as the doors close.

“It’s too quiet.” Midnight says. “I don’t like this.”

“She’s right.” Zaid says. “Something feels off.”

“The quicker we can get the data, the better.” Echo says.

The elevator slows to a stop, all three of them holding their breath as the doors open, half expecting to come face to face with droids. Yet, there’s nothing but an empty hallway in front of them. Echo peeks his head out, checking both ways before signaling them to move.

“We’re inside.” Echo says into his comm as they pause at a corner.

“Good.” General Coltil’s voice comes over the comms. “How many droids have you seen?”

“Hardly any.” Midnight answers as they begin moving again. “Maybe two at the front door. None since then.”

They pause at another corner, Echo checking for any droids. “The control room should be just up ahead.”

“The sooner we can get out of here, the better.” Zaid says, having taken up the rear behind Midnight.

They creep up the hallway, Echo locating the door they need. Echo uses his scomp arm to open it, Midnight scanning the room, finding it empty. Something nags at the back of her head as they enter, the door sliding closed behind them.

“This feels too easy.” She says, looking around the room.

“Uploading the data now.” Echo says, sticking his arm into the scomp link.

Midnight steps closer to a panel on the wall, narrowing her eyes. It seems out of place. Too new for a place like this. Her hand drops to her blaster, fingers curling around the hilt.

That’s when everything goes wrong.

The sound of an electric pulse has her spinning around, Echo’s body jolting before going limp and falling onto the floor.

“Echo!” She cries, rushing to his side. He’s out cold, Midnight terrified he’s dead.

The panel she had been staring out slides up, battle droids filing out. Midnight begins firing, Zaid using his lightsaber to slice through them.

“It’s a trap!” She yells over the comms. “It’s a trap!” The main door opens, more battle droids entering. Her suspicions had been correct. It had been too easy, on purpose.

“We need to go.” Zaid says as they finish off the last of the droids. Alarms are sounding, the familiar clank of metal feet getting closer.

Midnight heaves Echo’s body into a seated position, wrapping one of his arms around her shoulders. “Get yourself to safety.” She says to Zaid. “Use the vents. I can’t leave him behind.” She should. She’s not sure if he’s dead, but he is dead weight that neither of them could carry alone.

Zaid debates the suggestion for a moment before slinging Echo’s other arm around his shoulders, both of them lifting him to his feet. They drag him between them, making their way back to the hallway. If they can get to the elevator, then they can get back down to the garbage compactor and find a way out before they’re swarmed by droids.

Of course, that would work if there weren’t droids swarming the hallways.

“Come on.” Zaid says, leading them in the opposite direction.

They had all seen the layout of the base, spent time studying it. Of course now, with the adrenaline coursing through her system, Midnight can hardly tell up from down. She shoots droids with her left hand, the other trying to keep Echo steady as they drag him through the hallway. They might have been able to make it without him, but Midnight wasn’t going to leave him. Not again.

“This way.” Zaid says, directing them down a hallway, blocking blaster bolts with his lightsaber. The weapon had intimidated Midnight a bit, but she’s glad to have someone capable of wielding one with her now.

They make another turn, both of them stopping dead. Midnight’s blood runs cold, her pulse echoing in her ears. This is it. This is how she’s going to die.

“Ah, how disappointing.” The modulated voice grates on her ears, spiking her fear higher. She adjusts the grip on her blaster, despite knowing it’s not going to help her. Not in this situation.

“General Grievous.” Zaid says, adjusting his grip on his lightsaber. He turns to her, letting Echo’s arm slip from his shoulders. Midnight buckles a bit under the weight, but she forces herself to stay standing. “Get out of here.”

“What?” Midnight stares in disbelief as the padawan steps closer to the cyborg.

Midnight had learned about General Grievous during her training. She’d learned about all of the commanding officers in the Separatist forces. Despite her many missions with the boys, this is the first time Midnight has come face to face with one of the higher ranking members of the Separatists.

Of course it would be the trained Jedi-killer.

