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azrielhours · 1 month

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Tight Enough

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Synopsis: Reader needs help tightening her corset and no one's around to help but Azriel.

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“Shit,” you breathed, pulling at the laces awkwardly around your waist, trying and failing to tighten your corset. You shifted them around your shoulders, hoping it’d provide sufficient pulleying. You bowed forward, yanking.

Still not enough.

You huffed. You’d been at this for upwards of twenty minutes, hauling and tugging in all kinds of positions til your hands shook.

For all the gentlemanliness and compassion in Rhys and Cassian, you entirely refused to ask mated men to assist you.

Tying the laces onto the doorknob, you tried letting your body fall in the opposite direction. Your feet slid against the tile as you pivoted, nearly tripping. “Shit.”

This was so fucked.

A gentle knock on the door startled you. “Y/N?”

Azriel.

Fuck.

You scrambled to untie the laces from the doorknob. “Yes?”

“Cass and Rhys stepped out for a bit. Are you alright?”

Fuck.

You scrubbed at your face. This was the outcome you’d been avoiding above all. Worse than the mated men. Mated my ass. You should’ve bit your tongue and asked Cass for help.

“Y/N?” he asked again at your silence.

“Sorry,” you breathed, heart racing.

You cracked open the bathroom door, peering up at him. He searched your eyes patiently as you searched for your courage. “I can’t get my corset on,” you admitted quietly.

A muscle ticked in his jaw, eyes marginally widening.

You shook your head. “It’s fine,” you said quickly, voice tight. “I’ll just—I’ll try—”

“I can help,” he offered softly.

You looked up at him again, eyes pleading. Turn him down. “I—” you swallowed. Turn him down. A glance at the wall behind him with a clock revealed you were even later than you thought. Turn him down. You bit your lip and steeled your spine. Fuck. You were really doing this. “Okay,” you whispered, like you could hide the admission from even yourself.

He gave a slight nod of encouragement, stepping aside to let you come out.

“I—let me—one second,” you stammered, closing the door.

You were still undressed.

Right.

Another huff of indignation as you yanked on a slip to cover your bare legs. This was fine, right? It was just help he was offering. Necessary help.

You took a steadying breath and walked out of the bathroom.

Azriel had moved to stand near the fireplace, watching it with his back to you, like it would offer you privacy. He could surely see your panicked mortification.

You padded to him, placing a hand softly on his elbow to let him know you were ready.

He turned, face carefully neutral as he took in the sight of you.

Where corsets were typically worn over shifts, this one was fashioned to sit directly upon your skin. So you stood before Azriel, flushed cheeks and fidgeting fingers in just your corset and a skirt.

Azriel focused his gaze strictly on your face, didn’t dare let it fall to where the flesh of your breasts generously spilled over the delicate lace trim adorning the hem. Didn’t allow a glance at the thin shift mercifully—barely—covering your legs.

He’d never seen you so undressed.

You shifted your weight between feet beneath his hefty gaze. “Usually, Nuala or Ceridwen or Mor help me,” your voice was still tight. “I’ve never had to do it by myself.”

Azriel nodded. Your skin had a slight sheen to it in the light of the fire. A few pieces of hair had fallen out of your intricate upswept style, curling at the nape of your neck. Azriel might have bitten back a laugh at the endearing sight, at the physical evidence of your struggle—had you not struck him dumb with how beautiful you looked.

How you allowed him to bear witness to your exposed skin, to this intimacy.

He was no stranger to corsets—hell, he’d taken women wearing lingerie that made your attire look like a priestess’s robe, and yet—

He shook his head. This was just help. No matter how lovely you were.

He cleared his throat. He needed you to turn. “Would you—” He twisted a finger in the air, unsure how to ask.

“Oh,” you breathed, still donning that pretty blush on your cheeks. You took another step toward him, turning at last.

With the absence of your imploring gaze—one he’d scarcely forget—Azriel exhaled, allowed himself an assessing glimpse down your form presented before him. He bit back a curse. The laces across the length of the corset were haphazardly pulled. He wondered how Rhys overlooked something like this that clearly required assistance. The spaces between the undone laces revealed your bare back, curving all the way down to the slip resting on your backside.

He didn’t know how to begin touching you.

“Az?” you asked, voice still thin, your nervousness anything but subtle. But you’d been comfortable enough to ask him for help, and that made his heart soar.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat again. Raised his hands hesitantly; a silent deep breath, and he began.

He carefully pulled at the laces starting from the top of your corset, loosening them to correctly adjust their security. Azriel keenly tried his best to pick up each lace without touching your skin. Tried not to consider how creamy it felt when he did graze skin, how warm and perfect. When he’d finished working his way down, he began tugging at the string to tighten it properly.

At the first firm tug, you gasped, stumbling backwards into him. “Oh,” you stepped away hastily. You’d landed directly onto his abdomen, trapping his hands between your bodies. Your own hands had landed on his thighs, bracing yourself. “I’m sorry, Azriel.”

“It’s alright.” Azriel tried not to think about how your softness felt. “It’s my fault.” He couldn’t recall the last time he’d helped a female with her corset.

You looked at him over your shoulder, doing funny things to his heart again with your eyes. “We need a bedpost.” There was sheepish mirth lighting your eyes, displacing the anxiety from before. He managed a reassuring smile back and nodded.

You walked to Cassian’s bed in the inn room you were sharing, gripping the post for stability. Azriel dutifully returned to your back, and you tried not to think about how the warmth from his body radiated so easily into yours from your proximity. How careful he was being with his hands, doing everything to make you more comfortable.

He yanked gently in warning. When you remained sturdily in your spot, his pulling grew stronger, working his way down. When he neared the base of your spine, he began tying the lace. Your hands moved to your waist, feeling snug but not quite as tight-laced as you’d wanted.

You turned to peer at him over your shoulder again. He met your eye in question. “Um, I was hoping to wear it a little tighter,” you admitted.

“Tighter than this?” His brows rose.

You nodded.

He undid the knot, pulling the laces tighter as per your request, waiting for approval.

Once again, you caressed your waist, pushing the corset to feel its give.

“Is it tight enough?” he asked, voice gravely.

“Can I have one more inch?” you asked, and he internally composed himself.

“I don’t know if it would work,” he said.

“Here,” you released your waist, reaching behind, wiggling your fingers for his hands. Azriel extended his hands to hover on either side of your waist, allowing you to guide them on your waist. You pushed onto his hands, making him squeeze your waist. “Can you hold it there?” you asked.

Azriel swallowed, holding your waist tightly, pressing the corset tighter to your body as you reached behind, pulling the untied lace. He tracked your every move, every careful twist of your fingers, how your arms brushed against his hands. Your hands worked dangerously close to his body as you worked to secure the ties at last.

When you finished, he regretfully released you, allowing you to turn, standing between him and the bedpost. He braced himself for the onslaught of your stare, the way he knew you’d look up at him.

Where there’d previously been jittery nervousness, there was something in your eyes now that set his nervousness off. A sense of open depth that swallowed him whole as you took him in. “Thank you,” you breathed. A small smile tugged your lips up.

He wanted to admit something stupidly vulnerable, like thank you for trusting me. So instead, he took a step back, ducked his head, and said, “You’re welcome.”

That pretty, trustful look returned to your eyes, a look he’d do anything to keep others from seeing. “Maybe you can help me zip up my dress too?” Your playful glint had him smiling back.

“Of course.”

You hurried to the bathroom and rustled for a bit before returning to him with the top half of a floor-length, black evening gown hanging off your torso. You stood before him, more confidently than before, and Azriel took his time zipping it up, tucking away the corset. Tucking away the knowledge, the memory of it. It was all his to cherish.

As you put your heels on, a knock sounded on the door. Azriel opened it to find Rhys and Cassian conveniently ready to go, all smug smirks.

“Sorry for making us late,” you said, rushing up behind Azriel. “I had a hard time getting dressed.” Azriel stepped aside, allowing you to exit, taking Cassian’s arm.

Rhys mockingly tsked. “Sorry to hear that. How’d you manage?”

“Azriel helped,” you said over your shoulder.

“Well, thank goodness for Azriel,” Rhys winked at him.

Azriel stood stunned, staring in disbelief at Rhys until you looked back at him blushing, a shy smile knocking the breath from his lungs.

“Yes. Thank goodness for Azriel.”

taglist: @iimisty-a @feyretopia @riddlesb1tch @cullenswifezz222 @reiincarnatiion @sfhsgrad-blog @answer-the-sirens @mrstangerinejohnson @marigold-morelli @courtofjurdan @azriels-mate123 @emotionless-lover @marina468 @slvtherinseeker @owllover123 @banasheefan56 @nyotamalfoy @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @lilah-asteria

(lmk if your urls changed, sorry some of them don't work!)

#azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel/reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel spymaster #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azrielhours #azriel fluff

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eddiesxangel · 2 months

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You Look Tense |Masseuse!Eddie x f!reader

Cw: reader uses where/her pronouns, seduction, perv!reader, perv!eddie, dirty talk, fingering, p in v, unprotected, pull out, pet names (sweetheart, good girl) modern!eddie

wc: 2.9k

You were on a fold-out massage table in the middle of your living room. You downloaded the app to have a masseuse come to you on a whim. Your friend swore by it. You were a bit apprehensive about letting some stranger come into your home and rub you down while you were naked, but she said it was legit.

When you heard the knock on your front door, you didn’t think you would open it up to one of the hottest men you had ever seen. Leaving you staring at him with wide eyes and your jaw agape.

“You order a massage?” He smirks.

“Yea, sorry, um, come in.” You observe his dark blue scrubs as they hug his upper body.

You lead him inside to show him where to set up.

“First time?”

“What?”

“Is this your first time using the app?” he smiles. Taking off his coat, you notice his tattoos and muscular forearms.

“Oh, I’m… yeah.” You stammered because you were so distracted.

“I could tell, don’t worry. Things are strictly professional.” He explained.

Professionalism was not what you were worried about at this point. Quite the opposite, really.

After Eddie set up his things, he instructed you to lay face down, and then he left the room so you could strip and get under the white cotton sheet.

You called out that you were ready and heard his light footsteps entering the room.

“Anything specific you want me to focus on?”

“Um, my lower back and shoulders have been really hurting,” you mumble into the head pillow.

“Ok, great, let’s get started.”

His hands were like magic, the way he wasn’t too rough or too light. He worked your soar muscles perfectly.

“What’s got you so tense, sweetheart? Let me help you relax,” He spoke.

Relax?! How could you be relaxed with this extremely attractive man who is rubbing his hands all over your naked body in your own home!

And the voice! Oh god, his voice is so hot, you don’t want him to stop talking. It didn’t help that you were wound up in more ways than one.

“Um, uh…. Work, I guess.” You didn’t need to guess; you were drowning in the stress of your responsibilities.

“Well, don’t worry, I’m here to help with that,” he hummed as you heard the squirt of more oil fall into his large palms.

“Oh, yeah, your shoulders are so tense; that's a big knot.” You felt him shuffle, so he stood at your head. If you lifted your head up any further, you’d be face to face with his crotch.

You were trying too hard not to let out a moan as his strong fingers dug into your aching back.

“You gotta relax for me. Is the pressure too much?”

“No-no, you’re perfect- I mean, it’s perfect…”

Eddie let out a chuckle as he continued.

This was so good, too good, but he was right...You needed to relax. You tried not to focus on who was above you but on the feeling that he was giving you.

A few minutes later, you were successfully relaxing into the table.

“That’s it, very good,” he praised, and you let a moan slip out.

“Sorry,” you squeak.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It happens all the time, and it lets me know I’m doing a good job."

Like Eddie said, he was keeping things strictly professional, but you were making it very hard, especially with that moan you let slip from your pretty lips.

Your skin was unbelievably soft, and you smelled really good. With this particular job, Eddie is used to all kinds of different clientele; he never knew what he was walking into when he got booked. So when you answered the door, he was very pleasantly surprised.

You stew in your own thoughts about how good this man’s hands feel, holding back the noises threatening to break the silence. The only sounds filling the room are Eddie’s feet shuffling, breathing, and wet, slippery skin.

“The best way to help with your shoulders is if I also rub down your neck and head. Are you okay if I get oil in your hair?” he asked again in that sexy, soothing tone.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you sighed. Eddie smirks to himself again, knowing he is doing a good job.

“Great,” he shuffles to position himself to get the best angle. You feel as he sits beside you on the table, drapes your arm over his thigh, and uses his free hand to work at your neck.

His hand slowly works its way up, up, up until his long, thick fingers grip your hair, tugging on your scalp. His fingers dig into the perfect pressure points on your head.

You can’t help but let out another moan of pleasure; it just feels so good. You can’t stop your mind from going to an x-rated place, thinking about how good his hand feels tangled in your hair.

You couldn’t ignore your pussy any longer; there was no denying how wet you had gotten over the last half hour, and he hadn’t even made his way down to your lower back. How are you supposed to survive the rest of the time?

Your pussy was throbbing by the time Eddie made his way down to your lower back. You could feel Eddie move the sheet down lower, exposing more of your skin to him. He lightly draped it over your ass, careful not to expose it too much, trying to tuck the sheets into the band of your underwear, but to Eddie’s surprise, you weren’t wearing any.

You hear him clear his throat as he discovers that you are fully naked underneath.

“What side is, uh, bothering you?”

“Right,” you sigh. And I think I might have pulled the back of my thigh,” you suggest, hoping Eddie reads into it.

“Oh yeah, for sure,” he hums.

Eddie was in serious trouble, and the thin material of his pants did not help his situation.

Eddie had never grown hard with a client; this was not normal. He could not excuse himself until the session was over, so he hoped and prayed that his situation would defuse itself until it was time for him to leave.

It did not, you were torturing him, at this point you had to be doing this on purpose. Your moans were getting more and more sensual.

“Mmmmm, you’re so good at this,” you praise as his hands run along your lower back, creeping closer and closer to your ass muscle.

“So I’ve been told”

“Bet you’re really good with your hands in other places.”

Eddie froze. Did that really come out of your mouth, or did he hear things?

“You uh-" he cleared his throat, “-uh, said your lower back, right?”

“Yeah, but like, really low,” you hummed.

“You comfortable if I move the sheet, uh, lower?”

“Yeah,” you wiggled your hips slightly to encourage him to take things further. You cannot remember the last time you had been so turned on.

You hear Eddie’s breath hitch as you feel the fabric slip off your skin.

“Oops”

“Oh shit-”

“It’s okay; you can leave it off”

“You? Uh? Oh-okay” what was he thinking? This was not professional! It would get him fired if anyone found out… but how could they? He was in your home. You wouldn’t tell anyone? Against his better judgement, he decided to leave you exposed…

With your naked body exposed to Eddie, he continued to work on your lower back. Your oiled skin was glistening under each touch, and Eddie’s cock was growing by the second.

Eddie’s hands worked lower as he hesitantly yet excitedly explored the vast planes of your body. He hadn’t dared make a move, but you could feel his hands move closer to your inner thighs, so you partied your legs so he could have better access.

Eddie watched as your legs moved for him, your legs parted, and he had the perfect view of your glistening pussy lips.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he knew he had not even gotten close to that area of your body with the body oil.

With a deep breath, Eddie grazed his fingers closer to your upper inner thigh, right below your ass; the tops of his fingers lightly traced the outside of your lower lips to test the waters.

The last thing Eddie needed was to read your advances the wrong way and end up in jail.

“Mmmm, that’s good,” you hummed, encouraging Eddie to keep going.

“You need me to work on anything else?” Eddie asked suggestively.

“Now that I think about it, I pulled my groin the other day; I think you could really help me with that; you’re so good with your hands.”

“Sounds good, sweetheart,” Eddie hummed, shifting his weight to get the best angle. You felt him crawl up onto the table with you and straddle his legs around you.

His hands work your ass, massaging the muscles up, pulling your skin taught so he could see your swollen pussy lips.

Sucha pretty pussy

“Mmm thank you”

Shit, did Eddie say that out loud?

You let out a chaste breath as you felt his long thick fingers finally graze your wet slit.

Eddie gently massages circles onto your clit, and your hips roll into his hand.

“Mmmm, that’s it, relax f’me… this is what you needed, hmmm?”

“Uh-huh,” you sigh as your body fully relaxes into Eddie’s soft touch.

