#I feel like there is something really special about sitting down to eat a meal that's been prepared by someone you love for you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months

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aphrodisiac

words: 3.5k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, stepbro!rafe, stepcest, drugging, noncon/dubcon, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, female receiving oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v sex, pregnancy, somnophilia, male masturbation, bit of voyeurism?, mention of plan b, reader is 19 (rafe is like 20/21 but its not explicitly said)

“hey, sis.” rafe calls from the bottom of the stairs. you peak your head out of your room, curls swaying as you look at him. “i made you dinner.” “oh, you did!” you squeal, bounding down the stairs to fall into rafe arms, giving him a big hug as he spins you. “you’re the best step brother ever!”

rafe loves your reaction. something as simple as him preparing some food for you has you hugging and thanking him incessantly, a big smile on your face, so appreciated of the little act.

“no problem, sis. you’ll eat with me right?” rafe asks, having already placed the meal in the dining room, his plate at the head of the table, yours right next to him. he didn’t want to mix up whose was whose, for reasons you didn’t know yet.

“of course.” you nod, letting rafe interlace your fingers together as he leads you towards the dining room. you look at your place already set, another grin coming to your face. rafe made you soup and already got a big glass of water for you.

“thank you so much.” you hug rafe before sitting down, not realizing how much having your body pressed against his is affecting him.

“of course, bunny.” rafe says, leaning over the side of the table to push a strand of your hair behind your ear, not missing the way a blush comes to your cheeks.

you stir the soup before bringing the spoon to your mouth, blowing on it before taking a sip. “oh my gosh, rafey!” you smile at your brother. “this is so good!”

“im glad, honey.” rafe says, patting your thigh under the table before he works on his meal as well, letting out a breath of relief when you couldn’t taste what he had slipped in. “so, tell me about your day.”

“ugh, well i got into a fight with tiffy…” you begin to recount the details as you eat, not noticing that one of rafes hands stays underneath the table, just out of view as he grinds his hand down against his crotch, not able to control his cock when he’s around you, even your sweet little voice just explaining the drama of your day has him rock hard.

you don’t notice as rafes hand starts to jack up and down, his shoulder barely moving, his cock now free from his pants, praying he cums before you finish your soup, glad that you’re guzzling it all down. he wasn’t sure how much to put in, the secret ingredient he added just to yours. he wanted to make sure it took effect, but at the same time didn’t want to make you pass out.

“and then i took a shower.” you shrug. “boring, i didn’t do anything special. just shaved my legs and stuff. i did do a hair mask actually.” you touch over your curls, hoping they look a little shinier than normal.

“looks good.” rafe says, his voice hoarse, like he’s straining, and you make a weird face for a split second, trying to decipher if something is wrong before you shrug it off, immediately returning to recounting your day. “but i did use this new moisturizer all over, and it smells sooo good. like strawberries mixed with vanilla. just delicious.” you let out a small moan when describing the scent, not even realizing that rafe jolts in his seat, cumming into his hand as he bites his lip hard, barely holding back his noises.

“not as good as this soup though, rafey. thank you sooo much.” you reach over, rubbing your hand over his bicep. rafe quickly tucks himself back into his shorts, letting out an awkward cough.

“its no problem, really.” he shrugs. he feels a little guilty. you're so appreciative, and everything he’s doing has ulterior motives, but then you smile at him, and rafes cock pulses in his pants, and the bit of guilt goes out the window.

you sway towards the bed, wondering if you are coming down with something, your body warm, skin sweaty. you have already put on a pair of short pajamas, opting to skip the long set you usually like due to how hot you are.

you flop down on top of the covers, fanning yourself. you close your eyes, trying to sleep, but there's so much heat coming from you, especially between your legs.

“ugh!” you let out a groan, tugging your pajama shirt off to leave you in a sports bra, your shorts the next to go. you toss them off the bed and lay back, feeling like you can see your heartbeat through your skin.

you try turning to the side, hoping switching positions would make you fall asleep, but as your eyes close, so do your thighs, clenching them together as you grind back and forth, a delicious amount of pressure on your privates.

you quickly realize what you are doing and flip onto your back, panting heavily. you reach slowly between your legs. you've never masturbated before, but you've heard from your friends and movies what it is, so you cautiously rub a singular finger over top of your underwear when you suddenly press over a part of you that makes your entire body jolt, a moan forcing its way out of your mouth.

you try rubbing harder, focusing on the spot. you aren't even aware of the noises falling from your lips as your hand quickens, gasping out when you realize that your underwear is wet.

you've never felt the weird slickness between your legs before, but it helps your underwear rub easier over your skin, so you ignore it and continue.

before you realize what is happening, a damn breaks and a high spreads throughout your body. you scream out, limbs shaking as you rub yourself, realizing halfway through that this must be an orgasm.

you physically jolt off the bed when you realize that you just screamed out loud. it was only you and rafe in the house, everyone else gone for a weekend trip, but he must have heard you, his room right across the hall from yours, but you have more pressing issues as the orgasm did nothing to calm you down, immediately beginning to rub between your legs again.

you slide your shaky legs off the bed, knowing this isn't normal, the way your body is working. you must be sick, ill. you stumble out of your room and slam your body into rafes door, not caring that you fell into the wood, not when it's so cool and decreasing your temperature.

“sis?” rafe opens the door, and you quite literally fall into his arms.

“some… somethings wrong, rafe.” you pant, hands gripping at his shoulders as he holds you up.

“come in, come in.” rafe says, pulling you further into the room, kicking his door behind you. rafe maneuvers you to the bed, and the second you're sat down on the edge, your thighs are clenched together.

“i-i feel really weird. somethings wrong with my body i don't know, help me please.” you sob, chest rising and falling quickly.

“okay, okay.” rafe says, somehow not seeming surprised about the state you're in.

rafe places a hand on your shoulder, and you cry out from the touch, feeling like your body is on fire.

“i must have ate something bad or-” you pause mid sentence, realization sinking in. you look to rafe with wide eyes. “what did you do?”

“come on sissy, let me help you out.” rafes thumb sweeps over your skin, forcing a shiver through your body.

“rafe.” you say cautiously, but it turns into a whine when he tugs on the strap of your sports bra.

“it's okay.” rafe says so softly. “im just taking care of you.” rafe brings his other hand to your torso, grabbing the bottom of your bra and pulling it over your head, your arms too weak to do anything but rise up and let him take it off.

you know you should cover your chest, but it feels so good to have your nipples exposed to the cold air as you let out a low moan. rafe pushes your shoulders back, and you fall against the bed without even trying to hold yourself up.

“such gorgeous tits, sis.” rafe leans over your body, hands coming to grip your chest, palms rubbing against your nipples.

“p-please.” you beg. “you're my brother.”

“just your step brother.” rafe bites back. “and i know you'd want me if your mom hadn't married my dad. i just needed to slip a little something into your soup to help you along.”

rafe isn't wrong, of course you find him attractive, but you did everything in your power to set that aside and truly see him as a brother, even if you didn't meet until well into your teens.

“you drugged me?” you squeal, pushing your chest into his hands as he massages his fingers into your plump chest, putting enough pressure to keep you down, not that you’re truly resisting.

“just a little aphrodisiac.” rafe glances down between your legs, your underwear completely soaked. “clearly it worked.” “just… just make me stop feeling like this.” you say quietly, ashamed of what you are asking for.

“yeah?” rafe smirks, immediately starting to move, pulling his shirt off and tossing it away. “gonna fuck you so good, sis.”

“you can’t tell anyone.” you remind rafe, even as your eyes gloss over at seeing his muscles. you sit up suddenly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you kiss him. you moan against his mouth, pulling him onto the bed before flipping so you’re on top. you make out with rafe, truly not sure if you’re even doing a good job, you’ve never taken anything this far with a guy before.

you grind your hips down over rafes crotch, feeling how hard he is beneath his sweatpants. whatever rafe put in your soup makes it for too easy for you to cum as you already feel your high building again, especially when rafe raises his hands to play with your nipples, pinching and flicking at them while you buck your hips into his.

you pull away from rafes kiss with a squeal as you cum, your knees pressing together around rafes hips.

“holy shit, that was hot.” rafe smiles up at you, a toothy grin that has butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“just help me, please.” you beg. rafe nods, flipping you over onto the bed. you shuck your underwear off as he takes off his sweats, frowning when he's still covered by his underwear.

“ive wanted to taste you for so long-” rafe says, shoving your legs open as he lays in between them, his eyes on your soaked cunt.

“rafe, what are you gonna do-ooooh!” you shout as rafe lurches forward, burying his head between your legs. his tongue licks long stripes through your folds, lapping up all of your juices.

“never got head before?” rafe smirks, bringing a finger to your hole, teasing it by simply circling around.

“no, never done anything with a guy before.” you admit shyly.

“aww, baby.” rafe pouts up at you. “i didn’t know you were a virgin. that almost makes me feel bad about this.” rafes feeling doesn’t last long as his tongue is quickly back on your cunt, this time flicking directly over your clit.

you bring your hands to his hair, holding his face into your pussy as you grind your hips. rafe sucks your bud into his mouth the same time his finger plunges into you, forcing out yet another orgasm that has you screaming so loud you’re concerned the neighbors would hear.

“so, so good.” you whine, your clit feeling oversensitive but still filled with need as rafe continues licking and sucking, his finger now thrusting in and out of you.

“can make you feel like this all the time, sis. gonna let me fuck you after tonight right?” rafe asks, barely pulling away from you to speak, feeling the vibrations from his mouth on your pussy.

you don’t answer right away. you feel like you can’t truly give an answer, not when you are so turned on that you feel like you could explode, not as his finger keeps pumping inside of you.

“baby sis?” rafe looks up at you, waiting for an answer. you pull your lip between your teeth, trying to formulate thoughts. “or i can stop right now. if you don’t want to keep fucking me then you don’t need me tonight.”

“no, no, no!” you cry out as rafes finger stops moving. “i’ll keep sleeping with you just-just fucking move! make me cum again!”

rafe sucks your clit into his mouth as he forces another finger in, your walls tight around him but so slick he can move easily. rafe has to press his hips into the mattress as you cum again, giving some relief to his cock.

“fuck, how long until it wears off?” you cry out as your clit pulses.

rafe sits back, wiping his mouth against your thigh to clean his chin. “probably will feel better once i fuck you.” rafe says, in truth he’s not sure.

“fuck me then.” you beg, body squirming against the mattress, sweat leaking from your skin.

rafe nods, pulling his fingers out and kneeling between your legs. he pauses briefly before pulling his underwear off and tossing them away. “i can put a condom on but it probably won’t feel as good.” “just… just buy me a plan b tomorrow, okay? need you to cum in me, i think it’ll help.” you swallow nervously, knowing it’s a mistake, not just letting a guy fuck you raw, but your step brother.

rafe nods, draping his body over yours, knowing you are far too weak for any other position, your limbs jelly from the drugs and the orgasms. rafe reaches down, lining his cock up with your entrance. he pushes in slowly, watching your face contort in pleasure.

once he’s all the way seated inside of you, rafe feels your cunt squeeze around him rapidly, another orgasm being drawn out. you pant heavily, worried this will never end as rafe swings his hips out and then back in.

“is it-is it always this easy to cum?” you ask. they’ve all felt so good so far, but you are beyond overwhelmed.

“you’ve never cum before?” rafe asks, grunting as you raise your hips slightly, letting him sink in even deeper.

“not before tonight.” you admit, glancing down your body to see rafes cock entering you repeatedly, making another orgasm rise to the surface as you reach between your legs, fingers pressing to your clit as you cum hard.

“not always, baby. but i promise i’ll make you feel real good, even when you don’t have any aphrodisiacs.” rafe presses his lips against yours, but it’s not really a kiss, not when you can’t stop panting, your jaw slack and unable to close.

“did you take anything?” you question, realizing how hard rafes cock is, how easily he’s pounding into you.

“no, you are just that sexy, sis. i’ve wanted to get inside you for so long.” rafe grunts, making sure he thrusts as deep as possible every time.

“i-i think i’m gonna cum again!” you warn rafe, rubbing yourself to another orgasm, letting out a squeal as rafe struggles not to cum with you tightening around him, needing to get at least one more out of you before he bursts himself.

“fuck, you’re so tight.” rafe groans.

“cum in me rafe, please. i need your cum.” you whine, back sliding up and down the mattress as he fucks into you.

“yeah?” rafe smirks. “need your brothers cum, huh?” you know his dirty words are meant to tease you, but you can’t help agreeing. “yes, brother, please, please.”

rafe shifts his weight to one elbow, reaching down with his free hand to swat your fingers away from your clit, rubbing himself harshly, trying to get you to cum at the same time, hoping that will satisfy you.

“close.” rafe warns.

you let out a scream, back arching off the mattress as you cum, triggering rafes orgasm as he shoots his load inside of you, filling you up completely, rubbing you gently throughout your high before pulling away. rafes cock softens as he pulls out, flopping on his back onto the bed next to you.

you don’t even give him a second to breath, straddling rafes hips and trying to get his cock back inside of you, but rafe winces as his cum drips out of your cunt. “sis, stop. too sensitive.” he warns.

“i-i still need you though!” you argue. “you drugged me rafe, you have to help!” “here, come sit on my face.” rafe tugs at your hips until you are hovering over his mouth. rafe makes sure to only work his tongue against your clit, not wanting to taste his own cum, even as he feels it falling onto his chin and sliding down his neck.

rafe eats you out through five more orgasms until you can’t kneel above him any longer, flopping to the side.

“fuck me again, please.” you beg as rafe takes the blanket at wipes away his chin and chest.

“i can’t, i’m so fucking tired.” rafe wishes he could get it up, but its late, his body is exhausted, and he can barely keep his eyes open.

“you can’t fall asleep and leave me like this!” you scream at rafe, tears falling down your cheeks.

“shh, here.” rafe reaches his hand out, sticking two fingers inside of your pussy, squelching in your wetness. he fingers you until he can’t move any longer, passing out. you continue to hump yourself on his fingers and rub your clit until the need lessens, the drugs begin to wear off, and you manage to pass out next to rafe just before sunset.

you wake up with a groan, muscles sore as you blink your eyes open, bed still covered in wetness.

“hey sis.” rafe says, sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in hand, now dressed in his underwear.

“rafe.” you growl out. “you drugged me, you piece of shit!”

“hey, you certainly enjoyed yourself.” rafe argues back, locking his phone screen and tossing it away.

“fuck you!” you shout, launching yourself at your brother. rafe expects you to slap him, or scratch him, but not your lips as you press them against his.

“fuck me.” you ask. “i-i want to feel you when not drugged. you owe it to me. please, rafe.”

“oh baby.” rafe coos, not realizing what he just woke up inside of you. “you don’t have to beg me.”

“who did this to you?” your mother screams, ward looking just as concerned. “you’re still a teenager!” “i’m an adult!” you argue back.

“you’re nineteen! you still live at home, you have no job, no money! and now you’re pregnant?”

“when i find who did this to you.” ward pipes up, an angry expression on your face, completing the rest of the sentence without even having to use words.

“just… go to your room while your stepdad and i talk. i don’t want to see your face right now.” your mother shoos you away.

any other time you would cry at her harsh words, and at disappointing your mom and step dad, but you know what is waiting for you in your room.

“they're pissed.” you pout, falling into rafes arms once your door is closed and locked behind you.

“a little bit longer, sissy. and then i’m getting us out of here. i know it sucks, but i need a couple more weeks to get the money, and then we are gone. anywhere in the world you want.” “tell me again.” you sigh, leaning your head against rafes chest, placing a hand on your stomach, your bump haven gotten to big to hide it anymore.

“just you. me. our baby. no one who knows we are step siblings. i steal the money to get us away, and then we make it legit. find jobs. get married. have more babies.”

you smile up at rafe, pressing a kiss to his neck.

“i…” you whisper, knowing how dangerous of a time this is for you two getting caught. “i want you again.” rafe smiles. “that baby inside of you has you acting like you’re on that aphrodisiac again.”

“shut up.” you groan, rolling your eyes as you fall back into the bed, lifting your dress up to reveal you aren’t wearing any underwear. “we wouldn’t be going through this if you would have just bought me a plan b that next day like you were supposed to.”

“baby-” rafe shucks off his pants and underwear. “you spent all day riding my cock or begging for my mouth, even when the drugs wore off. i didn’t have any time!” “yeah, yeah, yeah.” you roll your eyes. “just get inside of me.”

rafe smiles at you as he lines up with your entrance, sinking in with a quiet groan before leaning forward, feeling your baby bump press against his abs. “i love you, sis.”

“i love you too, brother.”

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xoxoladyaz · 1 year

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Deep down, Steve knows that it's only a matter of time until he gets caught.

It feels like he's gone through the five stages of grief, like, twenty times. He can't count how many hours he's spent rationalizing it: what Eddie doesn't know won't hurt him, this is normal, people do it all the time, and besides, Eddie would feel completely betrayed if he knew and their relationship is so new that it's just not worth the risk. The absolute last thing he wants is to upset Eddie and this will just make him upset so really, Steve is doing the honorable thing by just not telling him, by pretending that he's not hiding anything, that everything is fine.

But it's not Eddie that catches him; hell, it isn't even someone in the Party; it's Jeff, Eddie's friend/Hellfire Club member/Corroded Coffin bandmate who shows up too early for D&D at Steve's one day and sees something he shouldn't have.

"This isn't what it looks like."

Jeff walks into the kitchen and frowns, like he's confused by what he's seeing and why Steve is so anxious, why he's sweating like he's just run a marathon. "It looks like you're blending a bunch of veggies together in a blender."

Shit. "Okay, it's exactly what it looks like."

Jeff still looks confused. "And this is a big deal because - "

"Because I haven't told Eddie that the 'special pasta sauce' that I've been using the last three months whenever we have spaghetti and meatballs is actually entirely made of, like, ten different kinds of vegetables," Steve rushes out, and Jeff's face smoothes in understanding.

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense. The dude has a weird vendetta against veggies."

Steve groans, slumping in relief. "Tell me about it. Do you know how hard it is to hide veggies in every single meal that I make for him? Because if I don't, then he's never going to eat them, and I'm worried about his health enough as it is."

Jeff nods. "It's the smoking, right?"

"The smoking, and the drinking, and I know he's sneaking out to smoke with Jon and Argyle, but he doesn't exercise and he only eats highly processed cereal with loads of sugar and I just don't want him to have a heart attack before the age of forty!"

"Hey, hey, Steve, man, your secret's safe with me." Jeff holds his hands up in supplication. "And for the record, I'm on your side. The dude is like a feral raccoon."

"I know," Steve sighs. "But he's my feral raccoon."

That makes Jeff start laughing. "If it makes you feel any better, my mom and I have been doing the same thing for years now. If you want, we could exchange recipes sometime."

"Really?" Steve perks up and now, now he's excited. "That would be great!"

"Sick. Need some help with the meatballs?"

"Please!"

And that is how Eddie and Gareth and Phil and Dustin and Mike and Lucas and Erica and Will find them later, chatting and laughing while Steve tosses his homemade noodles into his now-simmering pasta sauce, Jeff sitting on the kitchen island and drinking a beer.

This time, it's Jeff who looks like he's seen a ghost. "This isn't what it looks like."

"Oh?" Eddie asks, and his voice is totally controlled, which means that Jeff is screwed. "So you're not hanging out with my boyfriend and making him do that cute little blushy giggle that is my cute blushy giggle?"

"Eddie!" Steve scolds, but it's too late, Jeff knows his fate is sealed.

"Okay, it's exactly what it looks like."

(Jeff's rogue is caught in the blast zone when Dustin's ranger kills a large acid toad. Still, he can't feel too mad when he sees Eddie smirk and then lick the veggie sauce out of his pasta bowl.)

#Eddie isn't jealous #okay Eddie might be jealous #okay Eddie might always be jealous of anyone who isn't him who has Steve's attention #Steve is too besotted to notice #and so begins the one-sided war between Eddie and Jeff #Gareth is definitely just here to make things worse #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #Eddie Munson vs veggies #Eddie might be a feral raccoon but he's Steve's feral raccoon

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saksukei · 8 months

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gojo satoru falls for a non sorcerer

masterlist | meh i don't really like this ughhh

in all his life, satoru gojo never thought he'd fall for a non sorcerer.

heck, he didn't even think it was possible. he was on a mission and he had rescued you. as a means of thank you, you promised him that had could always come to your house for a free meal. gojo laughed about it, mentioning something about how it's his duty to help and yet, he shows up anyway.

and when they said that the way to a man's stomach is through his heart, you’ve proved that theory correct. maybe because it's your smile, or the delicious food that you give him, or the fact that he's hopelessly in love with you, he can't help but show up every weekend. (he counts his lucky stars that he didn't give that mission to nanami).

but one day, he shows up without any warning. blindfold off, hands and clothes covered in blood. he knows he shouldn't. he can absolutely go to the infirmary and it won't be an issue, but his feet take him elsewhere.

when you find him on your doorstep, for the first time, you actively realize that gojo satoru is not just some random guy that comes over and eats out the entire contents of your fridge. no, he's much more than that. how you had completely forgotten what he was destined to be, the so called saviour of jujutsu society.

“oh toru,” you mutter as you immediately take him in and sit him down. he doesn't say a word and you don't ask.

you ignore his blue eyes burning through your skin, as you clean his hands with a rag and he lets you.

however, instead of an explanation, he says something you weren't expecting. “m’ sorry for showing up like this. won't happen again.”

“nonsense toru,” you retort. “it’s okay.”

“you can’t even look me in the eye,” he remarks and it stings. he's not entirely wrong, but you can't look him in the eye for a completely different reason.

“i can toru,” you reply, finally meeting his eyes. “what i can't see is you getting hurt.”

he doesn't reply, but he removes a strand of hair from your face. “m’ sorry.” he apologizes again, feeling like he's the worst man in the world for showing up like this. the only thought on his mind is why does he always hurt the people closest to him? the ones he loves the most? is this what it is to be cursed?

“stop apologizing to me,” you say, sternly. “i said it’s okay,” you continue wiping the blood off his hands.

your reply pulls him out of his dilemma. and so, he does something he's never done before. satoru leans slightly forward and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“can’t help it,” he whispers. “don’t ever want to see you upset.”

“oh? should i consider myself special?” you tease, trying to lighten the mood but his reply throws you off guard.

“of course,” he leans back in his chair. “you’re the only one that has ever had the privilege of being my favorite.”

#jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu gojo #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk angst #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader

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politemenacephd · 2 months

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Dadbod!Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader

(+18)

❤️ You offer to cook for Miguel after a long day, and things go awry.

Content: Fluffy start, Implied age gap, Daddy kink, Size difference, Spanking, PinV sex, Creampie, Aftercare.

‘Babe—babe, I swear to— OYE! Off!’

With a soft thwap your raised hand came down on top of Miguel’s, forcing him to retract his fingers. He was trying to steal from the bowl of pre-cooked seasoned chicken breast you’d cut up and put aside.

‘Okay! Alright, I’m backing off. I’m backing off, see?' he promised, though you could hear him chuckling as he licked his fingers behind you. You shook your head in exasperation.

Miguel had come home exhausted after a hard day, so to cheer him up you’d agreed to cook one of his favourite meals. You’d anticipated just a peaceful, domestic night in, but Miguel clearly had other plans.

It was 7pm and you were in your little cosy kitchen together, just you and him in your own little private bubble.

The windows were blurry and splattered with rain as it stormed outside, the world dark and foreboding beyond the misty glass, but in here it was warm. The kitchen was lit with bright orange lights, and it smelled of garlic, spice and fresh uncooked dough.

You were wearing loose sweatpants and an apron over top while you were otherwise shirtless, something Miguel had specially requested. You’d huffed about it at first, but you couldn’t deny his eyes on you were intoxicating. His steely red gaze, the way his eyes narrowed and his tongue crept over his teeth when he watched you from behind, it made your stomach so tight it almost hurt.