Midnight adjusts her grip on Echo, turning and firing at the droids coming at them from the back. She knows Zaid isn’t going to win this fight. Grievous with four lightsabers against his just one? She’s no expert in dueling with lightsabers, but her knowledge of fighting tells her the odds aren’t good. She can’t just leave him, but she knows it will be her death too, and Echo’s.

She takes out the droids at their back, her eyes spotting something along the wall. A garbage chute. She forces her body forward, dragging Echo along the floor. She pries the cover off, letting it hit the floor with a clang. She pushes Echo, shoving him inside, watching him disappear down the chute. She just hopes it leads to where they’d come in, or somewhere close to it.

She turns her head, catching the moment Grievous drives two of his lightsabers through Zaid’s chest. She’s yelling before she even realizes it, her heart clenching. He was just a boy. A boy who had given his life for them to escape. She should take it, she should jump into the chute while she still has a chance.

Instead she draws her blaster, firing at Grievous. He blocks the shots easily, laughing at her. It only fuels her anger more, drawing her away from her once chance at escaping.

“Foolish girl.” Grievous laughs, swiping at her with two of his lightsabers.

Midnight ducks almost too late, managing to tuck and roll behind him. She fires at him, but it does little against him. She barely dodges another hit from the lightsabers, taking a hit from his arm instead. It sends her flying back into the wall, stunning her.

So this is how she dies. Foolishly fighting an opponent that was far more than she could handle. Hunter would be disappointed in her. At least this way, she’d died doing everything she could. It was always a risk. She’d known that from the beginning.

The air is forced from her lungs as Grievous’ foot comes down onto her chest. His clawed toes press into her skin, her hands trying to relieve some of the pressure, even though it’s no use. She desperately tries to take in a breath as the pressure intensifies, Grievous slowly adding more and more pressure. He was going to crush her to death.

What an awful way to die.

She stares up at those yellow eyes, refusing to look away. She wanted his face engrained in her memory before she died. The thing that finally killed her. He wouldn’t remember her. She was just another faceless casualty.

His gaze leaves hers, drawn somewhere behind her. She hears the buzz of a lightsaber igniting through the intense pulsing in her ears. He’s going to kill her. The pressure is almost too much, her chest practically creaking at the strain. Her hand reaches to her side, fingers wrapping around the hilt of a knife. The one Hunter had given her.

If she can get his foot off of her, all she has to do is roll to the side and pull herself into the chute. Her hand grips the knife, fingers finding a gap in his leg before she drives the knife into it. The cyborg lets out a cry, the pressure leaving her chest instantly. She inhales sharply for a second, adrenaline pumping as she drags herself into the chute, sliding headfirst away from the fight that was about to happen.

She drops from the chute, landing on her back. It knocks the air from her again, her chest spasming painfully. Blood rushing into her throat, choking her. She can’t cough, her chest throbbing as she tries to breathe and tries to expel the blood blocking her airway.

She pushes herself onto her side, finally forcing the blood up. It splatters across the metal garbage, painting the droid parts in red dots. It’s rather symbolic. The Republic should use that in their propaganda, she thinks. The truth of this war. The things no one saw unless they were in it.

She digs the commlink out of her belt, lifting it with a shaky hand. “Hunter?” She asks, voice weak and hardly more than a rasp.

Silence.

She tries again, tears pricking her eyes. She’s not sure she can move. She knows she can’t carry Echo, not on her own, not in this state.

There’s nothing but silence on the other end. She curses, throwing the comm in frustration. A quiet groan in the quiet of the garbage compactor has her perking up a bit.

“Echo?” She breathes, voice hardly more than a squeak. Her chest feels heavy, every breath laborious.

An answering groan has her pushing herself up to sit. The pain is almost blinding, but her desperation is stronger. Echo had rolled from the top of the pile when he’d fallen, landing in a valley between piles. Midnight slides down, coming to a stop right against him. Another groan leaves him, his flesh hand moving just slightly.

He’s alive.

Midnight breathes as much of a sigh of relief as she can, shaky hands digging through the pouches on his belt. She knows he has to have one. They all usually carried one, all except her.