Eddie’s hand continues to work your fluttering clit before he decides to let an oiled finger slip into your hole.

“Oh, sweetheart, you are so tight, so tense. You should have told me earlier. I really need to loosen you up” he pumped his finger in and out of your pussy before curling his fingers to massage your inner walls.

“Maybe we could extend the session,” your breath hitches.

“I think that can be arranged,” he slips a second finger effortlessly.

As he continued to work your pussy he added his thumb to your clit. That familiar feeling of lust and need built up in your lower stomach as Eddie sped up his fingers.

“More,” you pleaded. You were at his mercy. You’d do anything to have him make you cum.

“I think I need to get in deeper,” he hummed.

You liked that idea; you popped up to finally see him. You watched as his pants slipped from his hips, and your mouth waters at the sight of his hard cock staring you in the face.

“Like what you see?” He smirks as he watches you checking him out while he checks you out, seeing your naked breasts for the first time.

“Yeah, like what you see?” You ask back.

“Oh yes,” he leaned in to cup your face, bringing your lips together.

Eddie’s mouth took over yours, and he ravaged you. His plush lips were so soft as his lips explored your own. His tongue slipped into your mouth as his soft hands moved up your middle to kneed your breasts.

You shuffle back so Eddie can place himself between your legs.

“Need you now,” you spoke into his mouth between kisses.

“Want you so bad” Eddie replies.

“Please,” you begged for him.

Eddie stripped the rest of his scrubs and exposed the tattoos that dawned his alabaster skin. He was covered head to toe in ink. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, but the need to have him inside of you was more, so you widened your legs as far as they could go to expose yourself.

“Thought you said you pulled your groin” Eddie smirks

“Guess your magic hands healed me” You sank your hand between your legs so you were touching yourself, teasing Eddie as you worked your fingers in your needy clit.

“Magic hands, huh?” He replaced your hand with his.

“Mmmmhmmm,” you hum as Eddie kisses you and guides you to lie on the fold-out table.

“You think these are magic just wait and see what my cock can do.”

You gasp as Eddie slips the head of his cock across your wet lips, collecting your slick before the tip of his cock breaches your hole.

His cock was thick and long. Slowly, he stretched you out inch by inch. Sinking deeper and deeper until you enveloped him wholly.

Eddie watched as your pussy swallowed him, skin to skin, he didn’t even know you, but it didn’t matter; all that mattered was how you were making him feel and how he was making you feel.

“Oh, Eddie!” You cried as he started building up his speed, pumping into you.

“Mmmmm, I like how you scream my name.” You watch as his body pumps into you, his abs defining themselves with every thrust in. His big hands grip as best they can on your oiled skin and push your legs to your chest, folding you in half as he does.

“S’big,” you try and grab at Eddie, but he’s too far out of reach, so you ball your hands into fists and grit your teeth in frustration. You want to feel him, to touch him, to have all of him.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Wanna kiss you” you whined.

“Shhhh, you’re okay; as long as my dick is inside of you, you’re fine.”

“Oh fuck!” He sunk deep into you, faster and faster, his hips thrust his cock deeper into your needy cunt.

“That’s it, take it like a good girl.”

God, the mouth on this man, you had no idea.

Eddie gave in and leaned over to kiss you before he unexpectedly jumped off the table and flipped you over to your hands and knees.

“The only way I’m going to get as deep as you want, baby,” you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.

“Just give it to me”

“Oh, asking to be fucked? Wanna be fucked by my cock, huh?”

You nod your head frantically as he aligns your hips to be at the perfect height for him to pound into you.

“Fuck look at that” he massaged your ass, spreading it apart before plunging his hard cock back into your throbbing pussy.

You let out a scream; Eddie was right; this angle was deeper, so deep you swore he was in your stomach at this point.

“That’s it, you can take it.” Eddie watched as your oiled skin bounced off his cock, and he swore he was in heaven.

Your tight pussy clenched down on him even more from the angle. The way your warm wet walls were hugging his cock, how your ass looked bouncing off his body, he could have come by now, but he wanted to hold off, savour this a little while longer.

Eddie reached round your body to massage your clit once more. His fingers were moving so meticulously while his cock was pouncing into you from behind.

“Faster” You grabbed Eddie’s wrist because his fingers were too slow; no way you would cum from them slowly circling your swollen clit.

Eddie listened to your plea and picked up the pace with his hands and his hips. Eddie was pounding into you so hard. If you were an outsider looking in, you would swear the fold-out table would have given out, but you were so cockdrunk you had no other thoughts than how Eddie was making you feel.

“You’re close, baby; I can feel the way you’re squeezing me; you’re going to cum when I say okay.”

“Can’t hold it, wanna cum, wanna cum so bad!” your upper body gives out, only making your ass arch higher for Eddie. He looks down to see the creamy ring form at the base of his cock as your orgasm threatens to take over.

“Hold on, on my count ok.”

“Mmmmmmmm” was all you managed to get out. Eddie s fingers still circling your clit, with his cock hitting your g spot. There was no way you were holding out any longer.

You wanted to cum so bad, but you also wanted to please Eddie, your friend, your hardest.

“Cum for me in…. 3….2….1, cum on my cock” he spoke between each thrust into you.

You listened and came as soon as the words left his mouth. Your body seized, and your mouth opened, but nothing came out as your silent cries were met with a wave of pleasure that washed over your whole being, soaking Eddie’s cock even more.

It could have been minutes or a few just a few thrusts later, you didn't know, but Eddie pulled out and finished, spreading his seed on your ass, which was somehow still perched in the air for him.

“Holy shit,” you hear Eddie whisper. “Definitely never done that before,” he laughed.

“Same,” you sigh, still fucked out.

Eddie picked up the discarded sheet off the floor and wiped off the remanence of his seed off of your ass and back.

“So, uh, that fix your problem?” He smirked.

“Only time will tell.” You sit back up finally with the sheet wrapped around you. “Maybe next time we will have you set up in the bedroom… You know, there is more space up there,” you smile.

“Next time?” Eddie smiles back.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll even cook you something, buy you dinner first.”

“I’d like that.”

Tags: @munson-blurbs @hunter-in-the-upsidedown @joejoequinnquinn @hellfirenacht @cinemabean @voyeurmunson @impmunson @asimpforthe80s @ali-r3n @take-everything-you-can @taintedcigs @trashmouth-richie @strangerstilinski @daisy-munson @bl00dy-hideout @babybimbo777 @lokis-army-77 @jamdoughnutmagician @sadbitchfangirl @mrsjellymunson @xacora @girlwiththerubyslippers @justiceforfoxface @katethetank @frogtape @cool-nick-miller @susie3334 @mrmiyagislittletrees @penguinsandpotterheads @eddies-acousticguitar @elvirasleftnipple @american-idiot-jpg @emo-taurus @ilovetaquitosmmmm @chloemm13 @gri959gri @seatnightsdea @faeriemunson14 @veemoon

#Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson smut #modern!eddie #Eddie Munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #modern!eddie munson x reader #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie munsun x you

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peachesofteal · 2 months

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Simple Math / Part Nine

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.1k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Graphic descriptions of domestic violence. Medical chart from a SANE EXAM. Simon's family history, trauma. Brief sexual content. Hospital setting, nurse!reader, medical inaccuracies. Heavy emotions. Scars. Reader in pain. Hurt/comfort. Kate is a dog with a bone. Penny is cute. POV switches. Simon and Johnny make a discovery, and a promise.

You can’t breathe.

The air is too thin, too tight, and you stand, silent, in the foyer of the home that you’ve been invited to.

A clock ticks on the wall. You count each second, waiting.

You should leave. You should run.

Simon’s footsteps echo above your head, already up the stairs with your first bag and work backpack.

He said to make yourself at home, but you can’t move.

The foyer is the foyer of a family. There is a hall tree with little shoes scattered beneath it, a tiny, pink backpack hanging on the hook. Too many wellies to count, all in pastel colors, matching a small yellow and green rain jacket that’s folded on the stairs. There’s a black hoodie, a black jacket, and a green on the coat rack, hung haphazardly with a toss. Men’s sizes, and you notice two pairs of trainers next to one pair of black boots, and two crayons hide, peeking out from under the bench, one blue, one purple, so worn down they’re almost half gone.

A home. A family.

“Hey, so up-“ You flinch. The jolt has you stumbling, one misstep over another, and he tenses, prepared to steady you, careful hand outstretched, but not encroaching.

“Sorry.” You shouldn’t be here.

“No, I’m sorry. I know better.” You blink, and the silence is heavy, weighted down like bricks at the bottom of a river.

He’s still wearing the mask.

“Can I… give you a tour?”

“S-sure.”

You lose your breath again in the kitchen.

Simon turns away to the sink, loading dishes into the dishwasher as you stare at the fridge and its collage with a tight chest. It’s covered; photos, invitations, magnets, notes, finger painted masterpieces. You step closer, studying, noticing the way they all fit together, mix matched perfectly, and even in the pictures, the three of them glow effortlessly, too sweet and smiling, happy. Together. A family. A perfect unit.

Your nose tingles, and you blink back the tears that fight forward, wiping away the two that escape and trickle down your cheek. You don’t know why it overwhelms you, why it fills you with grief.

What is it like, to be loved like that? To have a family, like this?

Get it together. You’re a guest in their house.

It’s too much, and you chastise yourself for getting so emotional over nothing, over something stupid.

You need to be alone.

Dry sandpaper scrubs the back of your throat when you swallow. “Simon?” He turns, concerned, glancing at the fridge and then back to you, drying his hands on a towel.

“What is it?”

“Can I… I’m sorry. I’m… tired.” You try to explain your needs but it’s awkward on your mouth, uncomfortable. His expression creases with sympathy.

“Of course, c’mon. I’ll show you.”

“Alright, one more step.”

“’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, bun. You’re alright.” In the back of your mind, you’re registering Simon’s warmth, the wilted lean that has you tipped into him, slow steps on the stairs, one by one as you fight to stay upright. He’s warm, and pillowy… the kind of comfort you could sink into, disappear inside for a while. It sounds so… nice.

But your shoulder is throbbing. The pain combined with the emotions swirling about in your heart has you on the verge of tears, top teeth dug into your lip, and your molars grind against one other with each step.

“It’s just at the end of the hall.”

You shouldn’t be doing this. Even now, after agreeing, getting in the car, getting yourself here… the desire to bolt runs hot under your skin, buzzing inside your skull, an insistent need.

You’re in their house. Where they live. With their baby.

What if he comes back? What if he hurts them?

“Hey.” Simon says your name slowly, ducking down to get your attention. Fuck.

“Sorry, I’m just… exhausted.”

“I’m sure. It’s right here.” He opens the door to a room, flicking on a light switch. The walls are a sage green, a gentle hue that matches the bedspread, framed photos organized into a gallery wall, pictures of smiles and laughter, a tiny Penny in Simon’s naked arms, a candid shot of Johnny in full military regalia, the three of them together somewhere, hiking, with Pen snuggled in a papoose on Johnny’s chest. The bed is the centerpiece, a massive king size piled with pillows, and it looks so inviting, so soft that you want to collapse into it right here and now.

“Wow.” It’s the best you can do, considering the screeching agony vibrating in your shoulder. You try to breathe through it, but the pain only shortens your draw.

“Yeah, it’s our old bed. Very comfortable.” He puts your other duffel down by the dresser, and you try not to dwell on the idea of it once being theirs, where they slept, where they’ve loved one another, held each other, their child, their- “It’s got its own bathroom, just through here.” He’s on the other side of the room, turning on a light that is far too bright, and you squint, jerking away with a gasp. Are you getting a migraine too? “Shit, sorry.” The room spins. You stumble towards the bed, limbs heavy, head full of cement, wooziness blurring your immediate sight. You’re disjointed, a mess of pain and disorientation, and you cover your eyes with a palm.

“Sorry, I think… I think I’m getting a headache. My shoulder-“ it slips out before you can stop yourself, and even with your eyes closed, you know Simon is staring at you, picking you apart with his eyes.

“Your shoulder?” You’re on a runaway train now. It has no brakes. No destination. It just barrels down the tracks, unable to stop for rational thought or pleas of mercy. It has no plan, and it does not heed you. You’re helpless. Hopeless. Lost. Reaching out for a light in the dark, a rope, a life vest, and a sob breaks through to the surface.

“It really hurts.”

“It hurts?” His voice cuts, tone worried. “Which one?” You use your good side to point, shakily.

“I’m sorry. I’m s-sorry.” You try to tell him, try to explain that you don’t mean to cry, or be emotional. You don’t mean to be making a fuss. You’re not supposed to be a problem.

A warm hand lays atop your thigh, thumb rubbing into your scrub pants.

“Sweetheart, you’re in pain. You don’t have to apologize for crying.” Your vision blurs, thick with tears, and fingers gently probe along your shoulder cuff. When you flinch, he swears. “Shhh, alright. Easy.” He’s gentling a spooked horse, carefully feeling along where you ache as you cry through it, unable to stop. “I’m going to go get some ice. We can… wrap it up, if you think that will help?”

“Ye-yeah, okay.” His steps fade, and you try to get your top off, sliding the arm that doesn’t hurt underneath your turtleneck, which is confined by the rigidity of your scrub top.

When you try the other one, the pain is so sharp, a cry bursts from your lips, and Simon sprints up the stairs. How did it get so much worse between the beginning of your shift and now?

“What happened?”

“I can’t… I can’t get my shirts off.” You uselessly tug at the hem, eyes half open, letting it fall from your fingers, stuck in a loop, frantic movements matching the increasing pace of your lungs.

“Can I help?” His face is lined in concentration, and you spot an icepack on the bed now, with a sling, and a wrap. They’re prepared. Must come home with a fair number of injuries. “Bun, are you with me?” You sniffle and nod. What choice do you have? What choice do you ever have? The pain is too much. It’s all too much, and it boils over until you need to get the shirts off, not caring that it will expose you, or show Simon the very details you’re always trying to hide. You’re too far lost now, too far gone.

If you’re here, in their home, shouldn't you let them see? Shouldn't you let them know?

The truth is terrifying, the reality of the trust you have in them. You know Simon won’t hurt you, instinctively. You feel safe here, in their home, their old bed, and when he looks at you, you show him, just for a second, the fractured mirror that is your reflection. You show him the pain and the rage and the fear, you give him everything. You shove the girl in the mirror forward, you force her into the sun and you hold her face to the light, trying not to sob as she screams at you in protest.

Just for a second.

“Okay.” He nods, and then cups your cheek. “You’re okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” You nod with tears that sting, and then you slowly pull away, slipping back into yourself, hiding the girl in the mirror away, making more promises to her that you’re not sure you’re going to keep.

“We’re going to put this one,” He slowly, carefully lifts the arm with the bad shoulder until it’s resting on his own, “right here. That alright?” A whimper builds, but you give him another nod, breathing through the anguish. There are a million little needles in your shoulder, all stabbing you over and over, ripping and gnawing at the cartilage, or the bone, or the muscle… you can’t be sure. “I’m going to bring your scrub top up now. Is this okay?” his fingers peel it from the turtleneck, and when he gets to your head, you incline your neck, more tears rushing forth.

“Yeah.” You whisper, a tired, pained moan, falling from your lips without permission.

“I know it hurts; I know. Almost there, try to breathe.” He soothes you, and the top slides towards him along your arm. He pulls it free, throwing it on the floor somewhere, his hands returning to your thighs.

“Sorry.” It’s automatic, ingrained. A reaction to pain, to fear, to the idea of being a burden, something that haunts you, every day. He ignores it.

“Ready for the next?” The turtleneck comes less easy, but the two of you are in sync like dance partners. The pain shoots up your arm when you move your neck again, and Simon wipes a few tears from your cheek, carefully leaning you back into the pillows and pulling the comforter down.

There’s a sharp intake of breath, the raw edge of surprise, horror, you’re sure, and you close your eyes. You can't look at him, when you know what he sees. You know what you look like. A roadmap of foolishness. Of weakness. You know the scars are plainly on display, still raised, still ugly. Like you.