So, you feigned annoyance, and you indulged him.

Miguel had also stripped off his sodden work clothes to put on his favourite old t-shirt and loose joggers, foregoing any boxers as he lounged about the house.

It was your favourite outfit to watch him in. His shirt was a little too small and tended to ride up over his stocky belly, creating a cute little window you loved to poke whenever you walked past him, and up top it stuck nicely to his defined shoulders and curved, weighty chest.

Despite the attempt to create a fun, relaxing environment, that kitchen was sweating tension. You felt like you were on a timer.

The moment you turned your back to him so you could chop more garlic he swooped in to kiss your neck, his finger trailing dangerously closer to your chest as he pushed your apron aside. You squirmed as he let out a breathy laugh.

‘Shh- off! Off! Go sit down, old man, before you choke’ you chided.

Miguel let out a low whistle. 'Old man? Really?'

'Mhm. Go. Shoo. I've had enough' you insisted again.

You could hear him chuckling to himself as he leant in against your back. ‘Mi amor, no seas tan malo. Hm? Don’t send me away, I’ll be good. Te lo prometo.’

‘Oh, you promise?’

‘Mhm.’ He snuggled in close with his hands around your waist, swaying you to the sound of the rain as it rattled outside. ‘Prometo.’

Yes, you rolled your eyes at his shenanigans, but you couldn’t help but lean in. You looked so small against him. His pecs on either side of your head were heavy and warm, squishy and thick, and his calloused hands were sweet as they grabbed you. He felt so powerful and yet so soft at the same time.

You sighed. With a giggle you gave in and put down the knife, wiping your hands on a worn tea towel covered in little pastel cats. You reached up to cup yourself a feel of his right pec while he chuckled. The way it weighed in your hand made you giddy.

‘Mm… You’re so annoying’ you murmured.

‘Oh, so touching IS okay, just only when you do it, huh? Good to know’ Miguel spoke with a mock tut as you waved your hand at him.

‘I’m the one cooking! So yes, I’m allowed.’

‘Well then let me help.’

‘Your idea of—helping—’ you paused to again tap his hand away as he grabbed at the pre-cooked chicken, ‘is just eating everything, and groping me!’

‘I mean I feel VERY helped by both those things’ he said. He smiled as he swallowed, flashing those thick fangs beneath his full upturned lips, and you forced yourself to not melt completely. You failed. The feel of his thumb gently rubbing back and forth over your waist got to you.

‘If you want to actually help, then actually help’ you insisted. He noted the little breathless whine in your words and grinned to himself; he knew where this was going.

‘Okay’ he said with a shrug. ‘I’ll help.’

His hands released you and he leaned around instead, taking your little hands in his. He started guiding them through the motions of chopping and pushing aside. You lulled into the quiet, domestic bliss of this moment, listening to the rain and the sound of his breathing, knowing that the knot in your gut would soon put it to an end.

‘You cut way too big’ you noted as he moved.

‘Mmhm, mhm.’ He hummed along with your orders while making it very clear he wasn’t listening, as he continued gently nudging his hips at your rear. You felt a strong heat starting to grow in your cheeks.

‘Mig—you’re, not even cutting anything anymore’ you said. You voice had involuntarily gotten softer.

‘Mmhm.’

His hips moved a bit harder, smooshing you into the hard wooden counter, and this time you felt his bulge push into you. Your face was burning at this point. It took every ounce of strength in you to not moan.

‘You—Miguel, come on. You’re terrible at this, just—let me do it’ you insisted, trying your best to cover up how flustered you sounded.

You ended up pushing his hands aside so you could try to take over, but you didn’t anticipate what being free would do to him. His hand came down and firmly squeezed your right buttock between his fingers and palm.

You squeaked aloud, much to his amusement. He leaned down and whispered into your ear.

‘Yes, chef.’

‘MIG—’

He ducked to the opposite side as you tried to hit him with the spatula, squeezing harder as you tried to get him. You felt the tension rising.

‘Mig, you—ah—’

You involuntarily moaned as he squeezed and spread your ass for his bulge to push into, eagerly giving one sharp grind to your backside. You pursed your lips, but it was too late.

‘Mm… Miguel’ you whined.

‘Ahuh?’

You failed to make a jab at his cocky attitude, and that was enough to let him know he’d won. You were overtaken by the pleasurable throbbing in your clit, the hot pulsing of blood through your veins. You couldn’t help it. He was such a gorgeous man.

‘That’s it’ he purred. He leant in closer as he started to grind. ‘That’s what I want.’

A shaky moan escaped you again as he started to grind harder. You felt his breath stirring against your neck.

‘That’s what I want’ he repeated. You felt him lick his lips.

‘Oh, mi amor… Fuck it—I need you, now.’

Miguel suddenly swiped everything aside with one swing of his huge, muscled arm, leaving the counter bare for him to drop you onto it. He lifted your body was terrifying ease.

‘Ah, Mig—’

You were dropped with your torso face down on the counter, hands spread flat to the surface on either side of your shoulders, but he quickly grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back with just one of his huge hands.

His hips hit you again; you were the perfect height, with your toes just barely touching the floor. He started to push your legs aside.

‘A-Ah—Mig—’

His thumb began to shimmy your loose joggers down. He was painfully slow, letting you stew in the tension as bit by bit you were drawn to nakedness against him. ‘Gorgeous, gorgeous’ he purred.

Inch by inch he slid them, inch by inch, until at last they fell unceremoniously to hang around your ankles. You shuddered as the cold air hit your wet thighs, and audibly gasped as he spread you wider. The cool air hit your bare pussy right as his calloused finger did.

‘Mi amor’ he breathed.

Your leg twitched as he spread your lips, coaxing just the tip of his finger against your clit. Your hips bucked and he chuckled.

‘Just—f-f, be quick, please—’ you panted. You heard him tutting again, but most of all you heard him shifting his feet. He was getting into a more stable position.

‘Okay, okay. Mi amor is impatient. I got it.’

His hand retracted and in seconds you felt the warm bite of his bare skin on yours. He yanked his own loose joggers down and let the thick, wet tip of his cock brush your clit, nudging at it with aggravating slowness.

‘You want quick? Alright, let’s make this a quickie then.’

With a rough grunt Miguel slipped his cock up into your cunt with one smooth thrust, bottoming out in barely a second. You were winded by the force.

You could feel his body was now taut against yours, crushing you hard into the counter. You could feel his muscled, fat thighs against your legs, his balls squeezing against your pussy lips, his pelvis squishing your ass up and his curved belly against your back.

Miguel sighed, hard, and then immediately went into pounding you against the kitchen top.

You lay forward and you took it, letting him unload all of the days stress inside you.

He started out fast and hard, with one hand on your hip over the curve of the counter and the other holding your wrists behind your back. He was grunting hard and breathing harder, open mouth panting so loudly that you could hear it over the rain.

Every two or so pumps he’d let out a sweet, low, husky moan, and you’d tense so hard he felt it.

The sensory overload began to spiral you into a brainless puddle of mewling pleasure. The hard smack of his hips on yours, the soft squish of his warm, thick belly on your back, the sound of skin on skin clapping as his hefty thighs dug you into the sharp counter edge, and most of all the embarrassing squishy noise of his cock bullying your pussy, it was euphoric.

Between the vigorous fucking and the sweet symphony of noise, you snapped.

‘F-Fuck, daddy—’

‘Oh, good, good’ he groaned. ‘Ay coño—say that again, please.’

‘Daddy—’

The word was beaten from your mouth as he thrust you into breathlessness. Every pump of his hips jolted you almost two inches forward, filling you with his thick shaft, and every quick snap back dragged you down with him.

‘Miguel, mm—daddy—’

Your toes tensed and scrabbled against the smooth kitchen floor, desperate for any kind of stabilisation as he threw your body back and forth against the countertop. He was hitting deep, desperately pounding and rubbing against your sweet, velvety cunt. He wanted to feel those muscles squeeze every ounce of stress out of his body.

‘Mm—one more time, one more time, come on—’

‘Daddy, please—’

You could feel sweat beading on his belly and on your back, which turned the erotic smack even more enticingly wet. Sweat dripped down your forehead onto the counter as you screamed.

‘AH—!’

‘You wanna call me old now, huh? Mm, fuck, take it— Take it—'

You started to pant in time with each thrust, a quick and rhythmic beat that just kept increasing in pitch. He was getting harder.

‘Uhn—uhn—uhn—uhn—’

‘F-Fuck that’s it—’

With a dreamy little smirk Miguel grabbed the used spatula and gently tapped your spine, indicating his plan. You moaned.

‘Please, fuck—’

The smack made you scream as he thwacked your right buttock with the smooth side of the wood. You felt his fingers squeezing and petting the little red mark as he continued to thrust, soothing out the sweet pain.

‘Good, good, well done’ he purred. ‘Is that good, mi amor? You want another?’

‘Please, please yes—’

Thwack.

You were drooling at this point, your thick saliva coating the counter in smears. He could feel your legs shaking, your cunt quivering as he thrust into it. You heard him groan.

‘I want you to cum for me’ he panted, dropping into his typical bark of a voice. He was ordering you. ‘You’re going—mm—you’re going to cum on my cock, you got that?’

‘Y-Yes’ you mewled back.

Miguel drew back until his cock was tenderly pushing only about three or so inches inside you. He took one good look here, admiring his veiny shaft slowly pumping in and out of your perfect, creamy little hole, before shifting his free hand down and beneath your belly.

He lay his own hefty body over your lower spine until you were nearly crushed, and he began to stimulate your swollen clit as he pulsed his cock.

Your hips jerked, your feet scrabbling at the floor. You screamed as he tugged on your wrists.

‘There, mi amor, así así’ he praised breathlessly. 'Así así.’

You physically stamped your foot as he drew his cock bath and forth over your g-spot. It was almost too good, too stimulating. Drool pooled and slipped from your wet lips as you pleaded for release.

‘Pl—please, please—p-please—’

You squirmed hard in his vice-like grip, but he wouldn’t let up. He pumped you until you squirted all over his soft, rounded belly, coating his hairy pelvis with pearly strings. He pumped harder.

‘Come on, come on—’

You blurted a few gibberish phrases before screaming into your own orgasm, and with a satisfied groan Miguel allowed himself to cum inside you. As you tensed and clenched and quivered he filled you up nicely, pumping rope after rope of hot, thick cum into all the space he could find. You tightened so hard you could feel every vein on his shaft pulsing as it expanded and relaxed.

‘Ah…. Ah, f—fuck….’

Miguel drained himself empty and then slowly slipped out. ‘Fuck... I needed that so badly. Thank you, thank you mi amor.'

You were left standing at the counter with shaky legs. The apron was now stuck to your skin by sweat, sticking to every contour, and your thighs were unbelievably wet. You felt something warm slide down your inner thigh to the floor and winced.

‘Ah…. A-ah…’

Miguel came in to kiss the crown of your head. You felt his hands helping to pull your joggers up as he pet your hips, soothing over the little red marks he'd left. ‘Mi amor’ he whispered affectionately. ‘Mi amor.’

You leaned into his touch as he rocked you. His kisses trailed down from your hair to your shoulder, smothering you in post-cum affection. You could feel the sweat on his shirt where it was clinging to his pecs. You giggled internally at how hard you'd made him work.

'Are you okay?' he whispered.

'Yeah. Yeah I'm fine, Miggy.'

'Are you sure?' he insisted. You let out a breathy little laugh.

‘I am, very sure. Well, I mean.... Look, that was, amazing, but—I-I don’t know if I can finish cooking'.

Miguel tilted his head and noted the way your legs were trembling beneath you, and slowly a sympathetic smile spread across his face.

‘Yeah…. Do you, want to maybe just order something in?’ he asked softly.

You eagerly nodded. ‘Yeah. Yeah. Let’s just order in.’

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #smut #miguel o'hara smut #atsv miguel #+18 or +adult only #dadbod miguel #smut fanfiction

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soundlessdreamss · 3 months

Text

Lovely Riddance p2

link to part one here

the first post got a lot of attention so I finally decided to work on the second part. Lol.

Also I am sick rn so I’m trying to do all my requests, but they are still open if you’d like to request something!

Y!Alastor x reader x Y!Lucifer

If you ask me why I put the seal there, I honestly don’t know.

After you and Alastor had left the hotel he teleported the both of you to the hotel. It kinda scared you since you forgot he could teleport for a moment. He already made a reservation so it wasn’t that long of a wait. (The hostess was afraid of Alastor though since he has quite a reputation)

A waiter quickly brought the menu and gave you guys a couple minutes to find out what you’d like to order. When Alastor already picked his order you were still wondering what to order, so he looked around and he couldn’t help but notice at the corner of his eye, that someone was watching the both of you. He didn’t know who was stalking the both of you but he had a suspicion it was Lucifer.

Lucifer didn’t think that Alastor didn’t notice how he treated you when Lucifer first visited. He saw how Lucifer looked at you, how he spoke to you, and his aura around you.

So if Lucifer really was the one who is stalking the both of you right now, Alastor had to play his cards just right in order to manipulate you, and piss off Lucifer.

Once you finally picked what you wanted to order, Alastor called over the waiter and placed in both of your orders. During the time you both were waiting for your food you couldn’t help but realize how touchy and romantic he became.

He started brushing his hand on yours, pointing out your lovely features, what good taste you have in fashion, basically anything that would help him woo you.

Lucifer watching from a window was enraged, how did Alastor think he could just do that to you? He understands that you two haven’t met in a long time but you didn’t forget the bond you too had, did you?

He protected during your time in hell because he knew you were already there, and he couldn’t have you getting hurt now could he? (He was basically stalking you the entire time you were in hell.)

Seeing how Alastor treated you made him want to kill Alastor on the spot, but he worried that if he did you would see him as a monster. So he just had to wait a bit to cover up Alastor’s death as a disappearance. It would make sense anyways, since Alastor had left for 7 years prior.

Alastor was trying different ways to woo you, and it was working. You felt your face heat up a bit during times where he brushed his hand on yours, pulled away some hair strands from your hair, and when he gave you tons of compliments.

He kept doing this until both of your orders came and you guys took a small break to eat what you ordered.

Once you guys finished you meals he paid for it and then took you somewhere that he said was “special”. (Lucifer followed behind you guys without you knowing)

He took you somewhere beautiful and led to you a bench to sit down with him and admire the scene. His plan was working. Now the last thing he needed to do was to propose his deal to you.

“My dear, [y/n] you should probably know how I feel about you by now. Especially after all those hints I gave you. So may I ask you of a favor?”

That was very unexpected for you to hear from Alastor, but it “made your heart race. “What favor would you like to ask from me?”

“I would like to propose a deal for you dear. Yes I’d own your soul, but in a way you’d technically own mine as well. What I’m saying is that we’d both be at each others beck and call.” He then offered his hand to you. “So do we have a deal?”

This was a deal that was hard to resist, the idea of it made your heart sink but also squeal with joy. Did that mean he like wanted to be yours officially?

You found yourself almost about to shake his hand to confirm the deal, but before you could someone interrupted.

“DON’T SHAKE HIS FUCKING HAND!”

….

PART THREE COMING SOON.

TAGLIST: @slimeygirlowo @pooplyface1423 @fabii275 @killer-nightmare0 @caniseethefourthsword @myluckymoon

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader

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macfrog · 10 months

Text

welcome home cowboy like me chapter five

he's back!!! and he's putting up DECORATIONS part v is yours, loves. if ya wanna read the first four (!! how did we get here) parts, you can check out my masterlist right here 😊 as always your support means the WORLD to me. i love talking with y'all & hearing your thoughts. lmk what we think of this one!!!

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel requests your help to decorate his house for sarah’s return…and a few other things, too

warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! the smut is smutting. oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it the fuck UP), praise kink, lil bit of overstimulation, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), un poco consumption of alcohol, cursing, soft!joel at the end tbh i'm a sucker for him

word count: 5.4k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

It’s where this was headed anyway, wasn’t it? You’ve fucked around with Joel three times now, and none of your clothes have ever made it off your bodies. This is a first. You’ve never had an empty house plus the time and space to really do it. Always someone about to walk in, or someone waiting for one of you. When, if not right this fucking second? “I want,” you breathe, fingers now taking hold of the waistband of his black boxers, “you,” you slip them down, “inside me,” exposing the base of his hard cock, “right now.”

The two front legs of your chair scrape against the wooden floor as you lift it to sit down. Your dad had an early finish today, so said he’d cook dinner. From scratch.

He’d refused your help when you offered to keep an eye on the chicken, was more offended when you said you’d cook the asparagus, and now, looking at your scrunched nose as you stare down at the lumpy mashed potatoes, looks just plain insulted.

“Sit, eat, don’t say a word.”

“I offered to help.”

His fork hits off the porcelain plate and he sighs. “I had a lot to tend to, alright?”

“Chicken, asparagus, and…mashed potatoes?” you say, dragging your fork through the mash – though it’s more lump than it is mash.

“Eat. It.”

You tuck in, ignoring the rattle of the table as you tug your knife back and forth to cut the chicken. Your dad’s face reddens as you chew your way through his meal.

“How was work?”

You throw your mouthful back your throat with a gulp and take a big swig of water. “Good,” you try not to choke out, “Sal let me go early ‘cause it was so quiet.”

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Bill was in lookin’ for screws or something. Was Anna who helped him–”

Your sentence is cut short by your dad’s ringtone, and he leans back in his chair to the sideboard behind to retrieve it.

“Yep?” he says, and you know who’s on the other end. Yep? means Joel. “Shoot, I forgot to ask her. Well, she’s right here, gimme a sec.”

He covers the bottom of his phone with his palm, and nods toward you.

“You alright to head over to Joel’s tonight ‘n help ‘im with the house for Sarah comin’ home?”

You narrow your eyes, head tilting. “What…?”

“He’s got some banner or something. Joel, what is it you got? Yeah, a banner. Decorations.”

He cocks an eyebrow and looks at you blankly.

You slowly nod, teeth pulling asparagus off your fork. “I can help.”

“She’ll be over in a bit, Joel. Alright. Alright. Bye, now.”

The phone is thrown onto the table with a clatter. Your dad silently resumes eating.

You clear your throat, trying to sound normal over something you feel very not normal about.

“You volunteerin’ me for things again? I thought we talked about this when you told Rita I’d fix up her flowerbeds for her.”

“Oh, we’re bringin’ up the past, are we?”

“Just sayin’,” you mutter, staring down at your lumpy potatoes.

“Wasn’t me, anyways. Joel asked for you specially this afternoon. Told him you were workin’, he said to ask you when you got back. Was his idea.”

Was it, now? That’s…interesting.

“What time’s he wanting me over?”

“Whenever. He’s in all night.”

Suddenly you’re not so hungry for overcooked chicken and not-mashed potatoes anymore.

You swallow down what you can – what’s edible, anyway – and head upstairs to get ready. Trying to act casual enough that your dad won’t sense your eagerness.

Sure, just grabbing my shoes. I just want the house to look nice for Sarah. It’s really her I’m thinking of. Okay, cool, see you, bye.

You throw a pair of sneakers on, check yourself once over in the mirror, and grab your keys.

“That was quick,” your dad remarks when you reach the bottom of the stairs. He’s still powering through his asparagus.

“Just…wanna get it done. For Sarah, y’know.”

He nods. “You lookin’ forward to havin’ her back? Your ol’ pal?”

“Sure. Alright, I’m off. Don’t wait up.”

You practically throw yourself out the front door before he can get another word in, striding over to your car. You’re thankful when the late sun hits you to only be in sweat shorts and a vest top; it may be seven in the evening, but the heat is still stifling.

You pull up in Joel’s drive and climb out, giving the neighborhood a quick scan as you walk over to the front door, trying not to skip. Being handed an excuse to spend a few hours alone with him in an empty house feels like winning the lottery, you’re a little embarrassed to admit.

Joel’s in the living room laying out the decorations he’s bought when you walk in. He’s wearing a denim shirt and white Rangers tee underneath, his regular old jeans on the bottom.

His Hello is comprised of a glance up, a lift of his eyebrows, and a quick scan over your body as you approach. You take a deep breath to dissipate the bubbling feeling in your stomach.

“So, you asked for me specially, huh?”

He nods. “It was either you or your dad, and his ass ain’t as nice to look at as yours.”

“Oh, nice. Glad to be of service. Looks good,” you muse, nodding downward.

The supplies are sprawled out over the coffee table between you both. A huge banner folded up; the beginning of the word Welcome visible. A few packets of multi-colored streamers, balloons, and other gold and silver colored stuff lay around it.

“Probably won’t use it all,” Joel says, sniffing. “Just wanted to give her a big welcome home.”

“All my dad did was pick me up at the airport,” you scoff.

Joel looks up, misses a beat, then says, “Well, your welcome home gift is me.”

“Ha. Good one. C’mon. Let’s get started.”

You task Joel with blowing up balloons while you balance along the back of his couch to tape streamers to the top of the walls. It’s a struggle, though, since Joel keeps tying balloons and hitting them over to you, aiming for your head. He titters to himself when your hair begins to go static.

“That funny to you?” you yell, whacking the fifth balloon out of your face.

“Yeah,” he chuckles back. “You should see your hair, kid.”

By the time the streamers are suspended from the ceiling, dancing in the breeze from the open windows, Joel’s out of breath and sweating.

“Hard fuckin’ work,” he mutters, taking off his shirt. He throws it onto the couch without looking, but still, you suspect he knows exactly what you’ll do.

With a sideward glance to him, you lean back and fish it from the couch, throwing it over yourself. There’s something intoxicating about wearing his clothes, smelling him all over yourself, feeling the warmth from his body. Joel knows it. When he glances over at you to see his shirt hanging off your shoulders, he smirks.

“I think we deserve a break,” he says, eyes lingering.

When he makes off for the kitchen, you throw yourself down on his couch, head falling back against the soft cushions.

He returns with two beers, handing one down to you before laying back beside you. Your shoulders rub against one another as you both take a swig.

“Your dad really didn’t do nothin’? When you got home?”

“I guess you could say he did the barbecue,” you reply, shrugging.

“The neighborhood barbecue, that everyone takes a turn at hostin’? The same one he had you out buyin’ steaks and soda for, two hours before it started?”

“I don’t need a welcome home party. I am the welcome home party.” Your middle finger meets your thumb and you give your wrist a shake in the air, and Joel laughs.

“You deserve one.”

“You wanna throw me one?”

“Can do. If you want.”

You smile in response.

A few moments of silence pass. Comfortable silence. You lie, temple resting against Joel’s shoulder, listening to the trees in his back yard rustle, the birds singing. Peaceful, tranquil. Content.

You like talking with Joel. You like when he’s doing other stuff to you, sure, but you like just being around him. It’s different to spending time with anyone else his age. They all want to ask about your future, your career, are you dating anyone?

Joel just lets you be. Doesn’t push nothin’, doesn’t make you worry. Just wants to make you feel good.

Both mentally and physically, of course.

“Heard any more from Arthur Kennedy?” you ask, more just to hear his voice again than anything. You’re kinda worried he’s falling asleep over there.

Joel takes a deep breath, starts playing with the label on his beer bottle. “Nope,” he says, taking a quick sip, “and don’t wanna.”

“What is it with him, anyways? Why is he the way he is?”

“Just a dirtbag of a man. You get ‘em, y’know? Ain’t none of us really like him. I was pissed at your dad for askin’ him the other day.”

“What does he say at Frank’s? What kinda talk does he give?”

Joel shakes his head like he doesn’t even want to open his mouth. When you nudge him, he clears his throat and then speaks.

“Just all this, ‘I bagged this chick last week’, ‘I was messin’ ‘round with this little beauty’… ‘Tighter ‘n a’ this, ‘Wetter ‘n a’ that. We all know he’s just talkin’ load. The man’s too old to even get an erection anymore.”