She nearly cries as her fingers wrap around the small tube. She pulls it from his pouch, sucking in a deep breath before injecting the stim shot into her neck. Immediately she feels the effects, the pain numbing to nothing. Her head clears, the shake in her hands subsiding. She feels energized, more than she had before they started this mission.

“Come on.” She wraps an arm around Echo’s shoulders, pulling him to his feet. “I need you to help me.

Slowly they begin making their way towards the exit. She knows it’s only a matter of time before droids break down the door and begin searching for them. She’d rather take a risk outside than die in a garbage compactor. She wants to die staring at the sky.

She knows she’s dying. She can still taste blood, feel the drip of it sliding down her chin. Every breath is labored, even if she can’t feel the pain of it. She wasn’t going to let Echo die here either. He’d been through that once already. She’ll be damned if it happens again.

Midnight gets them through the grate, forcing her way through with her blaster. She drags Echo through, collapsing to the side for a moment. She wishes she still had her comm. She might have been able to reach Hunter, or someone, now. Of course, if they had planned a trap inside, then there had to be one outside as well. They could be dead for all she knew.

Midnight forces herself up, lifting Echo up as well. He’s come around a bit more, taking slow steps with her. She can feel the stim shot beginning to wear off as they make their way through the clearing. She doesn't care about stealth now. They were so far beyond that.

Her knees buckle before she can reach the ridge, dropping her and Echo to the ground. She lays flat on her back, feeling the blood pooling once more in her mouth. At least she’d get her wish. At least she was going to die staring up at the sky.

*****

Midnight fights the emotions welling in her chest as she finishes telling her side of the story. She feels comforted by Hunter’s presence beside her, even if she can’t seek comfort in him like she wants to.

“It was a well-laid trap and we walked right into it.” Hunter says, thankfully drawing the attention away from her for a moment so she can collect herself.

“Someone else must have laid it.” General Kenobi says. “It’s not Grievous’ style. We can’t even be sure there was useful data stored there to begin with.”

“Echo did manage to get some data before the system was wiped.” Cody says. “It’s being analyzed now.”

“You did well.” General Kenobi says, turning his attention back to Midnight. “Managing to survive something like that is impressive, and managing to save someone else along the way.”

“But I couldn’t save everyone.” Midnight says, unable to get the image of Zaid with the lightsabers sticking through his back out of her mind.

“Grievous has killed many well-trained, highly skilled Jedi. To survive an encounter with him is no small feat.” General Kenobi puts a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t feel guilty about something you couldn’t have prevented. You did good, even if it was all a trap.”

Midnight feels herself relaxing, like a blanket of calm has been wrapped around her shoulders. She nods her head, General Kenobi giving her a small smile before leaving the room.

“You had us worried for a moment.” Cody says, stepping up to her. “But I’m glad you’re alright. Get some rest, both of you, while you can. I don’t doubt you’ll be sent on another mission soon.”

Midnight deflates a bit at his words. Of course they would be. It is all they’re good for.

*******

The Marauder is quiet. It usually is after missions, but it’s usually an exhausted quiet. This is something else. Something different.

Tech is in his usual place in the pilot’s seat, staring out into the blue of hyperspace. Wrecker is tucked in his bunk, Lula squeezed tight to his chest as he stares at the bunk above him. Even Crosshair is unusually still, glaring into a cup of caf in the hull. Echo’s in his own bunk, eyes closed but he’s not sleeping.

Hunter is standing in front of Midnight’s door.

They haven’t seen much of her since they landed at the medical station.

Hunter had been terrified. The commando droids had come out of nowhere, and an entire battalion of droids had appeared from the base. He knew his squad could handle themselves, and they had the 141st backing them, but for all he had known, Midnight had been on her own inside. If there had been that many droids coming at them from outside, how many had been inside?

He had sent her and Echo to their deaths. He had just known it.