He says nothing, only sits at your side, bed dipping with his weight. “I’m going to take your shoes off too, okay?” He narrates and asks for permission with each touch, pulling your sneakers free, satisfying thunk of each one hitting the floor, and then moves on to sliding the ice pack underneath you, wrapping it firmly but not too tight, ensuring it stays in place. He’s tender and slow, thoughtful, your eyes fighting to stay closed, brain and body starting to drift off into uncomfortable sleep. “Not yet, sweetheart.” There’s a rattle, two pills being deposited into your hand.

“What are these?"

“Paracetamol.” He turns the bottle, label out, word coming into focus enough to be verified, and you swallow them down with the glass of water in his outstretched hand.

“Thank you.” The croak stays lodged in your throat, and his eyes crinkle, the sign of a smile.

“Get some rest.” It’s comfort he gives you, leaning forward, pressing mask covered lips to your forehead. Comfort that doesn’t elicit a flinch or a sense of wariness, and you bask in the shine of the sun on your skin, holding tight to it, slipping into a dreamless sleep.

“Banky.” Pen demands, hands outstretched.

“No binky, it’s lunch time. Lunch.” Simon makes the sign for lunch, L shaped pointer finger and thumb, circling the corner of his mouth. He does it a few times, accompanied with the word again and again until Penny huffs and leans back, eyes wide. “You try. You try, lunch.”

“No!” She shrieks, and he shushes her, scattering some banana puffs across her tray.

“Shhh Pen. Bun is sleeping, remember?”

“Bunny seep?” She gives him the sign for sleep, or her sign at least, a palm dragging down her face followed by very dramatic closing lids. “Seep?”

“Yes, sleeping.” Simon makes the sign to acknowledge she was correct. “Good job.” He gives her a thumbs up, and she smiles, sweetness melting away some of the tense worry that's taken up in his heart.

“Puff?” She holds one out to him, but he shakes his head, pointing at her mouth.

“For you. Eat them, eat your puffs.” He signs along with the words, and she mimics him, food in hand, eyes lighting up when she finally makes it in her mouth.

He glances towards the stairs. You’re in the guest room, far enough away that Penny’s noise shouldn’t wake you, but still he tries to keep her preoccupied, distracted from making a fuss.

He wants you to get as much sleep as possible, this morning’s discovery of your shoulder unsettled him more than he’s frankly comfortable with, and the image of your swollen, battered face and neck leers and taunts.

She’s safe now. She’s here.

“Dada.” Pen calls, and he smiles, leaning forward to brush his lips across his baby’s soft skin, wispy curls tickling his nose.

“Love you, baby girl.” He signs it too, and she beams.

“Luh.” It’s supposed to be love, and though the word is a struggle, the sentiment is the same. He doesn’t care that she’s not quite got it yet, he’ll take every word, every syllable he can get. These moments, each moment with his child, Johnny’s child, theirs… is a gift, one he never thought he’d have until Johnny. A privilege.

His phone vibrates with a text message.

>Simon

>Give me a ring when you get a chance. On the black cell.

“Thought you were on vacation?” Kate sighs, click clack of keys echoing in the background.

“I am, but if I’m too idle I start to go crazy. The wife likes it when I have a project.” Simon pauses, cocking his head. Penny’s feet kick in the highchair, baby spoon banging against the plastic tray.

“Hang on, Kate.” He drags a kitchen chair over in front of her so he can sit, pinning the phone between his shoulder and chin to twist the lid off the applesauce pouch. “Shhh, here you go." Penny gurgles with a grin at the taste of the fruit, and he smiles back at her. "So, what’s the new project then?”

“The nurse.” Simon’s eyes dart to the floor above his head.

“It’s not a good time.”

“I can talk, you can listen.” She brushes him off, sipping something with ice and then continuing. “I found it hard to believe that a civilian would be able to scrub their footprint like this, so I did a little digging. The more digging I did, the worse my fixation became.” Like a dog with a bone.Simon holds his breath. “I just needed a key, and with those photos you provided, well, things just started unraveling.”

“Kate.” He growls because he can’t manage anything else. He’s trying to keep himself still, heart pounding in his chest. Penny coos, like she notices the shift in her dad’s demeanor, and he immediately attends her, thumbing at a smear of applesauce on her cheek.

“I found a SANE exam from a few years ago. Small hospital in southern Colorado, right over the border from Texas. Patient’s name is Jane Doe, but the photos are almost an exact match.” His stomach lurches, dark clouds shadowing his vision, world splitting into blood and rage. Violence.

He didn’t want to be right.

He wanted to it to be anything, anything but this.

Who?

Is it the same person that choked you? Beat you? Tore your shoulder damn near out of its socket?

His gaze drifts to Penny.

They'll need to loop Price in, immediately.

“Can you send it to me?”

“It’s already in your email.” She speeds past, eagerly. “There’s more. I used the photo to run facial recognition on archives in neighboring states and got a host of hits from Texas. You’ll have to visually confirm, but if I’m right, I’ve got positive ID on your girl.”

“How?”

“School. She graduated high school a year before the rest of her class, ended up with a full scholarship to Rice University in Houston, Texas. Went on to get a bioscience degree and graduated from Rice early.” Pride flutters beneath his ribs, honeyed and heavy. Their smart girl. “She ends up at a different school for pre-med but drops out before the first year ends. Not sure what happened but she started an accelerated nursing program, and breezed through it. You should see her transcripts. I don’t think this girl has gotten less than an A+ on anything since kindergarten.”

“Send them over.”

“Already done. After that, she starts work at a local hospital, and then… nothing. Her paper trail stops. Her job disappears. She’s a ghost except for the sealed court records, and now the Jane Doe medical chart, but that didn’t happen until later. The aliases she’s used over the past few years, they’re in the wind. It’s really quite impressive. She’s either got a connection somewhere, or she’s CIA.” Kate is animated, talking quickly, and he interrupts her to get to the question that’s weighing on him, brushing off the latter immediately. You’re not a honeypot. He spots those a mile away.

“You know her name, then. Her birth name?”

“I do.” She’s silent for a moment, and then she gives it softly. First, middle and last.

He closes his eyes. He tries to imagine you as a girl, on the playground, playing tags with other kids, all of them shouting your name, or as a teenager, in a fight with a parent, one of them yelling your name. He pictures you as a uni student, with your friends, laughing and having a good time somewhere, one of them hollering your name over too loud music. You’ve had a whole life with that name, a whole story. You were a person with that name, and he tries to imagine the way it would sound on your tongue, on Johnny’s, even his.

You’re a ghost now, will you let them bring you into the light?

Will you let them help you reclaim it; the way Johnny helped him reclaim his own?

Kate subtly coughs on the other end of the line.

“Thanks, Kate.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll keep digging. Check your email when you get a chance.”

“Will do.”

“Oh! And the hotel, I sent that paperwork to your email as well.” He thanks her, again, tells her to try to enjoy her time off and hangs up just as Penny starts to fidget, unhappy with being in the highchair for so long without attention.

“Alright, lamb. Let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?” He pulls her free, showering kisses all over her cheeks and neck that make her giggle. “Can’t be wearin’ your applesauce and pajamas over to John and Lou’s, can you?”

Johnny is anxious. Simon can see it a mile away, even before he gets in the room, he notices how he is fidgets, unspent energy and too much time to dwell culminating in an unsettled state.

So, when he kisses him first thing, he makes it long and slow. He drags Johnny’s bottom lip between his teeth, carefully taking his time until he’s sure his partner is half hard beneath his hospital gown and blanket.

“Si.” Johnny groans, and he relents, pulling away to cradle his face between his hands, taking him in, every line, every fleck of gold in his blue eyes, soaking up the healing, healthy glow that glimmers in his skin.

His doctor says it won’t be long now, until he can come home, and Simon is counting the days.

To have everyone, under one roof, feels like a fever dream.

“Missed you.” Johnny noses into his neck, and Simon reciprocates with a kiss to his temple, his cheek.

“Missed ye too.” He pauses, squeezing his hand. “Pen?”

“Alright. Grumpy this morning. Think she wanted to see you.” She did, he knows it, but he tries not to pile it on. Johnny knows their daughter misses him, as much as he misses her. They’re two peas in a pod, best friends, halves to a whole. They’re both suffering. “Went with Lou and John fine. I’ll bring her in the morning.”

“Good.” He nods, tilting his chin for another kiss, and Simon gives it without hesitation, basking in the warmth and familiar feel of his skin.

When he clears his throat, he pulls away with a sigh. “How is she?”

“In pain. Shoulder is nearly torn out of the socket, and her neck is in poor shape. I had to help get her into bed, she couldn’t get her shirt off. Emotionally she’s… still got the walls up, but she let them slip for a second last night, before she let me help her. And I caught her crying in front of the fridge. Think the photos of Pen got to her somehow.” His stomach twists, new, horrifying possibility dawning on him. Do you have a child somewhere?

“Did she get any sleep?”

“She hadn’t come down when I left to take Penny, so I assume so.”

“Good. She needs it.” Simon agrees. After injury, after trauma, body and mind need so much more care. More rest, more nutrients, water, protein. More love.

“Kate called.” He bites the bullet, fingers flexing against his knee. “She found a loose end and tugged it.” Johnny straightens. He’s every bit the solider, even laid up in bed. Waxy, soft features turn razor sharp and focused, except instead of his practiced steadiness, he’s chomping at the bit.

“Tell me.”

Simon does. He tells him everything Kate said, almost verbatim. Johnny’s face changes from worried to enraged when he finally gets to the medical chart.

“No.” Johnny’s whisper is faint, thin, papyrus. Brittle and broken, almost washed away, and Simon doesn’t blame him. The chart is horrific for them, was horrific for him earlier, turned his stomach until he thought he’d be sick.

He’s killed. He’s tortured. But to be there when Johnny revealed the handprinted tender skin on your neck, to be there when you cried out in pain last night, when he saw the scars on your body, the cigarette burns that were so familiar, to look at these photos and know that you’ve been brutalized beyond belief, makes his vision run red and his heart ache.

There’s a ghost in these photos. A different girl, but the same, a glimpse of what he saw last night. Still their bunny, their girl. He can see her, through the broken blood vessels and compound forearm fracture. He can see her past the swollen cheekbone and broken nose, the fresh burns on your stomach and torso. The doctor’s notes indicate that you said you were mugged, and sexually assaulted, but refused to finish the SANE exam and took off.

He's not surprised.

The first time he saw the burns on your naked skin, he swore he could his mother’s screams, and for the hundredth time today, Simon thinks of her. He wonders, if she ever went to a hospital, if she ever begged anyone to help her, or them. He wonders if someone saw what was happening, how she was slowly disappearing, sinking in on herself, and tried to help. He wonders if she felt as alone as you seem to. If she too, became a ghost.

He looks at these photos and cannot fight the pain, the memories.

“Oh, Si.” Johnny cups his cheek, thumb soothing softly across his skin, trying to wipe away the tears that fall. He can’t stop them, not now, and Johnny does not ask, only holds him through it, lets him cry into his hands, pain and suffering of a small, frightened boy coming out of his body in broken sobs.

He won’t fail you. Not like he did her.

After minutes turn long, he takes a deep breath, pressing his lips to Johnny’s palm, and utters a promise as cold as death.

“We’ll kill them. Whoever it is.”

#peaches writes #simple math #ghoap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x soap x reader #ghoap #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x soap #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #ghost x reader

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undiscovered-horizon · 6 months

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[The one where Sanji is jealous of the attention you're getting and he takes advantage of the effect he has on you.]

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The banquet has been going on for a good few hours now. All of the Straw Hats were surprisingly infallible in playing their roles to infiltrate the creme de la creme of pirates: Usopp and Nami, dressed as waiters, could befriend anyone into telling them something interesting. Luffy is taken for much stupider and thus less dangerous than he really is and some looser lips aren't afraid to spill a secret or two around him. Zoro and you are just supposed to be in the in the background, watching and listening. So far so good.

Sanji's mission is to listen in to the gossip that drunk sailors often like to exchange with bartenders but he has found himself in a terrible situation. On one hand, he couldn't blow his cover and start a fight. On the other, he is beyond done with the unsavoury comments about you the men drinking by the bar are exchanging. The only thing that curbs his burning jealousy is the knowledge that he's the only one to know the answers to their questions and speculations about your prowess in several private matters. Despite his fury, he can't really blame them. His own thoughts are escaping his grasp whenever he glances at your seemingly disinterested exterior, made all the more enticing in a long, red dress that belongs more to opera houses than bars frequented by pirates.

He's been scrubbing this one glass for a good five minutes. If he tightens his grip even just a little, the dish is bound to break into a thousand little pieces. Finally, he sets the champagne flute down and makes his way to the chattering men.

"Hate to be the joykiller, gentlemen," he speaks up casually, never giving away even a hint of his anger, "but she is not interested in you."

The three men look him up and down. Either they are ignorant to the concept of hygiene and sunscreen or they really are old enough to be your father. One of them gives him a contemptuous grin, uncovering a row of gold teeth.

"And what do you know, bar boy?" the pirate asks in a hoarse voice.

Sanji leans against the bar counter on his arms. "That rum you're drinking, Cruzan 9?" he nods his head towards the glasses with unfinished drinks. "She's more of a Caroni girl. A couple more zeros on the price tag, longer in the barrel, a rich bouquet of oak, caramel and berries." A charming, almost not arrogant, smile enters his face as he looks at the pirates with a look of superiority in his blue eyes. "Sophisticated palate for a sophisticated woman."

"Is that so?" The pirate leans towards Sanji. He's about to say something else but one of his drinking buddies stops him by putting an arm on his shoulder in a meaningful manner.

"How can you tell?" the other man asks. His voice is bright, filled with genuine curiosity. He hopes to learn something interesting about the mysterious beauty in red.

But Sanji isn't willing to share his secrets. "Comes with experience," he says in an interested voice. Then, to the pirates' dismay, he winks at them and goes back to wiping down his workplace.

"Gentlemen."

A familiar voice makes Sanji immediately look up from the counter he's been cleaning. With grace that only befits someone confident, you politely nod at the three men by the bar and make your way to Sanji. The pirates' eyes linger on you like the perceptive eyes of predators.

His hands move quickly and swiftly as he makes you a drink, knowing exactly what you opt for in similar circumstances - fake "bougie" parties that are insufferable while sober.

"King's Jubilee for my one true queen," he announces while sliding the cocktail glass towards you.

Looking at the drink, you purse your lips having noticed something.

"It's missing the cherry," you point out.

With faux humility, he places a hand over his heart. The heavy rings on his fingers shine slightly in the twilight of the open-air bar. "My most sincere apologies. If I may redeem myself, madam." He bows his head.

"Madam?" you repeat in confusion. "I thought I was a queen?"

Sanji chuckles in a low voice. Your wit and humour are only making you more beautiful in his eyes, always keeping up with his suave words and innuendos.

"I am but a humble servant, Your Highness," he drones the title.

The men sitting by the bar watch the scene with jealousy and fascination. It's beyond them how a bartender could one-up the most notorious of pirates but at the same time, they can't just look away from your flirtatious grin and the clear desire shining in your eyes.

Sanji takes one maraschino cherry out of the jar behind the counter and, holding it by the stem, offers the sweet treat to you. Leaning over the bar, you grab the dessert fruit with your teeth and pluck it from the stem, all the while studying Sanji's dark expression. He's thinking about something obscene, that's for sure.

Taking advantage of the short distance between you, he leans in to whisper something into your ear. The envious voyeurs can't hear his words over the loud music and laughter but they do see your sudden bashfulness. Your eyes momentarily cast down. Whatever that bartending boy has said, it made even a woman of your poise flustered.

Your breath hitches in your throat when Sanji places a soft kiss right below your ear, letting his warm lips brush against your jaw. Then, with weak knees and fuzzy thoughts, you take the drink and go back to your corner to continue meticulous observation of the more interesting guests.

Sanji meets the angered eyes of the proud, envious pirates. He doesn't seem to mind their hurt egos and the doom that it foretells. With a self-assured grin on his face, he asks them:

"Another round, my good gentlemen?"

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satorusugurugurl · 1 month

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My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,882

Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language, steamy kisses, pillow walls

A/N: Ah yes, trauma dumping before things get super spicy!!! Love the communication, it’s giving this could be a great relationship but it’s complicated. If you want to be included in the tag list, you MUST have your age in your bio PLEASE!!! Thank you!!