You snort. “I bet I could run rings around ‘im, if I ever caught him talking like that.”

Joel half laughs, but it falls apart when his tone gets quietly serious again.

“Just…do me a favor, and stay away from him,” he says in a soft voice. “You’d have me up all night if I thought him ‘n his sleazy hands were anywhere near you.”

He turns his head to lean his jaw on your hair. You think over what he just said. The thought of Joel, awake all night with worry about some sleazeball being within a four-house radius of you makes your stomach flutter.

The idea of him being worried about you. The thought of what he’d do if he ever caught wind Arthur Kennedy had even so much as looked at you twice.

Before your stomach lurches out of your throat with the butterflies soaring around it, you decide to cut the moment short.

“Where’s the banner goin’?” You lean forward, placing your beer on the coffee table and taking hold of the sign.

“Was thinkin’ on that wall,” Joel nods to the wall across from the living room door, “so it’s the first thing she sees when she comes in.”

“Uhuh,” you reply, nodding.

“C’mere,” he says, standing up. “Climb on.”

“Climb on what?”

“My shoulders. I can’t reach all the way up there, what with the TV in the way and all.”

“You’re, like, six feet.”

“It’s a big banner,” he grumbles, kneeling to let you swing your legs over his shoulders. “C’mon. Up.”

“Pfft, okay, old man.”

“Old–? Did you just–? That’s not even funny.”

Joel straightens up and you clutch your stomach with laughter.

“Will you just get on, baby?”

“Alright, alright. Stay still.”

You carefully mount his shoulders and his steady hands wrap around your knees, holding you in place. You wobble as he straightens his legs, lifting you so high your head brushes off the ceiling.

“Alright, be careful. No sudden movements.”

“Right here?” you ask, positioning it.

“Little to the left,” he groans, craning his neck to see. “Right there, that’s it.”

You push the pin through the banner and into the wall, releasing your breath once it’s secured. Joel slowly shuffles over to the other side where you line it up and do the same there.

Once all four corners are in place, he steps back, your legs still wrapped over his neck, and you both admire your teamwork. Joel’s thumbs are gently rubbing your thighs.

“Looks good, huh?”

“Mhm,” you reply. “Anything else to go up?”

“Nah. That’ll do.”

“You just keepin’ me up here for company, then?” you ask, leaning over to look at his face.

He looks back up at you and snorts. “Sorry, darlin’.”

Joel slowly makes over to the couch and bends a little, letting you dismount him to stand on the leather cushion. You’re only slightly taller than him, even standing on his furniture.

He doesn’t take his eyes off you, scanning from your lips down to your chest, curtained by his shirt, then over your stomach and down your legs. You know that look. You’ve seen it enough by now. It means…

“What’s next?” you innocently ask, and his eyes snap back up to your face.

Instead of answering, he steps forward, taking your waist in his hands and pulling you against him. His chin tilts up and you smile as you dip your head, connecting your lips.

You immediately deepen the kiss, feeling Joel’s hunger, and satiating your own, too. Your arms drape over his shoulders, relaxing as his form holds you, allowing you to fold into him.

His arms take a grip of you as he bends at the waist, lowering you both down onto the couch, laughing against each other’s lips. He pulls your thighs apart to lean his hips between yours.

His hands begin exploring your body, feeling from your hips over your breasts, making you moan into the kiss, and settle on the collar of his shirt, pushing the sleeves down your shoulders to remove it. In return, your fingers find the hem of his tee and pull it up over his midriff, hunger growing with each hot second that passes.

He leans back, giving you room to whip the shirt over his head, before his naked torso is back on you. His fingers then dance along the waistband of your shorts, untying them whilst his other hand plays at the hem of your vest.

Your shorts lying loose on your hips, he peels your top off of your body, and your shoulders lift to let it over your head. Joel takes the opportunity while your back is off the couch to unclip your bra, throwing the article to the floor.

“Nice,” you whisper into his mouth, and he chuckles in response.

His bare chest, decorated lightly with dark brown hair, is against yours; his lips move to your neck, biting another mark into the sensitive skin. Your head tilts back and you let out a moan, wanting more, but Joel’s taking his time. He’s making every second count.

You buck your hips against his and he lifts his head, giving you a knowing smirk and obeying your silent request. He begins making his way down, not forgetting to stop off by your tits and run his tongue over your nipples.

Your hands find home in his hair and your back arches some as he caresses the hardened buds, lips forming an O shape to suck on one while tending to the other with his thumb and index finger.

When you whine and your hips lift a second time, he moves across your tummy and toward your lowering shorts.

Eyes glazed with lust, you watch as he yanks them down, your panties the only thing separating you from him now. You hear your shorts hit the floor when he drops them, and places a wet kiss over your clothed cunt.

“Joel,” you moan, head falling back against the cushion. He’s driving you fucking insane.

“Mhm,” he murmurs, kissing the insides of your thighs. “Tell me, baby, tell me what you want.”

You writhe under his touch; he’s so close, and yet so far.

“Your tongue,” you whimper.

“Huh? Can’t hear you over your moanin’, pretty girl.”

“Fuck– Need your fucking tongue,” you say as clearly as you can, still whining some.

“Good girl.”

He uncovers your soaking cunt and tears – literally, tears – your panties off of your body, balling them up in a tight fist. You gasp, both delighted and relieved, watching him discard the ripped fabric by his side.

Neither of you give a fuck. You’re desperate to feel each other, be on each other, be in each other.

He dips his head to your sex, and drags a long stripe up to your clit, collecting your juices on his tongue as he does. His tongue runs between your folds, swirling around, licking and threatening to dip further, before he lifts away again.

You let out a long moan, hands still tugging at his hair, attempting to push his head harder on your pussy. He doesn’t budge.

“Patience, baby,” he’s whispering, lowering his chin again to place his soft lips against your swollen clit.

He knows what he’s fucking doing – teasing you and making you wait like this. He wants it to build, really build, before you cum. He’s not cutting any corners.

His lips center over your bud, tongue tapping against it as he sucks, and brings his fingers up to sift through your folds. Your cunt aches for him; your hips find rhythm against his mouth as you fuck yourself off of him, and he lets you.

Feeling how wet you are, he plunges two long, curved fingers into your pussy, and your back, sticky with sweat, peels off of the couch for the second time.

“Fuck, Joel,” you gasp, feeling the stretch of his fingers inside you.

He hums against you, the vibrations of his deep voice pleasuring you more. He’s loving it as much as you are; tasting you, hearing you, breathing all of it in like it’s fresh air to his lungs.

Your breathing begins to falter, your chest rising and falling, your entire body ignited by his touch. You’re panting his name over and over, whining every time his fingers hit the spongey walls of your cunt.

He’s so fucking good at this.

He removes his fingers and replaces them with his lips, mouth planted firmly against your pussy. You widen your legs and he pushes down on your thighs, keeping them apart to make room for his jaw against your core, tongue licking between your folds again.

“Tongue,” you remind him.

“I hear ya,” he mumbles, and opens his lips.

His wet tongue slips into your cunt like it’s made to be there. You screw your eyes shut, pushing your upper back into the couch to lift your ass to him. His top lip cups around your clit as he eats you out, moans strumming against your sex, tongue exploring your wet hole.

“I’m close,” you whisper, and he removes his lips for two seconds to tell you to “Keep goin’, baby.”

“Doin’ so well for me,” he laps at your juices, “taste so fucking good, beautiful.”

He inserts his fingers again to bring you nearer your climax, and your mind starts to blank. You know what’s coming.

You can’t even form the shape of his name with your mouth as you draw nearer and nearer to your high; all you can focus on is the feeling of his hand fucking you, pumping in and out of your tight pussy, the way his tongue soaks your clit, the rutting of your hips all over his face.

It’s so fucking filthy, and so fucking good.

When Joel’s voice breaks through the fog in your brain, telling you to “Let go, baby, I’m here,” you obey him.

The edges of the room start to bleed white as your body lifts, fingers gripping onto Joel’s hair, hips digging further into the cushion.

It’s only ten o’clock; for all you know, Joel’s neighbors might be out in their backyard enjoying the warm night breeze. Do you care? Fuck no. You cry his name loud enough that the whole street might hear.

He coaxes you through it, drinking in your orgasm, moaning when your walls lock around his fingers and you cover his tongue in your sweet wet.

He slips his soaked fingers from your core and you whine at the loss; Joel makes up for it by gently massaging your aching clit as you come down, spreading your cum all over you.

“That’s it, baby, did so good. That felt good, huh?”

Still coming to, you don’t reply; you feel his weight back on top of yours, his safe arms wrapping around your shoulders.

“’s okay, darlin’,” he coos as your sight starts to return. He peppers your neck with gentle, wet kisses, bringing you back to earth.

Before even you realize it, your fingers are grasping at his jeans, blindly trying to undo the button and zipper. Joel laughs, lifting his hips to give you better access.

You giggle, loosening them and hauling them past his hips, and he sits up to drag them down his legs and shove them off near your shorts.

“What now, sweet girl?”

Your voice is low, serious. Barely above a whisper.

“Fuck me.”

He almost looks taken aback. As if he never thought he’d hear those words escape your lips. Like he’d been pushing you, further and further, expecting you to always hold back, always bounce back from the edge.

And here you are, clutching his arms and hauling him over with you.

It’s where this was headed anyway, wasn’t it? You’ve fucked around with Joel three times now, and none of your clothes have ever made it off your bodies. This is a first.

You’ve never had an empty house plus the time and space to really do it. Always someone about to walk in, or someone waiting for one of you. When, if not right this fucking second?

“I want,” you breathe, fingers now taking hold of the waistband of his black boxers, “you,” you slip them down, “inside me,” exposing the base of his hard cock, “right now.”

Joel’s eyes darken just as his huge cock bounces free from his underwear.

He’s watching your lips breathe out the words like it’s all he ever wanted to hear, all he’s thought about since that first night with your hands on his thighs, looking up at him so innocently.

Just waiting to be fucking ruined by him.

You slur the words again. “F-fuck me.”

“Yeah? ‘s that what you want?”

“Mhm.”

He’s kneeling over you now, helping you tug the underwear down his legs, precum-coated tip of his cock drawing circles on your stomach.

When he’s fully naked, he presses his body against yours, speaking to you between hot, wet kisses.

“You sure you can take it, pretty girl?”

“I’m sure,” you reply, lust taking over any remnants of your orgasm. Just fucking fuck me.

Joel’s hips raise, and he looks down to guide his cock to your hole. You bring your knees up, positioning them just under his biceps.

“Good,” he mumbles under his breath.

You’re so wet that when he runs his shaft through your folds, slicking himself up, his tip kisses the entrance of your cunt, drawing a gasp from you and a growl from Joel. You’re desperate for him to just slide in, make himself at home where he belongs, between your hips.

And when he does, it’s fucking euphoric.

He’s big. You knew this already. But feeling him inside you is different.

He pushes in halfway first, letting you get used to him.

“Okay?” he asks quietly.

You nod; your voice catches in your throat as he falls out of you, just to thrust in again and let his cock dive through your soaked, swollen folds straight into your warm cunt.

He’s so big that when he bottoms out inside you for the first time, your mouth falls open wordlessly, and your brain shuts down for a few minutes. Nothing but the feeling of him slipping in and out of your cunt slowly, fucking you dumb.

When he knows you can take him, he picks up the pace, dragging his hips back and forth against yours, filling you up until his tip kisses the edge of your cervix, and pulling out until he’s between your folds again.

You’re holding onto his shoulders like you’re hanging off a cliff edge. The feeling of his hot skin under your arms is the only thing keeping you grounded right now; the pressure between your legs with each thrust of his huge cock threatening to pull you off the edge of the abyss.

When his voice breathes in your ear between his groans, you snap back to reality. Thighs burning, nails scratching, pussy throbbing reality.

“You okay, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“Let me hear you, pretty girl, tell me how good it feels.”

He’s going faster still, balls smacking against your ass every time he bottoms out, sighs and whimpers passing your lips.

You whine his name, telling him, “Harder,” and he obliges, hips snapping ever stronger. His pubic bone grinds against your clit as he thrusts, the pressure spreading spots of pure bliss across your vision.

You look down to where your bodies connect, mesmerized by the sight of his cock pumping in and out of you. It turns you on even more.

“We look good, huh?” his voice lulls from above, and you look back up to find him watching you.

He dips his head and kisses you, and you start to near your second high.

“Joel,” you mewl, the feeling so good you can’t even form the words to tell him.

He knows, anyway.

“So good, baby,” he’s panting, sweaty forehead leaning against yours, “gonna cum all over me again?”

You nod, eyes screwing shut. He’s fucking you so good you’re barely remembering to breathe.

“Let go, darlin’, let me hear you,” he whispers, and you fold.

Joel bites into the crook of your neck and lets out a loud groan as he feels your pussy clamp around him. He fucks you through it, only slowing for a few seconds to let it wash over you, then picks the pace straight back up when you quieten and your breathing calms.

You’re so fucking overstimulated, but he’s not done, and you know what he wants. You want something, too. Maybe you two could work together.

“Joel?”

“Mhm?” He’s gone quiet, chasing his own high. You hear his breathing stammer when you say it.

“Want you to do it from behind.”

“Beh–” He’s almost gasping for breath, but when he understands what you mean, he wastes no time.

Wordlessly, he loosens his grip on you and pushes himself up, dick slipping out. You moan at the feeling of emptiness as it pulls out of you.

He gives you space to turn over, helping you move further up the couch with steady hands on your hips. When you settle, he lifts your ass up.

“Not gonna last long, baby,” he tells you, and you nod. Your right ear lies flat, sweat sticking you to the leather, hands splayed out above your head gripping the cushions.

You feel him line up again, his thighs against yours. Your breathing jilts as his head pushes in, followed by his shaft, filling you up, deeper and deeper until his balls kiss your clit.

You let a deep moan pass your lips. Joel groans, hips leaving your ass, only to smack into them again as he fucks you even deeper from this position.

He’s stretching you out more than you thought possible, cock spearing into you, tears swelling across your half-shut eyes. The feeling, the pain, too good to ask him to stop, but so overwhelming you can feel every thought, every instinct, every other feeling, leave your body with every thrust.

Joel’s all you know. He’s all you want to know.

Your legs start to give, and he places his rough hands on your waist to hold you up, pumping in and out of you at a punishing pace.

“Joel…” you whine.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m there, too.”

You feel his weight pushing on the back of your thighs and open your eyes to see him leaning over you, hands placed either side of your head. You lace your fingers with his and let him fuck you, totally mindless to everything around you except for the man at your ass, pummeling his dick inside you so deep your cunt is aching.

It pushes you over the edge.

Your walls squeeze his dick, threatening to pull him over with you. Your vision blanks for the third time tonight; what energy you have left is poured into the filthy cry which escapes your lips as Joel’s hard cock splits you open.

“So tight, baby, good fuckin’ girl.”

Joel begins to falter, his thrusts become sloppy, and he pushes your ass off of him so not to finish inside you. You kinda feel disappointed, wishing he’d just stay inside and fill you to the brim with his cum.

Joel gives himself a couple more strokes before you feel his seed coat your ass, warm, dripping down the small of your back and the underside of your thighs.

You moan at the feeling of him spilling all over you, the grunts he lets slip as his orgasm washes over him. You smile dumbly at the thought that you’re the one doing this to him; you’re the one covered in his cum. You’re his, even if it’s only in this moment.

He’s panting behind you. He almost collapses on top of your back, propping himself on his elbows to keep some of his weight off.

He gently leans down and nuzzles his nose against your ear, eliciting a quiet giggle from you.

“You okay?” he breathes.

You nod. “Better than okay.”

“You sore?”

“A little.”

“Baby…” he coos, and pushes himself up.

You sigh as his weight leaves you, and you hear his footsteps pad into the kitchen. You stay put, in part to keep from staining Joel’s couch with…well, Joel, but mostly because you’re too fucked-out to even move. Too fucked to feel your thighs, your back, never mind between your legs.

Joel returns with paper towel, and softly wipes from your back to your thighs, cleaning up his mess. He massages your muscles as he goes, and your eyes shut over with the sweet feeling.

When he’s done, he rolls you over and takes hold of your ankle, pulling you down the leather to his grasp, where he puts his tee over your head and helps you feed your arms through the sleeves. The Rangers logo sits just below your chest.

He pulls his boxers back on, before taking your outstretched arms and scooping you up in his. Your head falls limp in the crook of his neck, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

He carries you, completely dazed and fucked, out of the living room and upstairs. He makes a right at the top, down the dim hallway, past the same closet he went down on you in just two days ago, toward a door at the end. He knocks it open and takes you through.

Even in your half-sleeping state, you know exactly where you are. You’re in Joel’s bedroom.

You’ve been in here before, maybe only a couple times, when Sarah’s needed something or you’ve accompanied your dad to help repair something for Joel, but it feels different now.

It’s dark, the sun almost set on the other side of the house and the streetlights’ glow a burning orange right above Joel’s headboard.

He carries you over to the left side of the bed and lays you down in his soft sheets. He tucks you under the comforter and bends to place a long, tender kiss on top of your head.

You begin to swim in and out of sleep, waking to find him folding your clothes into a neat pile by the bedside, then again to watch him set a glass of water on the nightstand.

Your eyes are glued shut with exhaustion when you feel him lift the duvet behind you and slip in, taking your waist under his forearm and pulling you flush against his frame.

You listen to the faint sound of a cell phone dialing, and then hear his voice; soft, hushed, but still normal Joel.

“Hey, man. Yeah, no, everything’s fine. We were pretty late finishin’ up with these decorations, and then The Shining was on TV, so we stayed up to watch it. She’s pretty exhausted. I let her take Sarah’s room, I hope that’s okay?”

Your dad’s voice is faint down the line as you begin to drop off in Joel’s arms.

“Sure thing, thanks, Joel. You kick her out first thing, you hear? Don’t want her holdin’ you up for gettin’ Sarah.”

When you hear him slide his cell back onto his nightstand, you mumble something incoherent into his arm.

“What, darlin’?” Joel asks, head lifting to hear you better.

“I said, great welcome home party. Thanks.”

His lips press lightly on your shoulder, his breath hot on your skin. Whatever it is he says, you don’t hear it, already long gone to a deep, comfortable sleep.

----------

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#joel miller #joel miller fic #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #cowboy like me

1K notes · View notes

moronkombat · 6 months

Note

hi, can i request MK characters with an earthrealmer s/o who likes to bake & cook food for them? also, hope you get well soon!! 🥰

Reiko isn't the type of man who eats amazingly delicious foods and treats. Food is a means to an end to have enough energy

If his partner were to cook a meal for him, a well prepared meal, he'd be confused. It is not a lasting feeling, soon he is taken aback by how amazing it is. Who knew food could taste this good? He'll be interested in having more meals like this again

Making a meal for him means just so much to Kenshi. He finds the gesture incredibly loving and thanks you throughout the dinner

While you eat together, he picks up your hand to bring your knuckles to his lips. He kisses there tenderly and tells you that when you making meals for him, it really reminds him of better times

Syzoth cannot eat the typical food that his partner can, doing so would make him horrible ill. That doesn't mean he doesn't get pampered, however

The first time he's surprised and in awe that his lover has made him something just for him, something he can stomach. His eyes find yours and he looks as if he near tears. Syzoth would scoop you up into his arms and thank you for making him a meal so special

Prefers sweet treats more than savory meals. Is rather pleased when he is surprised with them and thanks his partner with his tongue in...various ways

Prefers to share the treat with you but this often ends up in bedroom activities taking place within the kitchen area. Neither of you seem to complain

Rain finds this endearing and enjoys eating the meals his lover has made together

When you cook for him, he wants to sit down and eat it with you. Rain is typically not a domestic type of man but this is one of those rarities

Shang thinks you cooking for him is...cute and he will lightly jest and tease his partner about it

He is grateful though and always eats the meal that's made for him and compliments you on your skills with preparing delicious meals

Quan Chi isn't used to warm meals so he is, at first, taken aback by his partner preparing one for him

Being a slave in the mines, he is not used to such luxury but now that he's had a taste of it, Quan Chi is seldom to give it up

Reminds him of times with his late family. His mother used to cook meals for him and sister

Tomas is thankful to have meals like this again and even wants to start cooking them with you

Thinks he is being unfair in terms of how you are always cooking for him. He wants to make it up to you

Raiden tries to surprise you with something he's prepared but it does not go to plan. The cake he tried to make? Too much flour, not enough butter...it's a mess! You still thank him and then offer to make one with him

Loves when his partner cooks for him. He could eat a mountain of it and still not be sated

Kung Lao is excited whenever you walk into that kitchen. He's already thinking about how good the food is going to taste

Bi-Han really enjoys whatever you prepare for him. He doesn't have a favorite or preference. He is merely glad to have something to eat that was created by you

Tries his very best to eat the meals with you. He can be extremely busy as Grandmaster but when you have made him a meal, Bi-Han wants to share it with his lover

General Shao is quite pleased when his partner cooks and bakes for him. He expects such a service provided to him by his partner

His partner prepares grand meals for him and there is never a crumb left. Shao always boasts about his lover is more fantastic than any chef

Can't get enough of your cooking. It is his absolutely favorite and looks forward to it every night

Johnny could eat plate after plate if left unchecked. Using his social media to showcase your culinary prowess

Thinks it is sweet. Liu Kang doesn't have many preferences when it comes to home cooked meals as he enjoys visiting Madam Bo's but he makes an exception for his lover

Is always very gracious and polite, complimenting your cooking. And, of course, he insists with dining with you

Is honored that you would prepare meals for him and thanks you before even beginning to eat one

Really wants to return the gesture, and so, he does! Kuai Liang prepares you something wonderful that you can enjoy together

It can be difficult for him to stomach certain foods but he tries to eat all the meals you prepare for him

These meals remind him of time with his family and he can become quite saddened by this and may begin to stare off into the distance

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hollyhomburg · 8 months

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.58)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Your nightmares are a troubling development but the pack won't let you drown. They have different ideas on how to help you. Some more damaging than others.

Tags: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Fluff, Cuddling, scent marking, Nightmares, graphic depiction of fake character death, Discussions of past rape, No explicit depictions of past rape/sexual assault, past domestic-abuse, flashbacks, safe-wording during sex (Sorta), unpleasant sexual encounters, under-negotiated kink, mentioned sex toys, crying during sex, Sad blow jobs, small dick jungkook, allusions to past eating disorders, anxiety, implied self-hate, self-esteem issues, non-verbal main character.

W/c: 12.9k

A/N: this chapter was originally supposed to be a lot longer- but i got too in depth with it and had to split it up. This is easily one of the more heavy chapters of bily (and that's saying something), so please be mindful of the tags! For anyone wanting to skip the super triggering parts in the next chapter i've highlighted a sentence in red font both after the first triggering section and before the very triggering ending.

Special thanks to @imperiussexrex for helping me with jk's part <3 they're the bestest <3

Previous Chapter- Masterlist

"Sleep well, my lovely little spy."

Jin’s eyes flutter open, looking up at the beta who's watching him with a gentle but noticeably tense smile. Jin’s mouth is dry, he could pretend he didn’t hear anything but there would be no use. The truth wouldn’t change.

"Holy shit.” Jin’s whole body is ridged. Ready to run. In panic mode. But Yoongi’s hand settles on his shoulder. It’s the same touch as always and just as gentle and kind as it was both this mourning and 6 years ago. Yoongi has always been a kind soul, regardless of every secret Jin's ever learned to love about him.

Letting himself be known in return feels a little bit more perilous. Jin’s heart thuds against his fingertips. He swallows hard.

Yoongi hums, agreeing with Jin’s assessment. He runs a hand gently through Jin’s hair. Tugging away loose a knot. “Holy shit indeed.”

Everything is fine. In the wake of the dead body, everything in the pack is absolutely fine.