It had been General Coltil’s immediate distress call that had saved them in the end. The 212th had been one jump away and had arrived quickly, but not quickly enough to save them all. They had been greatly outnumbered, and with the element of surprise, the droid army had wiped out most of the 141st, including its general.

In its aftermath, he had been scouring the plains between them and the base, looking for any sign of Midnight. The comms had gone dark, the signal blocked by the base until General Coltil and the troopers he’d taken in had shut off the jammers.

Of course, none of them had come out.

Hunter had paced restlessly, Crosshair watching the base carefully, looking for any sign of movement. He had been on edge, terrified by the thoughts running through his head. Midnight and Echo were gone. There was no way they had survived.

Until Crosshair had alerted them to the figures slowly making their way across the plains. He had almost taken off running, and Cody had looked like he wanted to as well, but the 212th medics had been faster, using a landspeeder to reach them.

He’ll never forget what he saw when they got back to the transport ships. Midnight was still conscious, her breaths were harsh gasps and rattling horribly. They had put a breath mask on her, and it was splattered with blood inside.

She had said something to the medics before she’d been put under. Echo had been electrocuted by the scomp link. He was barely awake, but moving. Midnight had half carried him most of the way out of the base. He’d learn later she’d used his stim shot to make it.

Hunter had stayed by her side as long as he could. He had wanted to hold her, to take her hand, to make sure she really was there, rules be damned. He knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t put them at risk like that. He couldn’t lose her so soon after almost losing her on the mission.

Thankfully his concern had been taken as nothing more than concern for his squad-mate. Cody had been concerned as well, to the point he felt partially responsible. He had put her on the squad to begin with. Thankfully Cody had enough to worry about that he could distract himself. Hunter had been forced to sit and suffer through his thoughts.

He had gone to see her as soon as he could, at the urging of his other squad mates. He was the most level-headed of them all, and was the least likely to betray his feelings, except maybe Crosshair. Crosshair showing concern for anyone would have raised too many questions. Tech had been more than willing to stay with Echo, letting his curiosity distract him from the worry about Midnight.

Hunter had stayed by her side as she slept off the sedatives. She’d spent a few hours in a bacta tank, coming out mostly healed. It had been torture, sitting in the medical station, but he wasn’t going to leave Midnight to wake up by herself. Not after what had just happened.

After she had been cleared by the medic and had told General Kenobi what had happened, she had briefly gone to see the rest of the squad before she’d left for the civilian bunks to rest. The rest of them had opted to bunk on the ship, preferable to bunking with the regs even if it was just for a night.

The last time he’d seen Midnight had been when she’d boarded the ship as they were getting ready to leave. She had immediately shut herself in her room, and hadn’t come out since. She had slept for a while, Hunter listening to the quiet, even breaths. Far better than the horrible rattling gasps he’d heard.

Then she’d cried.

It was muffled, like she was trying to do it quietly, but he had heard. He may not have, if he hadn’t been paying attention, but he’d been focusing on her since they departed the medical station. Even though she had been completely cleared, he was still worried. Her injuries had been substantial. How she had managed to make it that far, and carry Echo, was astounding. Even with the stim shot, she shouldn’t have been standing.

Now it was silent. No muffled cries, but she’s not asleep. He can tell by the rate of her breaths, the slightly faster beat of her heart. He can’t hear anything else. He wonders what she’s doing.

“Are you going to talk to her, or just stand there and stare a hole through the door?”

Hunter turns his head, frowning a bit at Crosshair. He wants to say something, but his mind is too frazzled. His shoulders fall, his gaze turning back to the door. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Crosshair steps closer, putting a hand on his shoulder. “For someone with sharpened senses, you can be very dull. Sometimes the best thing to say is nothing at all. She’ll tell you what she needs. You just have to pay attention.”

Crosshair moves past him, heading for his bunk. Hunter watches him before sighing, looking back at the door. He had a point. Midnight did have a way of saying everything without uttering a word. Maybe he should listen instead of trying to talk.