Part One Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

Your breathless words had the world crashing down around Satoru as he stared at your flushed face. His eyes widened as he released you, his own heart hammering in his chest. He had never lost control like that before! But there was this pull in his chest, one that screamed that he needed to protect you from the walking douchebag with black hair away from his; no, what the fuck? Not his girl, his client!

“Holy fuck, I'm sorry! Shit, uhm, I shouldn't have done that.” Satoru grumbled, scrubbing his hands down his face. “I’m sorry.”

Your fingers trailed slowly over your lips. They were still tingling. “No, it's okay. I almost blew our cover.” Satoru slowly dragged his hands down his face, his eyes transfixed on you as you spoke. “That was all part of the act. If you didn't do that, it wouldn't have looked as convincing.” Satoru visibly seemed to relax, shoulders slumping as he sighed.

“Thank fuck.”

“It was just weird.”

“I'm sorry?”A white eyebrow cocked up at your words. “Me kissing you was weird? Was it bad?”

Your face flushed more, the heat spreading across your cheeks before setting over your chest. “Oh god, that came out wrong!” Your hands shot up in defense. “I-I didn't mean like that, Satoru! I just—I haven't kissed anyone in over a year and a half. So I guess I just—yeah, I’m rusty.”

“No,” you jerked your head up, “no, it was nice.” Stunning blue eyes softened, making you swallow hard. He thought it was nice. He is the hottest man on the planet, and ESCORT thought kissing you was nice.

What the fuck was this life?

Snapping out of the trance Satoru had you in; you cleared your throat. “I-I think I’m gonna take a s-shower!” You tossed the extra pillow to the futon on the floor. “Oh, and uhm, that kiss was nice for me too.” You turned, bolting for the bathroom before slamming the door.

You slowly slid down it, sitting on the ground as you touched your lips. Satoru had such soft lips. It felt really good being kissed like you were wanted. No, no, it was an act! It's all an act. An act that had Satoru pacing the floor as he ran his hand through his hair.

It was only once he heard the shower running that he sat on the ground. What the fuck was that?! His pale skin was almost red as he tugged at white tufts of hair. He never got flustered with clients before! Maybe he was going insane. He must be because his mind keeps replaying the kiss repeatedly.

The way you stiffened, how your hands gripped him so tight as he kissed you like he had never kissed a client before. Satoru slapped both his cheeks before shaking his head. That breathtaking kiss was nothing more than him doing his job. He was looking out for you as a client. Yeah, that was it. That asshole of a guy was the reason his heart was still racing as he thought of you and your lips.

By some miracle, both of you managed to pull your thoughts away from the kiss. You showered before switching with Satoru. He finally came out ten minutes later, grinning as he witnessed you placing the four extra pillows down the middle of the futon. You fluffed, pushed, and sat back to assess your constriction before repeating the process repeatedly until Satoru barked out a laugh from behind.

“Quit the impressive wall you’ve built.” Looking over your shoulder, you watched Satoru pull a tank top over his head. He slowly pulled it down over chiseled abs that had to have been crafted by a Renaissance artisan. Because there was no way those were real. “I’ve never had a client do that before.”

”Please don’t take it personally.” You whispered under your breath before fluffing another pillow. “It makes me feel a bit better; I haven’t shared a bed with anyone in a while.”

“Hey, no worries, whatever makes you feel comfortable, you keep doing it.”

God, why was he so nice? Sure, you paid him the big bucks to pretend to be your boyfriend. But that didn’t mean he had to be so understanding and kind regarding your antics. If anything, you would have assumed your pillow wall would have irritated anyone. You know for a fact that Toji would have hated it.

His kind, understanding patience had you transfixed on his movements as you both settled into bed. You were on your side, facing him as he stared at the ceiling, his hands resting behind his head. The silence wasn’t at all awkward. It was comforting in a way. You didn’t have to force yourselves to make dreadful small talk; you could enjoy the silence.

The silence, however, had questions eating away at your insides. “Satoru?” Your voice mingled with chirping crickets and the warm spring breeze outside. You waited until his head turned in your direction before you continued. “Would it be okay if I asked you a question?” His face softened as he nodded his head.

”Of course.”

“Why did you become an escort?”

Satoru chuckled, rolling onto his side so you both faced each other. “I think I’ve answered that question about a million times, so it’s easy.” His arm snaked around one of the pillows between you, hugging it to his chest. “I come from a pretty influential clan. It’s all about power, money, and success with them, and being an only child, they expected a lot from me.” His eyes rolled. “The old geezers kept going about when I would get married and have my own kids. And I didn't want anyone else feeling that way.” A cunning smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So, I became an escort to help people.” He snickered, hugging the pillow tighter. “Plus, I get to annoy those controlling old farts. So it’s a win-win for me. But I still handle my family affairs; being an escort is like my second job.” His words were genuine, and they had you smiling.

”That’s actually really sweet.” You shifted, inching just a bit closer to him. “You seem like a genuinely nice guy, doing stuff like this for strangers.” You giggled nervously, shaking your head. “That speaks volumes; I know you’re a nice guy, but I don’t know a thing about you.”

”I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Honestly.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay, so do you like sleeping with your clients? Or has sex lost its spark?” You watched him curiously.

He shrugged a shoulder, smirking. “Sex is still good when it's with a good partner. But I honestly don't sleep with a majority of my clients. One because, well, let's be honest, they can't afford it. I charge double the price of a single day for sex. So that's ¥240,000.”

“For sex?!”

“Yep! So people can't afford it, especially when I do family events like this. But I usually refuse; I don't particularly like sleeping with someone unless I know them. You know?”

You hummed, and Satoru grinned, inching himself closer. Another one of your constructed pillows shifted out of the way. “I understand. I'm glad you have the right to refuse.” He nodded, blue eyes almost sparkling in the light of the moon flooding the room. “Have you ever been in love?”

“Puppy love, nothing more than that.” Satoru pursed his lips in thought. “But I'm not opposed to falling in love someday.”

“God,” you groaned, rolling into your back, “look at me, asking you stupid questions like I’m in high school.”

Satoru sat up, laying on his elbow as he looked down at you with a pout. “No! No, I don't mind! I like talking to you.” He was leaning over you, smiling wide, white strands of hair falling in his face.

“I like talking to you too, Satoru.”

Satoru wanted to reach out and move Y/H/C strands out of your face. To see if your skin felt as soft as it looked, to feel your warmth. His hand moved, and just before it touched you, he dropped it, clenching it in the pillow

“Y/N, could I ask you something?”

“Seeing as I asked you something, it's only fair.” You smiled, and it was so fucking cute Satoru wanted to bury his face in the pillow and kick his feet. Restraining his urge, he cleared his throat.

“You mentioned your ex in passing. I'm assuming it was that asshole from earlier?” You frowned, nodding. “I don't like to pry or push my clients, but I keep thinking about what you said. What did you mean by ‘why didn't he?’ when I asked why he broke up with you.”

Sitting up, you sighed, eyes slowly shutting. Remembering that night was something you desperately tried to avoid. Satoru, however, had opened up to you, and he was helping you. Plus, he'd already caught a glimpse of Toji, so you might as well bite the bullet and tell him.

Sucking in a deep breath, you exhaled slowly, bringing your knees to your chest, hugging them. “Toji Zen’in and I were high school sweethearts. He was my first for everything, so of course, I fell hard. We moved in together when we graduated high school into a small apartment in Kyoto. We got engaged at nineteen, and things went downhill.” Your grip tightened around yourself. “To make a painfully long story short, Toji developed a gambling habit, burning through his savings while I was in college.” The sheets shifted as Satoru sat up, turning to watch you with narrowed eyes.

“So, as a novice baker working at my parent's inn at twenty-one, I faced a dilemma. My fiancè was jobless, nonetheless, and behind on our rent.” The inside of your nose began to burn as tears threatened to escape. “I could leave him and focus on me and my career. I'd be losing my home and the supposed love of my life. Or I could use the money I saved up for pastry school to cover the rent we were behind on.”

Sheets shifted, and a large hand gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into Satoru’s eyes. “You didn’t.” The tears streaming down your cheeks answered his question. “Y/N—” A sad, broken laugh sounded in your chest.

“I did. Used everything I saved up to keep us in our apartment for four years.” Nausea churned in your stomach as you laughed a little louder. “After all of that, everything I did, he broke off our engagement. He said he didn't love me, that he couldn't see himself with me five years down the road.” More tears fell down your cheeks, landing on the sheets. “Toji said I was too focused on my career, my dreams, that I was eating too many sweets. That I wasn't as exciting as I used to be.” Satoru’s gaze darkened as you spoke, watching you wipe uselessly at your eyes. “That devastated me, so I packed up, moved to Tokyo, and got pastry training. I haven't been back since.”

“That fuckin’ dick!” Satoru looked obviously upset over everything coming out of your mouth. “Seriously, you're beautiful, god I hate people like that!” No one should ever be treated the way you have been. To take care of a partner, give up on a dream for someone who you were supposed to marry, to have them pull shit like that. It made Satoru sick to his stomach.

“Yeah, I'm still trying to get over it. In a way, I guess I'm happy it happened because I feel like I wouldn't have gotten as far in my career as I have. But the scars are still there, along with the trust issues. I can't bring myself to date anyone, let alone have sex.”

Oh. Satoru perked up at you mentioning sex. You had told him you didn't need sex. The reasoning behind that was like an itch he couldn't scratch. You brought it up, so he might as well take the opportunity to ask while he had that.

“Why is that? The sex part, I mean, you deserve your needs to be taken care of as much as the next person.”

“That my friend is because he broke up with me right after we had sex. Imagine just having an orgasm, and your boyfriend gets off of you and tells you he wants to break up before listing everything wrong with you.”

“Fuckin’ shithead.” Satoru wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest and hugging you as tightly as possible. “I'm so sorry you went through that. He's an asshole for doing that to you.” Satoru’s hand gently stroked your head as your face rested in the crook of his neck. “I hope you recover soon because you deserve to feel loved and happy.” His hand paused as he snickered. “And have mind-blowing sex that makes you forget all about those bullshit excuses he gave you.”

Gojo Satoru’s words and tone were so genuine you found yourself smiling into his neck. Your arms wrapped around him as you lay down. “I hope so, too. Thank you, Satoru.”

“No, thank you for sharing that with me; it means a lot.”

The two of you stayed like that, his hand stroking your hair while you rested on his chest. Your pillow wall lasted thirty minutes and was never constructed again that night or the following one because there was a comfort you and Satoru found in each other.

The two of you had so much fun during the day. Laughing and talking as you would hang around with your family and friends. You told stories and jokes and went to dinners with the wedding party together. He got along well with everyone, and your friends liked him and his looks. At the same time, your parents admired him for helping around the inn, delivering towels to guests, and cleaning up with you. They saw him as a perfect partner, just like you had paid him to do it.

But you were beginning to wonder if it was just his job or just him being Gojo Satoru. The amount of laughing and talking you did in front and behind closed doors didn't feel like he was doing another job. He seemed to be enjoying himself truly. The days seemed to fly by, and it was hard to believe it was Wednesday night. Satoru walked you to the bar your friends were at for the bachelorette party. If it was Wednesday, you only had four days left with him.

“Are you planning on getting drunk, like super drunk?” Satoru asked, looking at you from over his sunglasses. “Because that's a sight I would pay money to see.”

“Nah, I'll have a few drinks, but I don't like getting hammered drunk.” You gently bumped your shoulder into his side. “You sure you don't want to join us? The girls said they’re okay if you join.”

“Eh, I don't like drinking. I'm a lightweight, and it never appealed to me. If Suguru were here, oh, he'd be down.” You beamed up at him as he mentioned his one and only best friend. “Seriously, he'd love this shit. Being surrounded by girls, drinking with them.” Satoru shoved his hands in his pockets. “Seriously though, he'd love you. You two would get along great. I’ll have to introduce you to him when we get back to Tokyo.”

His words struck you like a hot iron. He was pulling out his phone and checking the time, oblivious to what he had just said. The man you were paying to be your boyfriend for a week wanted to introduce you to his friend? His best friend!

It had your heart fluttering as butterflies swarmed in your stomach. Satoru hadn't even corrected himself as he peered down at you, returning the warm and happy smile you were positive was tugging at your lips. God, you hadn't been this happy in so long.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

“Cool! We should set something up. Maybe we could get din—”

The door to the bar flew open, and your friends, all looking intoxicated, spotted you. “There she is! Hurry up, Y/N, you need to catch up!” the bride-to-be slurred as she reached for you.

“Waaait!! Mina, let her say bye to Satoru!!” another bridesmaid said, smacking her arm.

“Right! Right, sorry!”

You giggled, looking into Satoru’s cerulean eyes. “I'm being summoned. I should get going.” Gojo snorted, leaning down and kissing you on the lips. “I'll see you later.”

“Uhm, excuse me.” Mina had a disgusted look on her face. “What the fuck was that lame-ass kiss?” Your other friends nodded in agreement. “Satoru, what the fuck? Don't you like Y/N?”

“Of course, I like my girlfriend Mina.”

“Then kiss her like you mean it!!”

You turned, giving Mina a look that could curdle dairy. “Mina, stop.” She flipped you off, her attention never leaving Satoru’s face.

“If I don't get to go to a strip club, I wanna see a steamy kiss!” The other girls whistled and cheered. “I want it steamy! I'm talking smutty romance-level shit!”

“Mina!”

“What you both are hot as fuck! Consider it a wedding gift!!”

“Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!!”

Oh great, now your drunken friends were chanting, and bystanders were watching. With a grimace, you turned to the very amused Satoru, who stared down at the drunken girls before his gaze fixed on you. He shrugged a shoulder as if saying, sure, why not? But he left the decision up to you.

While you were tempted not to make your poor pretend boyfriend a walking spectacle for a group of drunk women. The thought of having to listen to them bitch and moan about you being a party pooper was way worse. So you sighed before turning to face Satoru with a smile.

“You heard them. If we do this, I can return the dish set we bought.”

“You don't have to tell me twice.”

Satoru grabbed you by the throat, pinning you against the wall of the bar. His lips slammed against yours in a heated kiss you'd only seen in movies. His tongue was licking your bottom lip, and you so willingly obliged, opening your mouth, allowing his tongue entrance. Satoru trailed the hand that was around your throat down your curves. His large hand gripped your hips as he growled. Fuck he tasted so good, like cola and vanilla candy. Your tongue moved against his, trying to taste more of him.

While you tasted like strawberries and chocolate to him, it was like a symphony of tastes between your tongues. One that he didn't want to end, his knee pushed its way between your legs, pressing firmly over your clothes core, making you gasp into his mouth, eyes going wide as the intimate touch. Your moan only made Satoru kiss you harder, desperate to feel the vibrations from the desperate sounds escaping your mouth.

“Whoa! Okay! Okay!” Mina shouted, her wine spilling as she hurried forward. “I said kiss her! Not fuck her in public.” Your best friend playfully swatted at his arm.

When Satoru broke the kiss, a string of saliva connected your bottom lips as you both gasped for air. The sheer intensity of the kiss rendered you speechless as he allowed his eyes to trail over your face. Taking in the flush tint of your cheeks, the way your body trembled under his hand, and the subtle way your hips rocked forward against his thigh. It looked like the kiss had as much of an effect on you as it did on him.

He pressed a soft kiss against your slightly swollen lips. “You did ask for a smutty book kiss.” Satoru sighed as he pulled away. “I just delivered what you asked for.” Mina said something along the lines of ‘smutty kiss without the smut, please’ as she headed back into the bar. “Well, she might not have enjoyed it, but at least you seemed like you did.” His teasing tone slowly brought you back to reality.

”Y-Yeah, it was lovely.” You fanned yourself before heading to follow after your friends. “I’ll see you later tonight.” You breathed out, but just before you could make it inside the door, Satoru grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a hug.

”Call me when you’re done, and I’ll come get you, okay?”

”Okay.”

His lips were against yours again before he released you. “Okay.” He repeated your word back to you before waving you off as he headed back in the direction of the inn.

His kiss, the tone of voice, and the mere conversation of introducing him to his best friend whirled around your mind as you guzzled down a shot of sake, which had to have been the fifth one in the last forty minutes. While the other bridal party members were laughing and talking, you stared at the table. The kiss and Satoru’s words replayed over and over again in your head, like old sitcom reruns.