(That’s a lie, everything is definitely not fine, everything is in fact- falling apart. Like a butterfly larva worming its way to crystalize. Carving its way towards both womb and tomb. Something that changes you or destroys you.)

Jin and Yoongi can only hope.

It’s only hope after all. How much damage can it really do?

~-~

Your unraveling starts with the Nightmares.

Tonight, it’s a dark tangle of half-forgotten moments. A movie with all of the scariest scenes copied and pasted. Bright punctures of feelings like blood dripping down your chin and the tang of it in your mouth. Geumjae’s scent in your nose as he shoves your mouth against his skin. All of it. Every unhappy memory that your psyche has locked away for later drags you down like the tide would drag a stone to a watery grave.

Until the moments condense like a figure rising through fog and you’re sitting in that house again. The one with the yellow brocade curtains pulled closed across the windows so that no one sees what happens inside.

You're sitting with Geumjae at the dining room table. The elaborate meal in front of you rises with steam and smells divine calling you like a moth to honey. The cutlery is polished so clean that you can see your reflection in it. A million dancing tiny versions of you stare back with vacant doll-like eyes.

You remember this meal; you remember what happened to you on this morning. The soreness between your legs reminds you of that horror. You remember how hard you worked after he left in the morning after leaving you in a bloody heap on the bathroom floor. You remember hoping that if you did everything you absolutely could to prepare this meal, He’d be satisfied and he wouldn’t hurt you again.

But avoiding rape is never quite so easy.

It was foolish to hope back then. Geumjae was a man of routine and he required your body every morning and evening without fail. But hoping is so hard to avoid, like an itch under your skin that demands biting nails, a furious sort of wanting. Hope is nothing more than a chain that drags you through the sludge when you think it might be your buoy.

In this nightmare, the other chairs at the table aren’t empty like they usually are. It’s not just you here.

He must have taken a needle and stitched your mouth shut (like he always threatened) because you feel powerless to scream at Namjoon to get away to stay back. You can do nothing more than watch as he leans over and says something to Geumjae that makes him smile. His smile makes him look like Yoongi; who sits at the head of the table and nurses a glass of wine while scowling.

Jin is on Namjoon's other side, hair combed back from his face in a way that makes Seokjin look absurdly pretty. The picture of delicate omega composure. Each of them eats like they haven't in days, shoveling food into their mouths like it’s their last meal.

Jungkook is by your side and asks if you’re going to eat your dinner roll. Puffy and crusty bread that he never would be able to eat in real life. You watch powerlessly as he scarfs it down like he hasn’t ever eaten anything more delicious. Licking his fingers from the crumbs when he finishes.

Tae is dressed in your jewels this time, not Jimin's. The necklace Geumjae gave you for your second anniversary digs into her collar bones as if it was pinned there. Like a butterfly on a piece of cardboard. Glittering with more diamonds than seem possible. Like one of those Instagram filters, every reflection mark turned glittery. Jimin’s suit is like something out of vogue.

One moment you’re looking at the perfectly edible food and the next you’re watching it rot before your very eyes. The meat greying and melting. The salad wilts gooey and spoiled. The fancy porcelain plates writhing with worms and maggots and creepy crawlies that slither out of nowhere. A spider inches its way up your fork.

No one notices. No one realizes that the bites they bring to their lips are poison. Jin licks his lips, the skin already greying and cracking.

Geumjae looks up at you from his plate, grinning all the while. Collar starched white. You haven’t heard his voice in so long but your mind remembers the exact cadence of it in perfect detail.

“What’s wrong princess? Aren’t you going to eat up?

When you look back at them it's already too late. Namjoon’s slumped in his chair staring blankly forward with bloody eyes. When you look Jin’s got his head half gone. Cut away. Wriggly things curl behind what's left of his eye.

Tae’s collarbones are bleeding where the diamond collar sits. Ribbons drip down her bodice. Jimin’s white shirt is slowly blooming red too. Bullet wounds pepper his chest. One on his shoulder and a cluster of them over his heart.

Jungkook slumps over his plate seizing until he’s still. Still the way that dolls are. Dead. Looking at you with wide vacant eyes that go grey with congealing blood.

Yoongi's hands are burning, fire licking up his clothes and he does nothing to put it out. Burning and bubbling and boiling. Skin peeling up like paint beneath the flames.

Hoseok is the only one not at the table.

Across from you, Geumjae smiles again. Baring his teeth in that animal way of his. “What’s wrong princess? I thought you said you loved them- aren’t you going to try and stop it?”

One moment he’s across the table and the next he’s leaning over you, back in that bedroom that was your hellhole less than a year ago. Pulling you by your hips to the end of the bed when you try to twist away. He fumbles with his belt buckle.

The sheets burn against your skin like its rug burn and although you weakly push at his chest. It feels like you're moving in slow motion. Your strength is nothing compared to his. It never was enough in real life anyway.

“No- no I don’t want- please don’t,” you choke. Trying to get him off of you, when he opens his mouth there are maggots there too.

You never did find out what they did with Geumjae’s body. But now you know as the rotting corpse of your dead husband assaults you. Boney hands grab your wrists as the worms drip out, dangle, and wriggle, falling onto your face and-

One of the terrible things about the big nest upstairs is that it’s really easy to get trapped in the middle with no easy way out.

Hobi finds himself in that position when he wakes. It’s the middle of the night, nearly 3 am probably when he’s roused by the familiar ache in his stomach that tells him he needs to pee.

The shades are pulled across the windows keeping the light out, and what little slips through is kept out by a thin curtain that sections off the nest from the rest of the room. Shielding the familiar lumps of packmates buried beneath the nest slumbering away.

It feels good to have all of you sleeping in one space, the instinctual pleasure flutters and builds on the edge of Hobi’s consciousness as he lifts his head. Barely opening his eyes. It feels homey in the way that Namjoon's rut nest hadn't. It's a true nest, Smelling thick and cakey sweet all of your scents drench it now after a few days of you all sleeping here. After finding the dead body, the decision had been unanimous. No more sleeping separately. No more splitting up between the upstairs nest and the remnants of yours downstairs.

Even though it's a new space some things never change. Jimin still sleeps at the edge near the bottom, guarding the nest from the most logical point of vulnerability. Although that might be because of last week.

The pack has made a few other adjustments in terms of safety since you and Hobi found the dead body. Many a moment has hobi walked into a room with Jin and Yoongi only to have them fall silent. But he doesn't have to ask what new precautions they've agreed upon.

They’ve fallen back into the habit of letting each other know when they get to work safely and when they leave, and when to expect them home (the same habit they had just after yoongi left actually) Phone locations are perpetually turned on just in case. But Hobi knows the only time any of them feel truly settled is when they’re all up here.

The nest is big. Big enough for all of you to sleep comfortably, even all sprawled out. But as thoughtful as Yoongi was when he constructed the space he certainly did not think about how hard it would be to leave for a midnight bathroom break given the walls that close in on three sides.

Now, Hobi is trapped and bound by blankets and fancy pillows and the gently sleeping bodies of his pack all around him. The border is high and fluffed. It’s in an alpha's nature to be careful around his packmates and it goes against something very basic in Hobi to even think about disturbing the carefully placed pillows and blankets, the general purposeful disarray of such a cozy nest. Alphas simply don’t fuck with omega nests.

But on the other hand, he’s seriously stuck.

Namjoon, Jimin, and Jin are at the bottom blocking off the most logical point of egress. Jin’s head rests on Jimin's shoulder, dark hair fanning. Yoongi is tangled up with Tae (her hair in these little puffy rollers). And Jungkook’s star fished and spread out by the top edge, right where Hobi was. His fingers rest under his shirt like he’s been rubbing at his stomach. Snoring softly.

Hobi’s heart swells just looking at them.

The only safe avenue of exit where Hobi won’t be climbing over two people is near the bottom left, close to Jin and Namjoon, where you lie on your side, cheek pillowed. Chest rising up and down a little rapidly in the darkness. It’s so dark that Hobi doesn’t see it at first.

Hobi’s so half-asleep that he doesn’t even realize right away that you’re not as undisturbed as the others. That you occasionally twitch like a puppy.

Hobi is no stranger to maneuvering his lithe body around sleeping packmates, muscles straining as he very gently pulls himself over you. Depressing the mattress by your side. His baggy sleep shirt momentarily brushes your face as he shifts over you.

Your reaction is instinctual, one moment asleep and the next awake. Your scent going sour all at once. Exploding in a rush. You push out with your arms, still in the nightmare.

One second Hobi’s on the bed the next he’s stumbling out of it, Barely keeping himself from falling face-first onto the floor. Bare feet slide on the polished wood when he gets them under him. Cursing out a brief “What the fuck?” looking back, ready to be angry at being shoved.

But then he sees that you're sitting up, trembling so hard that your hands can't grip the blanket to get it off of you. Eyes wide and glassy with panic. You blink and blink, lower lip wobbling.

There is a single moment where he just looks at you, but then you let out a small (and admittedly pathetic) chirp.

There is nothing like a chirp that tugs on an alpha’s hindbrain, that drags Hobi's instincts to the forefront like a hook in a fish's mouth. He's honestly surprised that the sound doesn't wake anyone else. Maybe because it's so quiet, so small.

It’s just a dream, just a very bad dream, and your pack is sleeping softly around you. The next thing you feel is Hobi gently crushing you to his chest. Smelling like caramel and boy. Tenderly whipping back your hair from your face. His warm fingertips press against your tender temples dislodging the last bit of you that can't tell if this is real yet.

“Pup? What’s wrong- what happened?"

Hobi looks about as different from Geumjae as anyone possibly could, his jaw slender where Geumjae was wide, eyes bright where his went dark and hooded. Unthreatening and normal brown in the glow.

But just like the dream, you can’t fucking speak.

“Fuck- it was just a dream, whatever it was- it’s not real- I’m-”

You’re shaking and crying and you can’t respond. Your throat is all tight. All of you that is usually happy and gentle is reduced small and scared and quiet. You can't tell where the shadows end and where reality begins. You can only feel his hands. That's the only thing that feels real beyond the terror.

You can't look around; you can't look around at the others- too scared that they'll be dead.

Thank God for the physical nature of Hobi’s job. Herking bags of soil and 30-gallon trees has honestly done him good because it means he can carry you downstairs with a little effort.

Real panic circles his head like a bunch of buzzards, threatening to pick his heart clean. "Hang on- here we go." He turns on each of the lights one by one by leaning into them. Shoulder hitting the plastic, the two of you safer with each click. "See- there isn't anything to be scared of! There's no one here but us."

Hobi is right, Hobi would never lie to you. This kitchen is not the same one from your nightmares. The blinds are blinds and not curtains, drawn to keep out the streetlights not any prying eyes. The old rickety table where the pack has their meals isn't piled with food at all. Only some tangerines in a wooden bowl in the center.

You’re small and shaky in an extra big shirt of Namjoon’s that pools on your thighs when he places you on gently the countertop with a small 'oof'. You're already a little more lucid, eyes darting from the light to the shadows and still trembling faintly. Hobi knows instantly from the stillness that you’re nonverbal. Mouth uncooperative. Your brain is a mix of misplaced adrenaline and cortisol. You smell terrified.

“It’s okay, it’s just a dream, here-” Hobi fills up a yellow plastic cup with water and tips it against your lips. The cold soothes your throat but not to the point that you can speak. You’re unwilling to detangle yourself from him. Real and warm and there now that you’ve got him. hand tangled in the front of his shirt, clinging to him.

He hums as he dabs a cold dishcloth across on your hot cheeks. “You’re okay- I’ve got you.” You lean into his hands, legs parted so that he can stand between them. You look so sad and so small that Hobi’s heart hurts.

You don’t want to speak, really don’t want to but you force yourself anyways. “Don’t remember them- usually- Or wake up in the middle- sorry- M' sorry.”

Your eyes itch, and your face feels all puffy as he continues to dab at it. The cloth is rough and Cold, but hobi's warm where his skin touches yours.

Alive and safe. you barely want to blink incase you miss it.

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay.” Hobi continues to dab at your cheeks, “You get them often?” You shake your head instead of responding and Hobi’s scent goes thick with upset, burning sugar ever so slightly smokey. You sniffle still sort of crying and Hobi does the only thing he can think of.

Maybe it’s just that he’s half asleep himself, or an expression of his alpha protectiveness. The ringing in his ears says protect packmate, provide for packmate, soothe.

Hobi’s scent gland brushes against yours with an electric zing. Pushing you from shaky to boneless nearly instantaneously. He drags his throat and chin across your left shoulder, and then your right.

it takes real effort for him to keep his palms pressed flat against the kitchen counter while he does it but at least it has the desired effect of banishing the last bit of sogginess from your cakey scent. Your instincts purr alphas here, alphas going to keep you safe, keep the shadows at bay.

Your scent goes sweeter and your half-asleep body goes mailable as you lean into him. Resting your cheek on his shoulder, Hobi huffs a soft laugh. It feels sort of nice, having you close like this. He knows how omega's get, Jungkook goes sleepy puppet soft when he's scent marked this close to sleep too.

Yoongi would want Hobi to do this right? Yoongi would want Hobi to comfort his mate. He’d do it himself if he was awake. Hobi’s just being a good packmate. Right?

The hair on the back of your neck stands on end as he pulls away. Is it just your imagination or is he a little reluctant?

A startled chirp bursts from your lips, and you clamp your hand back over your mouth. but hobi's laugh echoes loud off the high ceilings, "It's alright pup." You try to speak again but Hobi shushes you, there’s no need for you to push yourself. Not with him. Not right now.

The slant of the light across Hoseok’s face isn’t right. Too grey and yellow from the light in the hall. It’s too late for it to be morning yet and too dark for you to quiet your heartbeat. Hobi can feel it, jackrabbit fast against his throat.

If he's here, that means the nightmare really was only that. A nightmare. Hobi wouldn't be wrapped around you if the rest of the pack were dead. You don't need to go back upstairs and double-check.

Now if you could only stop crying.

“Here,” Hobi starts to pull away and you make a panicked sound, fingers tangling in his shirt. “I’m not going anywhere, let me just get my bag-” You shake while he’s gone, sitting on the countertop, stumbling when you get off of it, knees weak. Holding the edge until he comes and gets you with an arm under your shoulders, transferring you effortlessly to the couch.

When did Hobi get so good at this? You’d be inclined to think this was just another dream (one of those shameful ones that you don’t even mention to Yoongi) but you’re not sure you could have dreamed this up.

“Lights off or on?” You shiver so he goes one by one turning on the overhead lights and then the lamps, the ones under the cabinets in the kitchen too. There’s not a hint of shadow here, no monster that he couldn’t guard you from.

You can still see the light behind your eyes when you close them. Blinking slowly like a cat would. Hobi has his headphones in his hand, not his usual earbuds but the dilapidated black over-the-ear headphones with peeling stickers on the sides that have been his almost as long as Yoongi has (they might have been stolen from the record store- back when Yoongi's rebellious streak ran a little wider).

The second they go around your ears the world dampens and your heartbeat slows.

“I’ve got you.” Hobi mouths, reaching to pull your head to lie against his shoulder, the blue light flicker of his phone screen hurts your eyes as he scrolls through some songs and puts one on. It’s slow and soft, mostly instrumental except for faint vocals. You can’t hear what Hobi says but he pulls you to rest against his side. Settling.

He doesn’t make you talk about the nightmare. Doesn’t make you talk at all. You melt, pressing your face into his shoulder as hard as you can, your shaking relaxing with every word. Every soft hum. It’s working, your trembling is only skin-deep now. In a few minutes, you won't be shaking at all.

“Go to bed,” he asks, even though you can't hear him. Pillowed against him. The songs shift quietly. Your hand somehow gets under Hobi’s shirt and presses against the skin of his hip. Holding it softly so that he doesn’t go anywhere, it feels like a bit of a thank you.

You cling to him and he lets you. You probably can’t hear him but he still repeats, “I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you.

~-~

Yoongi’s never shot up faster in his life, leaving part of himself in the dream. He can feel the panic down the bond as he stumbles. The nest is too empty. Yoongi’s sleep-sluggish brain counts the number of bodies and he goes cold when he counts five and not seven. Pure shuddering terror bleeding down his back like he's just been doused with cold water.

Where are you? Where is Hobi? There is something wrong- something seriously wrong. Yoongi can feel it on the back of his tongue, the taste of your despair acidic. Once a familiar feeling, now lashing him like lightning.

Communicating directly through the mating mark isn’t something that happens often anymore for the two of you. It did when the bond was fresher, but now that it’s settled the connection has dulled. In the way that clothes go worn and comfortable. It’s not usually a stabbing pain like this. Such a visceral feeling that it wakes Yoongi up from it.

Yoongi stumbles to the door following your scent like a man possessed. The way it shifts from the nest. Panicked to not alone. Hobi’s panic too saturates the air. Yours is rainy wet and Hobi’s is burnt and over-sweet, faintly medicinal.

There are sounds on the stairs. Footsteps rouse Hobi just as he’s finally fallen asleep. His neck aches from how he’s been leaned back against the couch And he winces as it cracks.

“Hobi?” Yoongi calls cautiously. At his waist, your fingers tangle loosely in his shirt holding onto him like he’s a lighthouse in a storm, clinging to him even as you sleep. Hobi realizes he’s got a bit of your hair stuck to his lips. Spitting it out.

“Over here.“ Hobi’s jaw pops when he yawns. Yoongi stumbles to you because he can’t stay away when you’re like this. When you need him. You don’t rouse when Yoongi touches you, cupping your cheeks. Eyes feasting on the crusty salt around your eyes, the faint silvery shimmer of dried tear tracks across your cheeks.

“She had a nightmare- couldn’t sleep with the lights off so- thank god you're here I have to pee like so fucking bad-” Hobi says quietly.

Yoongi definitely does not eye the way that your hand stays loosely knotted in the front of his shirt, or note verbally the way that you smell like him. Drenched in hobi's scent and clinging to him.

“Daisy,” Yoongi says, sounding a bit surprised and alot in love, tucking his Hobi’s hair behind his ear. Standing over the two of you looking a little shaken. Yoongi is an expert at moving you softly detangling your hand from Hobi's shirt without waking you and freeing Hobi from his self-imposed prison.

He's still shaken when Hobi comes back from the bathroom. Hobi can’t blame him. You don’t really have the best track record when it comes to disappearing together. First the car crash last month, and now the dead body. It’s understandable why Yoongi’s panicked a bit.

But now he just looks at Hobi. Eyes scanning his face, a small smile beveling the edge of his lips.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Hobi says. The faint murmur of music is barely there, you're still asleep with his headphones on. Hobi had panic made a playlist on his phone after you’d fallen asleep. Putting only the most gentle instrumentals on it.

So what if he’d saved it with a cat emoji and a purple heart? Yoongi can’t possibly know that just by looking at him.

Yoongi doesn’t respond and Hobi tucks his chin, looking down at you, sleeping soundly still. The nightmare must have really tired you out because you're out like a light. His voice goes softer, like the emotion in his throat is constraining his vocal cords.

“What was I supposed to do? Let her panic? That wouldn’t have been kind.”

Yoongi's hand falls onto Hobi's head, rubbing through his hair. the touch feels like a reward. Hobi's not sure what for. “No- it wouldn’t have been Daisy.”

“Like it when you call me that,” Hobi says. Eyelashes flutter as yoongi scratched at the nape of his neck, head bowed. and he can hear the laugh in Yoongi’s voice. Hobi’s not really awake either.

“You don’t have to worry,” Hobi says “I’m not gonna like- freak out and run away if she needs something, like the first time.”

Hobi feels embarrassed about that when he thinks about it. Embarrassed and a little bit fond of the memory every time he sees the train ticket still in his wallet. The top edge is so chewed up that you can hardly tell it’s a ticket anymore.

“Sure,” Yoongi says and Hobi knows he hasn't fooled anyone, least of all your mate. hobi stands up properly, and when his hand falls, yoongi just tugs at his wrist, the callouses on his hands comfortably rough against hobi's skin. “Come on.”

You wake bleary for a handful of seconds when Yoongi puppets you, moving to sprawl out while Hobi discards the back cushions. Yoongi slips Hobi’s headphones off your ears and puts them safely to the side. wordless and publish while yoongi gets one of the blankets to tug it over your form.

Yoongi tuts and doesn't let hobi avoid the same predicament. although it's Infinitely more comfortable than his prior half-crunched position. If Yoongi’s being honest, it sort of looked like Hobi was guarding you. body curled over in a protective stance.

Alpha's are so funny.

Hobi ends up face-to-face with you. His flannel pj set un-buttoned to the middle tugged loose from your tugging earlier. the triangle of his bare chest presses against the bare skin of your collarbone as he shuffles away from the edge of the couch. Your own pj set pulled off one shoulder. Yoongi’s sitting up, his thigh warm against the top of Hobi’s head.

You’re running a fever maybe, worming your way closer to Hobi like you need it. Your nose presses into Hobi’s chest, a little cold at the tip and ticklish. Hobi squirms and Yoongi huffs. Overly fond.

“She does that to me in her sleep too sometimes. Means she likes your scent.” Hobi feels warm, and it’s no secret that his scent fluffs up sweeter, as if encouraging you to enjoy it. You re-settle. falling asleep with your nose tucked into Hobi's sternum.

Fuck you’re both so cute, your hair mixing colors on the pillow- sharing the same one because even being that far apart is too much. Hobi falls asleep with Yoongi combing gentle touches down his back. His favorite way to fall asleep- being touched so casually and consistently. You breathe against his skin, cradled to his chest. Sleeping soundly. Finally soothed.

Hobi watches you until sleep takes him.

~-~

Unfortunately, that’s not the last time you’re woken by a nightmare in the coming weeks

Over the next few days, it seems like more often than not Yoongi and Hobi wake to the scent of your terror in the air. Quieting your little sobs with soothing touches in the bathroom. Blankets are brought into the space so that you can curl up in the bathtub, darkness kept at bay by the overhead lights, its lingering shadow curling underneath the doorway trying to drag you down.

They don’t mind, at least they tell you they don’t mind when it eventually comes time to wake in the morning and your words are barely intact. Soft and rough in a way they haven’t been in months.

For you, it feels infuriating. Your non-verbalness might only be a temporary state but that doesn’t mean that overcoming it isn’t tiring. It’s frustrating. Working so hard each day to speak only to have it wrenched away again at night.

Always.

Always you wake up from your nightmares non-verbal. Guided to somewhere light by Hobi so that your fear of the dark won't rouse the rest of the pack. Soothed back to sleep by his music and some scenting. Waking up sometime after sunrise, struggling but better. A routine.

As for the pack…

“It feels like she’s going backward,” you hear Jin confess one morning while he brushes his teeth in the upstairs bathroom. he sounds afraid (he is afraid after waking up to you gone from the nest yet again for the 5th time this week- and it's only thursday). It's obvious Jin doesn't know you're within earshot but the double doors that lead to the bathroom are wide open.

Hobi sends you a fraught look. You’ve just come back upstairs after spending a few hours in the Living Room. You're only able to risk a few more hours of sleep because the sun is turning the sky all grey-blue.

“Do you think-” What he says next is jumbled by the sound of someone turning on the shower, Jungkook or jimin maybe (the upstairs shower is large enough that honestly- all eight of you might be able to fit given you where willing to risk any soap related injuries).

Namjoon’s answering hum is all dark thunder. jin's proposed solution a mystery. “No, I don’t think that would help.”

Sometimes it’s not just Hobi and Yoongi who wake up with you.

Sometimes it’s Jimin. Holding your shoulder with that firm touch looking like he’s about to snap his teeth at any incoming shadows. Sometimes you wake and he’s already sitting at the edge of the bed watching the stairs and the windows. Shirtless, legs splayed with his handgun balanced across his knees.

Or is it just your imagination? Is that just another dream because you certainly don’t see any weapons when he and Hobi pull you from the bed a few seconds later?