He presses the button to open the door, stepping inside. He had considered knocking, but he’s not sure she would have answered. She’s sitting on her bed, leaning against the wall. Her knees are pulled to her chest as she stares at the wall across from her. He makes his way over, sitting on the bed beside her. He doesn’t say anything, not wanting to jump into the wrong thing. Instead he sits with her in silence, wanting her to be the one to talk first.

“I couldn’t save him.” She says, voice hoarse from crying. “I-I couldn’t do anything. He was just a kid!” She shakes her head, a tear sliding down her cheek. “I knew it didn’t feel right. I knew something was wrong. I should have pushed to turn back. We shouldn’t have continued.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Hunter says, wanting to reach out to her, but he’s not sure he should. “I shouldn’t have sent you in like that. Not with such a high risk.”

She sniffles. “It’s our job though, right? We do the hard stuff no one else wants to.” She shakes her head. “All of those clones, General Coltil and Zaid, all dead because I didn’t say anything until it was too late.”

“Hey,” Hunter reaches out, gently turning her face towards him. “I didn’t even know until it was too late. There was a lot that could have gone differently. We can’t change it, though. You did everything you could. Echo is still alive because of you. It may not mean much to the Republic, we might not mean much to the Republic, but it means a lot to us.”

“I couldn’t leave him.” She says, looking at him with shining eyes. He can hear the rapid thump of her heart in her chest. He’s glad to hear it. “Not like that. If I hadn’t...”

“Don’t.” Hunter cuts her off. “You don’t know that. I wouldn’t have left any of you. I wanted to go in there, track you down, get you out. I would have fought through the Republic and a droid army if I’d had to. Rules be damned. You’re worth far more than to leave behind like that.”

“I couldn’t ask you to defect for me.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not asking your permission.” Hunter moves his hand, cupping the back of her neck. “I’d do it in a heartbeat. We all would. We were all ready to.” He pulls her against his chest, letting her relax into him. He’s glad he removed his armor, letting her hear his own heartbeat. “I think you need a break.”

“What?” She tries to pull away but he keeps her in place.

“I’ve put you on leave for the next mission. You need to recover.”

“I have recovered.” She says, pushing against his hand until he relents, letting her sit up.

“Your body has,” Hunter keeps his arm around her, her hand still pressed against his chest. “But I don’t want you freezing in the middle of a battlefield.” He pulls her back into his chest. “I know you’re tired. I can tell. Every mission it’s getting harder and harder for you. I don’t know where we’re going yet, but I want you and Echo to sit the next one out.”

“Is that an order?” She asks, tilting her head to stare up at him.

“I can make it one.” He wraps his arm around her tighter. “I just don’t want something to happen to you after what you just went through.”

Her hand fists into the fabric of his blacks, the saltiness of tears stinging his nose. “I know it’s supposed to be our job. I know it’s not supposed to get to us, but I can’t help it. He just...he died right in front of me. He was just a kid!”

Hunter holds her tighter, trying his best to comfort her. “I know. It gets to all of us sometimes. Whatever you need, I’m right here. We all are.”

She sniffles, tucking herself tighter against his chest. “Just...don’t leave. Not yet.”

He leans down, kissing the top of her head. “Never.”

********

“It will be a quick in and out, nothing more than a small insurrection.” Hunter says. “Nothing the four of us can’t handle.”

“Still...be careful.” Midnight says, leaning against the wall next to the bunks as they get ready.

“We should be back in two days. If we’re not, you can send out a distress signal.” Hunter puts a hand on her shoulder. “Stay on the ship. Both of you.”

Midnight nods, already knowing she can’t argue with him. Still, she worried a lot about them going off on their own. What if something did happen? It could happen so easily, so fast, she’d never know until it was too late.

It made sense why Hunter wanted her staying behind for this mission. She can already feel the panic beginning to bubble.

“Don’t worry about us, cyare.” Wrecker says, bending down so they’re face to face. “We’re tougher than we look.”

Midnight smiles a bit, cupping his face. “I know. I still worry.”

She leans in to kiss his cheek, but he turns at the last second so the kiss lands on his lips instead.

“Cheater.” She murmurs as he pulls away, letting out a triumphant laugh.