Was it normal for an escort to tell a client they wanted to introduce them to their friends? Was he just being friendly or taking pity on you? Then there was that kiss outside of the bar! He didn’t have to put his knee between your legs, but he did! Now your panties were wet, and the more you thought about the kiss, about him, the wetter they seemed to get.

Holy shit, what was wrong with you!?

Just three days ago, you told the guy you didn’t have sex; you didn’t need it. But the more you got to know him, the more times he kissed you, the more your icy resolve began to melt. Gojo Satoru was lighting a fire within you. One that you were very cautious of because you didn’t want to be burned again.

You got up from the table, swaying as you headed for the bathroom. Was Satoru just being nice? Or did he feel the same way you did? There was some sort of connection between the two of you. One that you might want to explore if he wants to as well. Why else would he talk to you the way that he did?

Entering the bathroom, you sighed, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your fingers trailed over your still-swollen lip. Toji had never kissed you like that in the past. Staring in the mirror, you groaned. An image of Toji stood behind you, haunting you like he had done for the last year and a half.

“Ugh, just get the fuck out of my head and let me heal already.” You scolded the image of him in the mirror, flipping it off.

”I’m in your head?”

Your heart stopped, and your hand dropped to your side. Toji’s image smirked as he tilted his head. You were getting ready to ask yourself how drunk you were when Toji moved. His hands landed on the sink, caging you in while the smell of cedarwood engulfed you like a cloud of smoke.

”Toji—!”

“Shut up, we need to talk.”

(TBC)

Taglist:

@arminloverlol @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira

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bloodstainedhair · 4 months

Text

Holiday Season

pairing. obsessed 141 / polar bear-hybrid reader *scenario/headcanons

note. gender neutral reader. reader is physically described to be 6ft or over. common hybrid features such as animal ears, tail, nose, claws, and paw pads.

cw. unhealthy relationships/yandere themes, meat and blood mentions, a lot of eating from hands mentions, a weird type of infantilization, big bad bear is called cute a stupid amount of times, dangerous but passive reader, vague made-up base because i watch too many movies.

Holed up in the middle of fucking nowhere, Alaska, the white wasteland. That's how the 141 were going to spend the merry month of December. Endless snow in sight and no family to be found. A complete and utter joke of a holiday season.

It scarcely matters, the food that's been stored, the dense furniture they've been given, even the solace they find in each other. It's miserable out here. The freeze is always licking at their skin, seeping through their layered clothes to cling to the exposed nape. It's their constant company.

Yet, something else bothers them. A hint that only their trained eyes could catch in their misery. An entity, perhaps, something that follows the men without rest. It's a shadow of winter, blanketing itself around the base and leaving its warmth with no trace to its next destination. Only something another human could pull off.

Dishes left strewn on the counter are returned to their cupboards, clean and scrubbed. Leftovers are consistently missing a bite more than what Soap remembers wolfing the night before. If a blanket or pillow goes missing, best bet it doesn't come back. It doesn't take much convincing for Price to round up his boys to find out the root of their question. Not when they've nothing else to do.

It's Soap who finds you first. Rummaging through the fridge with a plastic container in your hands, that adorable black nose covered in spaghetti sauce. He wonders how they didn't hear you sooner with the way you carelessly scarf down the contents. You remind him a little of himself...

Little round ears perk up at the sound of his gasp. Soap freezes in place as your head cranes back to inspect him. Eyes staring at him with indifference, a lone noodle stuck to your cheek and tomato red staining your considerably large teeth. Sharp and big, enough to poke out from your mouth and dig into your chapped bottom lip. A similarly large grayish-blue tongue swipes out to clean the damning evidence.

So. Fucking. Cute.

Johnny is thanking the names of every God he knows when you let him lead you by hand to his team. A new warmth flows through his body, lighting up his dormant nerves in the winter night, your thick black claws prodding into his rough skin. You must be a docile ol' thing, obediently following him to his buddies, though only after he bribes you with more meals to come. He'll cook up the whole damn kitchen if it means you trail him like this daily.

Ghost is sure that Johnny's the one hiding furry ears and a tail when he rushes over like a dog with a fresh new bone. That, and he's more crazy than he imagined dragging over what looks to be a six foot something polar bear hybrid right his way. Ghost doesn't forget things easily, and he's confident that said bears are known to be the most eager predators in the presence of flesh. Not just by circumstance, no, by nature.

A strange thought does pop up in head. That fluffy white tail you sport catches his eye for longer than he'd like to admit. He wonders. If he offered up a nice, raw chunk of seal to you, would it wag in anticipation? Would your ears twitch at the sounds of his boots crunching in the snow, bringing you yet another delicious catch? He could be the perfect provider for you, he thinks. Maybe even have you hunt alongside him, a bonding ritual of sorts. Blood all over your mouth, allowing only Simon to dab away at your chin with a towel. What a sight to behold. Two predators in the same room.

Gaz takes a step away before doing the exact opposite a minute later. You're not just some wild animal, and he's half worried he just disrespected you to your face (you didn't see it). Any bit of nervousness he had melts away when you gently push your nose into his warm hands. He was going for a handshake, but this is surprisingly preferred. Seems he missed wiping some the cocoa from a recent pot of hot chocolate. He hadn't expected you to be so... soft. If you want more, he's got a heap of cookies hidden away in his room. No issue with you visiting him for a late night snack. Christ, he'll even handfeed you if you're feeling lazy, no worries.

Captain Price nearly drops the flimsy cup of coffee held in his gloved hands. Fucking giant thing you are. He nearly drops it again when your nose takes a sharp turn to the smell of his beverage. Not picky, are you... He'll keep note of that for later. From the looks of it, you're adapting well to the chaos of his batch, sniffing and patiently waiting for Soap to release you from his iron grip on your paw pad. He also takes note of what your wearing almost immediately, Arctic grade parka wrapped around your waist in favor of standard workwear, more akin to a jumpsuit than winter gear. Unbelievable. However, that does explain it now. You work here.

It makes sense, considering you're one of the more volatile hybrids. So many people, including your bosses, are uneasy about the predators. It must've been particularly bad for you. Hiding you away in a big and lonely base to eat dinner at an empty table. The world unable to appreciate you for what you are.

Price on the other hand, he knows his boys like the back of his hand. They understand your type. Would take you in without judgement or fear. Indulge you. Feed you fat red meat from calloused palms and let you lap at the warm blood still dripping on the snow. Gladly clean the droplets that stain your pure white parka. Make you warm.

#btw i genuinely love winter. it is literally the only season that makes me happy. fuck you summer (is born in july)#mine #yandere #yandere cod

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eufezco · 1 year

Text

SUMMARY - you're a little jealous of Tess.

a little smut at the end(?? english isn't my first language <33

"You know it's very obvious, right?" You heard Frank talk behind you. Even though Bill and Frank insisted that it was not necessary for you to do the dishes, you insisted on helping them. They prepared this delicious meal for you three and there was no way you were leaving without doing something for them in return. In front of you was the window from which you could see Tess and Joel still sitting at the table. The day was sunny and Joel's golden skin was glowing in the sunlight. You tried to concentrate on scrubbing the plates but you could feel his eyes on you and you couldn't help but look at him back. Tess was talking to him while he finished eating.

"Don't tell her that when it's not, Frank." Bill joined you two in the kitchen.

"No, but it is, Bill. It's in the way you look at him, you know? Your eyes do that thing and your lips curve up a bit. Not in like a big smile but in like an I'm-so-in-love-with-you one."

"It's not obvious, Frank's just dramatic. Don't worry."

"I'm just saying it's noticeable."

"What are you even talking about?" You dried your hands and turned around so you could see them both.

"You and Joel." Frank stated.

"He wants nothing to do with me, okay?"

"Oh, so he knows."

"I wish he didn't, but yes, he knows."

"Why?"

"Frank-"

"I tried to kiss him."

"You did what?"

"Oh, fuck."

"It's her fault! She likes him too and they're like super close but he only sees her as a friend. If he wasn't so worry about hurting her feelings, I could have him. He told me that." You turned around to the sink again. You grabbed a glass and started scrubbing violently. Your eyes moved from the sink to the window and back, the smirk Joel had on his lips while talking with Tess was getting on your nerves.

"So he feels the same way about you."

"At least he did a week ago. I found her in his bed a couple of days ago. She was fucking big spooning him, Frank, can you believe that?"

"Oh, absolutely not."

"I'm sure it's not only about Tess." Bill intervened in the conversation.

"What do you mean?"

"Tess told me he lost people. He's obviously scared of forging a bond with you beyond friendship because he doesn't know what tomorrow may be like and if he could lose you as well."

"Shit... how do you know that? Did he tell you?"

"He knows because he was just like that." Frank answered for him.

You sighed. "I'm so jealous of you two."

You went back to the yard and sat with Tess and Joel at the table. They were discussing whether they should agree to do business with Bill and Frank. You couldn't care less about what your two friends were talking about. You threw your head back and closed your eyes, hearing their conversation but mostly enjoying the fresh air of the sunset hitting your skin. You were the one that connected over the radio with them. Luckily it was Frank the one that got your message, if it was Bill you wouldn't be sitting there, with your stomach full of the most exquisite food you'd ever tried and feeling the freshly cut grass under your feet.

"I am spending the night here."

The two of them stopped talking. Tess looked at Joel to see his reaction and Joel shook his head immediately. "The three of us are going back to the QZ."

"No. I'm staying here. FEDRA won't know that I'm gone, I don't have work tomorrow."

Joel threw a quick glance at Bill and Frank inside the house. He had been very hesitant the two times you'd met with them, still not trusting enough the two men to leave you alone with them. Even though he knows that you'd spent hours talking with Frank on the radio. You rolled your eyes when you realized it was because of them. "Oh, come on."

"No. No 'Oh, come on.' You're coming with us. Tell them we really appreciate this nice meal, everything was delicious but we should leave before it gets dark-" He said as he got up from the table. Tess was quick to lay one of her hands on top of Joel's. She called his name and he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sat down on his chair again.

"Stay here with her. I will go back to the QZ." Tess knew that it was impossible to change your mind. She was already trying to find other options that would please Joel. That was much easier.

"I have work to do in the morning."

"I'll cover you. You'll be fine."

Joel huffed, looking at you and running a hand through his face. You smiled at him, victorious, but he was upset at your attitude. You truly did not see how dangerous it was, not only for FEDRA to find you out of the QZ, but also for you to stay at some random dudes' house?

"Let us know over the radio when you arrive."

"This is so nice. We could never go back to the QZ." You said letting yourself fall onto the bed and sighing. Joel closed the door behind him and left his gun on the nightstand, a place where it would be within reach in case he needed to use it. He sat on the bed, starting to question why he didn't drag you back to the QZ. "I'm serious Joel, we could stay here. There are enough houses, you can choose the one you like the most and we could-"

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" You held your body up with your elbows and your eyebrows came together after hearing Joel talking to you like that. He turned his body slightly towards you so he could make eye contact. "Sometimes I don't know if you mean what you say or if you just spit out every fucking thought that goes through your head."

"What is this all about? Why are you so determined to go back to the QZ? Is it because of her?"

Joel huffed and got up from the bed. "You are- This is unbelievebable."

"Or is it because you have so much to lose there? It would be a pity if you did not come back, Joel. Everyone would miss you so much."

Joel ran his hand through his face out of desperation. He paced around the room while you talked. You rolled your eyes, letting your body fall on the mattress again. "So it is because of her."

"She's my family! Of course it's because of her!" He yelled at you, approaching you with a threatening attitude. You got up from the bed and as angry as he was, you asked him.

"And what am I? Am I not your family?" You clenched your jaw.

Joel chuckled and massaged his temples. "I didn't say that." Anger quickly crept back into his body, one of his fingers pointed at you, and his other hand rested on his waist. "You do not get to twist my words in that way!"

"Seriously, Joel? That's the only problem you see here? Because the real issue is that you don't have enough balls to tell her the truth and that's the only reason why things are working this bad for us!"

"Oh please, if you could act like a fucking adult for once in your life and have a little empathy..."

"I can't do that! I just can't do that because if I don't think of myself who will? Will you do it? Because we have already seen that you won't!"

He couldn't believe what you were saying. Joel closed his eyes while you talked and clenched his jaw to the point it hurt. "I think about you! You are my priority! Every hour of the day, you are my priority! From the moment I open my eyes in the morning until I go to sleep at night-"

"You're always so worried about how she may feel about us, but what about me? How do you think this situation makes me feel?"

"I'm pretty sure it makes you feel the same way it makes me feel."

You huffed a laugh and then you rolled your eyes at him. You walked past him to leave the room. "No. You are not going anywhere. I'm not done talking." Joel grabbed your arm and kept you from opening the door. His grip on your arm brought you face-to-face with him. He wanted to keep arguing with you, he still had a lot of things to say, but at that moment both of your breaths were deep as a result of the agitated discussion and they mixed to the point of becoming one. Joel cupped both of your cheeks and crashed his lips into yours. Your back hit the door, causing Bill and Frank who were on the other side listening to jump backward.

"Oh, fuck..." You sighed and your hands caressed his broad shoulders and slid down to his chest. He was beautiful, your hands couldn't get enough of him. After caressing the freckles that decorated his skin and the scars on his chest, your hands moved to his belly and quickly slipped into his pants. Joel gasped against your lips, and a playful smirk appeared in yours right before he kissed you again to quiet his own sounds.

"We should-" Frank said after being able to hear the wet sounds of the kiss and your sweet hums through the door.

"Yes." Bill agreed with him inmediatly.

The next morning you woke up between Joel's arms, your legs tangled with his and Joel's gentle breathing enticing you to stay in bed instead of going to have breakfast. You shifted in place, careful enough to not wake him up. You slid his big t-shirt over your head and stole from him the pajama pants that Bill and Frank had lent him.

Frank's eyes sparkled as soon as he saw you enter the kitchen. "You have to tell us everything right now." He moved back a chair so you could sit next to him while Bill placed a cup of coffee on the table in front of you and you smiled at him in gratitude. You bit your lower lip, trying to hide how happy you were and Frank huffed a laugh "You bitch. It was good."

You nodded, taking a sip from your cup. The smile never leaving your lips. "It was amazing. He is so rough yet so soft, just like I told you I thought he would be. His hands are- ugh, so magical, and his lips are so good that I can still feel them. And his d-"

"We don't need all those details, thank you." Bill rushed to say, sitting at the table with you. Interested in what you were saying but not that interested.

"Oh yes, we need them." Frank huffed another laugh, seeing your devilish expression wanting to go on with what you had started.

"No, you don't." Joel's said entering the kitchen with his deep morning voice.

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last-words-ofashootingstar · 25 days

Text

Allure

Part Two:Knuckle Velvet

❥MATZ x fem reader

Part One(Sunshine)

Part Three(Smoke)

➯a/n: i'm so glad people like this story, i've spent so much time on it and it's a labor of love, enjoy part two <33 if you're new here, part one is very much needed to understand what's going on and please read the warnings and take care of yourself ! if you didn't see my update, i lost the final draft of part three and now only have a paper draft so apologies that it will take a little bit to be uploaded ❤️‍🩹

✃ "Mind, body, soul, and wolf."

♫"Nothing hurts like the way you do; like the way you say "I love you." " -Knuckle Velvet, Ethel Cain♫Allure Soundtrack

✫彡wordcount: 6.9k

(>ᴗ•)♡´･ᴗ･`♡genre: smut, YANDERE, a/b/o au

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: DEAD DOVE I MURDERED THAT BEOTCH chapter specific: not beta read(ironically), criminal MATZ, alpha MATZ/omega reader, forced soul bonding, forced marking, nobody is mentally well, yandere and possessive behavior, talk of murder, talk of drugs, bits of humor because i was going insane, smoking 🍃, sh in the form of putting joints out on skin(NOT READER, NOT DESCRIPTIVE), reckless driving(is that a warning?), reader needs a hug like honestly-

cunnilingus, nudity, heat cycle, outdoor, fingering, THIS IS NOT A NON CON FIC, ALL SMUT IS CONSENSUAL.

⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

⁂fic taglist: @potatomountain @spooo00oky @choichaeyiul @cheynalexilaiho @haven-cove @hwasbabygirl @gong-fourz @chaotic-floral @hyukssunflower @unlikelysublimekryptonite @tinybada @sunnyhokyu @calisnewworld @elysiangroundsforall

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

˚➶ ｡˚ PART TWO ˚➶ ｡˚

Something is wrong.