They take shifts. Jin and Namjoon blanket you on both sides, soft rumbles soothing you, their quiet banter a welcome melody in your private nest downstairs. Jungkook the next night- who admittedly just wraps his body around you and goes back to sleep so quick it makes you jealous, curled around your spine while you listen to Tae read you a late-night story.

Tae’s delicate murmur does all the character's voices just right. Her lips are both mystery and familiarity. She always seems to crack open the world with the first line.

“Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood.”

They never make you speak; never treat you like they’re too tired even though you know they are. You can see it on their faces, on Hobi’s eyebags getting greyer by the day. Hobi’s the only one who's there every time a nightmare drags you awake. Even Yoongi doesn’t wake up every time.

(Although you confess it's more because you develop a routine. You and Hobi sleep by the side of the nesting nook, where it’s easy to get out without moving around too much. Close enough to each other that he often wakes smelling like you and you always wake smelling like him).

You try to talk with him about it. Guilt makes your heart feel all stuffy. Is it possible to get a heart cold?

“You know, you could just leave your headphones out-"

“No- don’t worry about it, I’ll just make it up later.”

Always. Always Hobi wakes and plops his headphones on your ears. Sometimes he seems awfully lively, grinning and cracking jokes when you burrow into his chest and wipe your tears on his shirt.

“I am like- among the top 10 worst sponges in history you know?”

Sometimes he wakes you from the nightmares before you’ve had the chance to jerk awake. He recognizes the tell-tale stillness, the quick breaths. He never lets you suffer for long. Waking you with a hand on your shoulder. Allowing you to shove him just a little because he knows you're just reacting to your dream and him bleeding together.

"It's just me- you're okay, I've got you."

Sometimes, you wonder if you’re not the only one who can’t sleep lately.

During the day you spend a lot of time in the nesting pod, catching up on sleep while it's still light outside. dreading the afternoons and evenings when the shadows linger like a looming storm. Alone and safe and quiet.

Occasionally you're joined by noodle, purring up against your stomach. Meowing at you until you lift your arm and he can cuddle close. Sometimes you feel like he knows you’re sadder than you say you are. That when the others aren’t there to watch you, you’re stiller, less mobile than normal. You don't even click away at your phone, half the time you forget to charge it anyway.

Hobi would never tell you- but a few afternoons ago he’d come home to Noodle waiting for him on the front step. He’d lead Hobi inside, little kitty face glaring back at him every few steps. Circling his curled form and yowling when he dared to take a second to take his shoes. off. Panicked and nervous, all but biting on his ankles before he led Hobi into the sunroom. His bushy tail held high.

There he’d meowed woefully at your nesting pod where you slept soundly. So loud that Hobi was worried it would wake you. As if he was trying to say “Aren’t you going to do something?”

Hobi had just quieted the cat with a soft shush and picked him up. Closing the door behind both of them. “Let her sleep nu,” he’d gotten nothing but a tearful meow in response. Some squirming, but no claws. “What do you expect me to do? I’m trying my hardest.”

Noodle keeps his secrets. Hobi’s question goes unanswered by the cat- who’d simply squirmed out of his hold and gone to wait by the door to be let back in. Glaring at Hobi’s retreating figure like he’d been betrayed.

Noodle seems to know something that the pack doesn't. He's sat in your lap during dinner and breakfast every single night this week, especially on the days you’ve slept more.

Hobi continues to try his hardest. He brings home flowers from the shop. He says they’re for Jin but puts them by the nesting pod and no one even bothers to tease him. He makes sure that you don’t fall out of the habit of going on late-night drives. Even though you don’t go back to the beach again quite yet. The memories there are too prescient.

Hobi takes you to the winding mountain road again. Drag racing one night with Jimin, because what good is trying to squeeze in a few hours of sleep before sunrise when you’ll just wake anyway? You might as do something fun until you’d wake up normally.

You leave that night a little more wobbly-legged than Hobi will admit to Namjoon when he asks later. "I'm never getting into a car with you again Minnie- what the fuck."

But sometimes the alphas do use the sunroom when you’re there.

It’s kind of nice to hear them on the other edge of your senses. When you’re dozing and Tae and Jimin want to play video games. their shouts of happiness and false outrage better than their screams of terror.

When Hobi and Jungkook want to do some stretching before they take an afternoon run, their giggles push out the memories of cruel words that ring in your ears. Yoga mats all stretched out and noodle perched on the edge of Hobi's multicolored one. Watching you, tail flicking back and forth.

They'll never know how much they help just by being there.

Or when they work on rearranging Hobi’s plants around. Fitting them into different spots like a jigsaw puzzle and moving them from room to room. He doesn’t mean to be indecisive about it, he’s just trying to find the best home for each of them.

They take the big banana tree upstairs to put it in the nesting room because that honestly has really good light and Hobi’s baby can’t be compromised. They move the monstera there too and switch the string of pearls for three big ferns hanging above your nesting nook. Shifting A big fig tree that honestly looks kinda pretty from the entryway to the corner, hanging part of the way over the small sectional.

A leggy orchid that someone bought Namjoon as a “thank you for not letting me go braindead” present is the wimpiest and smallest of the bunch. Hobi's in the process of rehabilitating it. For now, it sits on the window sill growing a single pathetic leaf.

Hobi tries to spend a lot of time nearby when you’re trying to sleep, he always seems to show up when you're having the hardest time ignoring your thoughts.

They're getting tired of you being a goddamn mess every time. Why can't you just get better? It's pathetic, Hobi is fine. Why are making such a big deal over this? But deep down you know it's not just the dead body that caused all of this.

Things are slow at the flower shop in the fall with only the occasional wedding until the Christmas season starts up. Hobi talks to you about it while he waters his plants and trims up some leaves that are dying. He’s definitely not looking forward to making bows for the whole month of December and wrestling with wreaths. He’d much rather talk to you about his ferns. The big stag leaf one that’s in the corner by the tv. And the big fluffy ones that hang above the nesting pod.

“I know they're messy but If I overwinter them we can hang them back on the porch next year, They looked so nice!”

You hum from the pod, turning your cheek to look up at him. he's got his flannel rolled up to his elbows, a shirt underneath that looks homey and warm. Hobi’s scent grows sweet. “They did look really cool this year, kind of like big green soot sprites.”

“We should watch spirited away again.”

“We should.”

You stretch out in the nesting pod while he fiddles with one of the fronds, pulling off the dead leaves with a crumple. You stretch your curled-up legs, toes brushing the ratan sides of the pod.

“If I was a plant where would you put me?”

“Probably where it’s sunniest.”

You can hear his smile on the words, you hum and go back to sleep while he works. Hobi checks your breathing every few minutes, just to make sure you don’t need to be woken up again.

Hobi never talks about the nightmares and never asks what they’re about. Which is something you’re thankful for as the days go on and they get worse and worse. You don’t know how many more nights you can wake up gasping without telling them what you're dreaming about. That it's the idea of them dying that has you so panicked. not to mention the nightly revision of the worst parts of your abuse.

Yoongi doesn't always let you escape without a bit of interrogation. Badgering you until you tell him that he needs to stop.

Jin’s just as bad, constantly hovering. You found your sleep schedule, an estimated hours of sleep you’ve gotten scrawled on the edge of a newspaper in Namjoon's handwriting. He's a little generous with his calculation- You know you haven't slept 13 hours in the last 4 days. You’d crumpled up the page and thrown it in the garbage.

In the morning you find out their motive behind it. Blinking down at your cereal and at the red raspberries bobbing in the milk. You can't help but get defensive about this; because really when you go non-verbal so often about this- what good would talking do?

“Jin, I’m not going to therapy.”

Jin looks a little bit less like his usually put-together form, button-up shirt a little looser than it might have been a few weeks back. Yoongi rubs down his shoulders as he passes. Work has been keeping Jin later and later- anytime someone asks he says something about a problem child at the home for forgotten pups that needs Jin's full attention.

It's so very like him to suggest therapy.

He pulls his fingers through his hair, trying to comb it into something orderly. Abandoning his usual routine of gel and mouse. “I’m not saying you have to go consistently- just once or twice, you went through something-“ he breaks off when Yoongi taps his hip, shaking his head.

You’re twisting your hands over your lap, again and again. But the word lands even though it was unsaid. Whereas before you and Hobi had a smart retort- now- the word feels less hollow, more heavy.

And Jin's not just talking about the body.

Jin doesn’t want to be frank, but you don’t look the best. Maybe it’s because you’d been so steadily getting better that they hardly remembered what sadness looks like on you. But now it looks like this; you sitting at the island counter, looking at your food, too nauseous to eat. Actually worried you're going to vomit if you try.

Any other morning, Jin would sit by you and coach you through it, would sit and wait for you and move you somewhere safe, somewhere softer to prod. He'd chase this worry with gentle touches. maybe he'd give you a gentle settling if you were feeling like you needed to reach that happy hazy head space to eat.

Any other morning Jin wouldn’t leave you.

But this morning, the clock says that Jin has exactly 20 minutes before he has to leave for work or else he’ll be late and miss the debriefing on the latest string of murders and drug-related reports. including a very well worded anonymous tip. it's important that jin's there for that.

It’s not enough time to drag you to some corner of the house and scent you happy. Or better- scruff you down into omegaspace where you’d be mailable and more agreeable under his touch.

Yoongi's eyes say, go I've got this, and Jin has never been more thankful for lovely enemies and a partner in crime.

But Jin simply does not have enough time to love you as he should. If Jin has to choose between making you feel loved and making you more physically safe he'll choose the latter every single time.

Baby steps. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and criminal empires won’t fall that quickly either.

“They’ll go away, I know they’ll go away because they did last time,” you reaffirm, only half believing it. You and Yoongi don’t talk about when you first moved into this house, but the truth is these nightmares aren’t really anything new for either of you.

At least this time they don’t come with you hurling your guts up every night. At least this time your words return in the middle of the day. At least you feel somewhat human right now.

Jin sends a fraught look in Hoseok ’s direction. Clearly requesting backup. He holds his hands up, straw in his mouth and ice coffee in his hand. “I’ll go if she goes.” Is all he says backing away. Clearly not ready to take Jin’s side with this. Late for work himself.

Jin almost misses when you guys were adversarial, rather than banded together as a unified front.

I never expected the pups to unionize

He sends Namjoon in a text a few hours later, After no less than 3 separate meetings that have him feeling more than a little tired himself.

Joonie (1:18): Really? I’d thought you would have been ready, no plans to destabilize the monarchy up your sleeve?

Jin can’t stop his smile, he’s conscious of who might be watching, so he hides it with his palm. Flirting on the FBI’s time has never felt so good.

What would you recommend?

Joonie (1:23): Spanking and sweets probably.

That at least had made Jin feel a little bit more at ease. But he knows what Namjoon really means, that he’s saying they should talk about this later face to face. Or worse there isn’t an easy solution. Namjoon had warned him that a request for therapy, however gentle and well-worded it was, might not go over well.

But what else can you do when someone won’t accept your concern? When love falls short? For the first time ever Jin is unsure what you need.

Over the next few weeks, you can tell that they’re being overly gentle with you. Treating you with velvet gloves.

Namjoon barks an order at Jungkook and Hobi when they rough house too close to you. jostling you where you stand unsteady in the bathroom. Tae lets loose a sleepy growl when Jungkook back hugs you one morning- something ordinarily innocuous but now makes you flinch hard. hand pressed over your heart to stop its thundering. Both times Jungkook tucks his tail smelling sour at being scolded even though it's really not his fault.

Everyone's instincts are running on high. Your scent is so off these days. Something about it muted and only getting duller. Jin didn't realize until the other day when he tried to find a pillow that smelled like you while nesting and couldn't.

The head of the FBI's largest organized crime task force, brought to sniffles over not being able to find the right pillow. What would Jin's enemies think?

Yoongi had only sighed, and relinquished his shirt to Jin's nesting. At least that was the next best thing.

but it's not only the little things that they're holding off from; it's sex too. You can clearly tell that they want to instigate something when you come upstairs one night after spending a few minutes with Tae in the library room.

Jungkook sat's tight across Namjoon’s lap. Moving his hips in a way that's sensual clinging to the pack alphas bare chest and licking into his mouth like an omega starved.

You know what they want to do- christen the nest in a way, truly break it in and make it smell like the pack.

But they'd stilled at your appearance and you'd made yourself scarce, clearly not ready to be asked to stay (or scarier- asked to leave). When you'd come back after showering the room had smelled of sour unhappy arousal and Jungkook had been pouting on the other side of the nest from Jin and Namjoon.

You hadn't heard the whispered argument. "You're treating her the exact same way you treated me when my seizures went bad."

"That was a different circumstance Koo and you know it."

"Still- it doesn't change the fact that you're making the decision for her instead of making a place that's safe enough for her to decide what she wants."

The idea that Jungkook and the others are holding off for your sake has you feeling even more guilty.

Even Tae- once insatiable, now hardly lifts her head from her computer when you walk into the library room wearing next to nothing. You know it’s just that. Just busyness that she's been spending every available second writing her new story.

But you can’t help but feel odd about it. Half guilty and half extra. Unwelcome.

Neglected isn’t the right word. Neglected is the word that Hobi would use for his orchid or the cactus that he accidentally forgot about outside. Two plants that are equally as finicky, opposites but maybe not in terms of difficulty. One praised for being beautiful, the other coveted for being hard to take care of.

It feels like that a lot of the time, that you're just hard to take care of. you're an adult you shouldn't even need to be taken care of at all.

That night- you toss and turn in the bed. Unable to sleep because you can't help but think about it, your thoughts a rushing torrent of you're such a bother. Maybe they're just trying to let you down easily. Maybe all of the love is a lie. You should try harder, if you try harder to overcome this then maybe they won't ask you to leave.

Sadness has rotted your brain a little, you don't know how to get back, how to stop the spiral. Until your hands are so tight that your nails dig into your palms. Leaving bloody little crescents.

The next day you try to catch up on sleep. In the nesting pod. A dark spot. Out of sight and out of mind, where all broken things go when it's clear they can't be fixed in a way that makes them useful. But it feels like you've only slept a few minutes when you're roused- not from a nightmare, but because someone gets into your nesting pod with you.

You smile in your sleep at the scent of honey, rich and golden. So nice and sweet that it makes you get goosebumps. Jungkook noses at them, dragging his cheek along the hair on your arms, soft and pleasant in that sensory sort of way.

Even though the nesting pod was a gift from Namjoon you'd been clear to Jungkook and Jin that they could use it whenever they wanted to. They're always a little bit more inclined to nest upstairs.

You sleepily hold out your arms for Jungkook, only cracking your eyes a little. You're not prepared for the sight of him in a crop top. blinking as you register it. Your pulse climbing higher. Jungkook doesn't say anything, doesn't say anything at all as he pulls his body along yours, settling mostly on top of you. quiet until you query "Kookie?"

He smells a little like the gym, but more like he'd showered there and then come home. You don't remember what day it is, what his schedule was. But the house is quiet around you, it must be one of his early days then?

His nose rubs smooth little circles along your neck, and when you pull back his eyes are a little glassy. "I miss you," he says, voice cracking a tiny bit. You don't have to ask why he misses you when you're right here. You know and your heart clenches painfully.

you laugh, "you just saw me this morning." but his lower lip wobbles, and you know thats not what he meant. it's frightfully easy to knot your fingers in his hair and pull him down to eye level. "c'm here."

You can tell by the way that Jungkook kisses you that he wants you, his arousal burning skin deep as his tongue laves against your lower lip and his hand slides down your chin to cup your scent gland, fingers pressing over the sensitive skin delicately.

You're so fucking tired.

Jungkook’s sex drive is honestly the highest in the pack, and you know that they usually keep him well tended to. But you also know that because of your predicament, no one’s tended to his needs in the last few days. You can smell it on the edge of his scent. Sweet but overly sweet, like a hovering cloud of settling perfume, unable to settle. Just getting stronger.

It’s not your job, and it shouldn’t be anyone’s job per se, but the idea of turning him down is so displeasing that you won’t even if you’re not really in the mood right now. You're so fucking tired. There isn't room for anything else. you don't have the energy to want this, you don't have the energy to want anything but sleep.

You kiss back, a little gentler than he wants, the soft needy noise he makes against the seam of your mouth tells you just how welcome it is. Your arms are sluggish as they go around his shoulders. He grins happy, and you grin too- because Jungkook’s joy is honestly so infectious. You let him tug you up, tug you out of the nesting pod even though your heart lurches.

This is your use to the pack, isn't it? The youngest omega, the lowest one in the hierarchy. You shouldn't say no and deny Jungkook what he wants. This is the way that he feels free, the way that he makes himself better.

After the pack's sleeping quarters had changed, there’d been a whole debate over where exactly to put the pack's sex toy collection and what to do with their old bedroom on the first floor. The side closet is no longer big enough or in use.

Installing some shelves in the bedroom had been the easiest solution. now they frame either side of the windows, holding Tae's overspill of books at the top and a few display cases. You remember the first day you'd wandered in here in search of your mate and found some suspicious-looking brackets installed along the ceiling studs, sawdust piles sweeper up on the floor.

“It’s totally not a sex dungeon.”

“Babe, you’re making a display for Jungkook’s dildo collection with a built-in sex bench.” At least you can still tease your mate when you're sad like this. Every little semi-normal comment you make feels like seeing the sun during a break from the storm. Even Yoongi's pout is half a smile.

“Just because I want there to be a bench doesn’t mean It’s a sex bench. It could be for like- watching tiktok and stuff. You know Hobi likes to find a spot where he won't bother us.”

“It’s totally a sex bench.”

“Is not.”

Yoongi is too fun to rile up. You'd watched him blush as you and Jungkook had playfully grabbed and swung on the ropes Yoongi was hanging, the heavy thick cotton ones soft to the touch that won’t irritate his loves sensitive skin. testing out the brackets meant for suspension.

Jungkook’s just as giggly and happy when he drags you there now, and your smile is very real pressed to his shoulder. The farthest thing from fake. it might be the first time you've smiled today. Jungkook always makes you feel this way; a little younger, a little bit like you’re sneaking around. That at least feels right.

You're very good at concentrating on the parts of sex that feel good, the parts that you want and not the ones that you don't.

(This morning the others had talked about it with Jungkook. Jimin and Tae had cuddled close to brainstorm. The way they often talk about sex things and pack things. Jimin's snorted honesty still stings.

"I don't know if Yoongi could literally fuck the sadness out of her, but at least it's a suggestion."

Jungkook had felt petulant and whiney, "But why doesn't he just try- if anyone's got a magic just right dick it's him-" Tae had chased Jungkook's disappointment with a kiss.

The truth is; the pack is mostly at a loss with how to help you this time. The most they can do is just stay close and make sure you have everything you need. But lately, not even that has felt like enough. Tae had scrapped her nails down Jungkook's abs, soothing him, with a bit of tingly pain pleasure.

"You're the only one whose bad mood can literally be cured with a good fuck bunny.”)

Yes, Jungkook is trying to make you feel lighter in the only way he knows how right now. But there are different medicines for different hurts for a reason.

Jungkook guides you down to the sex bench, tugging at your shirt a little. Still kissing you. Up close you realize it's actually more of a daybed, styled very attractively with a few throw pillows. One that's more memory foam and sturdy for propping bodies up.

It's no secret how sweet turned on happy Jungkook smells from just a little kissing, just the bare minimum. Jungkook moans- a crocked needy sound, scent pulsing richer in the air. He squirms a little bit, reaching over to one of those shelves. Rummaging in one of the frosted acrylic buckets.

“I’ve had this idea for weeks now that you've taken Joonie’s- fuck- I just- I didn’t know when you’d want to try it but I saw this video online with two omegas and Jin said no but- ha! Here it is!”

You gulp.

The big purple thing is a veritable monster, glittery and double-ended, ridged not like a regular dildo but more like a tentacle. It's about as thick around as your wrist. Namjoon’s a little thicker but still-

it makes fear trickle down your spine, warm and almost bleeding.

Jungkook reads your expression. And the disappointment crests his cheeks, his bunny smile falls, and you feel like you’ve failed already.

At the thought of being filled right now. You feel like you might want to vomit. You try not to have any sort of expression, just a small smile- but fall abysmally short. You’re too tired, too sore, too tight to properly enjoy that.

The idea that your sadness is enough to get in the way of this, what Jungkook so clearly needs is suddenly too much for you to bare. Jungkook needs sex, doesn't he? He needs it to make the seizures feel not quite so damning. He'd told you once- how much he required sex to feel loved. It's his love language right? Isn't this what people always say when they want physical touch?

Who are you to say that your needs are more important than his? You certainly do not love yourself as much as you love him.

Jungkook’s frown is heartbreaking and you easily kiss it away. Making your kisses more eager. You’re a good kisser and a good actor. Your kisses make Jungkook feel all fluttery and hot in the chest, quickly forgetting about the dildo and whatever plans he might have had.

"Just want you- don't want-" words get in the way of kissing, sucking, you mouth at Jungkook's lower lip, making him groan.

Jungkook’s scent gland is a semi-swollen little lump under your teeth as you nibble on it, making him part his legs, grinding up into nothing and letting out a breathless whine. You set yourself across his lap and his big hands quickly fist on your waist pulling you snugly.

You don’t mind this, you really don’t.

It's too routine for you, the first thing that you reach for to avoid saying no. His belt buckle is warm against your palm as you shift so that you can slide to the floor. Pulling your body away from him. he lets out a needy bereft sound. stopping you as you start to tugg at his waistband.

his cheeks are pink, lips red from kisses when you pull back. "I-"

"Let me kiss you here Koo." Let me at least do something. Let me stop feeling so guilty, I know how to fix the guilt even if you don't.

Jungkook catches your chin before you sink to the floor. Jungkook has a hickey on his abs glimmering there just along his hipline. The crop top pulled up to right under his pectorals in a way you know would have the alphas growling and mouthing at his stomach. That's probably how he got the hickey in the first place.

“But you don’t like it.” He says, not quite understanding. Catching your hand as you slide it across his knee.

“I want to try.” You lie, "I-I feel like I’ve lost practice, need to be taught how-” You bat your eyes, looking down and away like you're embarrassed. Just let me do this and make you cum. Just let me get this over with so that we can go back to cuddling and I can feel safer. Jungkook always gets especially cuddly after he's cum too. “I don’t- I don’t do it for the alphas like at all." Your stuttering isn't all faked. You’ve lost practice in a lot of things, but lying clearly isn’t one of them.

“Or Yoongi” Jungkook notes. A little too quickly.

Your heart pulses, Bruised a bit at that. You've never explicitly discussed the abuse you underwent with anyone but Yoongi and Namjoon. You didn't think anyone really noticed how much you don't like giving blowjobs. It's not that you don't want to reciprocate or touch- it's just that once with Geumjae, the choice to reciprocate was taken away from you. The choice to get anything at all was always taken away. It's hard to forget that, to want it again.

You remember his words. He'd always been violent with words before he'd ever gotten violent physically with you. Coercion doesn't feel like it has the same weight compared to that (Hobi would probably argue with you- but his case was different wasn't it?)

"You're so fucking selfish, you could help me in like- 10 minutes but you're choosing not too. We could go back to having a normal fucking evening. I do so much for you and even now when I can't fucking sleep you won't just do this one fucking thing- it's not like I'm asking for much. You're too young, I should have known you wouldn't know how normal relationships function."

It's foolish of you to think that you could be selfish forever. You should get used to this with Jungkook so that it's not so bad with the others later. In case they ever realize how selfish you've been.

“Yeah,” you swallow back a lump in your throat. “But can I? I want to-” You make your eyes wide, biting your tongue hard so that your scent doesn’t go sour.

Jungkook looks like he’s warring with himself for a second but then the hornyness wins out. He pulls his pants down his thighs and you help him, big and muscular as he stands, you on the floor before him. It feels right in a twisted way. See I know my place, see I'm not trying to get away with anything.