Midnight watches them go until they’re out of sight, closing the hatch and locking the ship. She stands still for a moment, nervously wringing her fingers for a moment. She’s on edge, being left behind on this mission, but at the same time she’s glad. She liked to think she’d be fine, she wouldn’t freeze as soon as someone pointed a blaster at her face. She knows that’s not the case, though.

She heads back to her room, pausing for a moment to stare at Echo’s bunk. It’s empty. He had hardly left it since they took off from the medical station, or at least that’s what Hunter had said.

She hasn’t spoken to Echo since their brief reunion on the medical station. She hadn’t meant to leave so abruptly after, but she’d wanted to take advantage of the civilian’s quarters and a semi-real bed. That, and she hadn’t been sure she could stand being close to them so soon. She knew they’d hover, she knew they’d worry. She had just wanted space.

She can’t even imagine what Echo’s feeling. To have gone through what he did, and then going through something like this...

She heads for the hull, finding him sitting at the table. He’s hunched over, back to the door. She debates leaving, giving him more space. She doesn’t know if he wants to see her, or if he even wants to talk about it. She hadn’t wanted to, not until Hunter forced his way in. She does feel better, but at the same time, she knows she'll carry that guilt for a long time.

She decides to move forward, taking slow, quiet steps. “Hey,” she says quietly, alerting him of her presence. He glances up as she moves to sit across from him. “How are you?”

“Fine.” He answers, nodding his head like he’s trying to convince himself.

She nods, unsure of what to say. What did one say in this situation? She had almost died trying to save him, she had gotten others killed trying to save him. As much as everyone tried to convince her otherwise, she knows it's the truth.

“It was stupid, you know.” He says, staring back down at his empty cup. “Trying to fight someone like Grievous with nothing but a blaster and a knife, and for what? For me?”

“It wasn’t just for you.” She murmurs, dropping her gaze like a scolded child. She’s never seen this side of Echo, at least not directed at her.

“You shouldn’t have done it. You shouldn’t have almost died for someone like...”

“What? Someone like you?” She cuts him off, looking up at him with brows furrowed. “You think you’re not worth it too?”

“Not when there were other lives involved too.”

“I made the decision.” She says, feeling anger bubble up in her. “There’s nothing anyone can do about it now. Would things have gone differently if I had left you behind, I don’t know. I chose to take the risk because I couldn’t leave you. You are worth it. I’m not the only one that thinks so.”

Echo’s shoulders deflate, his face softening a bit. She knows her words are getting to him. It’s the truth. She would have taken the risk regardless of the situation. She’d always take the risk, no matter who it was.

“You’re worth it to me.” She thinks back to Hunter’s words during their conversation. “Even if we wound up running from the Republic as defectors. At least I’d be with the men I love.”

Echo meets her gaze, his eyes shining. “Thank you. For not leaving me behind.”

Midnight reaches forward, taking his flesh hand. “I couldn’t leave you like that. Not after everything. I think I’m starting to understand why the Jedi aren’t allowed to have attachments.”

“Good thing you aren’t one, then.” The corner Echo’s lips lifts in a smile.

“I’m already a terrible soldier. I’d make an even worse Jedi.”

Echo laughs, his thumb tracing her knuckles before his hand shifts, grabbing her forearm. He tugs her forward out of her seat so she’s bent over the table, leaning forward to kiss her.

She gasps against his lips, surprised by the sudden, bold move. “Echo...”

He shushes her, pressing their foreheads together. “We almost died before I got a chance to experience this.” He kisses her again. “Let me thank you for saving my life.

Midnight stares into his eyes, captivated by their depth for a moment. She’s never seen this side of Echo before either. She nods, pushing herself up onto the table.

Echo wraps his arm around her, pulling her so she’s on her knees, pressed against his chest. His flesh hand slides down her back as he kisses her, grabbing a handful of her ass. She moans into his mouth, trying to press even closer to him.

“You’re so kriffing beautiful,” He says, nipping at her bottom lip. “Back when I was a reg, I wouldn’t have hesitated.”