The warmth of your bed calls you back to sleep as you stir.

Something is wrong.

The smell of cooking pancakes wafts through the air, your stomach churns in interest.

Something is wrong.

The hand on your side is so soft it's almost fleeting.

Something is wrong.

Your eyes snap open, blurry vision landing on an unfortunately familiar set of features. Long brown hair, full lips in a seemingly perpetual line, thick letters on his neck.

You let out a scream as your body catches up with your mind, kicking Seonghwas arm and crawling back into the corner of your bed. "Sleep well? I sure hope so, Hongjoong nearly cried because you didn't get to mark him back before you passed out." His calm demeanor is the very antithesis of your state; frazzled and heart beating wildly in your ears. "I'm not too pleased with waiting either."

You go to pull the blanket over yourself again when he rips it off the bed completely. "G-go away, or else..." Your weak attempt at a threat makes the criminal grin, and he stands from his squatting position, looming over your cowering form.

"Oh you don't know how deep in you are, do you?" He purrs, crawling onto the mattress. It creaks pitifully under his weight as he moves ever closer.

He stops just short of being right in your face. "We own you. And when you stop this little tantrum, mark us back... you own us. A little thing like you, been on that blocker for God knows how long, you won't last but a few more hours until you're running to us with your tail between your legs. Hormones flooding your system, begging for your alphas...Begging for your mates." His eyes flick to your bruised shoulders, their marks peeking out of your scrubs. "Don't make us wait too long now, omega. We aren't patient men."

"Hwa!"

He leans away from you, yelling back to the voice, "what?!" His booming voice makes you jump, and take a deathly tight grip your pillow.

"Food!"

He looks back to you, and it's as if you can tell what he's thinking. You shake your head, slapping his hand away when he goes to grab your wrist. "C'mon now, you won't want an empty stomach when we mate-" He's cut off when a pillow hits his head, leaving him to let out an exasperated sigh.

Hongjoong turns around just as Seonghwa rounds the corner with your fidgeting form over his shoulder. "Hey, Dolly!" He greets casually, like this is an everyday occurrence, as he sets down the plate he's holding next to the other two on your little round table.

"Help! Help me!" You scream, gasping as you're quite literally thrown in a chair.

"No use in that," Hongjoong begins as he sits opposite of you, "no one will hear you. We cleared this place out. If they aren't dead, they're in the prison with our pack."

Your eyes well with tears. You don't doubt his words for a second. Massacring and holding a town hostage wouldn't even be on the top three of their crimes.

You take a shaking breath and gather yourself, glaring at the blonde silently. "Oh are you mad?" He asks teasingly. "We made ourselves comfy, hope you don't mind! Lovely little place you've got here."

You choose to stay silent, not trusting your own voice as it wavers even in your head.

"Eat up," Seonghwa pushes one of the plates to you, but Hongjoong snatches it back, eyeing you as you eye it.

It's been a full day since you've eaten, judging by the rising sun in the window. And you silently curse yourself for skipping lunch.

"Something you need to do first, Dolly." He taps his neck, a small grin playing at his lips as he notices your eyebrows push together. He wishes he could crawl into your head and see all of those thoughts that are undoubtedly suffocating you.

And they are. Your lungs feel heavy as you weigh every option against one another. You could run- but you've never outran an alpha, let alone two. You could hide- but that didn't work too well in the prison. You could simply refuse to return the bite- but the last wolf who did that was turned inside out, literally. You could simply cry and hope for their mercy- but you knew it would never come.

Your chair scratches the hardwood under it as you slowly push yourself away from the table. You notice you're missing your shoes as you trudge the few feet that feel like miles.

Hongjoongs head is eagerly turned to the untainted side, Seonghwa's mark mirrored to where you must leave yours.

You attempt to tune out the joyous howling of your wolf, tell her this is not a good thing. But she doesn't care. All she says is-

Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate.

You wince as your canines push through your gums unannounced, lip snarling upward to give them room.

Seonghwa watches with a sadistic glint in his eye as you bend forward, tears building up in your own.

You hate to admit that Hongjoong, both of them really, smell wonderful. But your wolf sure doesn't, she only chants louder.

Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate.

Your anxious breathes fan against his neck, goosebumps arising in response and anticipation.

His heart is skipping beats. You're so close that you can hear it.

Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate.

With a quick movement, your teeth are sunk into his flesh, forever bonding you.

˚➶ ｡˚

The searing water pelts your back. Steam swirls in the air. Your cries and sniffles echo on the linoleum tile.

After marking both alphas you didn't have much appetite but, after helping you rinse your mouth, Hongjoong had made you eat everything on your plate before he let you run to the bathroom and lock yourself in.

Despite the pull in his gut, the urge to break down the door and comfort you, Hongjoong had forced himself to leave. He couldn't listen to your cries, even if he was the cause of them.

That left the older alpha alone in your humble living room. He tuned his ears to focus on the rainfall, the rolling thunder, the periodic knocking of your air conditioning, anything but the sound of your sorrow.

You don't quite find it in yourself to care who is or isn't in your home, you find yourself with a much more immediate problem.

Seonghwa was right.

You feel heat bubbling to life in your lower stomach, slowly consuming the ball of anxiety that resides there. Your wolf is loud. She won't shut up. Mate this, mate that, knot this, and knot that. You wish with every ounce of your being that she wouldn't be such a primal animal, but that's much like expecting a wild animal to be house trained.

You find your tears slowly drying, washed away from your cheeks by the ever falling water.

You hadn't had a heat in a good long while. And now you were mated to two alphas? Seonghwa was right, and you are beyond fucked. You'd never even had a partner during a heat.

A whimper trembles past your lips without your consent, small and pathetic much like how you feel.

You go to grip the knobs, gasping as you see your claws. They look thicker than before, darker as well. You bring them to your face, turning your hand over and inspecting them. "What..."

A knock at the door startles you enough to grab the tub, new and improved nails leaving indents on the acrylic fiberglass. "(Y/n)? Don't get too hot, the steam is coming out into the hall."

"Go away!" You squeeze your eyes shut, praying Seonghwa didn't hear the sorry crack in your voice.

Your prayers, much like yesterday, go unanswered, unheard. "Are you okay in there? I know... I know the situation isn't ideal-"

"Shut up!" You growl, hand immediately slapped to your mouth in shock of your own outburst. The quiet is eating you alive, making you wish the raining water above you would somehow drown you.

"I'm coming in."

"No! Just fucking leave me alone." Your eyes are wide at the sound of your own voice once again. You, your body is curled into the corner of the tub wanting to disappear and become one with the tiles below you. You, your mouth is loud and proud with your anger.

He opens the lock with his claw, breaking your deceptive sense of privacy. The stream rises into the hall in a thick fog, obscuring his vision. He tries to look for your outline behind the shower curtain but he finds nothing. When a small sniff sounds, his eyes flick to the source. The shadow of a curled up body.

When he grab the curtain, your voice comes out quietly. "Please don't touch me."

"I won't." He speaks shortly, opening the fabric just enough to turn off the water. Immediately, with no sound to drown it out, he hears your irregular heartbeat. "I won't," he says with a voice soft with promise.

The silence drapes you both, listening closely to one another for any sign of movement or speech.

Your ears are perked up, eyes wide and wild as you watch his silhouette take a seat on the closed toilet. He seems to be watching you as well.

"You're in heat." He breaks the hush with a punch. It's not a question, more so it's an observation from his sharp senses.

"Yes." You whisper back.

"How long since you had your last one? That blocker was in there deep." His voice holds something like quiet empathy, which makes your wolf want to crawl to him even more. You try to calculate the years to give him a good estimate of how bad this will get, but your brain feels too hot in your head.

"Long," is all you can muster up.

The quiet blankets you again, the only sound the raging storm outside. A clap of thunder makes you jerk, wrapping your clawed hands around yourself for a sense of comfort.

His hand comes through the gap in the curtain, holding your large fluffy towel. You take it with an almost silent thank you, wrapping it around your shoulders as you stay seated.

He watches the steam dissipate, surveying your small bathroom. The tub and shower which currently holds you takes up the short wall. The toilet he sits on has a soft fabric covering on the lid, the short blue yarn matches the color of the walls and the striped curtain. Your medicine cabinet has small little flowers painted on it with an obviously careful hand. Your products on the counter are organized in re-used plastic containers. Your clothes are set on the edge and awaiting you.

He wonders what you'll do to their home when it becomes yours as well.

When you shuffle, he looks back to your distorted form. Slowly standing, you clear your throat. "Can you, uhm..."

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," he mutters as he stands, closing the door behind him.

Taking a peek around the drape, you make sure he's really gone before you step out and quickly dry yourself off, blinking away the tears that start to build again.

With a fresh outfit on and having scrubbed off as much of them as you could, you step out of the bathroom for the first time in hours. Hongjoongs scent is weak, making you briefly wonder where he went as you tip toe around your own home.

The door to your room is still ajar, but a glimpse inside shows no sign of the alpha who's smell is still strong. The sound of the TV draws you out to the compact living room. There, you can see the back of his head as he faces the box television, watching a rerun of Starsky and Hutchy.

He says nothing as you sit down, and you say nothing back. He's not paying attention, and neither are you. But neither of you dare speak first.

˚➶ ｡˚

How you fell asleep, you have no idea. But the slam of the front door makes you jump awake, grabbing the nearest object which happens to be Seonghwas forearm.

He places his hand on yours wordlessly and turns to see whoever has the nerve to wake you. "Mingi?" He groans after a moment of reflection.

The strange man in your home, Mingi, is tall, taller than Seonghwa- and it makes you cower into the alpha subconsciously. He shakes the rain water out of his short pink hair in a way akin to a dog after a bath, unbothered by the glare and the wide eyes on him. "Hey!"

"What are you-"

"Joong sent me," he lifts up a duffel bag with a grin, kicking his shoes off as to not drag mud into your home and piss off his alphas mate. "Hi," he smiles more politely towards you as he slowly approaches, noticing your arms tremor.

"You forget how to knock?" Seonghwa grumbles as he stands, hand hesitantly leaving your own as he walks behind the couch to join the man.

"Well I didn't hear anything, I figured you were sleeping or something." He shrugs simply as he sits the bag on the sewing machine you use as a desk.

"We were, asshat." The brotherly bickering of the pack mates makes you smile, and you hide your lips in the cushion as you watch them carefully from you backwards seating on the couch.

The pink haired man's attention lands on you as Seonghwa looks through the clothes in the bag. "Hi, 'm Mingi," he smiles kindly, holding his hand out to you only for it to be smacked down quickly by Seonghwa with a glare. "Uhm, rude," he rolls his eyes with a clear playfulness.

"No touching," he huffs shortly, eyes flicking back to you. "He touches you, I cut off his fingers. I'm going to shower." He leans over the back off the couch and lifts your face out of the fabric gently, taking your lips in his possessively, leaving you flabbergasted as he leaves as quick as he came.

Mingi whistles lowly as the bathroom door closes, chuckling at your starstruck expression. "This fuckin' guy, am I right?" He jokes, smiling awkwardly as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. "I'm an omega too, don't worry. I know it's scary coming across new wolves when you're like us, not knowing..."

You nod silently, eyeing him up for any sign of danger. But you only find him shivering. "You want a towel or something...?"

"Oh, if it's not any trouble," he smiles again, the gummy nature of it reminds you of Jihyun, and you find a lot of your nerves draining away. He's an omega like you, so you have a fair chance against him. And despite everything, you doubt Seonghwa would let anyone hurt you, let alone someone from his own pack.

You sneak by him quickly and into the closet in the hall next to the bathroom, where you can hear the water running.

"Here you go," you hand it over before taking a seat again, turning backwards on the couch to keep an eye on him as he towels off his hair.

Starsky and Hutch keeps the silence from being too stiff, but it's clear Mingi has a lot of words on his tongue fighting to come out as he dries his arms.

"Do-"

"Is-"

"Sorry," you both mumbles as you speak over each other. You motion to the seat next to you and he takes it with a quick, "thanks."

"So," you begin, tucking your knees under your chin, "he's your alpha?"

"Both of them, they lead together." He nods as he speaks, looking around your home.

"That's weird," you mumble to yourself, picking at the string on your sock, "how does that work?"

"Well... I mean they just kind of lead us all together. Make decisions together, it's not a dictatorship actually- they let us vote on stuff sometimes, it's nice. I'm sure you'll come to understand our pack, we're just a bit... different."

"How did, uh, I mean I've heard some stuff, I dunno-"

"You can ask me. I know those two probably weren't very talkative."

"Yeah," you chuckle quietly, taking a peek at him, "they made their own pack, right? How did you end up here?"

He looks back at you and slowly relaxes in his seat, both of you growing more comfortable as your wolves sniff one another out. "Yeah, that's right. They didn't roll up on a village like this and say, 'who's the strongest, let's fight', like most alphas come to be. They found each of us and asked us to join, didn't just demand it. I was one of the first, actually. They found me stealing some food in Minnesota, told me pledge my loyalty and I'll never be cold or hungry again."

"And?"

"Hm?"

"Have you been?"

"Never," he shakes his head, "they're good alphas. Maybe not the best people, but good alphas. I'm sorry you had to join us this way... they can be a bit impulsive, impatient." His eyes are low and voice even lower, like he's trying to hide his words from the man who's most definitely listening in. "They aren't monsters, at least not the kind the news makes them out to be. They're the monsters the world shaped them into."

You feel his wolf calling out to yours, albeit weakly. You've never felt it before. Is it because you're finally apart of a real pack? Because you're his alphas mate? Your eyes flick to your wolves and his follow suit, a pink color that matches his hair.

"Mingi." His voice breaks your small staring competition, both of you looking to him. He looks a lot different on his own clothes, and it makes your annoyingly loud wolf even louder. His forearm sleeve and neck tattoo is on show in his dark grey wifebeater, finally freed from the long sleeve orange top. The marks on his shoulders are out and proud as well. His bell bottom jeans make his long legs look even longer, like he's more than half leg. His inked up fingers work nimbly to buckle his belt. That's when you finally look away, sinful thoughts flooding your head thanks to your building heat.

"Has Hongjoong come up with a plan with the rest of you?"

You don't register that he's come up to the couch until he's picking you up. You grab onto his shoulders and bite your lip as you yelp.

"He says we should just sneak attack their camp, Jongho's been able to sus out their location with his-" Mingi clears his throat to stop himself as Seonghwa sends him a glare while he sits, settling you in his lap. "With some intel... says they only have two scouts at a time."

You curl up on yourself, breathing deeply- which turns out to be a grave mistake. Seonghwas sandalwood scent floods you all at once, the musky smell of the prison washed away. A wave of arousal hits you like the one in the shower, and he squeezes you closer to his chest.

"He'll tell me about it later, go on and go back to the prison and tell him come back."

"Wha-"

"Go now."

"Yup, yeah, I'm gone." Mingi jumps up, leaving the towel on the couch as he dashes to the door, disappearing with a quick, "later!"

You try to scramble away the second the door shuts, but the alpha grabs your ankle and pins you to the couch. "Please, please!" You shake your head while sniveling, quieted when he cups the back of your neck softly.

"Calm down, omega," he whispers, keeping his weight off of you, "you need us to get rid of that heat, you know that don't you?"

You nod dreadfully, burying your face in the cushion. "I don't want-"

"Tell me what you want, and that's what I will do. Nothing more. I won't force you to do anything but I won't let you suffer in your heat, do you understand?"

"Yes..."

"Do you want me to let you go?"

Despite yourself, you whisper, "no..."

"Tell me how to help you. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you want, omega, and I will give it to you."

˚➶ ｡˚

By the time Hongjoong crashes through the front door clumsily, both of you are gone from the couch. A trail of torn clothes and the call of soft moans lead him to your bedroom, the door open wide to provide him a beautiful view.

You, in your bra and nearly nothing else. Legs spread around Seonghwas shoulders and socked toes curling into the bed. Your sharp teeth out and peeking through your lips as they part with a moan.

Seonghwa, kneeling and back arched as he anchors himself between your legs, forearms wrapped around your thighs. His tank top rising up to expose the ink on his lower back. Low, muffled moans rumble in his throat.