Jungkook almost trips when he moves to get a pillow for your knees because he’s not a monster. Namjoon and Jin have taught him well.

Jungkook is not a monster.

If you said no, if you said that you wanted to stop you know he wouldn’t hold it against you. At least not at first, at least not this time. After the 4th or 5th or 10th attempt you know that wouldn't be the case.

Jungkook doesn't even have large enough of a cock for it to feel like a real blowjob. His bunny eyes are wide and eager as you give it a first little kiss. Tentative. You kiss the head again, focusing, dragging your lips up the sides and nuzzling into the skin of his hip, indulging in his scent because at least Jungkook smells nice, smells clean, before you take him into your mouth

Geumjae always smelled a bit like piss. Tasted like it too. At least Jungkook's not like that.

He can be forgiven maybe, for not noticing right away. For not asking if you want this twice. A muted curse falls from his lips instead and he carefully cradles your head. A little startled.

"Fuck- ah-" The muscles of his abdomen tense beneath your touch, startled by the sudden influx of pleasure and the wet tight hot heat of your mouth. "I don't think you need any practice- fuck-"

Omega cock tastes less bitter than alpha cock does. And Jungkook’s dick is honestly so small you can’t even choke on it properly. He doesn’t hit the back of your throat when he rocks it into your mouth. Eking pleasure from the tight seam of your lips.

He doesn’t even hit the back of your throat or engage your gag reflex. So, you wonder why your eyes start watering. One of his hands fists (albeit a little bit too sloppy to be totally gentle) in your hair, using it to keep you stationary while he fucks your mouth. Little rolls of his hips that end in cute, "ah-ah-ah" sounds leaving his lips.

Good, you're doing good. Your nose is buried in his skin. With the little tuft of hair there, Jungkook must have showered at the gym because it doesn't smell like anything. Just breathe.

You know Jungkook doesn't get stimulation to his cock often. The others much prefer to fuck his hole rather than pay attention to it and that works in your favor now because Jungkook's so sensitive. You feel his cock jerk a little, tensing as his abdomen does, flexing up against the pallet of your mouth. Especially when your tongue teases at the head. Finding the ridge of his frenulum and pressing up.

Your lungs sting but you keep your tongue flat, lapping up at the underside, keeping your mouth wet and messy and not swallowing yet. Jungkook's precum tastes a little salty, not as salty as alpha cum would taste like but still not bad. Just a little bit like sweat and a little bit like honey.

Jungkook looks down at you, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead his lips falling slack in pleasure. Hips twitching up, looking debauched and lovely from it already. Pride swells, even as you have to fight back the urge to gag. Quieting the revulsion in your stomach through force of will alone.

You can do this, you don't have to make a big deal over it-

Jungkook tips his head back, closing his eyes, and you're free to shudder unwatched. "Fuck- just like that- you're so good at it, fuck-" You wonder if you get this same wide-eyed subspace look when you’re sad if that’s why he doesn't notice. Your knees burn, hands tighten. One on his hips the other digging into your thigh.

You hear someone outside in the hall and before you have the chance to even think about pulling off they're opening the door. Jimin almost trips, Clearly not expecting to see you on your knees or Jungkook with his legs splayed and shirt rucked up to show his tummy.

You pop off Jungkook’s cock easily, jaw aching already (you really are out of practice) Jimin’s look is all predatory, alpha pheromones bubbling up. One second startled, the next prowling in your direction like a jungle cat.

“Ah pups, getting into trouble? Pups having a treat?”

Jungkook giggles, spreading his knees wider, fingers stroking down your cheek as you catch your breath. Wiping the spit from your lips. “We’re not done yet,” he huffs. You blink up at Jimin and the touch he drops on your head is everything. Soothing your frantic panting. You push up into it, eager for a casually loving touch.

"Wanna make some trouble with us?"

“maybe, think i'd much rather watch" He teases, jutting his chin at Jungkook and settling down next to him, leaning on his chin to watch you as you're urged back to it. You kiss Jungkook's cock again as the alpha guides him into a kiss. Settling his happy-turned-on pheromones into a thick bubble that bursts.

You lap at Jungkook’s cock head, making it messy. Watching the two of them get distracted by kissing, licking into each other’s mouths. Jungkook's hand falls from your hair in favor of cupping Jimin's thigh.

And you below them, an afterthought.

You ignore the longing in your chest and go back to sucking Jungkook off. After a minute or two, Jimin's hand returns to your head, his knuckles rub against your cheek in lazy circles.

It would feel loving any other time but not right now. Not when you're trying to ignore the voice that whispers in the back of your mind that this is all you're good for. On your knees, mouth open. Finally useful. Finally worth the bother of loving. A voice that doesn’t come from any of them but sounds suspiciously like Geumjae's occupying your thoughts.

Jimin's hands are on your head too, rubbing against your cheek. Wiping away a little bit of spit on the corner of your lips. He clearly thinks you're deep in omegaspace. Interpreting your quiet softness for that sweetness and not this devastation. there is always a moment of quiet before a disaster, an intake of breath where everyone braces for impact.

“My good little princess, making your packmate happy, look at you pup,” Jimin croons. Clearly enjoying the pretty picture that you and Jungkook paint.

If anything, it's hearing that old pet name that makes you break. You're fine until you're not.

You're just so tired.

There is wetness on your face and it’s not spit or slobber or cum just tears. Little sniffles. your first one goes un-noticed by them, but not the second or the third. Jungkook freezes. And suddenly the fingers on your cheeks aren’t pulling you closer to Jungkook’s hips but off. Tilting your face. Jimin's hands quickly push Jungkooks away.

Jimin has stoney eyes, his mouth hard and discerning, lips parting. “Pup?” Jungkook’s already got his hand on your arm bunny eyes the soft opposite to Jimin’s. Jimin effortlessly transfers you from the floor to the couch. "Oh pup."

You wipe at your tears stubbornly. “Just one second, just give me a second and then I can keep going I promise, I’m fine- I’m fine” you keep repeating it, keep saying it but you smell so sour-sad. Your pout wobbles hot tears welling up threatening to spill over renewed.

But in what world would they ever let you cry during sex without pre-negotiating? In what world would they let you cry without comforting you?

“I don’t even know why I’m crying but I can't stop-”

No sooner have the words slipped past your lips are they pulling you up from the floor and into their laps, manhandled and small. You fight it a little. but Jimin crushes you to his chest and you sag. t

Jungkook has never gotten less turned on quicker, a packmate's distress takes so much precedence over this. Pulling up his pants. His pleasure isn't even a thought in the back of his mind. You take precedent.

Jungkook thought you knew that.

He feels helpless, helpless as you scrub angrily at your mouth, he uses his sweatshirt sleeve to wipe the saliva and spit from your mouth, then your tears from your cheeks. "Oh fuck- I'm so sorry- fuck I-"

And oh, you're crying into Jimin's chest now, real tears. Sobbing harder.

Jimin glances up and for a second he looks a little angry. He has every right to be angry at Jungkook for this. He's barely been here for like, a minute and a half. But the anger isn't welcome, you're too close to Jimin's scent gland, flinching when he starts to smell sour. Pulling back, so so so terrified, quivering in his lap.

"I'm sorry alpha, just give me a second and I'll get to you too-"

Now Jimin's angry for a whole new reason, angry at people he can't punish, people who are already dead. Jimin feels his anger in his hands. Struggling to stay gentle on you.

Oh fuck that.

Jimin’s fingers pinch at the back of your neck, scruffing you until your scent mellows out a little. "None of that now." He snaps, sharp shifting from concerned packmate to commanding dom effortlessly. "You'll do no such thing. You're going to stay right here until I tell you I'm done holding you."

Jimin's firmness is exactly what you need. You feel his power in his arms, crushing you, restraining you. Jungkook is not a dom, and that has never been clearer than right now. if he was than you would have never gotten into this predicament. "Can't you be good and do what Alpha asks?"

"Yes Alpha" you sob.

Jungkook looks at you guilty, eyes swimming with tears too. He's always been a sympathetic crier but he doesn’t let them spill. Even if Jimin spies them. His lower lip wobbles as he looks at you. Reaching out to hold you too and then snatching his hands back at the last second. If Jimin's touch is your remedy then Jungkook's is surely poison. “Why didn’t you-”

“I just- I just didn’t want to be bad.” You know what they’re about to say, that saying no wouldn’t have been bad but your brain is all terrified of it.

“M’sorry” Jungkook wants to say that there’s nothing you’ve got to apologize for that it’s him that should, but it’s difficult. It’s so difficult when you’re crying so hard it kinda feels like you might pass out. hyperventilating a little. He can do little more than loop his arms around Jimin's waist and trap you between the two of them, sandwiching you. Applying pressure. Holding you tight. In a way that has you instantly plummeting. Down past subspace, past omegaspace, where everything is dark and bland and nothing. Where you're nothing.

“M’sorry Koo-” He doesn’t trust his wobbly voice to speak as you sob out, “Don’t tell them, don’t tell Namjoon and Jin or Yoongi please- don't want them to worry. It’s not Koo's fault it's mine. I’m fine. m' just feeling off. I’ll be better alpha I promise.”

Luckily there is no one home. No one is home to hear any of this. Jimin has always been perilously unable to deny his girls their silly wishes. And if the idea of Namjoon or Jin knowing has you panicking anew then Jimin will take this secret to the grave.

Jimin soothes you with a happy alpha rumble, feeling exactly the opposite- wishing there was Namjoon or Jin to call for backup. This is clearly not normal crying. Jungkook surely couldn't have put you into subspace but somehow you're dropping. Leaning in to every word that graces Jimin's lips like you need the absolution he brings.

“But you’re already so good for us pup- already so good for saying no even though it was hard. Here. Lie out so we can hold you. Here.” It's what you wanted from the beginning someone close by enough to touch enough to cuddle.

Only this time it feels even less like you deserve it.

You make yourself as small as you can. Jungkook and Jimin alternate, kissing off your cheeks. Until you stop crying and fall asleep. Crying yourself back to sleep. You really were just sleep-deprived.

Jimin's got one arm around your waist, another cradling the back of your head. And only once he's absolutely sure that you are completely asleep does he hiss over the top of your head.

"Jungkook What the hell-"

"I asked, you know I asked. She said she was okay I swear-"

A whispered argument ensues, drawn out until the others come home. Their anger quieting at the sound of them, Yoongi softly calls your name. Mindful of the fact you could be sleeping.

When you wake up around dinner time you're non-verbal and pupish. There are too many people around for Jungkook to be able to pull you to the side and ask, to just talk this out. He watches you close at dinner, watches and waits for a chance to talk to you that won't come. You'll pretend you're asleep tomorrow when he wakes, just to avoid it for a little while longer.

If the others notice anything strange with you at dinner time no one broaches it. Of course, you don't speak at all. Answering their questions with shaken heads and careful nuzzles under Tae’s chin where you sit side by side with her. Your chairs pulled together so that they’re more of a bench. She smells so good- so Rosey that you press your face into her shoulder to avoid the other's eyes.

Never mind the fact that you don't smell like anything at all. Maybe you're dissociating too bad to smell like anything. So disconnected from your emotions that you can't feel them let alone smell like them.

After dinner you take an extra long in the shower so that by the time you exit the bathroom Jin has already scruffed Jungkook sleepy. He looks cute too. Pouting in his sleep, restless.

There's an extra soft nesting space carved out just beside him that he made special for you with a few pillows and his favorite nesting things. It will go unused.

That night, you don't bother trying to sleep.

~-~

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Upstairs floor plan:

Chapter playlist:

Noah Kahan - Call your mom

Coldplay - Sparks

nick cave and the bad seeds - O' children

Pine Grove- Need too

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danishpastri · 1 year

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Happy Valentine’s

BTD/TPOF As Your Valentine

Strade

He’s surprised at first. You got him chocolates? Where did you even get them? The collar on your neck made it so you couldn’t leave, and you didn’t know your address.

He shrugs it off and starts eating the chocolates immediately. He almost didn’t see the note next to the heart-shaped box, but when he finally reads it.

He smiles, “Ah… I’m going to wreck them later.” He hums as he eats with his mouth full of chocolate.

“Ooh, this one’s filled with caramel.”

Lawrence

He’s starstruck

“H-Huh? Valentine’s Day? Uhm… thank you. I didn’t get you something though. I-Is that okay?”

He’s all red and nervous, constantly fighting with his hands as he stares down at the chocolates. He doesn’t want to eat them. They were a gift from you, and it would feel wrong to eat.

So he doesn’t… he never opens the box and lets it become a decoration piece, letting it rest up against a wall.

You make a reminder to yourself to just give him a card next year.

Ren

He’s so excited. He got you chocolates as well, fox themed.

He has a whole date planned with you. Movie time together is always fun with him, but he actually chose a romance movie to watch instead of the usual gore.

It’s a special day, one where you two can be together for as long as possible.

He’s also definitely going to give you head.

He’s between your legs with a knife against your skin, and he’s carving a heart into your upper thigh.

Rire

“Oh? You know, I have heard of a Valentine’s gift before, but I never thought I’d actually receive one.”

He’s gives you a small kiss. “I’ll make sure to keep this for as long as I live, darling.”

You and him then proceed to have a long night filled with red wine, a fine dinner, and love making.

You wake up the next day with bruises and bite marks littering your shoulders, back, thighs, and arms.

Sano

He got you flowers, roses with thorns. He gets down on one knee to give them to you.

He’s quite romantic, taking you out for dinner at a restaurant.

He bought you an outfit as well as one for himself. He wanted both of you to look as dashing as possible while you ate.

He’s holding your hand while you eat, making it quite hard to cut your steak.

Once you two reach home, you take a shower together then go to sleep.

But who says there weren’t naughty times occurring during that shower

Vincent

He’s astonished. He finds you laying in bed with new lingerie that he didn’t know you bought.

You don’t go on a date or anything fancy.

Just countless hours of breeding until all of your holes are leaking.

He does give you tons of aftercare, giving you a hot bath afterwards while he rubs you up and down with a towel.

Cain

He’s going to make you the nicest steak dinner in the whole world.

He’ll eat you out afterwards too. He gets two nice meals that day >;p

Lots of romantic shit. He gets in with you in your bathtub, makes you food, makes love to you.

All the romantic date cliches

Derek

You gave him chocolates? He’s not too grateful. You give him flowers? He doesn’t care.

“Oh? It’s Valentine’s Day? I didn’t know. Whoops, guess you aren’t getting anything ‘till next year.”

He doesn’t really care about the holiday, but he’ll still fuck you (he already does that practically every day though).

Celia

Just like Sano, she’ll take you out for dinner. She’ll wear a beautiful dress while she does; it’s black with velvet material, and it doesn’t show much skin.

She’ll bring you home afterwards and gladly sit on your face.

You shower with her after making love, and you both can’t stop touching each other.

You fall asleep naked while in each other’s arms and smiles on your faces

Mason

“Darlin? I’m sorry; I didn’t know it was today. I, uh… was planning to give you this on your birthday though.”

He hands you a wood-carved heart; although it’s not cute and stylistic. It’s an atomically accurate replica of a real heart but made out of wood.

He’s trying hard to be romantic. Just give him time. He’s used to only having murder on the mind.

You two will get chairs and sit by the lake, watching the sunset go down together as you hold hands and talk about your days.

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fandxmslxt69 · 10 months

Text

Anything For You

Jake Lockley x f!reader

Warnings: Absolutely none, Jake Lockley is just a big fat cinnamon roll he is just so <3

A/N: Hi this was kind of self indulgent and written in like an hour or two to help feel better after school has officially ended. But it's also a little love note to @melodygatesauthor because Mel you're so special and our convo about this favourite boy made me think and you deserve a special treat because you're the specialest girl (Jake's words!! he has even confirmed it)

-Clem

Synopsis: Jake Lockley always takes care of his favourite girl.

Word count: 1336 (ahhh)

You shuffled into the lightly lit apartment, quietly closing the door behind you. You dropped your bag, rubbing your face as a yawn broke out of you and your shoulders sagged in exhaustion. There was no one to witness your tiredness but the moon as it peeked through the windows.

"Amor?" Jake's sleepy voice came, and soon he emerged from the bedroom, a soft sleepy smile on his face. "Thought I heard you," You smiled weakly. "Hi, didn't mean to wake you-" You started before he waved you off, wrapping an arm about you. "It's alright, amor. I was staying up but I didn't realise you were coming home so late," He kisses the top of your head, and immediately you melted into him, feeling the exhaustion and pain of the past few weeks bubble up and nearly spill over. Your eyes filled with tears but you were quick to press your face to Jake's chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist as you breathed him in. He grounded you, all three of them always did- whether from an epic night out or a really bad day, they always helped bring you home.

Jake frowned, hugging you back tightly. "Bebita? What's wrong?" You shook your head. "I'm tired, Jake. I'm so fucking tired of everything," If you only listened close enough, you could hear his heart squeeze and shattered at your words. You were almost fragile, your voice heavy with worries and problems and you looked ready to collapse. He didn't like seeing his girl hurting so much. "Oh amor..." He pressed his lips to your head, gently rubbing your back. "Mi poor princesa. You've been working so hard haven't you? Coming home late every night and leaving so early, when was the last time you had a good sleep, mm? Or a proper meal?" You shrugged, too tired to answer. Didn't matter, he knew. He gently squeezed your hips, then hooked a finger under your chin and lifted it up to face him. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and for a second, your mind emptied of everything- everything but him and you in this moment, lips locked together in such a soft, delicate kiss it made you ache. You missed him. He pulled away, peppering small kisses all over your face. "I'm going to take care of you, okay bebita? You're going to relax and let me make you feel better, sí?" You nodded, "Okay..." He nodded too, sweeping you off your feet and into his arms as he carried you to the bathroom. "I'm gonna run you a bath, okay? And you're gonna sit in there and relax for at least an hour to yourself, while I make you something to eat. And then, we're going to sleep, and you're going to take the day off tomorrow," He stated as if all matters were already decided and sealed. He placed you down on the side of the tub when you reached the bathroom and turned on the hot water. "But- I have work tomorrow." "Like I said, take the day off," "I can't just do that," You frowned. He shook his head as he rummaged through the cabinets, pulling out your nice smelling candles and your favourite body oils and creams. "If you don't call them, I'm going to," "You wouldn't," He turned to you, grinning widely. "Sí, I would. And if I forget- which I won't- then Steven will. Or Marc. You don't want Marc to call them, would you?" That was an easy answer. Marc always get too angry if someone tried to deny you the day off. You nodded, sighing in defeat. "Okay. Day off tomorrow. Will you stay with me then?" He chuckled, kissing your temple. "Of course, princesa. Always," He smiled. "Now, off with the clothes," "Very demanding.." You teased, lifting your shirt over your head, followed by your pants, and then underclothes. He lifted you up, placing you very dramatically in the now full tub, and placing an equally dramatic kiss on your forehead. "I'm gonna wash your hair, bien? And then you can sit and relax until you want to come out," He knelt by the tub, smiling like the most precious man in the world as he squeezed out some shampoo into his hands and started carefully lathering it in your hair. You sigh in relief, feeling the tension slowly drift away as your body relaxes under his touch. Your mind began wandering as your eyes flutter shut while Jake rinses out your hair, humming quietly to himself. A while passed as he took care of you, giving you the treatment he always excelled at- pampering and devoting his full attention to every part of your body. He massaged your back and shoulders, working on the tense knots and helping melt away all the tension left in your body. You hadn't realised that you'd drifted in sleep until you felt him get up from beside you, and your body lost the warmth of his contact. "Where ya going'?" You mumbled, barely lifting your eyelids. He chuckled, "Goin' to make you some food, mi luna," He gave you a quick kiss on the lips. "You can come out when you're ready, bien? If not, I'll come find you when food is done," You giggled, sinking a little more into the water. "Okay...thank you, by the way it mea-" "Shhhhh," He pressed a finger to your lips. "Don't even start. Princesa you don't have to thank me for taking care of you, si? You're my girl, hm? I like taking care

don't make it sound like it's a burden," You kissed his finger, smiling a bit. "Okay. I love you," "I love you too, amor," He said, winking and then leaving the bathroom. You sighed, relaxing back into the warm water as your mind drifted back into a quiet hazy sleep.

You weren't sure how long passed before your eyes fluttered open again, your mind scrambling to get aware of its surroundings again. You yawned, slowly getting up and stretching out the fatigue. You had no idea how long you'd been in there, or if Jake had even come back to check up on you, but it didn't matter. You felt better, and that was that. You grabbed a towel, wrapping it around yourself as you stepped out of the tub and starting to dry yourself off. You hung the towel once done and put your hair up in its special towel, before pulling on your clothes. Well.. not your clothes, but Steven's comfy sweater and little shorts under. You waddle out of the bathroom, very slowly dragging yourself to the kitchen where you find Jake, in all his beautiful gorgeous glory, in a cute apron making a couple of sandwiches. You can't help but chuckle as you rush up to him, wrapping your arms around him from behind and pressing your face to his back. He stiffens at the sudden contact before relaxing when he realises it's you. "Hi bebita. Nice nap?" "Shut up, Lockley," You mumbled. He laughed as he finished off the food he made, smiling proudly to himself. He turned his body to face you, rubbing your sides gently. "Wanna watch a movie?" You shrugged. "Dunno," He hummed. "Bien, we can just eat and sit in silence," He kissed your forehead for what had to be the millionth time, before grabbing the tray of food and leading you to the couch. You sat down in Jake's lap, curling up as he wrapped a big cozy blanket around you.

You sat together in peaceful silence as you ate, watching some horrible National Geographic animal documentary and before long, the endless weeks started catching up to you as your eyelids grew heavy and you rested your head on Jake's chest, feeling his arms wrap tighter around you.

There was no doubting, you thought as you fell into a peaceful sleep, you knew your boys would do anything for you.

#moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley fluff #jake lockley imagine #moon knight x reader #moon knight fluff

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shaylixie · 10 months

Text

Going Home

Word Count: 2k

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader

Requested: No.

Part 2

Summary: Chan and Y/n get into a fight, causing one of them to leave.

Warnings / Contains: Language; toxic behaviour.

A/N: The way I write this shit but I'd never act like this irl lmao...I'd like to believe I'd be a lot healthier about it but hey, do it for the angst amirite? Enjoy! 💗

You come home and take your shoes off at the door of your apartment, feeling defeated after yet another shitty day at work. The past month has been hell - work has been so hectic and insane and you barely got a breather. To make things worse, Chan was having his own struggles too, and you hardly had time for each other...which you thought would have made the little time you spent together more special, but it just felt strained. It was getting late, and you desperately needed a hot bath and a meal. The first proper one of the day - that muffin from the morning did a good job sustaining you, but you really really needed something more.

You walked in to the kitchen to find Chan sitting at the table with takeout - God, you completely forgot.

"Channie, hi. Fuck! I'm so sorry, baby. Work finished later than planned and I completely forgot and...are you mad?"

He gave you a tight smile. "It's okay, y/n. I know how things are. The food is cold now though...we should warm it up."

You sighed and sat down at the table. "I feel like shit, Chan. I really am sorry. Why didn't you eat without me?"

"You know I'd never do that," Chan says. "Hey, you're here now. Let's just eat, okay?"

You have a feeling he's trying to appear less hurt than he is, but you dish out the food anyway for both of you and heat it up. You eat together in silence, trying to ignore the slight tension in the air. Afterwards, you get up to wash the dishes and Chan finally speaks up.

"How was your day?"

You can tell he's trying to ignore the tension in the room and move past it, so you do your best to do the same, while remaining as honest as possible.

You sigh. "It was shit. Again."

"I'm sorry," Chan replies.

"It's okay. Not your fault. Anyway. I'm gonna go shower, okay?"

He clears his throat. "Yeah, sure. Let me know if you need anything."

You kiss his cheek and make your way to the bathroom.