Midnight giggles, shifting so she’s sitting on the table. “Well, depending on how well you could shoot your shot, I might have agreed. Of course, it would have had to have been before I fell in love with and fucked my squad.”

“Do you know how much trouble we’d be in if anyone found out?” He says, pressing her back against the table.

“Immediate termination of my contract.” She says, wrapping her arms around him. “And they’d probably find some reason to throw me in prison.”

“The rest of us would be decommissioned.” He says, kissing along her throat. “We’d be lucky to end up as janitors.”

She giggles, pulling his face back to hers. “Then we’ll just have to never get caught.”

He kisses her hard, pressing his body closer against hers. She’s so soft under him, so pliable. Everything he’s not. He pushes those thoughts aside as she moans softly against his lips, pressing even closer against him. She’d told him many times she doesn’t care about his looks, his cybernetics, the hard edges of metal that dug into her supple skin every time he was close to her.

He leans on his scomp arm, his flesh hand trailing down her side. “I want to see you.”

She’s breathing hard, chest heaving. Her lips are parted and kiss-swollen. “Uh huh.” She nods, hands tugging at her pants. He helps her, tossing her pants and underwear behind him on the floor.

He traces his hand over her hip, staring down at her. He’s never seen her naked before. He’d seen her in various states of undress sneaking back and forth from bunks to her room, or to the fresher. This, though, is a new sight to him.

“Echo?” She asks, leaning up on her elbows. She looks nervous at his hesitation, legs starting to press closed.

“Don’t.” He puts a hand on her inner thigh, stopping her. “You’re just so beautiful. Can’t believe you’d ever go for a guy like me.”

“Oh Echo.” She pushes herself up to sit, cupping his cheek. “I don’t really care what you look like. That’s not why I fell in love with you. Or any of you boys, for that matter. Looks are just an added bonus. Though, I guess you could say I have a type, since you’re all technically clones.”

Echo pushes her back onto the table, putting a finger to her lips. “Stop talking.”

She nods, swallowing thickly.

He slides his hands down to her legs, parting them once more. He holds them open as he kneels between them, bringing himself to eye-level with her. He runs his fingers through her slick folds, her breath hitching. He circles her clit with his thumb slowly, watching the way her chest lifts as she arches her back.

He does love her tits.

He presses a finger into her, her body opening for him. She’s wet and tight, a quiet groan leaving his lips. He stands up, pumping his finger slowly. Her lips are parted, hands over her head gripping the edge of the table.

“Kriff, Echo!” She moans, eyes fluttering closed as he curls his finger inside her, his palm brushing her clit as he stands over her. “You’ve done this before.”

“Once or twice on leave,” He says. “Back when I was a reg. None of them measure up to you, though. They wouldn’t look twice at me now.”

Her hand closes around his scomp arm, pulling him down closer. She kisses him, her hand sliding around the back of his neck. She whines against his lips as he slips a second finger into her, hips pressing against his hand.

“Echo...” She moans against his lips, her other hand closing around his wrist. “Don’t stop.”

He curls his fingers again, her back arching as a loud moan leaves her lips. He had overheard the others talking about her, about how beautiful she is when she’s lost in pleasure. To see it is something else entirely.

“I’m close,” She whines, grinding her hips against his hand. “I’m gonna cum.”

He continues for just a second longer before pulling his fingers from her. She whines in protest, eyes snapping open. “Not yet.” He says. “I’ve got something I want to try first.”

He slips an arm around her, lifting her into his arms. He carries her to her room, depositing her on the bed. He reaches down, pulling a box out from underneath.

She stares at him, mouth agape. “How long has that been under there?”

“A while.” He smirks.

A horrified look crosses her face. “What else is under there?”

He pushes her back so she’s laying on the bed before opening the box, pulling the device out.

Her mouth opens once more, pussy clenching at the memories of the many test phases she’d gone through. “Oh.”

“I’ve been wanting to try it out for a while.” He says, opening a panel on his cybernetics. “Just haven’t had the right moment.” He snaps it into place, feeling it warm in his hand.