"Started without me?" He asks smugly after he catches his breath from the overwhelming scene.

Seonghwas head snaps back at the intruder, eyes red and jaw slick- but he goes right back to his meal, making you yip in surprise. Your eyes stay locked on his, lit aglow just like the alphas between your legs. Your chest rises and falls with bated breathes.

"Hongj-ah!" You grip the straps of Seonghwas top, eyes squeezing shut as you whine.

Your logic and reasoning went out the window the second Seonghwas eyes turned red with lust. Now, you let your wolf get what she wants for the time being. You forgot how badly heats burn.

Your bed dips and creaks with the additional weight as the younger alpha joins you. You feel his breath over the healing mark he left, followed by a lick which makes you gasp.

Every touch both extinguishes the burn and makes it hotter.

"You smell so good," Hongjoong coos into your neck, hands slowly wrapping around your waist, "will you let me have a taste too?"

"Y-yes!" You nod eagerly, fidgeting under his light touches until a slender hand presses down on your stomach to keep you in place, followed by a growl.

"I'm not done, am I, omega? I thought you wanted to cum on my tongue? That's what you asked for, after all," Seonghwa teases as he pulls back, free hand playing with the slick between your thighs. He watches with a smirk as you nod, over and over. "Yeah?"

"Yeah! Please, Seonghwa!" You feel a pinch in your gut as you beg for the criminal, but it's washed away with another surge of pleasure. A soft hand on your cheek makes you push your eyes open, coming face to face with Hongjoong.

"Poor omega," he pouts as he traces your jaw, "those blockers are good for nothing, only cause problems. We'll take good care of you, don't worry. Anything you want, Doll. Anything at all."

Your request is wordless. A pull at his belt loop with your clawed finger.

˚➶ ｡˚

You're fast asleep with your heat satisfied for the time being, sandwiched between the two alphas in your small bed. They keep quiet, enjoying the moment. They know that when you awake without your heat blurring your mind, you'll be distant again.

And they don't blame you.

Mingi was right, they're impulsive. They wanted you and they got you the second they could. They'll do whatever they can to make you realize you're meant to be their omega, their mate. They'll build the trust one step at a time, they just had to make sure you wouldn't slip away in the meantime.

Your breathes are slow and steady, deep in the hands of exhaustion. One of your legs is hooked across Hongjoongs hips, the other tangled in Seonghwas bell bottoms. Your arms are wrapped around the blondes neck, head buried in his shoulder.

Seonghwa has one arm tucked under both of your heads, fingers twirling Hongjoongs hair mindlessly as he holds a joint between his lips, inhaling deeply and letting the smoke out slowly. His pants are undone and underwear clumsily pulled back up.

Hongjoong has his eyes closed peacefully, though he's not sleeping. He's listening intently to your heart beats, enjoying the familiar smell of his alphas smoking and the feeling of your naked body clinging to his.

"Leave tomorrow?" Seonghwa whispers hushedly, letting the smoke in his lungs out in a puff.

"The quicker we get home the better. We need to start making a real plan for that fuck face Greene." He snarls silently, pressing his nose into your hair in an attempt to calm himself.

"And make sure no one messed up while we were caged."

"They told me Yunhos been taking care of the traffic flow, we should be good on that part. I just want to get my claws bloody."

Seonghwa chuckles, rubbing his temple, "you know what's fucked? If that coward didn't rat us out, we wouldn't've found our mate."

Hongjoong cracks a small smile, cradling your unconscious body close to his chest as Seonghwa stands. "Maybe I'll go easy on him then." He smirks, watching his shoulders bounce with silent laughter as he leaves the room, a trail of smoke following him.

Seonghwa closes the bathroom door behind him, staring at his reflection. He takes the joint between his index and middle finger, leaning toward the glass.

Hongjoong was made for this world, for his world. But were you? Had they just doomed you to a pitiful existence? Did he even care if they did?

Peddling drugs and getting your claws bloody. He couldn't imagine you doing it. But he couldn't imagine letting you go.

He pulls his jeans down and his boxers leg up, snuffing out the joint on his thigh.

˚➶ ｡˚

"It ain't a crime to be good to yourself! Lick it up! Lick it up! Woooo!"

Your body is slung to the door of the van as Hongjoong drifts around the corner, the loud rock music only rivaled by his singing of it. You grab onto the passenger seat infront of you to hold yourself steady. "Does he have to be the one to drive?" You yell to Seognhwa who's in the row of seats behind you, laid across them with a grin.

"He likes to pretend he's driving The A Team van!"

The van skids to a stop infront of the prison, and you have to force yourself to look away least you think about the people who are still being held hostage inside. "C'mon up here, Doll," Hongjoong holds his hand out to you in offering, and you take it. You crawl over the cup holder in the middle and land in the passenger seat, grabbing the bag they had let you pack before dragging you away from your home.

"Where are we going?" You ask quietly, thankful that Hongjoong had the ears to be able to hear you over his cassette.

"Back to our stomping grounds," he hums as he hits the button to unlock the doors, letting in the approaching group of people. "Los Aranza, it's in sou-"

"What's up fuckers?" A young man shouts over the music as he hops into the middle row, making you jump as you look back. He smiles your way kindly, uttering a softer, "hey."

Mingi, who throws you a small smile, is climbing in next with a buffer man who immediately gives you the chills and a woman who looks like a sore thumb in the group.

Mingi gets in the back with Seonghwa and the woman ends up in the middle seat between the two other men despite her complaints.

"(Y/n), this is Wooyoung," Hongjoong introduces you to the first man, who waves your way. "Lia," the woman returns your awkward smile of a greeting. "And San," who, you don't expect to, leans over the center console and takes you in a sideways hug.

"No touching!" A grumble comes from the back, making San chuckle as he leans back into his seat.

"Nice to meet you," he grins brightly, promptly buckling his seatbelt when he hears Hongjoong start the vehicle back up.

Everyone else quickly copies his actions, and you get the memo the moment before the van lurches to life quickly.

The first few minutes are awkward silence save for the music, which Lia thankfully made the driver turn down.

"So, (Y/n)," Wooyoung starts up, "I don't want you to worry so..." You look back over your shoulder, taking a note of the small freckle under his eye as you search his features. "I just wanted to let you know that we called the state police before we left, it'll take a few hours but the rest of your village won't be stuck in there for too long."

The sentiment gives you the smallest hint of relief, knowing that they won't just be left there to wither until someone would notice that the whole town disappeared off the face of the planet. "Thanks..." You nod shortly, taking the time turned around to inspect the other new faces as well.

Lia has a seemingly familiar set of round and soft features, but you can't quite place it. Nor can you place her ranking in the group. She doesn't smell like a wolf, but you don't want to pry.

San, however, has the clear ego of a beta; chest puffed out and radiating confidence, but not power. He's got a smile that doesn't match any of that though, and that along with his friendly actions make you think he's not as scary as he presents.

You turn back around and face the road, watching the sign for your town wiz past.

"How far to Los A..."

"Aranza! Maybe like... 26 hours?" Lia's words make you look to Hongjoong, who's tapping away at the wheel as he speeds.

"Seonghwa," you call out.

"Hm?"

"Can someone else drive?"

˚➶ ｡˚

Your request was denied, obviously, and everyone had to hang on every time Hongjoong made a turn or hit a bump. Admittedly, it was fun to watch him let loose and sing his heart out while the wind knocked his hair around. That, paired with the surprisingly kind conversation that the pack members made with you made for a good first three hours.

After that, Wooyoung got grumpy. "I'm hungry!"

Then, Mingi chimed in, "I have to use the bathroom!"

Then, San, "My legs asleep! Ow, really Lia?"

When you gave Hongjoong a begging glance, that's when he finally started looking for an exit on the highway.

The mom and pop restaurant was run down and quiet, but you were thankful that that meant less people to see the rag tag team of criminals you were with and potentially cause problems. The van was parked half hazardously in the back by the restrooms, and Mingi was the first out from the back doors, practically dashing into the men's room.

You grab the handle to the passenger side door only to be grabbed on the opposite wrist. You look to the assailant and see Hongjoong with a questioning gaze. "What? I have to...go," you shrug his hand away, opening your door and hopping down before he can stop you again.

You hear some soft foot steps enter the bathroom as you hover, but they don't enter a stall. "Did they send you to babysit me," you groan, nearly slapping yourself as you speak before thinking again.

"Yeah, sorry..." Lia's voice is apologetic, and when you finally exit: her face is as well. "They can be a bit...uhm."

"Paranoid? Overbearing?"

"Yeah," she nods softly, using the mirror she stands infront of to look at you as you wash your hands. The way your shoulders slump and your head hangs low makes her heart ache for you. "I hope we can be friends. You're going to need some in this side of the world."

You look in the mirror in front of yourself, matching her stance as you watch one another through the glasses. "I hope so, too."

When you join the men back outside, they're all sitting on the curb with plastic bags infront of them. Lia sits in the space between Mingi and San, immediately grappling at the bag the ladder holds out to her. Seonghwa hands you one as well, nodding for you to take it, "yours."

Inside is two large styrofoam boxes of delicious smelling food, and you look up with your brows pressed together. "This is a lot of food, Seonghwa, I'm not going to eat all of this." You set down one as you open up the other and sit on the warm concrete between the two alphas.

"You need it, you're still in heat." He hums plainly, dropping a french fry into his mouth as San spits one out from his.

"Hey!" You yell, feeling the heat of embarrassment rising up your neck.

"What? It's true." He looks around to his pack members, seeing the three lower men looking away from you while Lia simply shakes her head at him, and Hongjoong nods.

"He's right, we didn't even fuck- ow!" He glares at Mingi as he slaps him upside the head, "we didn't! We only y'know... messed around."

"Bro, shut up!" Mingi sends you a quick compassionate glance before turning his face to his food. "You guys have zero tact."

"Tact? What the hells that?" Hongjoong mumbles from around his burger, "you made that up."

In defiance of your anger at him, his antics make you smile as you take a bite of food.

˚➶ ｡˚

The next stop the vehicle makes is in the dead of night, the spring moon full and bright.

It was only you and Hongjoong awake when you asked if their promise from earlier still stood: whatever you need and nothing more.

He was quick to peel off the road and park the sleeping group before leading you into the woods to satisfy your once again noisy wolf.

You hate that you nearly start howling aloud when he pushes your back onto a tree, hand behind your head to protect it from the bark, and begins kissing you like he did in your bed.

He takes it a step further, slipping his hand down now that Seonghwa isn't there. His lips meld into yours as he slips his hand under the elastic waistband of your shorts. They travel lower as his fingers do the same, feeling the warmth of your heat which makes him groan into your neck.

When he feels your hands on his shoulders, he closes his eyes and cherishes your touch, letting his wolf drive him forward and press his body to yours in an act of affection which makes you dizzy.

His fingers find their way inside of you, making you gasp toward the stars. His knuckles feel like balls of velvet in your overly sensitive body, driving you nearer and nearer to the cliff of pleasure your wolf desperately needs to dive off of.

Omega heats are pathetic, you think to yourself as your knees buckle: only being held up by Hongjoongs weight pressing you into the tree as he gives you satisfaction you're incapable of giving yourself.

Thankfully, all too soon, your pleasure reaches its peak and you tumble over it, gushing on his fingers and clinging to him as he kisses the healing mark his teeth left. He wraps his free arm around your back, holding your waist tightly as you tremble. "That's it, Doll..." His voice raises bumps on the flesh of your shoulder, his heavy breaths fanning them.

You can feel his length hard against you, but you're too afraid and too ashamed to acknowledge it and he knows it. But he's content with whatever you give to him in the moment, he doesn't care about his own pleasure as long as his mate is taken care of. He presses his nose into your scent and breathes deeply, letting out a growl as he feels your core clenching.

You feel a sense of dread as you come back to your head fully, watching with wide eyes as he takes his fingers from your shorts and into his mouth. You quickly look away, and hear him chuckling.

"It's okay to want us, Pretty. We're your mates. We want you just as bad."

You share a moment of sincere eye contact before your tears blur his image. "I'm afraid." You confess in a short huff, breathing in the soft wind that surrounds you.

"Of what? We'll never let anything hurt you." His voice holds a simple directness, he means every word he says and he doesn't see the need to be poetic with it. He just wants to convey the truth to you. "Anyone looks at you the wrong way and I'll gut them. I'll put their head on a pike to show everyone else not to fuck with you."

With his body once again pressing into you, albeit with a softness that wasn't found in your last heated moment, you find yourself looking down to avoid his wild eyes. He can smell a bittersweet spike of fear in your scent, and his brows furrow together.

"I'm afraid of you... and of Seonghwa. You frighten me. You don't-" You bite your tongue before you let your emotions speak for you. After a moment, you break your silence, "you don't even know me... and it scares me what you're willing to do. You're criminals. And if... if you don't find me a suitable mate that I'll be next on your list of victims. I didn't ask for this, Hongjoong... I didn't want this."

His face is stoic for a spell, but his lips slowly curve upward into a bestial grin: followed by the giggles that had haunted your dreams after the first time you heard them. "Oh, (Y/n)," he snickers, eyes closing with the force of his laughter. It rings out in the silent night and mocks you. What could he possibly be finding so funny about your legitimate fears?

His body collapses into you as he laughs manically, making you freeze with a cry- your body trying to make itself small. You close your eyes, taking sniveling breaths as you will yourself to block out the deranged laughter. "Oh, you're just so adorable!"

"S-stop laughing at me," you whine, attempting to push his weight off of you as the bark begins digging into your back. He doesn't look it, but he's heavy as all get out as he slumps into you.

He grips your wrists as you push at his chest and pins them into the tree with his claws caging them in, all laughter gone in a spilt second as he glares down at you. "Now you listen, Doll," he growls between his teeth, making you cry sharper and clench your eyes tighter. He doesn't like that one bit. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, omega!"

You sheepishly open your eyes, too afraid to disobey him even though he's scaring the living daylights out of you with his mood swings. His eyes slowly return to normal, black fading into nothingness at the sight of your fearful eyes.

"Now you listen close, yeah?" He speaks softer than before, kicking your feet apart to stand between them and get closer to you. "You don't quite understand, I think... We could fucking smell you the second we rolled into that place. Now, Seonghwa thought it was a trick- a stupid ploy to get us to be tame. But when you walked into the room, oh we knew it was real! Just one wiff of your fresh scent and my wolf was clawing to get out. Even with that stupid blocker in your neck, we could smell you and that's how we knew. Other alphas won't even understand so it's okay that you don't. But, Doll, you were made for us, and we were made for you. The moon cut us from the same cloth, three pieces from the same puzzle. You were ours the second you were born, and we were yours. We are each others. We are each other. Mind, body, soul, and wolf, we belong to one another. So don't think for a second that we don't know you, okay? We are you. We'll chase you to the ends of the goddamn Earth if we have to. So don't ever fucking say some shit like that again, got it?! I would break open my chest and shove you inside if that's what it took to keep you safe. I'd walk on my hands and knees for eternity if that's what it takes to make you happy! So don't say some shit like that again, am I understood? You are our mate and we will treat you as such, nothing less than a Goddess among wolves and we the Gods that rule beside you. Do you understand?"

You're too busy sobbing, your small sniffles having grown into full blown fat tears and cries during his monologue, to answer him. He withdraws his claws and your arms fall limp to your side. His palms are warm and comforting on your cheeks even as he says firmly, "nod if you understand."

And all you can do is nod pathetically.

˚➶ ｡˚ PART TWO END ˚➶ ｡˚

#yandere fic #smut fic #ateez fic #yandere ateez #ateez matz #ateez au #ateez smau #park seonghwa #yandere seonghwa #seonghwa smut #kim hongjoong #yandere hongjoong #hongjoong smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader #yandere ateez x reader #yandere x reader #werewolf au

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samishaorganicproducts · 1 year

Link

✔ Restore natural lip colour. ✔ Made with real beetroot, honey & turmeric ✔ Scrubs away dead cells to reveal softer lips. ✔ Lighten Dark lips & keeps them moisturized for hours

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billysgun · 5 months

Text

saving

billy the kid x fem!reader |requested!|billy comes and saves you when you're kidnapped and beaten by a rival gang|

saliva and blood poured out of your mouth before being immediately soaked by the cotton rag you're gagged with. your head felt too heavy to hold as you slowly leaned forward on the chair you were bound to.

the thick ropes needles scratched into your wrists as you felt your ribs ache once you lifted your head to the loose bulb swinging above you

you can feel your side bruising from how the gang members grabbed you and stole you away. using you as a way to get to billy.