When you get into bed, Chan is turned the other way, already asleep...or so you think. You switch the bedside light off and turn to sleep too. It's silent for a while until Chan turns over and runs a hand down your side, stopping at your hip. He presses against you then, and you feel exactly why he's still awake. But after the shitty day - no, month - that you've had, you just don't have it in you. You ignore it, and act like you're asleep. Maybe not the healthiest move, but you're too exhausted to think about it too much.

"Baby?" Chan whispers. "You awake?"

"No," you reply.

He sighs then and flops onto his back, letting out a sigh of defeat. After a few moments, he shakes your arm and then turns to put his bedside light on.

"Y/n, can we talk?" he asks, tone firmer than usual.

"Can it wait?"

"No, no I don't think it can."

You sit up then.

"What going on with us?" he finally asks after weeks of wondering.

"What do you mean?" you ask, knowing but wanting him to elaborate more.

"You mean you haven't noticed? God, we haven't talked in ages. I mean a real conversation. Everything always feels like a string is about to snap...the constant tension...I can't stand it. I don't even know what's happening." It's as though a valve opened, and now everything is pouring out. "Look...you're busy, I get that. But I am too - yet I'm trying, y/n. It feels like you aren't. You come home late. You never come by me anymore...not to the studio, not to my place. It's been what, a month? Maybe more? It feels like more. We don't talk, we don't touch...when's the last time we even had sex? It's like you don't want to even touch me anymore. I don't know if I did something but I don't know what to do anymore. I'm trying...and it feels...it feels like you aren't. Like you haven't been for a while."

He waits for your response, and you feel tears pricking the back of your eyes. Which makes you frustrated...which makes you angry.

"What the fuck do you want me to do, Chris?!"

He's taken aback by your sudden burst of anger.

"I'm tired. Okay? I'm fucking exhausted. I-I don't even know what to do myself. I barely sleep. Or eat. I'm stressed all the time. I feel like I don't even have time for myself let alone you and now what, it's my fault? Fuck this."

You get up from bed and leave the room. Chan sits for a while in stunned silence. What just happened? Fuck it, he's pissed too now.

He follows after you. "Really, y/n? You're gonna take this shit out on me? I'm trying to help us - get us out of whatever the fuck you got us into - and you what, just explode on me? I'm trying to fix us!"

"And what if you can't, Chris?! What if this can't be fixed?"

He looks at you like you just cussed him in 3 different languages. "You really think that?"

"Fucking maybe!"

He laughs a humourless laugh and then shakes his head at you.

"That's all I needed to hear. Fuck this."

He grabs his keys and slips on his shoes, slamming the door behind him and leaving you alone in the dark flat, the tears finally falling down your cheeks.

It's been hours and you still can't sleep. You sob thinking about your fight with Chan; about what you said; what you insinuated. Was it really beyond fixing? You think about what Chan said. He's right...you haven't been making time for him. You haven't spoken the way you used to in what feels like a while. You haven't touched each other lovingly or sexually in a minute and you've ignored his every advance. And he had been trying...Chan was just as stressed out. His deadlines were all coming up and he was suffering with writer's block and he had an appearance soon and the Kids were behind and and and. Yet he still made time for you. Even if it was small. He still came to your place almost every night, even if it was after you fell asleep. He still made sure you ate and he checked in when he could and he always tried to act like things were okay, even if they weren't. He never wanted to add onto your stress. God. You were a dick. You don't deserve him, you think, crying harder. And the cherry on top? In a few days, you'll finally have a break. So much for that now.

It's been 3 heartaching days since the fight with Chan. You haven't spoken in that time, but you can't say it's his fault. The day after, neither of you spoke. The next day, he sent you a message. "Can we talk?" You ignored it. He called that same night, but you declined. He got the message. The third day, he called 4 times. You ignored all the calls. You knew what you had to do.

At 4am that morning, you woke up and started getting ready. You got out of the shower and dressed, hair still wet, when you heard urgent knocking at your door. You opened it, only to see Chan - bags under his slightly red, puffy eyes and hair dishevelled. Your own face probably looked the same.

"Y/n, can we talk? Please?" He paused as if finally noticing you were dressed and your hair was wet. "Where are you going?"

You sighed. "Home," you said in a small voice.

Chan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "But you're already home?"

You looked down, and then back at him.

"I mean home Chan...as in South Africa. I'm going back."

He stopped breathing. "What?"

"This isn't working out, Chan. I don't...I don't deserve you. My flight is in 2 hours. I need to get to the airport now. I'll be gone for a while but I have to come back to decide what happens next. Maybe we can talk then."

You move to close the door on him, but he stops you.

"What- You're ending things?"

Now it was your turn to be confused. "Didn't that happen 3 days ago?"

"Y/n, no. It was just a stupid fight! It doesn't mean anything. Don't do this, please. We can work things out. Cancel the flight. Please. Baby...please."

You feel your eyes sting with fresh tears, and you turn to walk to your bedroom to get your things, knowing that trying to get Chan to leave is useless. As you suspected, he follows you and stands behind you as you go to grab a jacket, ignoring your wet hair now. No point drying it while he's here...you had to get out as soon as possible. You go to grab your suitcases, trying painfully hard not to look at Chan whose face is streaked with tears too. You deposit the suitcases at your front door and slip on your shoes, making sure you have everything. Chan watches you do all this, still in shock, as though he doesn't believe any of it is real...like it's just one big nightmare.

"You have to go now, Chan," you sigh. "Or at least, I have to. I can't miss this flight. I'll see you around."

You turn to walk out the door but you stop when you feel his hands wrap around your calves. Looking down, Chan is on his knees, the same way he's been so many times before for you, but so so different now.

"Please," he croaks. He's sobbing now, and he drops his head against your leg. "I'll do anything. Please just don't go. You want me to beg? I'll beg! Please, y/n. I'll make things right...I'll fix this. I'll fix us. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fuck things up between us...I'm so so sorry, baby. I love you so much...please, please...please, baby. Please."

You're sobbing too now. You kneel down, facing him, and take his face in your hands, wiping his tears. In between shuddering breaths, you say, "That's the thing, Chan. You don't have to fix anything. You weren't the one that broke it...that was all me. I don't deserve you, Channie. Maybe I did once, but not anymore. You deserve someone better." You cry harder at the thought of him with someone else. Composing yourself enough to talk, you add, "You deserve someone who can love you where I failed to...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby." You kiss his forehead.

"That's bullshit, y/n! I know you love me. And it's enough! It's enough for me. Look, a lot of shit has just been happening to us but we can fix it. Okay? Just give us a chance. Fuck anyone else - I don't want anyone else. I want YOU! You're all I've ever wanted and I'll never-" He breaks down sobbing again. "I'll never want anyone besides you. You hear me? Stay. Stay for me, baby. Please."

You both break down even more then, foreheads against each other. You stay like that for a while before you glimpse the time. You still had to drive to the airport and check in your luggage and board and-. You had to leave. You move to stand, pulling Chan up with you. You hug him, and eventually force yourself to let go.

"If it's meant to be...it'll be. Yeah?" you say.

Chan just sniffs in response, fresh tears brewing.

"I'll see you when I get back and then...well, we can see from there. Okay?"

"So it's not over?" he asks.

You kiss his cheek and hand him your key. "Lock up for me?"

You grab your suitcases and make your way to the car, leaving a heartbroken, devastated Chan behind.

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joekeeryswife · 2 months

Note

coming home and masey surprises you with dinner!!

dinner - m.m

a/n: hey loves! here is a short but sweet story about our mase! this is the cutest idea ever. i honestly don’t even know this this makes sense but oh well, enjoy reading 🩰

CHAPTER TWO OF MY LOVE ISLAND SERIES IS COMING SOON!

stress is all you were feeling. the stress of your new job was the worst. even when you were at home you were stressing about it and all you wanted to do was quit. the only person who could make all your problems go away was Mason, your boyfriend of 2 years who made your whole world complete.

you had moved to Manchester with Mason when he got signed for man united almost a year ago and you had thought the job would have gotten better by now but it has gotten worse. the drive home was slow, filled with traffic and idiots that don’t know how to drive and when you finally pulled into the drive way to your house you felt relived.

but knowing that you would have to go back there tomorrow made you anxious. you grabbed your bag and got out of the car and locked the car door before going into the house. you were greeted by the smell of Masons cooking, you took your coat and shoes off before making your way through the house and saw him with his back toward you facing the stove.

he could hear your footsteps as you approached him and he smile slightly, he had seen how stressed you had been recently and he wanted to do something special. he felt your arms go around his waist and your head rest against his back. “hey sweetheart” he said, his voice soft and filled with love. you mumbled ‘hey’ and sighed.

he turned around to face you and kissed your forehead gently. his arms went around your neck and you hugged him tighter. just being in his presence made you calm, it was like his aura was able to make you feel better. “how’s your day been?” you just shook your head at his question, he already knew the answer. he hated that he couldn’t do anything to help you, you were too proud to let him provide for you but you were too scared to leave this job incase no where else would hire you which was stupid, anyone would be lucky to have you.

“that bad huh?” he ran a hand up and down your back soothingly, you nodded. “why don’t you go sit down, relax, go have a shower hmm? dinner will be ready once you’re out.” you sighed “you trying to say i smell or something?” you joked making him laugh and give you a gentle squeeze. “i was trying to be subtle” he joked back making you laugh for the first time that day. it was crazy that you could go a whole day at work and not laugh once, the place was draining. you let go of Mason, giving him a quick kiss on the lips before you made your way upstairs for a shower.

-♡-

“here you go angel” he placed the spaghetti bolognaise in front of you as you sat at the dinner table. it was your favourite meal and Mason made it the best. he sat down next to you, the table was decorated with two candles, flowers in a vase and there was music playing in the background and you didn’t know why but you started to get emotional.

Mason always found a way to make you feel better and him doing this for you just made you feel so grateful for him. Mason had noticed that you weren’t eating straight away and turned to look at you and saw your eyes filled with tears. he put down his fork and quickly wrapped his arm around you. “what’s the matter honey? talk to me” his voice was filled with concern “i’m just-” you stuttered with a few tears rolling down your cheeks “im so grateful you’ve done this for me, like you didn’t have to and you’re just really sweet so thank you” his heart melted.

“aww baby” he kissed your forehead and shifted more towards you. “you don’t have to thank me. you’re my girlfriend and i saw you were stressed i just wanted to make you dinner, you make it all the time which is another stress on top of everything else. i was gonna leave this till later but i called your boss and i’ve got you a few days off so you can relax, you’re working too hard and you need a break honey” you wrapped your arms around him awkwardly but he didn’t care.

“if you don’t leave that place eventually you’re gonna end up at breaking point and i don’t want that, i want you to be happy and you aren’t happy there and i know you say it’s wrong if you’re living off of my money but honestly i do not care. what’s mine is yours and that includes money” he felt you shake your head “i know you don’t like the thought of that but even if it is just for a few months just till you find a new job then so be it. i need you to be happy, that is my main priority right now” you sighed, he was not going to back off about this until you quit.

“okay fine, i’ll quit” he felt relieved. that job had caused you too much stress and he hated seeing you like this. “thank god baby, we need to celebrate” you laughed as you wiped your tears off of your cheeks and Mason pulled away from the hug so he could kiss you. “if i have to use your money i will pay you back i promise” he brushed you off, groaning as he rolled his eyes “baby, this isn’t about money, this is about you being happy. now eat your food please, i spent ages on it” you giggled.

you ate some and god it tasted good, you practically moaned as you ate another bite “thank you mase, it tastes so good” he nodded “yeah, it does, better than yours” your eyes widened as you turned to look at him, he laughed at your reaction “i’m joking baby, your spag bowl is, okay” you shoved him slightly making him laugh even harder. “no, i’m being serious now i am only joking” he gave you another kiss. “now, let’s seriously celebrate you leaving that job, it was shit” he went to the kitchen to get some champagne and in that moment you knew how lucky you were to have Mason, all he did was care about your happiness and you were so grateful for that.

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kitashousewife · 10 months

Text

“happy birthday shoyo!” your cheery voice cuts through the quiet room and hinata chuckles. it’s midnight in brazil, but you’re many hours ahead.

“thank you baby,” he rasps, voice tired and eyes a little sleepy after the long day. “are you up to anything fun today?”

you scoff, eyebrows raised from where you stand in your kitchen.

“that’s it? it’s your birthday sho! this isn’t about me,” you wave your hands dismissively and your boyfriend laughs.

truth be told, hinata was dreading his birthday. another day in a different country, far from his family and friends. based on how his phone is blowing up, it doesn’t seem like anyone forgot, but it’s just not the same. no special breakfasts, no traditions, no forced photos in front of his cake by his mom. just another day.

“i’m gonna sleep in, that’s for sure,” he sighs, flopping onto his back and holdimg you in the air. “i’m sure i’ll get a call from my mom and natsu, maybe tobio. but if not, no worries.”

“no worries?” you shriek. “shoyo it’s your birthday for crying out loud! you deserve the world every day, but especially today.”

he smiles at your frantic state, heart swelling at just how much you care and worry for him. every day he gets a reminder text from you about sunscreen and water, another about eating a good meal, and you’re always asking him to rest more than he would like to. you care so much, and he’s not sure what he would do without you.

“okay, okay,” the hand not holding his phone raises up. “i think i’ll sleep in and head down to the coffee shop i like and grab something to eat,” he thinks for a minute. “then i’ll come home, change, head to the beach for a few games, and then maybe mess around in the water. i’m sure it will be hot tomorrow.”

“don’t forget your sunscreen,” you advise, standing in your kitchen preparing lunch. you miss how hinata mouths exactly what you said, while you said it.

“oh, are you kidding? i would never,” he shakes his head, holding back a smirk when he sees you raise an eyebrow.

“the red on your chest says otherwise.”

ignoring the slight burn on his skin, he continues.

“there’s a spot pretty close to me that has the best food, the one i was telling you about a couple weeks ago. i’ll probably get dinner there, maybe pick up a treat on the way home, and then relax for the night. nothing too crazy.”

“please check your mail at some point! i won’t say why, but it might be a good idea to stop by,” you smile and hinata rolls his eyes. “but that sounds like a good birthday, sho.”

he nods, now very sleepy after feeling comforted by your voice.

“i’m really sorry i couldn’t spend your birthday with you.”

his heart sinks for a second, but he does his best to pull himself together.

“it’s okay baby, it will be a great day regardless. besides, i got to talk to you first thing on my birthday, so it’s already perfect. i’ll be sure to keep you updated on the day. it will be like you’re right here!”

he yawns, eyes getting heavier by the minute as he gets comfortable in his mattress. he ac hums in the background, slowly lulling him to sleep.

“get some sleep shoyo. i love you! happy birthday,” you smile wide and he grins. he mumbles a very tired i love you before hanging up. you put your phone in your pocket and grab the suitcase that sits near your front door, packed and ready to go.

if everything goes smoothly, you should be at the birthday boy’s door just in time for his breakfast run.

#shoyo hinata x reader #shoyo x reader #hinata x reader #hinata shoyo #hinata fluff #hinata shoyo fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu hinata #haikyuu x reader

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imrllytootiredforthis · 10 months

Text

Like a siren's call

pairing: beomgyu x vampire reader

summary: your voice is sultry, smooth in the kind of way only a vampire’s is. like a siren calling to the sailor. but you’re not completely sure who the siren is at this point,

OR beomgyu goes to a vampire bar in hopes of fulfilling his depraved fantasies

warnings: dom reader, sub beomgyu, biting, blood drinking (it is vampire so what do you expect?), handjob, exhibitionism, reader calls gyu 'little lamb', fingering (m receiving), crying, kissing with blood in mouth (?), gyu in a skirt, possibly more i forgot

word count: 7k

a/n: finally i had time to finish this, from the teaser here, there are a few tiny little changes from the beginning but nothing major. anyway, please ignore my horrible editing skills and feedback is always welcomed, i hope you all enjoy!

He sits alone at the bar. You can only speculate why, with his pretty face and his pretty body it was a wonder he wasn't responding to the hungry eyes eating him up; including your own, unfortunately.

He seems bored, disinterested as he swirls the liquid around in his glass mindlessly.

Too bad, really. You could really bring some life (heh) to his night if he let you. You'd gladly take on the challenge. He was exactly the reason you’d come here tonight.

For him. For his type.

Nothing piqued your interest like the way he held himself. How he looked innocent and pure in an alluring kind of way despite his appearance, which spoke quite the opposite. His features feminine and gentle in a way that drove you wild.

He caught the eye immediately with glittery makeup that shimmered in the strobing lights of the club; drawing in the attention of passersbys like a siren, eyes stuck on him for the brief moment before they continued on with their night.

With the way plenty had looked at him you were surprised that no one had approached him yet. You were even more surprised that you hadn’t gotten up already.

Something inside of you told you to wait though, told you to play a little with him, make him work for it. Something you couldn’t quite place screamed that he often got what he wanted-and you had never one to play with your meal but just maybe once it would be a bit of fun.

With a little bit a vivid imagination and a special something you'd told the bartender to slip into your drink you could practically see it. How much more gorgeous he would look when he begged, with tears in his eyes too, cheeks flushed.

Tongue swiping over your teeth, you wonder if he's here for what you assume he is. To fulfill the reason that you came here tonight...or if your fangs would send him running in the opposite direction.

Who were you kidding though?

He's obviously here for a reason and with the way he's only leisurely sipping the drink in his hand you doubt it's only for that. You hope it's not only for that.

Crazy hot and seductive as shit, hopefully by choice, all you've been wanting all night was for him to look at you. He hasn't though and you're beginning to wonder if you should cut your losses and call it a night.

It's not common for you to be this...infatuated with a human but there's something different about him, something special that you can't shake.

And you only realize that your stare is so obvious, so shameless when he can feel it from across the bar, looking up so his eyes catch on your own.

He stiffens in his seat, looking startled but certainly not uncomfortable by any means. Flickering from your eyes to your mouth and then down to the rest of you, he takes it all in with another sip.

And ever so slowly you allow yourself to do the same, for probably the millionth time tonight already. Gaze dragging over the length his body, appreciating every little thing as they trail lower and lower.

He’s gorgeous, for a human and for a vampire as well; he clearly relishes in knowing the fact, with little details that only accentuate it.

A choker that sits snug against the smooth skin of his throat. One of the cute pink ones with the little metal heart placed in the front. Pale, unmarked skin moving beneath it, throat bobbing as he takes chugs down the rest of his drink and calls for another. Skin that's practically begging to be claimed.

By you? Well, only if the pretty thing would let you.

Really, it's more of a question of what you wouldn't do to him if he would let you.

The barely noticeable detail on the short skirt he’s wearing stands out to you. It's definitely not the length of it that calls your attention to it. The thing nearly short enough to be called scandalous but just breaks as passing with society’s expectations.

And lastly, but very certainly not in the least when it comes to this human, the knee-high boots make up for the length of his skirt as well as the thigh highs he’s clearly wearing underneath, little frills peeking out from where they end. Almost obsessively, your eyes rake down the delicious sliver of thigh that they reveal.

He focuses back at you now, looking like he expects for you to look ashamed at being caught, after all, you were boring holes into him.

But to his surprise, you don’t. You hold steady and continue your unabashed stare.

He flushes, as pretty as the rest of him, face downturned to the bar, hair falling just so.

He tugs a lip between his lips, perhaps unconsciously or maybe not. The mischievous twinkle in his eye argues for the latter.

You’d never excelled at understanding human emotions, much less read them off a pretty human boy’s face.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

—

Your eyes. The deep shade of crimson they take on. The exact colour of blood. The exact colour of the essence that runs just beneath his skin.

They should really scare him more than anything.

They should make his skin crawl and make him feel the urge to run for the hills. Away from you. Away from everything that you could do to him if you wanted to.

The things that he wants you to do to him. But that's really not the point.

That's the first thing Beomgyu notices.

The way they bore into him, the crimson darkening by several shades to an entirely new kind of red. His skin crawls, invisible bugs scurrying over his body. Heat swells, filling him up to the brim-did they turn the heat up in here? They had to have turned the heat up.

Goosebumps break across the exposed skin of his thigh, a shiver runs up his spine, zinging him but not for the reasons they should.

You look away all too soon, shifting your focus to the bartender in front of you, leaving Beomgyu feeling weirdly cold once again.

He was kind of hoping you’d approach him. Sure, he could approach you, he would’ve but he wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was more prey than hunter. After all, why else would he be here?

You’re gorgeous, all skin and grace, seductive while you playfully roll your eyes at the man in front of you. Your lips curl up into a smile and there they are.

Your fangs. Perfect ivory and considerably long, he could only imagine how deep they would bury inside his skin. How good they would feel-how good he’d heard they’d feel at least.

Beomgyu wondered how it would feel, how much it would hurt before everything else would take over, he wasn’t particularly against pain so that wasn’t much issue. He wondered how your lips would taste, how he’d taste to you.

Human blood tasted and smelt different to every vampire, some more desirable, some less. He hoped you found him desirable, and with the way you’d looked at him, dark and intense and hungry.

The amber liquid in his glass burns down his throat but makes his body feel all the less tense, all the more free. This was his second and last drink of the night. He’d heard it was better to stay mostly sober for these kinds of things. There was no saying what someone’s intentions could be and he didn’t want to turn up dead in the alley next door tomorrow.

Besides, even if this was his second day coming here and still, he hadn't been approached, his hopes of something happening tonight weren’t completely squashed yet.

Not with the way he could feel your eyes on him again, not subtle in the least, shameless in a way that drove him a touch insane.

His thighs rub together, trying to quell the heat lighting between them. Welcoming and also trying to reject the thought of how you would look at him, just like that, in a different kind of setting.

Beomgyu has no idea how, but you seem to notice the imperceptible movement, eyes flickering down to watch as your tongue peeks out to wet your lips.

He sits up straighter, flustered by the look, looking away and hoping you don't somehow notice the blush flooding his face. Using the opportunity to survey the busy venue.

It was definitely one of the more popular blood bars in the city, one of the better funded ones and the patrons only proved it. Humans and vampires alike dressed lavishly, screaming of an old kind of wealth. Showy-offy in a way that begged the eye not to look away.

The people here were certainly well off and that was obvious. Practically dripping in jewels and riches, many scantily clad and wearing nearly nothing at all, yet still looking expensive.

He was glad that he’d gone with his gut to overdo instead of underdo. His roommate had frowned when he saw Beomgyu leaving the apartment, asking him if that was really what he was wearing.

Beomgyu had never taken much mind to being slut-shamed, if anything that meant that the skirt was just the right length but these words almost made him turn back to his room and change into something more 'suitable'.

He's glad he didn't. He fits in more like this and the outfit, as well as the makeup certainly garnered its fair-share of wanted attention.

“Can I get you anything?”

The bartender was a tall man, lithe and nearly able to pass as a human before his winning customer service smile revealed the fangs hidden just beneath his lips.

“No, I’m good, thank you.”

The man-vampire followed Beomgyu's line of sight, settling on you. "Is there anything else I can get you? Perhaps a name or a number?"

Beomgyu looked back at him, slightly horrified at the thought. "No!" he cleared his throat in an attempt to cover the outburst. "Uh-no, no, that's okay. I'm good, really."

He smiled politely and the bartender nodded, "Okay then just call me over then if you need anything else."

His eyes were back on you the second he was gone. But you haven't looked back yet, instead talking with the other bartender across.

Beomgyu can’t help but find himself slightly disappointed.

His friend Yeonjun had recommended he come to this place. Technically Yeonjun’s partner had.

He had been pleasantly surprised to find that Yeonjun was dating someone when he saw him after all these years. He was even more shocked to find out that he was dating a vampire. He was never that close to Yeonjun but his mom was friends with Beomgyu’s and he certainly remembered his immense fear of vampires from then.

People could change though of course and Beomgyu was never one to judge especially on the topic, he wondered but didn't care enough to ask.

The only real reason that they had rekindled was because Beomgyu had just moved to the area and Yeonjun needed someone else to pay the rent. On those terms an easy arrangement was made.