Midnight sits up, staring at it. “So this is what you two were doing when you disappeared for a while.”

“Yeah.” Echo inhales shakily as her fingers run over it. “Took a little longer than we thought it would.”

She gently pushes him, rearranging them so he’s laying flat on her bed. She kneels between his legs, closing her hand around it. He groans quietly, eyes lidded as he stares at her. “Can you feel that?”

He nods. “Tech made it so it connects to my nervous system.”

Midnight bites her lip, pumping her hand a couple times. “I do love that nerd.” She climbs off the bed, digging through her box to find the lube, thankfully back in its place. “You’re sure about this?”

He nods, groaning as she spreads lube over the device. “Yes. I want to feel you.”

“Then who am I to deny you?” She smirks, straddling his waist.

She lines herself up, slowly pushing herself down on the device. She rocks her hips, slowly working more and more of it into her. She moans quietly at the stretch of it, legs shaking as she finally seats herself against his hips.

She curses, pausing for a moment. “How does it feel?”

“Just like I imagined.” He says, holding her thigh with his hand.

She shifts slightly, cursing as it shifts inside her. She peels her shirt and breastband off, letting them fall to the floor. Echo’s eyes immediately fall to her breasts, watching them as she slowly begins to move her hips.

She grabs his hand, placing it on one of her breasts. “I think we’re a little past needing permission.”

He holds his hand there, feeling her breast as she begins rocking her hips faster. It’s not the first time he’s felt them. He’s used them as a pillow a few times. It is the first time he’s seen them though. Her own hand lifts to her other breast, fingers tugging at her nipple. He does the same on the other side, teasing her nipple as she rides him.

“Yes, just like that.” She moans, using her other hand to brace herself on his stomach.

He can feel the pleasure coursing through his body. The warmth of her, every squeeze around him sends pleasure spiking through his cybernetics. His eyes roll back, his hand squeezing tighter around her breast.

“Maker, Echo!” She cries, hips stuttering. “I’m gonna cum!”

He wants to feel her cum. He needs to feel her cum. He drops his hand from her breast to rub her clit, her head falling back as she cums with a cry. He lets out a cry of his own as she spasms around him, his own orgasm rocking through him.

She slips off him before she collapses against his chest, breathing heavily. He wraps his arm around her, breathing equally labored. They lay in silence for a few moments, both of them coming down from their highs.

“Remind me to thank Tech later.” Echo says, lips brushing her forehead.

“I’m gonna suck the genius out of his dick.” Midnight murmurs.

Echo makes a face, desperately fighting the mental images. “Was that...good?”

Midnight lifts her head, smiling sleepily at him. “Consider me satisfied.”

“Good.” He kisses her forehead again. “We should probably clean the table.”

She hums. “We have time.” She snuggles closer against his chest. “Besides, Tech will clean it when they get back anyway, just in case.”

*****

Hunter sits in the pilot’s seat, eyes trailing over the five other members of his squad. They’re all tired. Putting an end to the insurrection hadn’t taken long, but he can tell they’re all beginning to feel it. Something shifting in the war, something building. They’re coming close to something. He can see it on all of their faces, even without his enhanced abilities. The strain of the mission before this one, almost losing Midnight and Echo, had taken its toll. He wishes he could give them time to rest.

“We’ve already received our next orders.” He says, breaking the silence of the hull. All eyes are on him, waiting. He ignores the exhausted stares, the dark circles. “We’re heading for Kaller straight away. General Billaba has requested urgent reinforcements. Get some rest while you can.” He glances to the back of the cockpit where Midnight and Echo are standing. “All of us will be going. We’ll need all the help we can get.”

Taglist:

@lo0nylexi, @amyroswell, @dangraccoon, @hunnythebee, @lokigirlszendaya, @kriffingmeshla, @storm-breaker7

#star wars #star wars fic #the bad batch #the bad batch fic #the bad batch x reader #poly bad batch #echo x reader #angst #bad batch smut #echo smut

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