"darlin' you're really out of it, ain't ya?"

the old man chuckled as the group surrounded you, luckily, no ones touched you since the rope was tightened around you.

you prayed billy wouldn't show. seeing how there were about 10 men around you right now, how many are outside patrolling?

it would just end with you both dead.

as your head tilted back again and the buzzing light swarmed your vision, you felt it cave into a black darkness and you went limp.

"aaand, there she goes again."

you flinched awake as the thumb pressed into your temple, lifting your head up as one of the old men examined your face

"yeah, she ain't dead" he grunted before stumbling off, your head was pounding and you felt like gagging on the cloth that was stuffed down your throat.

"stay awake for us, doll. we need ya to be here when the kid comes" the presumed leader of the group told you, you felt your legs start to slowly shake as you imagined billy being gunned down-

everyone flinched as the first shot rang out.

your eyes were wide and wild as you started chanting prayers in your mind that it was the members fighting or a stray bullet, but as the main man smiled and ushered a few men to go outside, you knew billy arrived.

"thank you for bringin' him, doll" he smiled, rotting teeth showing before taking his gun and storming outside as a few men crowded around you

another shot, another shot, another shot

"damn, why they ain't get him yet?" one of the men rasped before getting his pistol out and storming off

"guard the door, will ya?" he mumbled before leaving and you were left with 3 men surrounding you

"billy chose a pretty one, huh?" they all chuckled lowly and twirled your hair as they talked about having their way with you before ultimately murdering you

suddenly, the familiar shots of gunfire came to a stop and the men rushed to the window

"did they get him?" they whispered excitedly

"can't tell" one answered back, only then, the door behind you busted open and you let your head fall as bullets flew passed you and into the heads of all your kidnappers

you didn't even know you were crying until thick tears soaked your trousers, blood spread around your shoe as you gasped into your gag

the sound of boots quickly rushing you as your ties were off and a bloody gag from a busted lip was replaced with his lips before his wild eyes tapped your cheeks and body to make sure you were alright

"you're okay? you're okay? none of the fuckers did nothin' to you?" he asked frantically and you nodded

"nothin' but bruised ribs and a punch that knocked me out" you slurred, suddenly feeling too heavy again as you stood. he noticed immediately and scooped you up

"I'm sorry...I'm so fuckin' sorry" he mumbled in your bloody hair, tears soaking your scalp as he carried you out

your eyes traveled over the dead bodies that scattered the yard, seeing a familiar set of rotting teeth that were blown out as he put you on his horse

he rode back to your guys' ranch and he scrubbed the blood out of your hair in a warm bath before holding you tight in bed, vowing to never leave you ever again.

an: i LOVED this request sm!!! and i had a lot of fun writing it!! <333 tysm for requesting!

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victoria-grimesss · 8 months

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Call the Doctor, I'm in Love

masterlist

->Paring: Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Medic!Fem!Reader

->Words: 2.9k

->Warning: fluff & angst, mentions of injury/wounds

->Summary: Soap has a big ol crush on you, he’s not sneaky or quiet about it. Here are the many times he’s fantasized about you and the one time you answered his dreams.

->A/N: a little something because I love Foap!

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish is a pretty guy, a hunk if you will and he knows it. He has no troubles with the ladies and is highly experienced but he always feels like he’s lacking something, someone. Until you came along, pretty new medic. You’re his favorite. He always goes to you for a patch up even waiting for medical help until you come back from break. Johnny is a saint, he is a patient and giving man.

But he wants you, desperately. He’s got a big fat crush and he’s not quiet about it. The 141 is exhausted hearing about what you did today and that Soap thinks you looked dreamy today, stitching up his arm. He saw you look at him a little extra that means you want to be with him right? They can’t wait until you either reject the poor fool or take him on a bloody date. Here are the times poor Mactavish has swooned over you:

The 1st Time: Your Introduction

Soap has found himself head over heels for you. He first saw you in the medical tent after him and an enemy went headfirst over a steep rockwall, he was fine of course, seems like that guy can bounce back from anything, you had nursed him back to health and he was done for. Your caring words and gentle hands were all he wanted now. And imagine his surprise and excitement when you became the team's new task-force medic.

“Alright team I hope you read over the file, we got a new member to our team. She's going to be our medic but don’t worry she can hold our own on the field. She’s reliable and damn good at her job. We’ve had too many close calls lately and I don’t want anyone dying of something that could have been prevented.”

Price ends his introduction and you greet your way around the room, everyone is nice enough for tuff military men. You find yourself sitting next to John, or Soap, or sometimes Johnny depending on who you ask. He’s a good looking guy, as are the rest in the room but you have a job to do so you don’t plan on messing up your place on the team by intermingling with one of them.

“Aye lass, do you carry one of those stethoscope things around with ya?”

He’s leaning on one arm, checking out the equipment you had brought with you.

“I usually keep it in the office, why is something wrong?”

You’re looking him over for anything obvious but nothing sounds any alarm.

“Ah no, it’s just my heart… it’s acting funny, beats a little faster when you come around.”

He’s smiling and you laugh not expecting a bad pick-up line but seems like he’s that kind of guy.

“I see. Well might want to try working on your cardio then that’ll improve that heart rate of yours.”

He pauses, thinking of what to say next to lure you in.

“You like bars doctor?”

“Not particularly..”

“Would ya mind joining me, I hate drinking alone.”

You smile, amused.

“Why not one of the other boys, someone you’re more familiar with.”

You’re looking into your bag and he drops his head lower so you’ll look him in the eyes.

“I’d like to be more familiar with you bonnie.”

You stop and put your hands on your hips pretending to think.

“Well I’m not so interesting, just a doctor after all. I’m sure Gaz would love to join you, you two seem the best of friends.”

He seems a little discouraged when you don’t play into his game but he looks at the small smile that plays on your lips and knows he’s just gotta keep trying. You won’t shake him off that easily.

—

The 2nd Time: The Flu Incident

Flu season. Your favorite time of the year, your inner monologue drips with sarcasm as you scrub your hands raw for the sixth time today. It’s late afternoon and the sun dips over the horizon as the rooms are casted with a honey soaked orange glow. The murmurs from the outside hallway peak your interest and you dry your hands and exit to the hall.

“I told you MacTavish I can help you just as easily as any other nurse or doctor, just come into my office and we’ll get you fixed up.”

An older more seasoned nurse has her hands on her hips, gaze pointed at Soap with a motherly disapproved look at her face. You step out of the room tossing the paper towel into the bin.

“Troubled patient?”

Soap lifts his head at your voice and he smiles, voice nasally and strained.

“Ah there ya are bonnie, been waiting for you. Think you can fix me?”

“You’d be in better hands with her you know? Unlike me she knows what she’s doing.”

Your tone is playful and Johnny stands weakly, hand on the wall.

“Yea but you’re my favorite, can’t feel better unless it’s you.”

The other nurse is called away shooting you a good luck look with her eyes, no doubt happy to not have to deal with the sickly man.

“Alright Johnny whatever you say. Let’s get you to a bed.”

“You’re a real saint hen.”

You place a steady hand on his back leading him to the bed in your office, away from the overflow so he can hopefully get some rest.

“Alright Johnny go ahead and lay down I’ll get your temp and let’s see if we can break that fever alright?”

He groans as he lays down obviously dealing with joint pain from the flu, it’s a nasty one that’s hit the base this time.

You run a washcloth under cool water, grab your thermometer, and sit next to him making sure he’s comfortable. You take his temp and frown,

“Give it to me straight doctor, am I going to make it?”

He grips your hand dramatically and you laugh while patting his hand.

“I think you’ll just scrape by, it’ll be close though.”

“Oh thank heavens. Guess you’ll just have to take extra close care of me right?”

He’s giving you those stupid puppy dog eyes again as you place the washcloth on his forehead and place the back of your hand on his cheek to feel the temp there as well.

“I guess since I’m part of your team now I’ll have to make sure you live, so yes. I will take extra good care of you.”

You smile at him softly, you don’t like seeing anyone sick but sick Soap reminds you of a kicked puppy.

You miss the way his eyes shine up at you as you chart his info. How the thoughts in his head are those of you and him on dates, what ring he will propose to you with, where you’ll honeymoon and various other daydreams he has swirling around. He would do anything for you to be his, he would capture the stars for you.

You get up from your chair to put his info into the computer and he looks at the sad flowers on the side table, shriveled and needing to be tossed.

“These flowers aren't lookin so good.”

You glance over and frown.

“Oh yeah, it’s been so busy lately I haven't had a chance to replace them yet.”

He hums and you walk back over to him and give him some painkillers and electrolyte drink mix.

“Take these and get some rest please, it’ll do you good.”

He sits up, eyes on you as he takes the pills, handing you the little cup back.

“I’ll get you some new flowers, take you out too.”

You’re facing away from him, a smile gracing your features.

“Johnny, I-”

“You don’t have to say yes now lass, just please, for the sake of my well-being think on it.”

You move over to him and dab the cloth onto his cheeks and cool down his pulse points, heart growing slightly as you reply.

“Sure Johnny, I’ll think about it. Now sleep, doctor's orders.”

He sleeps quietly next to you as you finish your charting. The sight of him so calm warms your heart and it scares you a little bit, you wouldn't want to throw off the balance of the team or make any weird power dynamics by falling for him but he makes it harder and harder.

The next week fresh flowers are left on the side table.

—

The 3rd Time: Award Ceremony Ball

Dressed to the nines each of you are. A very successful mission rewarded the whole team with a variety of medals and everyone was looking very nice all cleaned up.

Your dress was a floor gown with a slip up the leg and your back was exposed, the dress felt so silky and it was nice to not be covered in blood for once. Although you did manage to spill some kind of fancy jam on it and you were frantically dabbing at it with water when you were interrupted with Soap meeting up with you.

“Well don’t you look nice.”

He’s lively tonight, eyes bright with optimism after the job and sporting brand new chest candy to show off.

Your eyes drift up from the new stain on your dress to him and he, well he looks damn good. A new pink scar graces his jawline but it looks good on him, he can wear scars well.

“Thank you, you clean up well yourself too.”

“Ah bonnie don’t make me blush now.”

The rest of the team is chatting at a nearby table, Price is nursing a short glass of something dark, Gaz is going to town on the amazing food, and Ghost is engaged in conversation with the two of them.

“You wanna head back to the table?”

You offer, he shakes his head and offers his hand.

“I ask the fine lady to a dance.”

You blush, never asked to dance before, the ballroom floor filled with experts, couples swirling to the melody in the air.

You stew on it for a moment, and put your hand in his.

“Ok but if I fall you fall with me okay?”

“Always.”

Your hands are intertwined, one of his is on your waist and yours is on his shoulder. You both try to copy what the others do and the messy dance combined with the flutes of champagne you both consumed makes for quite the site. The mess of bumping feet and unsteady movements.

“For a sergeant you’re rather uncoordinated MacTavish.” Your laugh is light.

“I didn’t go to fuckin dance school, certainly didn’t learn this in the marines that’s for sure. What, did they teach this in medical school?”

“Does it look like they did? I can stitch up a bullet wound but lord help me I can't dance for shit.”

You bump into him again and his grip tightens slightly.

“I got ya bonnie.”

He could be living in a dream right now, you in such a pretty dress adorned in your well deserved medals, him with his. You’re gripping his shoulder and he’s got you in his arms, he can smell your perfume and see the small hairs out of place as the two of you spin but he loves it all the same. He wants it all the same.

“Johnny. Can you hear me?”

He blinks harshly, really sinking back in. You’re not his right now, he can’t take you back to his place after this and kiss each part of you, unzip the dress and let his fingers graze over the skin that's revealed to him. Watch how you move under the moonlight as he touches you just as he imagined. Not yet.

“Yea?”

“I said I think Gaz just devoured his fourth bowl of that dip I wanted to try.”

“Must be good then, should we head over before he finishes it all?”

You laugh and agree.

“Thank you for the dance MacTavish, you made me feel less silly for not knowing what I’m doing.”

His eyes sparkle at your admiration.

“I’m always happy to help.”

—

The 4th Time: Yes

This mission could not have been more fucked up. Shrapnel flies and bullets whiz by. The air is cold but your body is so hot, on fire from the adrenaline.

The coms are staticy and choppy but you can make out the team.

An undercover mission with Soap had you outside a pretty nice villa at dusk. It was meant to pose as a couple on a retreat to gain intel from an organization nearby but all hell had broken loose. You're cornered and Soap had been down to three bullets and you at two until you were able to take down someone else and gain the upper hand.

Communication with the team was hard, they had sent for backup now you just had to wait.

And Soap is shot.

He has taken a bullet for you and you’re frantic.

“Fuck Johnny, shit.”

He grimaces as you rip your bag off of your back to grab for first aid. It’s not enough though, you had to pack light and it’s not enough.

“Stupid ass job, told them to find a way to get more equipment.”

You’re more muttering to yourself, ripping things out of the small bag you were allotted to patch him up.

“You’re cute when you’re frustrated.”

Johnny laughs and it sends him into a coughing fit, the bullet is in his side. You pray it hasn't done permanent damage but the gravel in his cough scares the hell out of you.

“Hold on Johnny, I’m gonna get you fixed up alright, just stay still.”

A bullet nearly misses your head and he shoots back hitting the guy before clutching his side again.

“You think that’s all of them?”

“Fucking hope so, I need- I have to clean it.”

He’s strong, so strong and sweet and kind and nice and charming and you can’t lose him.

Not when you know you want him now. That you need him now.

“Gonna lift your shirt ok? Just watch your breathing.”

“Aye, not even going to take me to dinner first.”

Your eyes are blurry as tears slip down, first one the two.

He wipes them away, his blood smearing onto your face and you choke back a sob.

“C’mon bonnie, don't cry. I hate seeing you cry.”

His voice grows weaker the more he speaks and you beg him to stop, but he rambles.

He talks about how each morning he wakes up to see if you’re up yet. He waits for you at the gym, always goes to you when he feels unwell, gushes to the rest of the team about you when you’re not around.

He flirts openly with you and what a fool you’ve been to not reciprocate fully, to reel into him.

The needle breaks his skin and his eyes grow heavy, the blood is still flowing freely and you almost feel it rushing out of you as well.

“I’m so sorry Johnny.”

You stitch and wipe and repeat. It’s a gaping wound and it makes you sick seeing it on him.

You’re so focused on stitching him you don’t notice when his eyes close. His breathing is shallower now.

Your eyes race around his face, head now slumped to the side.

You wipe the wound, it’s not good but it should be ok. Heavy on should.

Your hand, coated in blood cups his cheek, shaking.

“Johnny?”

You move his head, it's heavy in your hands and your breathing hurts now.

You get closer, enough to press his forehead to yours and you inhale his smell.

You hold cloth to his wound to try to stop the bleeding and you whisper promises to him if he will just pull through.

Your lips are so close to his that when your tears roll down your face they roll off your nose onto his lips.

The hand that cups his cheek feels his pulse on his neck and it’s quiet and slow. It’s so silent here now.

“I’m so sorry Johnny. I love you. Fuck I love you so much I just didn’t want to mess anything up. Please don’t leave yet.

You lips touch his softly, like if you pressed any harder he would shatter.

“Could have- could have told me all that before I was dying yea?”

He laughs weakly, his smile cracking the corner of his lips. You cup his face fully now, careful to remove your hand from the wound but you applied enough pressure by now the blood has coagulated some.

“You mean all that?” His eyes are heavy but he still looks at you with that same shining he always did.

“Yes, god yes. I just didn't want to mess up the team dynamic but I don’t care anymore, you just have to pull through alright then let's go out.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Blades of the helicopter sound nearby cutting through the silence.

“Just hold on Johnny we’re gonna get you patched up. Then I want to see you in that suit again.”

“Anything for you bonnie.”

—

He recovered well with you by his side of course. You dressed his wound properly and gave him a kiss to make it heal faster he would say. Then two weeks later he showed up in a suit with flowers at your office door. The rest is history, but the team is much happier not listening to Soap’s rambling about you but they are happy nonetheless.

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