He quickly moved in with the two of them. It wasn’t the best situation that he could find himself in but certainly wasn’t a bad one.

Their apartment was small to have three people living in it and the walls were much too thin for the activities that his two roommates engaged in (Yeonjun really was too loud for his own good) but otherwise they were okay roommates and showed him around the city like his own personal tourguides.

Either way, Beomgyu started his search to get out of there pretty quickly. He did like Yeonjun, despite the fact that he's a little bit too uptight and a little bit too overbearing, he found his partner to be quite interesting.

They were the one to tell him about this place, an exclusively night bar where they worked. It was supposed to be quiet and relatively safe compared to some of the other places like this in the city, partially because of the rich patrons.

It was one of the clubs for vampires who wanted to feed and humans that wanted to be fed from and Beomgyu couldn’t help the way his interest was piqued.

He’d always had a weird obsession with their kind. It was an embarrassing subject for him. He’d grown up in a small town where the topic was taboo at least, and being shunned from the community at worst. The idea of engaging with vampires was worse than watching porn or going to the strip club, more like the type of thing that parents would kick their children for thinking about.

It was one of the reasons he was so surprised that Yeonjun had decided to date one.

In the bigger cities though, like this one, vampires were more common and people were less afraid. There was less stigma to stereotypes and misconceptions than the small towns had.

But it was odd that so quickly his perception had changed. He’d thought he’d gotten over it a long time ago, thought that it had been quelled ever since that documentary in school about "The Truth About Vampires-Parasites! Soulless bloodsuckers!". It scared the shit out of him and from then on he vowed that he wouldn't be caught dead searching up vampire porn on his laptop ever again.

Until he got here. Beomgyu couldn’t help the way his body heated up when Yeonjun told him about how it felt to be drunk from. How it felt down from the little prick of pain when their fangs entered the skin to how intoxicating, how high-inducing and euphoric it felt.

It led to the fantasy reappearing in his dreams the next night and a very tense silence between the him and Yeonjun the next day as they nursed terrible hangovers. Where Yeonjun had his partner to take care of him afterwards though, as Beomgyu heard through the too thin walls later that night, all Beomgyu had were his thoughts

Maybe he was a perv. A freak, or a degenerate. For taking up the offer from Yeonjun’s partner to be driven here. For coming here to fulfill his depraved fantasies he'd sworn off a long time ago. But seeing as there was this many other humans lounging around the room. Dancing and drinking and being fed from out in the open or being dragged to a back room, he could feel just a little bit normal.

If tonight didn’t work out either, he wouldn’t mind coming here another night to try again. Though he could only hope that he’d see you tomorrow.

He didn’t know what it was, but something about you he couldn’t quite shake, he couldn’t quite-he looked up again to see you gone. The space where you sat empty.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you look a little lonely.”

His attention snaps up in an instant.

His head reels as he registers the red eyes looking down at him, the way that you seemed to be bemused at his speechlessness.

“Um, I-“

You seem to have nothing but amusement toward his reaction. Unfazed as you gesture towards the stool next to him. “Is this seat taken?”

“Yes.” you look almost shocked as he says the word, disappointed in a way that makes him think that the infatuation was mutual. “By you.” Beomgyu isn’t quite sure where he gets the confidence to say that but the words come either way.

And they’re almost enough to make you laugh, but not quite. You take a seat, angling your body towards his.

The silence is brief, a few seconds of you surveying him once again but this time a bit closer, a bit more intimate as you reach for the frills on the hem of his thigh-highs, playing with it as he tries his best not to flinch.

Instead of emanating any kind of body heat it’s cold, like a chill coming out of your skin that feels good against in the humid stuffy air of this place.

“So, what’re you here for?”

The question has an easy answer, and that is to get fucked up, not necessarily sex, but he’s heard that a vampire drinking from someone feels like something akin to an orgasm only better than that. He can’t say that though, it’s crude and though he has no trouble being labelled a slut, he doesn’t want you to think that he’d open his legs for anything with fangs.

So instead, “Eh, a new crowd I guess.”

Not entirely a lie, it was a change of scenery, but then again everything about the city was.

Here vampires were allowed to walk free instead of being run out of the town and humans weren’t ostracized for befriending or even getting romantically involved with one.

His parents would disown him if they even knew he was here tonight.

“Meet some new people, see some of the things I wouldn’t see at home.”

The way you look at him is skeptical. You obviously don’t believe the shit coming out of his mouth. Your hand slips higher. “Really now? A new crowd? That’s it?”

No. That’s not just it and Beomgyu’s a tad embarrassed that you can see through him so easily but the feeling is easily overpowered by the want to throw himself at you.

He sucks in a breath, heart thumping so hard he’s sure you can hear. You let out a puff of air. Clearly you’re ready for this game to end, tired of him playing hard to get and done feeding into it.

“You don’t want something maybe a bit…more?” Your voice lowers a few octaves, sultry and smooth.

Like a siren calling to the sailor. Hypnotizing and mesmerizing.

Neither of you are too sure who the siren is at this point though.

It could be the vampire and to Beomgyu, it is. Captivating eyes and sharp fangs, lulling voice that sings to him like no other. All vampires that have that kind of weird alluring quality to them but yours is different, yours is something else entirely.

The human maybe as well. The one that you haven’t been able pull your eyes away from all night. Pretty makeup and pretty clothes. His scent like chocolate and a dash of vanilla. A human unlike any other you’ve had the pleasure of meeting.

Throat dry, eyes fixated in places they shouldn’t be, he nods and you watch his throat bob, that vein in his neck bulging.

Before he realizes what’s happening, your lips are next to his ear, “Look, little lamb,” His body stiffens at the name you've decided to give him. “I am here for something, and with the way that you’ve been eye-fucking me all night, I’m sure that you are too.” you cut off, smiling as you mouth at his skin, “So let’s cut to the chase. Are you on the same page that I am?”

Nails dig into his flesh and he gasps, jumping in his seat, looking shocked and a little turned on before shifting as close as he possibly can considering the fact that you’re on two separate barstools. “Yes, I—I think so,”

“So…you wouldn’t mind if I just…” his gasp rings out, heart skipping a beat as you pull him into your lap, perching him so he’s straddling your thighs. His face so, so close to yours. He can feel your breath on fanning across his cheeks and lips. He could count each of your individual eyelashes if he wanted. Your eyes flicker down. “If I just kissed you? Until you’re breathless and panting against me, all weak and needy?” He can feel your nose brushing against his. “Leave you trembling and shaking, begging me for more, pleading for me not to stop…would you mind?”

That’s it. He’s short-circuited, eyes unfocused, a haze already taking over. “Please.” is all he can come up with but you don’t seem deterred at all by the fact.

“Good.”

He can hardly believe this is happening. Hardly believe that you’re real. A long-lived fantasy from ever since he was a teenager and stumbled upon porn brought to real life, right in front of him. Groping him, in the middle of a bar, calling him a little lamb, pulling him into your lap. In front of the entire bar.

He’s so hard, it hurts. He hopes you don’t notice. Or maybe he hopes you do.

He wants you to kiss him hard, bite and shred up his lips before you move down, using him in any way that you want, he won’t complain, he’ll be so, so good.

You lean closer and his eyelids slip shut, awaiting for your lips on his…they never meet. They’re on his neck instead, licking up and nipping at the shell of his ear, dragging down his jaw. “Tell me what you want, tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

“I-i…” He can’t think properly, you’re a fucking wet dream to him. You’re offering him all he’s ever wanted and he can’t think of anything but your fangs against his fucking neck. “S-shit,” He twitches, throbs. “Mark me, bite me.” He’s desperate, clutching onto you like you’ll disappear any second and he’ll be robbed of the chance he’s been so desperate for all his life. Of you and your scent and your mouth. “I-please-make me bleed, k-kiss me with my blood in your mouth, make me taste myself,”

“Mhm, okay, that can be arranged”, you whisper, nails digging in to grab more of his thigh. He shivers and watches pervertedly as your tongue peeks out from between your lips to wet them. “Y’know, I don’t want you to feel pressured, you can say no and I’ll let you leave,” You mutter. “I promise you’ll make it back home tonight-alive, that is.”

You laugh at your own joke, awaiting for his answer-verbally-and not just him whining like a like clingy whore. Or grinding down against you like he’s your own personal lap dance, chasing for that spark of pleasure with a sharp keen.

He squirms pathetically in your lap, Clutching onto you, off in his own world. “A-ah, y-yes,” his cheeks are so flushed, his legs so tense in your hands. “G-god, anything! I promise, I’ll be good!”

What an offer.

You could hardly take a pass on it, hardly ignore this pretty thing.

Others around the room pervertedly watch, getting ready for a show in the middle of the bar, hardly a rare occurrence but it’s not your style. You don’t like to share your things. And for tonight this human boy is yours.

Only yours.

Without a word, you’re pushing him off your lap, ignoring his anguished cry and bratty groan as you grip his wrist. He squeaks. It’s firm but not painful, tugging him towards an almost hidden exit door.

“Wha-“

“Shh, just follow my lead.”

So he does, following behind with few words of complaint. Not that he can think of much anyway, not around the cloud of lust that feels like cotton in his head.

Before his mind catches up to what’s going on you’re out in the alleyway beside the bar. A light flickers at the end of the street, far off from where you are, just barely illuminating your eyes that stare down at him hungrily.

Pressing his hips down you shove his shivering body against the dirty wall. He can feel grit and moss and something that feels wet soaking into the fabric of his skirt.

He would normally complain, complain but unlike he normal, he doesn’t mind. Because under your watch he can’t help the way his heartbeat quickens, heart working on overtime as the adrenaline begins to take over.

His jaw fits perfectly in your hand and his eyes flutter before slipping shut, leaning into your cool touch as your thumb delicately explores over the ridges of his face, down his cheekbone and over his lips.

He’s so warm. You can’t help but marvel at him, tracing the creases of his eyes, wiping some of the glitter down the side of his face. He shudders out a breath and you smile, like a cat that’s caught a bird. “Hope you don’t mind, but I’m gonna ruin all of this,” his skin is almost scalding. Different. A warmer touch than you’ve felt in a long time. “Make you cry, make all of your pretty makeup run.”

“Please,” he breathes, he begs, raw desire pouring into the singular word. “Please do.”

He’s been so patient. So good for you. A good little toy to your teasing. You suppose he should get a little reward for his troubles.

You watch in fascination as he sighs shakily, hot breath starting to come out in pants. His heart pounds wildly in your ears and you quickly scan over him for the cause.

You quickly find it.

You.

Standing over him as he tightly clings to you. Like he never wants you to leave. His eyes open slightly, wide and needy, your pokerface slipping into a smirk you can’t hold back.

His body shivers in anticipation and your eyes once again find that tiny sliver of thigh exposed, pale skin, unblemished calling out to you like an invitation.

To touch, to squeeze, to explore.

To bite, hopefully.

He jumps when you to touch him, from the cold, he tells himself.

He swears he hears you growl when you make contact but he can’t hear very well over the sound of the city. Nails graze the skin before quickly skipping over where you’d already been. Toying with the hem of his skirt and then sliding under, up higher.

His panting gets heavier. His head falls into the crook of your neck with a pathetic whine, hot puffs of air caressing your skin.

He’s hot and heavy in your hand, underwear a forgone piece of clothing for tonight.

“Slut.” You hiss. He throbs, pre cum leaking all over your hand as he grits his teeth, trying not to fuck himself into your hand like he so badly wants. “You can’t wait to be fucked, can you?” you whisper, “just needed someone to do it for you.” Your hand tightens around him and he chokes out a moan followed by a sob. “Right little lamb?”

Your tone is so menacing, it’s so hot. The cool outside air is nothing compared to his feverish skin.

It seems, the only thing that could cool him down is you.

“Wanna fuck up into my hand?” He’s so wet it makes it so easy for your hand to move along the length of him. “Wanna cum?”

Beomgyu loves this kind of teasing, though he’d never admit it. He loves the fact that you take some kind of wicked pleasure in making him all red, that he knows you want to make him nothing more than a begging writhing mess tonight.

Teasing is his forte. Edging is his favourite pastime. He can take this.

But really, as much as he wants to savour this, you’re right. He really, really, really wants to cum. Already, so quickly it’s almost embarrassing. He just wishes that you’d hurry it up already.

That you’d give up the act and slip to your knees in front of him.

Instead you squeeze his cock, thumb toying over the tip. Beomgyu gasps, tongue needily moving against your neck, licking over the smooth, oddly cold juncture, nipping and whining before moving over to your jugular.

He shivers when he feels no pulse there.

“Tell me what you want little lamb.” He wants so many things. Too many things.

“I need it.” Every ounce of need is poured into the three words, a whine and a beg and a plea all mixed into one. His body shaking with desire.

“Do you now?” You tease.

“Yes, yes, yes, please,” His voice is muffled and it’s hard not resist the urge to dig your nails into his scalp, force him to look at you, so you can see his pretty face and glossy eyes while you make him fall apart. His noises are just as pretty though, straight into your ear, a chill running down your spine at the contrast of your body’s temperature versus the heat of his breath. So just this once you’ll let him.

For now you’ll just rest your fingers in his hair, scratching his scalp lightly in a way that makes him purr and shudder, muffled moans reverberating against your skin.

“You that worked up already? That easily, huh?”

“So easy, just a toying with your cock for a little bit? Or is it the fact that we’re out here?” you coo. His breath hitches as you pull his skirt down just over his hips. He stiffens, worried for a second that you’re going to strip him down completely in this alleyway.

Where someone could so easily see the two you.

Where a worker could come to take the trash out.

Where a drunken patron could wander out.

Where more vampires could find you.

Why does that thought sound so good?

He cuts off into a hiss, biting down on his lips so hard he can taste blood trying to hold back the moan threatening to escape.

“Oh, is that it? Want someone to come out, watch me make a mess of you?” everything screams at him to nod, to scream out the truth but he doesn't. He only whimpers while biting down on his lip.

“Oh, you’re so close…Makes me wonder if I should slow down, give you a break?” He shakes his head insistently, frantically, devastated at the very thought. You sigh over-dramatically-as if he didn’t give you the very reaction that you wanted. “Okay then tell me how you feel little lamb. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

You’re tortuous. You’re making head spin and his blood boil with need. You’re smirking all the while and enjoying his desperate whimpers into your ear, getting all worked up.

You’re mean. You’re so, so mean. And he loves it.

He can’t vocalize it though, can’t find his voice or get out the words stuck in his throat.

Guess you’ll have to force them out of him then.

Beomgyu lets himself be pulled off of you, allowing you to push him back against the wall harder so that every inch of his back is pressed against it. And despite the squeak of indignation of being pushed away from you he seems more than happy about this rough handling.

Even more so as you fall to your knees in front of him.

With the view of you standing below him, hungry eyes searing on his skin, focusing on every vantage point.

His neck, his wrists, his thighs.

He feels as if he’s been burnt wherever you stare too long, skin on fire but it’s okay, okay because the pain somehow makes it so much better.

“You just gonna stare at me all night?”

Finally your attention flicks back up to his face, taking in his blown out pupils and lustful expression. “And what if I do?”

“You love the attention, don’t you?” Fingers slide along the hem of his thigh highs. “Love it when I look at you,” he gasps when he feels you rip the flimsy fabric, too far gone to be pissed, to even cry out in indignation before it’s replaced with your lips.

His body convulses as you kitten lick a long stripe from where the now ruined hem is all the way to where his thigh meets his hip. “You love it when you know that I’m thinking about you.”

Your breath is cold against his cock as you blow air at it, devoid of the usual warm brush of air he’s used to. “Do you wanna know what I think about you? Hear about all the ways I want to ruin you?”

His hands clench and unclench in intervals. He wants to touch you so bad, wants to feel your hair between his fingers, brush his thumb over the cool skin of your face and lips.

He doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch though. He’s not willing to risk it if he knows there’s a chance you’ll stop. He wants this so bad, fuck, he really does. He wants it more than anything else in the world-and he has the chance right now! He has the vampire between his legs, teeth grazing his thighs.

He has the means and the want and the opportunity…but it’s up to you in the end.

“Please don’t stop,” he pleads, rolling his hips up, “I-I’ll die without it.”

You bark out a laugh and that’s all he hears before he watches, eyes wide as your teeth sink into his skin and you’re groaning, gulping down like a starved animal. Beomgyu swears he sees white, or black, or…he can’t really tell but the breath is sucked from his lungs. His fingers claw desperately at the alley wall, trying to find some sort of sanity in the pleasure.

A whorish cry is ripped from his lungs, deaf on his own his ears as ecstasy and pain together and intertwined, one and the same take over his entire body.

He feels like he’s been set it on fire, like he’s been dipped into molten lava or some shit equivalent that his head can’t wrap around.

It’s intense-so fucking intense-Yeonjun downplayed it so much. But then again, absolutely nothing could get him ready for this.

His ears ring and his legs shake as if they’re about to give out. His posture is kept up only from the wall firm behind his back and your hands holding onto him so tightly he’s positive there will be bruises in their place tomorrow.

It feels like he’s cumming but a hundred times more intense, no-a million times-more. He can’t breath, oh fuck, he can’t breath.

His lungs scream for air, but he doesn’t remember how to use them. He feels like he’s been winded, all the oxygen knocked out of him.

Everything aches and everything feels so good. His hands finally clench into your hair and he can feel your lips suctioning at his skin like you were trying to leave a hickey, only he knows there will be much more left behind than just a bruise.

He’s only vaguely aware that he must sound like some sort of dying animal with the way he howls in pleasure, strangled cries released into the night one after another.

He must look like one too with how his hands grasp at your hair, nearly clawing at your scalp, desperately searching for some way to stabilize his sanity that is slowly slipping away with how good this fucking feels.

Your nose nudges against his heated skin, lips suckling, groaning around the area as you continue to drink more and more until he feels so lightheaded he’s worried he’s going to pass out.

And then you let him go.

Beomgyu groans in relief or in disappointment, he doesn’t know. He stares down at you: makeup smeared, drool dripping, hands clutching. He focuses on your stained red teeth, eyes dazed and sharp.

“Did you just cum?”

His hips buck, a meek whine escaping. He nods. But it’s not enough cumming once, not anywhere near enough, he’s still hard and throbbing for your touch. It’s almost as if he can feel the venom of your bite working through his system, corrupting and taking over everything, making his head spin as he arches his back slightly, presenting himself to you for further exploration.

“Please don’t stop, god, I need you so bad~” he’s whiney and he’s adorable, his words slurred, his cheeks pink. “I w-wan’ you to explore every inch of me,” You look up at him, speechless, head filling with thoughts of bloodlust and his body as his hips chase nothing but air, moaning all the while. “Don't hold back, I want to feel everything."

“Really, little lamb? Everything.” You taunt, before you stand, coming face to face with him and finally your lips slam against his, harsh and almost aggressive, fingers knotting into his hair, pushing him closer like you’re trying to consume him.

The taste of iron fills his mouth and he whimpers, clinging onto your shoulders, knees weak at the realization. Warm tears spill down his cheeks but you’re quick to wipe them away with your fingers, succeeding in smudging the last bits of his makeup to hell.

“Fuck you’re so pretty,” you mutter, sucking his tongue into your mouth, drool and spit making a mess everywhere. “I just wanna eat you alive,” the words are sent directly between his legs as your hands slip under his skirt once more, rubbing at his taint before falling back a bit more.

Beomgyu’s eyes slip shut, pulling away from the kiss, knocking his head back against the alley wall with a wanton whine. “P-put them in-please, put them in.” He chokes out.

First you bring your fingers up and shove them into his mouth, collecting a disgusting amount of saliva that’s pooled in his mouth. “Suck.” He does, with a fervent desire, whimpering and swirling his tongue around them as if they were a dick.

Then they’re back where they were before.

He shakes, eyes finding yours with a mix of desire and submission in them. "Please...please put your fingers inside me," he begs, low and needy as he spreads his legs wider for you. "I-I want to feel you inside me...I need it so badly," he grinds down, desperate for your touch.

He lets out a soft gasp as your finger enters him; slow and steady. "Yes...just like that. Deeper. Fuck, feel so full~”

You scissor your fingers, and all composure is lost as he moans loudly at the feeling. No words come to mind, nothing can be said, only be felt.

You find his prostate with ease, pressing down on it, making your little lamb scream into the empty alley, his voice hoarse and gravelly as he pleads mindlessly, hips snapping forward so much you have to pin them against the wall.

“Yeah? That feel good? Having my fingers so deep inside you, huh?” He nods eagerly, his body shaking as you press down on his prostate. He's panting heavily now, barely able to form words.

Beomgyu loses himself in the sensation of your fingers deep inside him. He feels on the edge, his body shaking with pleasure as he grips onto you tightly, nails scratching at your skin though he knows that it’ll do nothing. "Yes...yes I'm so close," he gasps out between moans and twitches.

His walls clench around you as you add a third one in, almost as if they’re sucking you in deeper and deeper.

He's barely able to stand up straight, his legs trying to spread wider, his skirt restricting room until in one swift move you rip a slit all the way up. His gasp is shocked. He'll be angry at you later. But not now as you take his knee in your free hand and throw it around your hip, giving you more access to press even harder against his prostate.

Beomgyu’s eyes roll back in bliss as you abuse the spot over and over. Waves of pleasure crashing over him, he looks up at you with a pleading expression in his eyes, his fingers gripping tightly onto your shoulders. "Please...please let me cum," he begs in a low, husky voice. "I need it so badly...let me cum for you," he pleads desperately, his body quivering with anticipation, so close to exploding he can’t think straight.

“Cum.”

He cries out as the flood bursts through, lost in the moment now, vaguely aware of anything except for the mind-blowing pleasure coursing through his veins. "Oh god...yes!"

His orgasm seems to last an eternity, every inch of his being exploding with pleasure. You're sure that everybody inside bar has heard you now, that your pretty boy was too loud, that he is still too loud as he pants and shudders against you, dumb with pleasure as his cum soaks into the fabric of his skirt and drips down his thighs and your arms.

You’d clean it up for him if he weren’t holding onto you so tightly, ensuring that you can’t move. Well, you could move if you really wanted to, but you don’t want to.

Instead, no words are exchanged as you slowly move your arms up, wrapping around his waist in return. He looks up at you, eyes bleary and unfocused, drooping shut drowsily.

You sigh, realizing that you’ll have to take care of him for the rest of the night whether that be trying to figure out where he lives or taking him back to your own.

He sighs dreamily, breathing getting slower as he drifts off. Still covered in cum and drool, smudged makeup on his face and blood stained on his lips.

He's the siren and you're the sailor, there could be no other way. He lured you in and you had not a hint that you'd be trapped with him for however long he wanted you after that.

Pushing back the sweaty hair that sticks to his forehead, you smile, unable to bring yourself to be the slightest bit upset about it.

Either way, he’ll wake up tomorrow morning, completely fucked up and you're sure that you’ll be there to nurse him through it.

a/n: ignore the way the smut is more than half of the fic😇, hope you all enjoyed it! I'm kinda teasing around the idea of doing the rest of txt w either vampire reader OR w them being the vampire though if i did it probably wouldn't be out for awhile with everything else i'm doing.

anyway, taglist (going by people who specifically asked to be tagged so sorry if you wanted to be tagged and weren't): @d7dream, @fairyofshampgyu, @pink-tea, @goquokka, @maru-matt, @esther-kpopstan, @bitehee, @k-femdove, @snowballbear, @sanasour, @yongboksgf, @paeng0rl, @mysoob, @hobihearteu, @laylasbunbunny, @lemonhongjoong, @xcookiemonsteer, @hahagay,

my official taglist is here

#dom reader #sub txt #txt smut #sub! txt #txt #txt x reader #sub choi beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu smut #sub beomgyu #choi beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu smut #vampire reader #sub kpop #sub!kpop #sub idol #sub!idol

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